#traying to do a welcome post or something in here

[rotlix64]

Hello and welcome to my Blog! My name is Rotlix and i'm an artist that draws for fun, here are some fact about me! :

I go by any pronouns but most of the time i use she/her or they/them. I'm aroace and a lesbian

My main lenguage is Spanish, but i also know a lot of english and some very very very basic portuguese

I have a tons of OCs and since this thing of posting my drawings is just a hobby, i'm not that active. Still i hope you like my art! I'm also a yapper, so expect a 3 bibles long post along with my drawings when i post.

I have two favorite things ever; cute things, and scary things! And that tends to be what i usually post.

Usually my art is more cutesy then anything but there could be instences where i post something that goes away from that; such as drugs, horror and maybe gore from time to time. It will always have trigger warnings if so, so please keep that in mind

RULES OF THE BLOG:

- This is a safe space for LGBTQ+ people, neurodivergent people, theirians, etc! So i will NOT tolelate any harassment or hate to this groups on this post. Do This and you will be blocked

- be kind to others; don't spread hatred to others becouse of a drawing, ship, or simple preference they have as long it's not problematic. Every ship os welcomed in here as long as it's not traying to romanticize problematic things, such as incest or pedophilia.

- If i post a fan art of your oc, and i sayed or drawed something you don't like on it, plese tell me in the comments so i can edit it or delete it! There will be no problem with it!

And that would be all! I hope you have a nice day and have fun! :]

[anipgarden]

Things to Do that Aren't Related to Growing Plants

This is my second post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps! 

Some of us just don’t have much luck when it comes to growing plants. Some of us simply want to aim for other ways to help that don’t involve putting on gardening gloves. Maybe you've already got a garden, but you want to do more. No problem! There’s a couple of options you can look into that’ll help attract wildlife in your area without even having to bring out any shovels!

Provide a Water Source

Oftentimes when I see ‘add a water source’ in informational articles about improving your backyard for wildlife, it’s almost always followed by an image of a gorgeous backyard pond with a waterfall and rock lining that looks expensive to set up, difficult to maintain, and overall just… not feasible for me. Arguably, not feasible for a lot of people. And that’s okay! There’s still ways to add water in your garden for all kinds of creatures to enjoy!

There’s tons of ways to create watering stations for insects like bees and butterflies. A self refilling dog bowl can work wonders! Add some stones into the receiving tray for insects to land on or use to climb out, and you’ve got a wonderful drinking spot for all kinds of insects! You can also fill a saucer or other dish with small stones and fill it, though it’ll likely need refilling daily or even several times a day during hot times. 

I've seen people online use all kinds of things to make water features. Some go with terra-cotta pots, pebbles, and a cheap pump to get a small and simple fountain. Others use old tires, clay, and a hole in the ground to create an in-ground mini pond system. If all else fails, even a bucket or watertight box with a few plants in it can do the trick--though do be wary of mosquitoes if the water isn’t moving. In situations like these, a solar-powered fountain pump or bubbler are great for keeping the water moving while still making it a drinking option for wildlife (it not even more appealing for some)--and these items can be obtained fairly cheap online!

Bird baths are an option as well--a classic way to provide for birds in your area, they can be easy to find online or in a gardening store! The only downside is that a good, quality bird bath can be pricey up-front. However, a nice stone bird bath should last a long time, be easy to clean and refill, and be enjoyed by many birds! I’ve also seen tutorials on how to make your own with quickcrete! Bird baths will be a welcome sight to birds, as they provide a space for them to drink and bathe to regulate the oils in their feathers for flight and insulation. Putting a stone in the middle will also help insects to escape if they fall in, and provide a place to perch so they can get their own drink. You’ll want to change the water and clean the baths regularly--as often as once a week, if you can manage it.

If possible, it’s highly encouraged to fill and refill water features with rainwater instead of tap water. Tap water is often treated, so instead of using hoses or indoor kitchen water, collecting some rainwater is a great alternative. Collecting rainwater can be as simple as leaving cups, bins, or pots outside for awhile.

Butterflies and other creatures will also drink from mud puddles. If you can maintain an area of damp soil mixed with a small amount of salt or wood ash, this can be fantastic for them! Some plants also excel at storing water within their leaves and flowers (bromeliads come to mind), making them an excellent habitat for amphibians as well as a drinking spot for insects and birds.

Bird Feeders and Bird Houses

Some of the fancy, decorated bird feeders are expensive, but others can be pretty low-cost--I got my bird feeder from Lowe’s for around 10 dollars, and a big bag of birdseed was around another 10 dollars and has lasted several refills! If you don’t mind occasionally buying more birdseed, a single birdfeeder can do a lot to attract and support local birds! If you’re handy, have some spare wood, and have or can borrow some tools, you may even be able to find instructions online to make your own feeder. You may not even need wood to do so! Even hummingbird feeders, I’ve found, are quick to attract them, as long as you keep them stocked up on fresh sugar water in the spring and summer!

An important note with bird feeders is that you have to make sure you can clean them regularly. Otherwise, they may become a vector for disease, and we want to avoid causing harm whenever possible. Also keep an ear out and track if there’s known outbreaks of bird diseases in your area. If local birding societies and scientists are advising you take your birdfeeders down for awhile, by all means, do it!

Bird houses are naturally paired with bird feeders as biodiversity promoters for backyard spaces, and it makes sense. Having bird houses suited to birds in your area promotes them to breed, raise their young, disperse seeds, and generally engage in your surrounding environment. Setting them up takes careful selection or construction, preparation, and some patience, but sooner or later you might get some little homemakers! Keep in mind, you will need to clean your birdhouses at least once a year (if not once per brood) to make sure they’re ready and safe for birds year after year--you wouldn’t want to promote disease and parasites, after all. But they could be a valuable option for your landscape, whether you purchase one or construct your own! 

Again, do make sure you're putting up the right kind of boxes for the right kinds of birds. Bluebird boxes are some I see sold most commonly, but in my area I believe they're not even all that common--a nesting box for cardinals or chickadees would be far more likely to see success here! And some birds don't even nest in boxes--robins and some other birds are more likely to use a nesting shelf, instead! Research what birds live in your area, take note of any you see around already, and pick a few target species to make homes for!

Solitary Bee Houses

A bee house or bee hotel is a fantastic way to support the solitary bees in your area! For a few dollars and some annual cleaning, you can buy a solitary bee house from most big box nurseries. Alternatively, you can make one at home, with an array of materials you may already have lying around! You can even make them so that they’ll benefit all kinds of insects, and not necessarily just bees.

Though you don’t even necessarily have to break out the hammer and nails, buy a ton of bricks, or borrow a staple gun. Making homes for tunneling bees can be as simple as drilling holes in a log and erecting it, or drilling holes in stumps and dead trees on your property. You might even attract some woodpeckers by doing this!

Providing Nesting Area

There are tons of different kinds of bees, and they all make different kinds of homes for themselves. Not all of them make big cavity hives like honey bees, or will utilize a solitary bee house. Bumblebees live in social hives underground, particularly in abandoned holes made by rodents--some others nest in abandoned bird nests, or cavities like hollow logs, spaces between rocks, compost piles, or unoccupied birdhouses. Borer, Ground, and Miner bees dig into bare, dry soil to create their nests. Sparsely-vegetated patches of soil in well-drained areas are great places to find them making their nests, so providing a similar habitat somewhere in the garden can encourage them to come! I do talk later in this document about mulching bare soil in a garden--however, leaving soil in sunny areas and south-facing slopes bare provides optimal ground nesting habitat. Some species prefer to nest at the base of plants, or loose sandy soil, or smooth-packed and flat bare ground. They’ve also been known to take advantage of soil piles, knocked over tree roots, wheel ruts in farm roads, baseball diamonds and golf course sand traps. You can create nesting ground by digging ditches or creating nesting mounds in well-drained, open, sunny areas with sandy or silty soil. However, artificially constructed ground nests may only have limited success. 

Providing Alternative Pollinator Foods

Nectar and pollen aren’t the only foods sought out by some pollinators! Some species of butterflies are known to flock to overripe fruit or honey water, so setting these out can be an excellent way to provide food to wildlife. You may want to be cautious about how you set these out, otherwise it can help other wildlife, like ants or raccoons. Butterflies may also drop by to visit a sponge in a dish of lightly salted water. 

Bat Houses and Boxes

Big or small, whether they support five bats or five hundred, making bat boxes and supporting local bats is a great way to boost biodiversity! Not only will they eat mosquitoes and other pest species, but you may also be able to use the guano (bat droppings) as fertilizer! Do be careful if you choose to do that though--I’ve never had the opportunity to, so do some research into how strong it is and use it accordingly.

Provide Passageway Points

If you want your area to be more accessible for creatures that can’t fly or climb fences, allowing or creating access points can be an excellent way to give them a way in and out. Holes in the bottom of walls or fences can be sheltered with plants to allow animals through. 

In a somewhat similar manner, if you’re adding a water fixture, it’s important to provide animals a way to get into and out of the pond--no way in, and they can’t use the water. No way out, and they may drown. Creating a naturalistic ramp out of wood beams or sticks, or stepped platforms out of bricks, stones, or logs can do the trick. 

Get or Keep Logs and Brush Piles

I’ve already mentioned logs a good handful of times so far in this post. To be used as access ramps, or as nesting areas for solitary bees. But they have value as much more than that! Logs on the ground provide shelter for all kinds of animals, especially depending on size--anything from mice, reptiles, and amphibians to things like turkey vultures and bears will use fallen logs as shelter. Inside of a decaying log, there’s a lot of humidity, so amphibians are big fans of them--meanwhile, the upper sides of them can be used as sunning platforms by things like lizards. Other animals can also use the insides of logs as nest sites and hiding places from predators too big to fit inside. Fungi, spiders, beetles, termites, ants, grubs, worms, snails, slugs, and likely much more can be found inside rotting logs, using the rotting wood as food sources or nesting places. They can then provide food for mammals, amphibians, reptiles, and birds. They can also be regarded as a landmark or territory marker as wildlife get more familiar with your space.

So how do you get logs for cheap? Try Chip Drop! I talk about them more in a future post, but you can mark saying that you’d like logs in your drop, so they’ll give you any they have! In fact, you may even get a drop faster if you're willing to accept some logs. You may also be able to approach arborists you see working in your area and ask for logs. There may also be local online listings for people selling logs for cheap, or just trying to get rid of them. If there’s land development going on near you, you may be able to snag logs from trees they cut down to make space. Do keep in mind, you don’t need to have huge gigantic logs laying around your property to make an impact--even small logs can help a lot.

If possible, creating and leaving brush piles on the edge of your property can be a great boost to biodiversity--even if you may not see the wildlife using it. They’ll provide shelter from weather and predators, and lower portions are cool and shady for creatures to avoid the hot sun. The upper layers can be used as perch sites and nest sites for song birds, while lower layers are resting sites for amphibians and reptiles, and escape sites for many mammals. As the material decays, they also attract insects, and as such they’ll attract insect-eating animals too. As more small animals find refuse in your brush pile, their predators will be attracted to them as well. Owls, hawks, foxes, and coyotes are known to visit brush piles to hunt. Making a brush pile can be as simple as piling branches and leaves into a mound, as big or as small as you want. You can even use tree stumps or old fence posts near the base, and keep stacking on plant trimmings and fallen branches. Do note that you don’t want to do this near anything like a fire pit.

Don't forget, with all of these, your mileage may vary for any variation of reasons, so don't worry if you can't take all of even any of these actions! Even just talking about them with other people may inspire someone else to put out a bat box, or leave a few logs out for wildlife!

That's the end of this post! My next post is gonna be about ways to get seeds and plants as cheaply as possible. For now, I hope this advice helps! Feel free to reply with any questions, success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!

[azlrse]

➳ wally's biggest crush (wally darling x gn!puppet!reader omeshot)

synopsis: even though he's married, his crush on his spouse still retains as he went through a memory lane of how he first met the love of his life

cw: none, just some fluff

a/n: new hyperfixation goes woopp (also inspired from a reddit post) and also, i've added a last name on reader's name to make it more sense

He couldn't just get enough of you. As he continuously sat down on the comfortable armchair that he seems to be fond of while watching you in home's kitchen, making something that smelled absolutely delicious. Maybe it's cookies? Or perhaps a mouth watering baked pie that most of his neighbors loved? He just didn't know on what you are making. Afterall, he is the kind of guy who loved surprises from the love of his life;

(y/n) Darling, or Mx. Darling is what the neighbors called them.

Their generosity and patience towards others is exactly why Wally not only made him curious about you but also didn't expect are the main reasons why he fell hard for you and it all started when he first saw you moving into the neighborhood and greeted the other neighbors with enthusiasm and respect, even offering some of your baked goods as a token of friendship. Wally watched you with curiosity as you loved from different shops to houses until you reached his house. In response, home released a variety of sounds, indicating that it welcomes you into its walls.

The poor puppet's seemed to be a bit shy upon meeting the new neighbor, especially someone as beautiful/handsome as you. 'You can do this, Wally.' he thought to himself, fixing his hair and dusting off his attire. 'Just say hi and welcome them in this neighborhood. Yeah, that should be easy, you can do thi–' When he opens the door, Wally becomes paralyzed and stood as still as possible when his eyes met yours. He could describe you as someone who's soft, welcoming and sweet as sugar. He doesn't even lie that your aura alone makes him warm on the inside.

"Hello there, I'm-"

His mind went blank, doesn't know what to do next and instead, he slammed the door in front of your face.

The way you didn't get mad nor acted cold at him when he first slammed the door in front of your face. You just stood there in confusion, still a tray of cupcakes on your hand as you knocked once again on his door and heard Home's squeaking in retribution and disappointment towards Wally.

squeak!!

squeak!!

bang!

"Ow!!" Wally reacted from the fallen book, hitting his head. "You don't have to do this Home. I have already embarrassed myself in front of them." Onomatopoeic sounds can be heard from the building, threatening the homeowner that it will take drastic measures to get him out from its walls. "Fine fine, you don't have to be harsh, sheesh Home." Finally, Wally got out from his house.

"Um, I am so sorry for the commotion happened here..." He spoke as his eyes glued on the trees above and stared back at your (e/c) eyes. "And about the slamming that door on your face...." In response, you chuckled and gave him a warm smile. "It's fine, don't worry about that. I understand that it was unexpected of you to meet someone new who just moved in this neighborhood today." You replied and silence looms around as Wally continuously stares at you.

"Oh! I wanna give you these cupcakes. They're newly backed and I hope you liked it."

"Thank you new neighbor, that's kinda sweet of you to bake these. I'm Wally by the way, Wally Darling." A smile appeared on his face, taking the cupcakes off your hands. "I'm (y/n) von Sweets!" Grabbing his hand and shaking it, Wally couldn't resist the heat creeping up into his cheeks. Your hands are so soft and warm, just like a newly baked bread from the bakery. "I better head back from my shop that's recently opened, I'll see you around then, Wally." You spoke, waving him good bye as you went your merry way towards the yellow brick road of the neighborhood.

Still standing as still as possible, Wally didn't move from his spot. He just continuously stares at you, up until you disappeared from his point of view and still wondering when he will meet you again. Maybe tomorrow perhaps he will visit you in your bakery while bringing a bouquet of flowers as a token of his friendly gesture to you.

Wally closed the door, now staring at the colorful tray of cupcakes in his hands. "Gosh, ain't they the sweetest, Home?" It squeaked in return. "Such a lovely neighbor, maybe I'll visit them tomorrow." He sighs dreamily, taking a bite of the cupcake and couldn't get enough of the tarty and fruity taste of your baked good.

. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

"Watcha thinking there, sweetheart?" His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice. The smell of his favorite baked pastry begin of consume Home's 4 corners of its walls. "Just the time where I first met you, my darling. I just think to myself; how am I this lucky to be your husband. Me, an ordinary painter?" You giggled, giving him a plate of a sliced apple pie on his hands. "Even after you married me, you still have the biggest crush on me. When will that go away?" You teasingly asked. Wally placed his plate on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap.

You see how his pupils has changed into little hearts. "Never, my love. I am contented of being in love and having a crush on you." You continuously kissed his face, from his eyes to cheeks and finally his favorite part, his lips. The both of you let out a big 'mwah' while kissing each other. The painter felt himself being more and more deeply in love with you as you gave him more of your attention and love.

"I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for being the man of my dreams." You sighed lovingly, now placing your head on his neck. Your husband just looks at you with adoration as he places a kiss on your forehead. "I love you too, my darling. My dearest, dearest darling."

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[halaboyz]

goodnight, dear. — psh

pairing: non-idol! park sunghoon x fem! reader genre: ANGST word count: 16.5k warnings: profanities. reader has illness. simple medical jargons. medical inaccuracies. major character death.

notes: inspired by two filipino books entitled "seven days with miss stalker" written by dara nakahara and "she's dating the gangster" by bianca bernardino.; reader is part of a religion; not discussed, only said for prayers and for giving thanks a/n: ever so dedicated to my now-inactive moot @junjungsunwoo yena <3 it was supposedly part of a collab which was posponed because we all went on a hiatus but! i proceeded with it <3 i love and appreciate all of you <3 tag: @kflixnet

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summary: befriending the ice prince of your school in the middle of the semester abruptly was something you'd never do. so it takes a little bit of life and time before you do, then bravely asking him to date you for a month. that's all- and you promised you'll leave him alone. 

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ 。 listen now to: spotify. 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

D-105.

Just like usual, you head to your seat at the corner of the cafeteria, munching quietly on your brunch beside your best friend. 

“He’s coming!” Both  of you hear a screech and continuous cheers as a huge crowd of girls run outside, candies, chocolates, and sweet things in their hands as they welcome the ice king of your campus. “Sunghoon!” Park Sunghoon. “Sunghoon, you must be sad. Take this! It will help cheer you up!” A girl stands out from the rest, almost shoving the lollipop on Sunghoon’s face. 

He does nothing but continue walking, tailed by his friends with a chuckle that gethered their own small batch of fangirls. 

“Pathetic.” Seol-in mutters beside you, shaking her head. You immediately look at her with a glare, “Oops.” She chuckles, raising her arms in defense. “Forgot I have another fan here.” 

“To say I’m a fan is too much. I only like him.” You mutter, taking your eyes off of him after a few seconds. And then glancing again. Which made Seol-in chuckle.

“Yeah. That’s what fans do. Like a person.” She explains sarcastically, making you roll your eyes. 

“Then I’m not that obsessed.” You point at the group of girls, “I have my respect and dignity for myself intact to do that. Much more when he’s fresh out of a break up.” 

Seol-in stops eating and perks up when she hears you explain, eyebrows meeting in the middle and slowly turning to look you in the eyes.

“And how do you know that Miss ‘I’m not a fan’?” A smirk was drawn on her lips which made you cough, not meeting her eyes. 

“Just here and there.” 

“Hmm. Here and there. Don’t you think if it was here and there, I would’ve known?” Seol-in raises her brows and taps on the table, knowing that it was going to make you more irritable since it was your ick.

“Fine! Sunghoon posted a story on Instagram with a picture of him partying with a caption ‘single again!’ Are you satisfied?!” You unintentionally burst out,  glaring at Seol-in who was now tight-lipped. 

Quite literally. Lips pressed together, she motions you to not look back but stupidity got the best of you that you understood it as turn around. And so you do.

Sunghoon, standing with his tray of food in hand, was looking down at you. 

“So much for broadcasting my love life status,” Sunghoon deadpans, before moving on to sit on the table next to yours. 

It makes you internally shake your head and curse yourself, turning back to face your own food in shame as you hear relentless mocking of his fans. 

“Not like he didn’t post a story captioned ‘I’m single and ready to mingle again!’” Seol-in defended you, shamelessly scaring his fans off with a thugged appearance. You nudge her, making her stop. 

It was just another day of being you. 

D-104.

“Code Blue, Code Blue! Room 316, Female, 21 years old. Code Blue, Code Blue! Room 316, Female, 21 years old…” You hear the speakers call out as everything follows is a slur, your eyes blurring as you struggle to keep sane. You don’t even feel like you were breathing. Were you? All you felt was pain. Excruciating pain the first few minutes and then you were numb. You were numb when nurses and doctors jumped restlessly on you to perform chest compressions. 

It only felt like yesterday when you were quietly sitting on all of your classes, 

It was only yesterday.

“Did you do anything that tired you out? How come you let it get this bad?” The familiar doctor you’d been seeing since you were a kid nags, shaking his head at you. 

“I didn’t.” You retort immediately, regretting it as the sudden jump made your chest tighten, making you grab it. Your doctor assists you back into your bed, snickering at you. 

“Well then, did you watch a sad movie? Felt too happy? Felt too excited? Surprised?” When the temporary pain slowly disappears, you avoid the doctor’s eyes as you mumble a small ‘no.’ “Y/n… We’ve talked about this…” 

“Am I not a person? Why am I not able to feel things as I want to?” You pout, but it was the same line you’ve always said since you were also a kid. And also, the very first question you’ve asked your doctor. When you catch a glimpse of his apologetic eyes, you grow uncomfortable. “I was kidding. I get it.” 

Your dad was watching you from afar, picking on his nails and was still until the doctor called him in. 

“Can I talk to you alone for a sec?” The doctor signals to your father, urging privacy which makes you curious. 

“I’m an adult,” You open, suddenly growing anxious at how your father and the doctor shared gazes. “Please say it in front of me,” 

D-101. 

As the clock strikes 12, you swallow the lump on your throat as the doctor clears his, asking your dad for one last confirmation before he drops the news. 

“As you can see, y/n is neither getting stable or better,” The doctor drops his head, unwilling to see your father’s heartbroken eyes and yours. “...only worse,” 

You heave a deep sigh, balancing your emotions out so as to not feel too sad about this and not to dwell on what’s to come next.

“Y/n… Doesn’t have much time left,” And there comes the shock. Maybe you shouldn’t have really known. If you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be too anxious about living just another day. Your dad weeps, holding your hand desperately as you both feel the world fall on you. “I’d say three months… or less,” The doctor falls his head in shame, pressing his lips together and avoiding both of your eyes. 

D-97. 

“You really want to do this?” Your father asks, bringing your bag to you. “Y/n… You don’t need to. We can travel where you want, eat what you want and do whatever you want.”

“Dad… I’d rather live with the time I have left as a normal person, as I had always done. Wherein I have to go to school on dreaded Mondays, feel happy it’s Friday, and enjoy my Saturdays with my friends or with you, along with Sundays. I’d be thankful to even have that, Dad.” You smile, holding your Dad’s shoulders and pulling him to a hug. “Thank you, Dad.” 

Your father holds his tears and proudly stands his guards on you. Nodding as he arranges your collar back into place and letting you go your way after a few sermons. 

“Y/n!” Seol-in welcomes you with open arms, snot running down her nose and tears out of her eyes. “Are you okay? Why did you even come here?!” She squeezes you into a hug, making you squirm and chuckle. 

“Hey, don’t be so dramatic now. As you can see, I’m okay. I’m good, I’m fine.” You explain, hitting your limbs to show her that you’re indeed thriving. 

She whines and pulls you into a hug again, and you just let her until she’s calmed down, walking to your first class.

“So, what did the doctor say?” 

“Hmm,” You hesitate, thinking whether to break the news or not. You opted it wasn’t the right setting. “Nothing new. I just had a burst out that’s why I had the attack. Sorry for worrying you,” You pout, clinging to her arm and changing to another topic as you found available seats.

She assures you and swears to look after you better as you wait for the class to start, your eyes roaming around to take in the sight. You act like it’s your last day. You wish you could be here for much longer. But you know you’d be taken any time from now on. 

Your breath stops exaggeratedly when you realize the available seat next to you was pulled to reveal Sunghoon sitting next to you uninterestedly, not batting you an eye. Seol-in nudges you knowing perfectly well how you’re not managing.

“Deep breaths, y/n! Control your heart!” Seol-in lightheartedly whispers, rubbing your back. You lean back at your seat to get a glance at Sunghoon, who only had eyes on his phone. You breathe through pursed lips, rubbing your chest as if it made a difference on your abnormally beating heart.

It’s just sitting next to you, what’s the big point?

See, the big point is, through the years you’d been blockmates with this man, fate had never ever brought you near each other even if you were given the smallest classrooms. So it was indeed a big deal that someone you’ve liked throughout the years was now beside you. 

Say, you’d be brazen enough to even claim this as a sign to finally get to talk to him. You’d always been the ambivert, so this time, it was time to bring out your extrovert-ness just to get close to him. 

Not going to hurt to try, eh?

“Hi Sunghoon,” You smile, fully facing him as you put your chin on your palm to lean on the table. He curiously, confusedly gives you a glance, blinking at you. “You look good today,” Your confidence was also a great shock to you, knowing full well that if it was the last-week-you that was in this situation, you wouldn’t have uttered even one word.  

“Y/n, you’re creeping me out.” Sunghoon mumbles, scooting away from you. You chuckle, shaking your hands before him.

“Sorry, I just wanted you to know.” Seol-in watches in horror, just as confused as Sunghoon. You fumble back on your seat after that, smiling at Seol-in and even chuckling at yourself for your unpredictableness. You think that was enough for today.

At least, if it were your last, you had the opportunity to make him feel appreciated in the most weird way, at a random time possible. 

Because come on, fuck it! Where your tomorrow isn’t even guaranteed, what more could you lose than regret?

D-94.

“Your partners are revealed in our respective group chats, so start immediately,” Your professor leaves after her last remarks, and all of you start to check your phones for your partners. You hear grunts and cheers, and as for you…

“Oh yeah!” You growl, raising your fist in the air as if you’ve just won the lottery. Everyone stops and grows quiet, looking at you horridly. “Oops, sorry.” You smile, your eyes searching for that one guy you heard grunting a while ago. “...Park Sunghoon!” You coo, making your way towards him cheekily. 

Sunghoon just looks in confusion, weirded out by how you were acting since two days ago. “Are you possessed? What is up to you these days? We’re never really close and talked so…” His face said it all, he was confused to his bones. 

“Is it bad that I wanted to be friends with you?” You invite yourself to the seat next to him, plopping. “It’s our last year in college, I want to be close to everyone!” 

“After all these years? How about no?” Sunghoon again, scoots further from you and starts skimming through his book, trying to get the project over with just ten minutes in from the second he read the instructions. 

“No? You don’t want to be friends?” You pout, confidence significantly decreasing… and increasing with your idea.

“Hmm, I don’t want to. So don’t waste your time,” Sunghoon sighs and continues with his work.

“If you don’t want to…” You mumble… scooting closer and in front of him to cover the book with your palm, getting his attention. You give him the cheekiest smile you can give, “Then do you want to be my boyfriend?” 

D-90.

“Then just give me one month! Be my boyfriend for a month! That’s it and I wouldn’t even go five meters close to a piece of your hair!” You argue, as if your deal offer was making sense. It had been one week since you have been offering a deal to Sunghoon, and not much like the first time he heard it– where his jaw dropped and sneered at you as if you had just lost your mind. Now, where you sit confidently against him as he quietly has his lunch, he doesn’t even spare you and your bullshit a glance. “Park Sunghoon!” You whine, throwing a fit. It gains a lot of attention including his fangirls who you genuinely heard growling, which made you fake a cough and glare at him. “I’m not done with you just yet,” You drop your hand on the table, making him groan and roll his eyes.

Seol-in watches how you trudge back to your shared table, scratching her head.

“Hey y/n, have you really really lost your mind?” She asks with such genuine voice and concern, grabbing your hand. “Why the hell are you asking Park Sunghoon out for a week already? That’s not you,” 

“It’s definitely me, Seol-in.” You chuckle, patting her hand. “And what’s so wrong about a girl asking a man out? Stop being prejudiced!” You take a spoonful of your food, watching Seol-in. “Just eat already,” 

“I just don’t get it. There’s something wrong,” She shakes her head but leaves it to you, knowing full well you know what you’re doing. “But no!” She exclaims, making you jump. “Just last week we were talking about how you’re not even that obsessed and how you’re so defensive about being one of his fangirls!” 

“But I did admit that I liked him,” You chuckle, proving your point.

“But! I don’t think it was enough that you ask him out! Above all that, when he’s fresh out of a break up!” You stop, letting Seol-in’s words sink in. She was right. Sunghoon was fresh out of a break up and you just had to add up to the girls jumping in on him. 

“Ah, I don’t know! I’ll do whatever,” You shake it off, continuing to munch on your food as Seol-in continues to berate you. 

D-80. 

“Sunghoon, I’m not saying this because I have a big self-esteem and ego but, I don’t think you notice this.” You flip your hair exaggeratedly, even though he wasn’t looking at you. You were at a quiet corner in the library, allegedly working on your project. “...but I’m a really good pick!” Sunghoon snorts and finally looks at you in amusement, and you straighten your posture as if you were in an interview.

“You? A good pick?” Sunghoon repeats, and you nod.

“I really am! I’m pretty, I have my acads with straight A’s, I have a good relationship with my family! What more can you ask for?” You arrogantly list out your pros, crossing your arms right after. 

“And your cons?” Sunghoon mimics your movement, as if trying to challenge you. 

“I don’t have one.” You avoid his eyes for a second, because if you listed that out too, it will outnumber your pros. “So please give me one month of your life,” You exaggerate, begging as you rub your palms together in front of him. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“I’m completely being sincere and serious, though.” You were close to whining once again, flapping your arms around. 

“You don’t look like it,” Sunghoon sighs and gets back to your project, possessing a small smirk that ticked you off. 

“Come on, Park Sunghoon!” 

“Y/n.” Sunghoon sternly stops your whining, looking straight into your eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but please don’t take it out on me. I’m not interested. If you keep doing this, it will grow on me that you’re taking advantage of my vulnerability since I was just out of a relationship and I don’t want to think that of you,” He explains with such a solemn face that you grow embarrassed of your actions immediately, shrinking on your seat. “I’m sorry but can we please proceed to the project now?” 

You harbor a pout and unintentionally have it until you were done, cleaning your things up. 

“Can you stay here for a bit? I’ll just go get something.” You leave Sunghoon before he could even say something, leaving your  things to assure him you were coming back. You only grab your phone and wallet, traveling to the closest cafe. When you travel back to the library, you catch a glimpse of Sunghoon through the large windows, legs impatiently bouncing as he looks around for you. 

“Okay. If he’s not for me then he’s not for me.” You mumble, sighing and proceeding to jog inside the library and go straight to the table. You put the cup of drink and slide it across the table, nodding at him. “Iced vanilla latte. Your favorite right? I’ve seen you order these a lot,” You heave a deep sigh. He raises an eyebrow before he takes it, “That’s not a bribe. That’s an apology gift.” Sunghoon takes a sip and confusingly looks up to you, “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention at all.” 

“Y/n,” Sunghoon starts but you cut him off with a pat on the shoulder, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safely!” You get your things quickly and wave goodbye, getting your things and not giving him a chance to talk. 

Leaving Sunghoon with a bitter taste in his mouth and it’s definitely not because of the coffee.

D-76.

“Oh y/n, good thing you’re here,” Sunghoon starts, wanting to talk the heavy feeling in his chest out since the library incident. 

“Sunghoon! Don’t worry about it, I’ve finished everything on the project! We can pass it later already,” 

“That’s not it,” Sunghoon stops you by the arm but you look at your watch as if you were in a rush.

“Sorry, but I have to run. You can text me if you see any mistakes on my part, I’ll correct it immediately.” You apologize and Sunghoon lets you go and nods at you, thinking it wasn’t the right time yet to apologize if he had offended you. 

Sunghoon has been bearing it in his chest and mind that he shouldn’t have put you out like that, blaming his stress that was on its peak that day.

Heeseung chuckles as he looks at Sunghoon’s eyes which never leave your figure until it completely disappears, but having to opt not to say anything about it first.

D-72.

“Y/n!” Sunghoon shouts through the hallway, making you stop and hide your face. “Y/n!” He repeats, and you hear him run to chase you. You sigh, deciding to just face him instead. 

“Oh, Sunghoon,” You smile, turning to face him. “Do you need something?” Knowing you’ve completed your project with him and nothing more, so it was a given that you’re confused. He had clear intentions he didn’t want to be friends, so why does he keep chasing you down everywhere you go?

“Are you free for lunch?” He fumbles with the books in his hand, avoiding your eyes.

“I was going to go with Seol-in, as always,” You chuckle, “Why? Did we need to revise something in the project?” 

“Ah… no. But can we talk for a minute, then?” He lets out a small sigh,  hands already asking you to follow him in a space where nobody was. You nod hesitantly, just following him then.

“What is it? You sound serious,” You follow him to your now empty classroom, sitting on the seat out front. He leans on the table in front of it, and heaves another sigh. 

“I was trying to get a hold of you the past few days but you’ve been busy,” He finally lets out a chuckle, nodding at you. “I wanted to apologize about what I said in the library that time. I was out of line,” He admits his wrong immediately, smiling at you. 

You finally let out a sigh of relief, now knowing what was on his mind. 

“Sunghoon, why are you apologizing for that? I should be. I was the one out of line.” You assure him, shaking your hands in his face. “Do you know how I’ll feel if you apologize for something I did?” 

“No, no. It was just weighing my mind and I didn’t want you to think that I thought bad of you. You said that your intentions weren’t that so maybe I went off the wrong way how I said it.” He holds your hand to stop you from shaking it in front of him, feeling his warmth engulf your hands.

“Fine, fine. Then we’re even already. That will do it, won't it?” You smile at him, craning your neck until you get an answer for him. 

“I owe you a coffee. I’ll treat you next time,” He pats your hand, smiling back at you.��

“I don’t drink coffee, so there’s no need. Let’s just eat lunch and leave all this in the past, alright?” You realize he’s still holding your hand which makes you slowly take yours back, smiling and patting his shoulder once again. “Let’s go?” 

D-70. 

Sunghoon’s curiosity towards you grew and grew the moment your interactions blew less and less, only decreasing to hi’s and hello’s and his days were a lot bland without your yapping and blabbering. Even though you had only done this for a week, it had grown on him especially because you weren’t initially close at all. 

“Why does my friend look especially troubled today?” Heeseung drops his body towards the man, plopping beside him on the bean bag. “Something bothering you?”

“I don't think so,” But Sunghoon keeps on staring afar, unbothered to look at his concerned friend. 

Which is giving him a stink eye now.

“You know what, fine, don't tell me. Mister I keep everything to myself because I’m a cool guy and cool guys don't have problems,” Heeseung nags, mocking Sunghoon’s usual deadpanned face with a sneer. 

Sunghoon chuckles lowly and sighs, shaking his head at Heeseung.

“I’m just confused. That’s all.” He explains, making Heeseung look back at him in anticipation. A few quiet seconds pass and Heeseung sighs in frustration, throwing the pillow in Sunghoon’s chest.

“Oh come on! That’s it?! Tell me everything! You’re driving me crazy!” 

“What…” Sunghoon mumbles with a chuckle, looking at Heeseung losing his mind as he flaps his limbs around. “Okay, okay.” He deeply sighs again, playing with his fingers. “It’s about y/n.” 

“Finally! Wait, what?” Heeseung internally screams, but displays a face of confusion, raising his eyebrows at Sunghoon. “You’ve finally gotten rid of her within a week, what do you mean when you say it’s about y/n and that you’re confused?” 

Sunghoon clicks his tongue and props himself to look at Heeseung face to face, showing seriousness and his determined face to understand every bit of what he’s feeling now. 

“Exactly.” Sunghoon nods at Heeseung as if he’s waiting for an answer, and when he gets nothing, he nods again for Heeseung’s confirmation. 

“What do you want me to say, dumbass?” He throws a pillow right through Sunghoon’s head, and as he’d like to describe, so fucking frustrated.

“Stop hitting me! And I don’t know! That’s why I’m confused!” Sunghoon, also frustrated, has laid out his empty hands to Heeseung to show he’s got nothing to offer than that.

“I ought to just smack you in the fucking face, really.” Heeseung suppresses his annoyance and just massages his temples, rolling his eyes so hard he saw the back of his head. “Tell me something so I can say something too, you know,” 

“I just… I don’t know, Seung. I think it’s my fault too.” Sunghoon explains, “Just a few weeks ago, we started talking because of that damned project. Not even one week  in and she asks me to be his boyfriend. I decline. Also becoming her friend. And then I shoot her something offensive and air shifts and then suddenly she’s not talking to me anymore that much and I apologize and I don’t know, we’re friends?” He rambles on, and it takes a little more patience out of Heeseung to not pull his hair out. 

“So, what the fuck’s confusing?” Heeseung asks through gritted teeth. Admit it, dumbo! He thinks.

“Are we friends or not? Am I allowed to keep it casual and talk about random things with her or am I just supposed to smile and greet and walk off? That’s confusing.” As if a light bulb has just turned on inside his head, Sunghoon perks at the clear question that’s been allegedly bugging him. 

But on the other hand, oh he’s stupid-stupid. Heeseung thinks.

“Didn’t you decide to put it behind you? Then you could answer the question yourself, Hoon! You could come up to her casually and just whatever,” Heeseung still gives him a light piece of advice, knowing it’s not the right time to put mind into Sunghoon’s actions. 

“Maybe, I guess.” Sunghoon hesitantly nods, finally letting peace take over his mind and say fuck it. 

D-68.

“Seol-in, do you know what time Physics starts?” You randomly ask, at a random time in the middle of the day, in the middle of a random lunch, at a random table. 

“In twenty minutes,” A manly voice took over your random conversation, making you look up. You see Sunghoon and Heeseung gently placing their trays of food beside you and Seol-in, scrunching your forehead in confusion. “Sorry, were the seats taken?” 

“Absolutely not,” Seol-in answers, cheeks full of food but harboring the same expression as you. The two men nod and sit, starting with their food. She kicks your shin lightly below the table and as you shake your shoulders lightly, you just decide to continue with your food in silence.

“I’m sorry, did we scare you?” Heeseung chuckles, glancing at you. He was sitting diagonally in front of you, beside Seol-in. 

“Oh, no. You’re cool,” You chuckle as well and shake your hands in front of you, finishing your food just as they did. Sunghoon glances weirdly at you, seeing how well you blend in with people you don’t even really talk to, just like with him. “Were we weird?” You carry on with the conversation, eyes staying at Heeseung only. 

“We definitely felt your eyes on us,” Heeseung jokes around, and stands up the same time you do to return your trays. Seol-in and Sunghoon watch in horror how you both click, just like two peas in a pod. You and Heeseung both laugh when you realize it, going together to the booth to return your trays.

“Wow, did I move down y/n’s best friend list just like that?” Seol-in says as her eyes stay at the both of you walking away, the same Sunghoon was doing. 

“Same,” Sunghoon shakes his head in disapproval, going with Seol-in awkwardly to tail the both of you. 

It ends up as you and Heeseung share a light conversation, Seol-in and Sunghoon are quietly following. Sunghoon had a plan in mind but it was not this. And Heeseung knows that. So he coughs exaggeratedly, catching everyone’s attention. He shares a short look with Heeseung (a bit of a glare as for Sunghoon) and Heeseung makes up a not-so-obvious excuse to get him and Seol-in out of the picture. 

“Oh, Seol-in! I think we forgot to pay for our lunch a while ago,” Good going, Sunghoon thought. “We should head back,” Heeseung pulls a confused Seol-in by the arm.

“I did, though?” Seol-in furrows her brows and rethinks whether she did or not, and she was positive she did.

“We should go to be sure. I didn’t see you pay a while ago,” 

“We can come with you,” You offer, but…

“No!” Sunghoon suddenly shouts, making you jump in surprise, glaring at him. 

“Why?” You question. Are you and Seol-in are the only ones so fucking confused right now? 

“We’re going to be late.” Sunghoon excuses, eyes looking around in hysteria.

“I think we have enough time,” 

“Just go, y/n. Save us some seats,” Seol-in finally jumps on the train, feeling too anxious about leaving the cafeteria without paying for what she ate. 

You hesitantly nod, urging Sunghoon to come, which finally made him sigh in relief. 

“Are you guys okay?” You ask, sitting on your usual seat while Sunghoon took the one next to you. You both save Seol-in and Heeseung seats beside you. “And now you’re also sitting with us?”

“Weren’t we always?” He shakily chuckles, and your suspicion grows bigger. 

“Did you do something wrong to us, perhaps?” 

“My god, no.” He lets out a hearty laugh at your joke, but when he faces you, he was shocked at how serious you were. “No, y/n. Can’t we sit with you guys? We’ll leave if you say so,” 

“No, not that. It’s just that it’s so random. How come?” You rhetorically ask, preparing your materials for the class. You decided to leave it at that, but Sunghoon isn’t done just yet. After a few minutes of dead air, he clears his throat. 

“Do you have classes tomorrow?” He, at last, asks what he has been meaning to since a while ago (read: two days ago, when realizations have hit), and you blink at him. 

“No, why?”

“Plans?” 

“Nope. Stay at home, maybe. Why?” 

“I was thinking…” 

“What?” 

“I, uh…”

“Sunghoon, what?” 

“Oh my god, I can’t.” 

“What, fucking hell, spit it out!” 

“If you’d want to go get dinner with me tomorrow, gosh! I didn’t know you’re so vulgar with your friends!” Sunghoon unintentionally bursts out after the conversation rally, making heads turn. You blink at him once again, and he shrinks in shame. “Sorry,” 

“I thought you didn’t want to be friends?” Out of all the things he said, that’s what you asked. Sunghoon blinks as well, regaining his composure.

“That’s going to cost me a wonderful person now, am I?”

And that one random day, became one day that you treasured more than the others.

D-67.

“You’re supposed to rest, y/n,” Your dad stops you from preparing your outfit to leave, shaking his head. “I told you, if you’re going to go to school five to six times a week, then the last day was supposed to be a rest day.” 

“Dad, it’s just dinner…” You whine, pouting. “Besides, I know what to do and not to do.” 

“Seol-in wouldn’t be there to look over you,” 

“Dad, I’m not some kid needing for someone to look over me,” You sigh, still picking out your clothes anyway. “I know that you’re worried, Dad. Do you think I’ll do something that I know you’ll get more worried about?” 

And when you say that, your father surrenders with a breath of hesitation, and of course, reminding you of some things.

“This wouldn’t be a normal occasion, would it?” He asks to make sure before you head out, holding your arm. You smile at him and nod, “Okay. Be safe, darling. Text me updates and lastly, home at 10PM, sharp. No more, can less.” You chuckle, nodding again before hugging him and taking your leave. 

The diner Sunghoon picked was just a few blocks away, so you opted to walk since you had time to spare. And on the way there, you can’t seem to keep the smile inside. 

“If I didn’t even know I could die any day now, I wouldn’t even think this night would be possible.” You whisper to yourself, pressing your lips together to a tight smile. “Thank you for giving me another day,” You inhale sharply, closing your eyes for a moment and letting your head fall back to look at the night sky. 

Meanwhile, Sunghoon sees you standing there with your neck (almost) broken to take in much of the night sky. He chuckles, jogging to you and from his height, could look down straight at you from your position. 

“Oh, you’re here,” You laugh, your view of him upside down but you could recognize the face in any form or shape. Well, you’ve been in love with him for years. “Sorry, the sky was so pretty,”

Sunghoon looks up as well but the sky bore no anything, just pitch black with not even signs of dark clouds forming, the moon nowhere to be seen and stars hiding due to the city lights. His face contorts into confusion, thinking what made you say that such a pitch black-ed sky was pretty enough for you to thank the lords for another day.

“Let’s head in?” You ask, and when you’ve finally settled to a table with your food, you start to munch down. “What’s with dinner?” 

“Huh?” Sunghoon asks, covering his full mouth. 

“What’s with dinner? Why not breakfast or lunch or just the afternoon out? Are you planning on murdering me on the way back so there’s less people?” Your joke makes Sunghoon choke on his food and you laugh wholeheartedly, even grabbing your chest to keep it on radar. 

“Are you kidding me? Do I look like such a person?” Sunghoon drinks his soda and pats his chest to calm down, glaring at you. 

“I was kidding, loosen up. You just looked nervous, that’s all. That’s why I joked around.” You smiled cheekily, scrunching your nose at him. “Unless…” 

“Hey!” Sunghoon stops you and you have another round of laughter, shaking your spoon at him. He shakes you off and when you’ve calmed down, “I just thought breakfast would seem too eager, a lunch too usual, an afternoon out with what? Cafe’s? When you don’t even drink coffee?”

Your movements slow when you hear that, hearing your own heartbeat right in your ears. You take in a whole two breaths to calm down, even swallowing the non-existent lump on your throat.

“You remember that?” 

“You said that like, four days ago. I’m not that stupid,” He shakes it off as if it wasn’t a big deal for him to remember, but as you dwell on it, you only said that like it was a passing sentence, just one of the many you’ve dropped that day. “Did I remember wrong?” He stops eating and looks at you with wide eyes, anxiety evident in it. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, you absolutely remembered right,” You finally continue eating as he sighs in relief, delving into his own food. 

“Why don’t you drink coffee though? I think you’re the first one I know that doesn’t,” 

“Ah…” You hesitate whether to tell him or not, so to not ruin the mood, you just carry on with no intentions of telling him. “Just don’t like the bitter taste,” 

Sunghoon nods in approval, and the dinner continues with light conversations and hearty laughs, clueless about the night deepening outside the windows. 

“Thank you for tonight, Sunghoon. I don’t know what’s gotten to you for you to suddenly offer dinner but it sure did make my night,” You chuckle, waving goodbye as you stood right in front of your porch. “You should go, be safe. Text me when you arrive so I know and that I wouldn’t be suspected for murder if you’re found dead,” 

“Hey, knock on wood!” He points and whines at you, but soon a chuckle still leaves his lips. 

“Fine, fine.” You coo him, knocking on the wood on your porch and then patting him on the shoulder. “You should really go now,”

“You head in first. I’ll go when I see you come in safely,” He nods at you, smiling. “Thank you as well, y/n.” 

You smile, and you think you won’t stop pushing and pulling if you don’t put a stop to it now, chuckling, nodding then finally turning your back at him.

“Uh, y/n,” He calls out once again and you turn curiously, raising your brows. Sunghoon looks fidgety, unable to meet your eyes and chest heaving up and down heavily. 

“What is it? Are you okay?” You step closer, taking a good look at him. “Do you want to head in for a glass of water first? You’re going to drive. I can’t let you leave like that.” 

“Your offer.” He starts, grabbing your arm and then finally staring right through your eyes softly. 

“Huh?”

“Can I still take it?” 

“What the hell are you on about?” 

“Being your boyfriend for a month. You offered that to me a few weeks ago, right? Can I still take it?” He speaks faster than normal, but it was all clear to you. It rang through your ears along with the beat of your heart, through the gush of the wind, and the almost inevident, almost whispers of the neighbors enjoying the last hours of the night in their own homes. “Can I still be your boyfriend for a month?” 

D-65. 

To taste your own medicine was a punch in the face. You’ll never even guess or dare think that you’ll be able to get this far. You knew your idea was ridiculous, you didn’t know that Sunghoon agreeing to it would be more ridiculous. You can’t even explain into words how your life has been quiet, full of restraints due to your illness, and now, you’ve gotten yourself into so much trouble that you can’t back down. 

Because why the hell was Sunghoon standing on your porch at five fifty-six in the morning? 

“Who’s this gentleman?” Your father, who has, let me emphasize, had never ever missed a day driving you to school, questioned when he got surprised after opening the door. He eyes you after Sunghoon eyes you, waiting for an answer. 

“Ah…” You chuckle nervously, scratching your head. “Sunghoon, my dad. Dad…” You crane your neck, thinking of an introduction. “Sunghoon, just a good friend.” You give your dad a tight-lipped smile, and then turn to Sunghoon. “What are you doing here, good friend?” You give him a glare secretly, turning away from your dad. 

“Sir, good morning.” Sunghoon smiles and reaches his hand out for your dad to shake, “I’m here this early in the morning to get your permission, sir.” Your dad cranes his neck curiously, shooting you and Sunghoon curious looks. “I wanted to take your daughter to school today, so I waited for an hour,” He smiles, and your dad shakes his hand. 

Your dad takes a minute to think and answer, because all he knew to do in the morning was to take you to school because of his overflowing concern for his only daughter. 

“I’ll get her there safe and sound, you don’t need to worry,” He claps his hand to show his car, smiling nervously. You stood there unmoving, staring at Sunghoon weirdly. 

“Dad, it’s okay, he was the one who drove me home last night,” Your dad grows suspicious and you regret saying that, making his eyebrows meet in the middle.

“You’re the one my daughter met alone last night for dinner?” You sigh in irritation, massaging your temples. 

Sunghoon nods and his hands come together to fumble badly, and you can see it glistening from the formed sweat of nervousness. 

“Okay, then,” Your head whips to your dad in question, confirming it. “I’ll pick you up later,” 

“Uh, actually, I can do that too,” Sunghoon smiles at your father, this time around unnerved, “And I can do that for the following days as well,”

Your jaw drops to the floor and you internally sigh, eyes closing tightly. You never knew the game you started was this dangerous.

“Your father agreed.” Sunghoon smiles but keeps his eyes on the road, giddy. 

“When you corner him like that he’ll have no choice but to, am I wrong?” You sigh, “Sunghoon, you don't need to.”

“I want to. Plus, it's just for a month.” He glances at you and then his eyes were back on the road, but you don't meet his eyes. “What's wrong? Didn't you ask for this?” He chuckles nervously, afraid that he might've crossed the line. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m worried that you're uncomfortable.” You quickly retort, perking on your seat. “I know I said things, asked things. It was ridiculous, Sunghoon. You know it is, so why are you doing this?”

Sunghoon puts his car on hazard, unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to look at you. 

“You know what, it is ridiculous.” He chuckles, “But it was interesting. You're interesting. How come you only want the Park Sunghoon for a month, right?” He quotes and unquotes, “I want it. I want to do it because you're interesting. No jokes included.” He grabs your hand and pats it. And you share a thoughtful gaze right through each other's orbs for a minute before he sharply inhales. “Now, we have to get going before we're late for anatomy,” 

D+1.

“Your lunch,” Before you even get to order your lunch for today with Seol-in, Sunghoon places a iunchbox neatly in front of you. “I prepared those,” You look at him curiously and he nods at you to open it, and it reveals your usual palate and diet, fruits and vegetables. It takes you a while how Sunghoon had known you always ate these, and once again, your heartbeat rang through your ears. You were glowing faint red, and it makes Sunghoon nervous. “Why? Don't you like these?”

“How did you know?” Seol-in raises her eyebrows at Sunghoon, and he immediately refutes.

“No… I just… uh, always saw her with these, so I assumed…” He mumbles bad, and Heeseung breaks into laughter. Sunghoon looks at him with a look of help, trying to excuse himself out of the situation.

“I think everybody noticed, y/n. Don't think too much of it,” Heeseung shakes his hand in front of you lightheartedly, and you just nod.

“Thank you,” You smile at Sunghoon, preparing to dive in to the lunch he gave you. Sunghoon plops in front of you as Seol-in and Heeseung goes off to buy their own. You look at Sunghoon who opens his own, and your mouth agape when you realize you have the same content. He notices this and smiles at you, patting your hand. 

“I just thought you'd feel pressured and uncomfortable eating that alone,” He explains, and then takes a bite of his cucumber.

“Thank you, Sunghoon.” And words were never enough to express how grateful and seen you were. Especially from the man himself you liked. Especially when you take a greater look of the fruits and vegetables so delicately cut with others cut like flowers and others just with design. 

D+3.

“Are you free the day after tomorrow?” Sunghoon grabs the books you hugged as you made your way to his car, the sun setting which signaled your dismissal.

“I have one class in the morning and nothing to do after that, why?” 

“Perfect. Let’s go on a date.” 

You stop on your tracks, clutching your chest as you numbered your breaths, even wobbling in your position. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Sunghoon runs up to you and grabs your arms, crouching down to see you better. Your eyes meet and you nod, giving him a small smile. “Don’t scare me like that,” 

“Then don’t say things like that out of the blue,” You lightly hit his shoulder, chuckling. Your chest still stings but mildly bearable, so you start walking slowly and Sunghoon matches your pace. 

“Okay, sorry. I’ll ask your dad for permission later though.” He giggles, and he opens the passenger’s seat door for you and even covers the top of the lining of the car to protect your head from bumping on it. “Where do you want to go? Amusement parks? Zoo? Aquarium? Tell me,” 

Sunghoon pops in his seat and starts his car, oftenly glancing at you. 

“Anywhere with you, Hoon.”

D+4.

“Surprise!” You habitually grab your chest to calm yourself down, grabbing onto the next thing, rather person, next to you, Seol-in. She reaches for your back and rubs it looking at you worriedly. “Sorry, are you bad with surprises?” Sunghoon grabs your arm to properly stand you up, scratching his head. 

Seol-in almost lectures him but you stop her, shaking your head.

“She is. Very bad. So don’t do it again,” Seol-in shortens, and then looks at you worriedly again. You squeeze her arm to assure her, giving her a side hug before bidding goodbye.

“Sorry,” Sunghoon gets your bag slinging from your shoulders and slings it to his. “I didn’t know.” 

“That’s okay.” You smile at him. “You didn’t know.” 

D+6.

Sunghoon, with his arm held out, bore a bouquet of sweet heliotropes, your favorite flower.

“Oh my god,” You exclaim, gently getting it off his hands for you to admire more closely. “Heliotropes?” Of course you’ll recognize your favorite flowers. But just to be sure, you turn to Sunghoon and he nods with a smile. “These are so hard to find! Where did you get this?” 

“I have my ways,” And Sunghoon won’t just simply admit he drove fifty miles away just for the flowers you liked, checking flower shop by flower shop to see if it had them. 

“And you knew these were my favorite, how?” You didn’t bat him a glance with your eyes glued on the flowers, touching every flower with your index finger gently. 

“I asked Seol-in,” Sunghoon admires how you admired the flowers, and how you were so casually dressed (which he had reminded you about) but so enticing to see. Everything around you and you screamed exuberantly, and Sunghoon was quite regretful how he had managed to ignore and have unknown of your existence after all these years. Yet, he was also quite happy. He's a lucky man who’s got to experience it now, thinking, it’s better late than never.

“So, where are we going?” 

“That’s a secret.” Sunghoon teasingly raises his eyebrows repeatedly before honking courtesy to your dad waiting for him to drive off, worry unetched from his face unlike the first time Sunghoon drove you off.  “You can guess though. I’ll tell you if you’re right.” 

“That throws excitement out of the bus.” You shake your head. “But the aquarium. I love fishes and maybe Seol-in told you that too,” He laughs out loud when you guess anyway, making you giggle. 

“I wouldn’t tell. It’ll throw excitement out of the bus,” Sunghoon quotes you, booping your nose for a second before turning back to face the road again. “Brace yourself. It’s going to be quite a long ride.” 

You nod curiously, thinking of places where you can go out of the radar until you’ve drifted off to sleep. 

You’re awoken with your seat leaned back, seatbelt undone and Sunghoon’s jacket draped over your body. You quickly rise and look for Sunghoon beside you, but he isn't there. Only do you take a good look outside, and your jaw drops open. 

“Oh my god,” It feels like you’re in a story book of a fairytale, feeling every step of yours slowly and every second in time reeling in. “Sunghoon…” You step closer to Sunghoon, back on you as he admires the view in front of you. 

The soft grass tickled your legs and Sunghoon’s hand slowly warmed your hand as he held you tight beside him, the breeze passing through you as you held onto Sunghoon’s jacket on your body with your other, and the amazingly breathtaking view of the almost grassy volcano in front of you. It emitted a picture-perfect scene that you thank the gods for a perfect day that the clouds did not cover almost half of it, fog forming on top of it that it was just so immaculate to the eyes. 

“Do you like it?” Sunghoon turns to you like the view in front of him wasn’t enough he had to turn to you.

“...Like it?” You were able to utter out, head turning to him as your eyes followed. “I love it so much that I can’t… breathe, Sunghoon.” You were holding your tears, unable to grasp your chest to stabilize your breathing because of your busy hands.

Sunghoon just laughs and takes it as a light joke, pressing his lips and grabbing your shoulders softly to turn you to face him. He stares at you for a few more moments before his hands drop to hold yours, rubbing it with his thumb. 

“Sunghoon… I can’t breathe,” Your tears finally left your eyes, seeming never ending as you feel everything you needed to feel a little… more. Your blood rushing, the goosebumps you’re having a little too uncomfortable to have, the grass now too prickly to your skin, your tears a bit more wet, breeze too cold for your liking, his palms too warm and rough from the calluses he had, your heart thumping a little too hard and his eyes a little less intimidating… in time which is the one that served as your oxygen that calms you down. So you tug his hands softly and swiftly bring your arms around his shoulders, leaning in for a hug. “Thank you, Sunghoon. It’s beautiful.” 

Sunghoon smiles as he brings his arms up to hug you back, feeling his hand rub your back to calm you down.

“I didn’t even dare think I’d see this up close this lifetime,” You explain, smiling at him with your face damp with tears. “Thank you, Sunghoon. I don’t think I’ll ever say those words enough.” 

Sunghoon sighs in relief and holds your hand, smugly turning to the view in front of him and so do you. 

“Well, aren't Seol-in and your dad such great sources? I think I’m getting to know you half better because of them,” He chuckles, and you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

“Dad told you about here?” 

“He did. I asked. He said he isn’t able to get you here because he was too much of a coward to do so, which I have no idea why he said that.” He shrugs, and you hold your head down. You knew your father was afraid that you were going to feel extreme emotions just like how you did a few minutes ago, and that he would absolutely have no idea what to do if it happens. So he just avoids it and decides to never bring you here himself. 

It wasn’t on his year's bingo card for Sunghoon to show up and do everything with you that he was scared to do. You know that he probably thinks— if he didn’t know you were sick, will he be able to do the things Sunghoon is able to do for you, for his only daughter? Will he be able to take you to places you liked, wanted to go, let you eat whatever you wanted to, let you do whatever you wanted to do? 

If he had the choice, he would let you. But he doesn’t. And you don’t. 

“What are you thinking so deeply about?” Sunghoon slightly shakes your intertwined hands, getting your attention from the scenery before you. 

“How I should relieve this view every morning. So I’m memorizing every bit like a painting,” You explain, nudging his side.

“Shouldn’t you be getting me in the view then?” He shakes your hand off softly before he poses in front of you cheekily, striking random ones which make you laugh. “Your handsome boyfriend brought you here, so—”

“I already memorized each of your features, Sunghoon. You don’t need to do that,” You grab his hand to hold once again, and this time around, it was Sunghoon’s turn to feel flustered. “Oh, you’re getting red!” You point at his face, and it makes you hold your tummy to laugh aloud. Sunghoon turns around with ihs back on you to compose himself, feeling blood stay in his face and ears for a good half an hour every time he remembers what you said. 

—

“Is that a church? Can we drop by for a second?” You turn to Sunghoon, who instantly nods at you. “You can stay here if you want. I’ll be here in a flash.”

“It’s okay, I’ll come with.” Sunghoon turns the engine off and heads out to open your door as you prepare your bag once again, thanking him after you made your way out and habitually intertwining your hands. 

There was no mass ceremony so there were less people inside, immediately finding a spot to sit on and pray silently.

You put your hands together and close your eyes, whispering your prayers silently. After a few minutes, you inhale sharply and exhale deeply, opening your eyes after it. 

“What were you praying so intently for?” Sunghoon asks, brushing the stray hair behind your ear.

“For giving me another day. And with you,” You smile at him, squeezing his hand. “You? Did you pray for anything or you just watched me with those eyes?” You nod at him and pointed out how you felt his sweet eyes on you even with your eyes closed.

“I made a promise that I’ll always find a way to you since you seem so close to Him,” Sunghoon rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, playfully raising his eyebrows at you. “And since you thanked him for giving you another day, I thanked him for letting me have you.” 

“Liar. I didn’t even see you close your eyes for a second,” 

“You don’t need to close your eyes to pray!” 

“Stop lying in front of the church, Sunghoon,” 

D+12.

Sunghoon twists and turns in his seat to catch a glimpse of you, but you were nowhere to be found. Neither was your loud bestfriend. It was so bad that he had been kicked out of his first class that he was taking with you, checking and checking his phone if you had sent any text that you were going to skip class today. There was none. 

“Maybe she just forgot. For now, focus on your next class,” Heeseung pats his friend’s shoulder, growing concerned not only for his friend but also for you. 

”Y/n never forgets to update me, Heeseung.” Sunghoon’s leg was continuously bouncing in nervousness, “Do you think she’s sick? Should I go visit her? Should I go to their house later?” His grip on his phone was deathly, and Heeseung could feel it through his white knuckles.

Heeseung sighs and gets his phone from him, and shakes his head. 

“Let’s just go find Seol-in first and ask her. We’ve got our last class with her so maybe she knows. It’ll be dark by then. So if we still don’t know until tomorrow, then call her dad.” Heeseung talks him out of it and assures him temporarily for the day. 

It’s okay, he thinks. At least he knows you didn’t fight and ended the day before with bad terms. 

The day ended without him having to see Seol-in to ask where you are, the loud friend being absent as well. 

D+13

Sunghoon now can’t stay still and cannot be brainwashed by Heeseung now that you’re not attending school the second day around. You haven’t contacted him at all and he grows scared whether everything was just a fever dream he had, itching to go to your house when he gets a glimpse of your friend scrambling to get her things in a rush and go home. 

“Seol-in, Seol-in!” He shouts through the hallway, but Seol-in feigns ignorance and goes her way quickly. But Sunghoon was too worried that he pushes through the crowd to catch Seol-in by the arm. 

“Seol-in. Do you have any idea what the fuck y/n has been up to? She’s not answering my calls,” Sunghoon turns Seol-in who had a tight smile on, itching to leave right that second. “Her dad, too.” 

“Ah… I don’t know…” Seol-in shakes her head, “Maybe they went on a vacation?” 

“And you think she forgot to tell me?” Sunghoon was now fuming, his grip on Seol-in arm tightening for her to squirm.

“Sunghoon, you’re hurting Seol-in,” Heeseung stops him and yanks his arm away from Seol-in. “Could you please just tell y/n to talk to Sunghoon if you got some kind of contact with her? Please,” 

“I will. Don’t worry. I have to go,” Seol-in nods at them before she scurries off, heading straight to your house to help around. 

You were on a bed rest for the whole day, wrapped in your soft sheets with people seemingly pushing past you and tending to you every second you could count, patting your sweat away, fanning you, and asking you every possible minute if you were okay. 

“Y/n! Are you okay now?!” Seol-in bursts through the door as he pouts at you looking at your state, plopping on your side to give you a hug.

“I can’t breathe enough because of these sheets suffocating me. Get off,” You chuckle, pushing her off. “Could you take my mask off please,” You groan at Seol-in and she shakes her head at you, tightening your oxygen mask on your head. “Oh please, I’m over the attack now. Just get it off,” Seol-in hesitantly takes it off and fans you and you immediately breathe in comfortably, mumbling a small thanks.

After briefing you about your missed activities, she sighs and packs her notebooks back to her bag, preparing to leave. 

“Say it. You’ve been keeping it all night.” You poke her sides, making her glare at you. 

“Sunghoon. You know he’s worried.” 

“Oh is he now?” You steady your breathing, swallowing the lump on your throat. 

“Send him a short text. He almost ripped me to pieces asking where you were a while ago.” You sigh and smile reluctantly, nodding. You bid her goodbye after it and as the door closes after her, it opens once again.

“Dad.” You smile, almost putting your oxygen mask back before he shakes his hand. 

“If you’re okay then you don’t need to put it back on,” He chuckles, then busies himself with your bedside table. “Do you need anything, perhaps?” Your dad slowly takes a seat beside you where Seol-in was, tucking you properly in your sheets once more. When he sees you shake your head, it takes more minutes for him to start another conversation. “Sunghoon… my dear, he still doesn’t know?” 

You sigh for the nth time, knowing where this conversation might end just well. 

“He doesn’t need to know, dad.” You give him a tight smile, fiddling with your fingers. “I don’t see the reason why I should tell him.” 

“Dear… He’s your beloved, isn’t he?” He takes your hand to stop you from wounding it, patting it. “I think it will be best if he knows. So you can cherish more of your time together.” 

“Dad.” You stop him from going further, shaking your head. “I am cherishing it. But I can’t be greedy, can I? I want to… let him carry on without thinking about me.” Your dad nods not in agreement but for the sake of ending the conversation he started, letting you have the last word. 

If you think that’s what’s best for the both of you, then that’s that. 

D+15

“Y/n!” Sunghoon runs to you with such worry, grabbing your shoulders and looking everywhere in your body to see if you were hurt. To him, you absolutely looked pretty, yes, again, ever did you do look, but you were noticeably paler, skinnier, and black bags rested under your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Sunghoon, hi.” You smile cheekily, clinging to his arm. “Of course I am, do I look like I’m not?” Of course you knew you looked different day by day.

“What the hell happened? How come I wasn’t able to contact you or your dad? When I went to your house, your housekeeper said that you weren’t around! Seol-in doesn’t even know where you were as well!” Sunghoon softly shakes you off his arm, taking another closer look at you with furrowed eyebrows. 

You chuckle, letting him do whatever he wants as you straighten his eyebrows out, to un-forrow it. 

“Please don’t be mad. There was just an emergency we had to go to, and we didn’t have the time for our phones. I’m sorry,” You mumble, smiling at him. 

Sunghoon sighs in defeat as finally all the concern left his body, but also the energy he had for today. Everything he needed was right in front of him, and classes weren't in his choices to enjoy today since you were finally back in his arms where you rightfully were.

“That’s okay, you can make it up to me today,” Sunghoon slyly smiles at you and knowing him, an idea was brewing inside his mind right that moment. 

“What the hell are you thinking of doing, Hoon?” You chuckle, poking his dimple that was showing. 

“Let’s skip classes.” 

D+17

“Heeseung, hi.” You knock on the door of their classroom hideout, peeking inside.

“Oh, y/n!” He jumps out of his beanbag, welcoming you in. “What brings you here?” He rubs his palm against his pants and tucks it in his behind pockets. 

“I was wondering where Sunghoon was and if you knew. We shared a class just now but he wasn’t there and it wasn’t like him to skip without telling me…” You embarrassingly shifted around and let your eyes stay on the ground.

“Ah… Uh…” Heeseung scratches his head and is hesitant to tell you anything, but he does anyway. “He went to the hospital.”

“What? Why? Is he hurt?” You suddenly meet his eyes but he immediately calms you down, shaking his head. 

“Don’t worry! He’s not hurt or anything, he was just asked to visit someone there. He’ll be around tomorrow, I guess.” Heeseung smiles at you assuringly before you excuse yourself, sending him a quick text to stay wherever he was. 

D+18

He wasn’t around unlike what Heeseung had said. And you were growing worried. 

You think, was this how Sunghoon worried over you when you were barely to be contacted and no one he knew where you were?

“Stop worrying so much, y/n…” Seol-in stops your leg from bouncing and asks you to calm your breathing. You follow her lead, nodding at her. “Didn’t Heeseung say he was only visiting someone? And didn’t Sunghoon send you a text saying not to worry? So don’t. Y/n…” Seol-in suppresses her own concern about you and tries to talk you out of it. “...you’re getting weaker day by day. Can’t you just… stay at home now? And about Sunghoon…” 

“Seol-in,” You voice out, “I’m okay. I know when I should be staying at home.” You smile at her, and tears leave her eyes at the sudden realization of things. Of how you were slowly, perfectly, surely of living the last of your best lives, letting you do whatever you want because she knows that you will know for sure what to do in any given situation. 

She trusts you over herself. 

D+19

“Sunghoon’s still not around?” Your eyes were busy as you looked around the classroom, not seeing the pretty head you have always admired from afar. 

“I guess…” You mumble, pouting. Your phone buzzes and you read the message sent to you almost too immediately, pout only growing worse at the text you received. “He said he’ll stay in the hospital for today too…” 

You suck it up and force a smile, sending him a text back and putting your phone down. 

Suddenly, your head grows heavy and your visions double and blur, feeling your body fall weak and harshly to the ground with a commotion. Before you black out completely, you hear Seol-in’s desperate cries for you and for help.

—

Your eyes twitch uncomfortably when you open it slightly to a bright room, feeling your breathing cycle once again almost too much. You remove your oxygen mask and realize where you were, at the campus clinic with Seol-in and Heeseung beside you.

“Oh… I must’ve been fatigued last night…” You excuse, smiling at Heeseung. But he doesn’t budge, the same worried face as Seol-in etched on his face. “What? First time seeing a grown woman faint?” You joke around, and Seol-in bursts into tears once again.

“I know already, y/n, you can stop pretending,” Heeseung mumbles softly, gaining you an apologetic face afterward. You glance at Seol-in, sighing. 

At this very moment, like with any other person who suddenly knows your condition, is the very moment and only moment you don’t know what to do.

What, are you supposed to console other people about yourself having a terminal condition?

“Heeseung, please don’t tell Sunghoon.” Heeseung didn’t need any more explanation than that. If you didn’t want him to know, then it’s not his place to tell so. And suddenly for Heeseung, everything clicks.

From how you’re suddenly asking Sunghoon to be your boyfriend, and apart from all that, only for a month, to how you’re drastically changing which he didn’t pay no mind at all unless Sunghoon has taken notice of it, and why you were out of Sunghoon’s, or any other’s radar for almost three days last week. 

So he just nods, because that’s what you needed right now. For everyone to just do what you say, do what you want. As long as Sunghoon is kept in the dark of your condition. 

D+20

“Y/n, can we go somewhere?” Heeseung offers, opening his car for you to ride on. You curiously just followed his lead, staying quiet throughout the ride as you stared outside and watched the sun set. 

“Why? Is someone hurt? Are you hurt?” You question, unbuckling your seatbelt. Heeseung stays quiet but leads you to a ward, opening it to reveal a woman in her early twenties, back of her skull facing towards you so you had no idea who she was. 

Heeseung lets you in as you slowly and unsurely move to the side to see who she was.

“Chung-ah…” You mumble, and your eyes blink rapidly. 

Chung-ah doesn’t look like what she always did, smiling and healthily making her way around the campus with a bright energy. On the hospital bed, tubes were connected throughout her body and ventilations were even needed to help her breathe continuously. 

“Why…” Your chest was breathing heavily and you were trying hard to stabilize it, but tears were already forming in your eyes as you put two and two together. 

“She was the reason why Sunghoon had been skipping his classes, y/n.” Heeseung explains calmly, already feeling apologetic toward you. Because it wasn’t right.

Although you and Sunghoon had agreed to only be together for a month, it wasn’t right for Sunghoon to be hiding the fact that he was visiting and taking care of his ex-girlfriend for days now, and keeping it from you even though she was sick.

Especially when you were fighting your own battles too. And with that, alone. 

“This is why… she broke up with him.” You conclude, and you finally let out a sob, waking the said character up groggily. 

“Y/n…” She mumbles through the mask, trying to force herself to smile. “It’s nice to meet you. It’s a shame we didn’t meet any sooner,” She managed to voice out, having heavy breaths between words to keep up with her own sentences. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you all confused about Sunghoon again. I can see he’s happier now… but my mom…” 

“Chung-ah…” You call for her to stop, followed by your sobs and your shaking of head. To think that they broke up only because Chung-ah didn’t want him to be heart broken by the fact that she’s merely holding on to life, and the only thing, only one that can lengthen her life, was to be kept happy by the people she loves. 

Just like you, she didn’t want Sunghoon to be miserable with her just because she was. She didn’t want Sunghoon to be miserable just for her to selfishly wake up in the morning for another day. She didn’t want Sunghoon to be miserable staying by her side just for her to simply live.

You didn’t want Sunghoon to be miserable just for you to selfishly leave him alone in the end, after all. 

Heeseung follows you out of the room as you clench your chest that bore so much pain for the decision you had to make, uncontrollably sobbing and continuously wiping endless tears from your face. You had to hold on to life to the wall beside you to keep you standing, audibly and physically showing your pain and your torment for everybody— Chung-ah, Sunghoon, and for yourself too. 

“Y/n?” You hear Sunghoon’s voice from five meters away and you meet his eyes at once, his full of skepticism and distress and yours… unimaginable pain. And Sunghoon can see it.

He mumbles something under his breath before stomping his way to Heeseung behind you and striking him right on the face, making a commotion as you held him back. 

“Sunghoon, no, please…”

“Bastard! Why the hell would you bring y/n in here?!” Sunghoon, red from anger continued to dote on Heeseung who annoyingly smirked at him, keeping his composure. 

“What, were you planning on keeping it from y/n? For how long, you sick bastard? That’s your fucking ex inside! What about y/n?!” Heeseung fights back with a tight jaw, fist tightening holding back to landing a punch back on his friend.

“Heeseung…” 

“Fuck you, Heeseung! Chung-ah’s sick! Mind your fucking words you piece of shit!” Sunghoon attempts to give him another strike but you take a hold of his clenched fist, facing Sunghoon with tears still falling in your eyes.

“Sunghoon,”

“And y/n?” Heeseung starts, but you quickly turn to him to desperately ask him to stop there. Heeseung holds back and opts to leave the scene first, intentionally bumping Sunghoon’s shoulder harshly before he’s off.

“Sunghoon, can we talk?” You smile tightly, squeezing his hand assuringly. 

You’ve got nowhere else private to go but the chapel inside the hospital meant for desperate patients and families to turn towards in times of anguish, at this time in the night no one else able to use it to spend time with each other. 

You were just staring in front, sniffing here and there but no other words were undone between you, and beside you, unlike you, Sunghoon was looking down on his hands fiddling with each other. 

“Chung-ah broke up with you because she didn’t want you to feel miserable with her, Hoon.” You start, and as if on cue, tears started forming in your eyes once again. “Not because she didn’t love you anymore.” 

Sunghoon stays quiet and unmoving, and you take it as a signal to continue. 

“Chung-ah… I heard from Heeseung that she’s only to live more if she’s filled and surrounded by people she loves.” This time, you look up to stop your tears from falling, and from being a sobbing mess all over again. 

But it was too late.

“What are you trying to say, y/n?” Sunghoon softly mumbles, finally having the guts to face you. He grabs your hands and kneels before you, but you’re unable to meet his eyes. 

“I’m saying that… you… Park Sunghoon, should stay with her.” You smile between cries and sobs, and Sunghoon’s face drops in shock. And as unbelievable as it was, Sunghoon’s eyes were also sparkling in sadness when he heard what you were saying. 

“I don’t want to,” 

“Sunghoon… have you seen Chung-ah?”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to! The only reason why I’ve been staying here for days is because her mother was begging me, y/n. Please believe me,” 

“I do, will always do, Sunghoon.” Your lips were trembling from all the crying you were doing but you didn’t miss the way a tear fell down from Sunghoon’s eyes the first time, and then followed by many others. You raise your palm to his cheeks to wipe it away, shaking your head. 

“Then why are you doing this, y/n… Come on…” Sunghoon also shakes his head, his grip on your hand tightening but not enough to hurt you. Enough only to make you feel that the situation was hurting him too. 

“Because Chung-ah needs you and your love, too,” 

“But I don’t love her, y/n! I love you! I… love you, y/n. Don’t you love me too?” Sunghoon becomes weak before your eyes as his voice softens and tries his best reaching the sincerity to you and for you to embrace it.

“God,” You let out a genuine snort, throwing your head back and then looking at the said god in front of you, dropping a few more tears before cupping Sunghoon’s cheeks for his eyes to meet yours from his position. “I love you so much you have no idea, Park Sunghoon,” You smile at him, scrunching your nose at him. “...But our love is not enough this time, Sunghoon. Chung-ah needs you. It wouldn’t be hard to love someone the second time around, would it?” 

Sunghoon drops his head on your knees and you hear him sob helplessly, because he knows you were right. He knows that staying with you, is leaving Chung-ah good as dead. 

“Twenty days. You gave me twenty days full of nothing but your love that I promise to keep for my whole life, Sunghoon.” You rub his head sweetly before making him stretch his head out to meet your eyes once more, maybe, for the last time. “Twenty days for you, Sunghoon. You gave me twenty days from your lifetime… but you gave me forever with it,” You smile reassuringly, and then stare at each other’s eyes deeply. Crying for each other, sobs echoed through the chapel until you were finally ready to go. “I love you, Sunghoon. So much,”

You wiped Sunghoon’s tears away once more before leaving a kiss on his forehead, letting it stay there for a few seconds to cherish it, and then gently patting his cheeks before standing up and making your leave, hearing his desperate cries to try and make you stay.

But you don’t look back. 

God, you can’t look back because if you did, even to catch a glimpse of him for a second— to see him still kneeling in the same place, face damp and flushed from all of the crying he did, wailing as his hands can’t find the guts to hold your warm hands back to stay with him— you knew you were going to run back in his arms and tell him that you loved him, and that you needed him too. 

Because if you looked back and ran back to him, it was to end Chung-ah's life then and there.

D-64.

Sunghoon twists and turns in his seat, unable to stay still which inevitably wakes Chung-Ah up. She watches him for a few minutes until until he took notice, smiling apologetically 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Sunghoon asks, propping his elbows on his knees to be closer to Chung-ah. 

She takes a closer good look at Sunghoon— puffy red eyes, dark bags underneath, bruised lips from yesterday when he met up with Heeseung to ask about you and your whereabouts, only to be faced with no answer but a punch in the face, pale skin, paler than he had always been. He had also not been eating a lot, talking a lot— but he had obviously been trying his best to look and feel okay since he had someone beside him having it a lot worse than he could imagine.

“Sunghoon…” She smiles, asking for his hand to hold. For Sunghoon, it had felt like he was touched by a cold feather, 

“Sorry, I can’t sleep on the couch and I certainly cannot sleep here. I wanted to get some fresh air but I couldn’t leave you alone.” He explains, rubbing his thumb on her palm. Chung-ah lifelessly shakes her head, patting Sunghoon’s hand. “Do you need something? Water?” 

“No, Sunghoon. Thank you,” She mumbles out, chuckling. It takes Chung-ah a few minutes to gather her strength for talking, inhaling in and out as Sunghoon patiently waits. “You know… when y/n came here, I didn’t even get to say anything.” 

Sunghoon was taken aback, surprised that Chung-ah had opened this topic up and knowing that she heard everything outside her door that day. 

“...I didn’t tell her anything about us. Nor Heeseung— nor anyone in the school why I broke up with you. So I was surprised when… she knew.” Chung-ah closes her eyes to reminisce, remembering your cries and your eyes that had realized what was coming for her. It breaks her as well too, because she understood well just how you were feeling. “She instantly knew why I had to break it off with you, why I had to choose you and not me, for us.” 

“Chung-ah…” Sunghoon tried to stop her by shushing her, wanting for her to save up the energy for anything else, not by explaining to him. He had already understood you, and he had already accepted it. 

“I don’t know if it’s a girl to girl thing, but still I wanted to say this since I didn’t get to say it to her.” Chung-ah continues anyway, wanting to let Sunghoon hear what she wants to say.

“Chung-ah, you can stop. Save your energy. Y/n… she made me understand everything, so you don’t need to.” 

“No, Sunghoon. If you did, you’re not supposed to be here, then.” She smiles softly, and Sunghoon could feel how sincere she was so he just nodded at her to continue. “Sunghoon, did you know you burned brighter when you started hanging out with her? Did you know that it was the first time from the ten months we’ve been together, plus a month after we broke up, that I’ve seen you smile so genuinely and look at someone with so much love. I know you loved me, but you just loved her better.” Chung-ah’s smile never leaves her lips, hand holding Sunghoon’s as tight as she can. “Sunghoon, you… don’t need to stay.”

“Chung-ah, we’ve talked about this.” 

“No. You and mom talked about this.” She shakes her head, “Sunghoon, I’ve lived enough,” She sighs, scooting on her bed. “I’ll only be here for a few weeks now, I can’t hold on any longer. I need to… rest,” She looks at Sunghoon once again, grateful and apologetic all in her eyes.

“Then let me just stay with you until you can hold out, Chung-ah. For old time’s sake.” 

D-30.

“They said it was a miracle Chung-ah lasted longer than she was counted up by the doctors, Sunghoon.” Chung-ah’s mom, just like when she begged Sunghoon to stay, was weeping as she held Sunghoon by the hand. “Thank you for staying with her, Sunghoon.” 

“It’s nothing, auntie. Let’s wrap up the documents for the funeral and then let’s bid our last goodbyes to Chung-ah, alright?” Sunghoon had managed to pick himself up everytime he should, in front of Chung-ah and her family. 

Of course, every now and then he tries to look for you, getting gossip that you went radio silent after that day and had not been going to school after that, it had affected him quite a lot to not hear anything about you. 

“I have no idea as well, Sunghoon.” Heeseung sighs as he gets another call from his friend who he had recently reconciled with, mumbling on the phone. “I’m trying to look for her too. So don’t worry, I’ll give you a text as soon as I get an update,” 

“Sunghoon… Sorry, y/n… I think it’s best for you not to look for her,” This time around, Seol-in shakes her head in front of him, after paying a visit at Chung-ah’s funeral. “And you know I can’t say anything if that’s what y/n wants. So I’ll have to keep my mouth shut about it. It’s not my right to say anything,” 

D-7.

“Sunghoon.” Chung-ah’s mother snaps in front of his face to get his attention, as he jumps and suddenly looks around. He was the only one left along with his mother in front of Chung-ah’s burial site, the place filled with white flowers and food Chung-ah loved. “I didn’t know you were here. You should have told me,” She smiles at Sunghoon and places her own bouquet of white flowers beside Sunghoon’s, taking a minute to say her own prayers. “You’ve been here for how long? Can I bother you for some tea?” 

Sunghoon nods and follows her lead after they had paid a visit to Chung-ah, smiling as he rubbed Chung-ah’s frame before he left. 

“Chung-ah… she left a letter before she passed, darling.” Her mother sets her cup of tea in front of her as she opens up her bag to reveal the letter. “I wasn’t ready to open it when she passed, so I only got to open it last night and went here today to talk to her about it. It was a good thing you were there,” She pushes the letter over the table closer to Sunghoon, and explains as Sunghoon reads it.

Tears form in Sunghoon’s eyes as he reads through the letter, the first time he ever was vulnerable in front of Chung-ah’s mother. 

“Chung-ah… she was so sorry that you had to repeat senior year all over again that she asked me to take care of you,” She gets another envelope, a thicker one, and slides it over the table again. “Here’s a little help, Sunghoon.” 

“I don’t need it, auntie.” Sunghoon smiles as he glances at the content, but Chung-ah’s mother insists.

“As Chung-ah says, learn to accept the help you’re receiving.” She smiles, and Sunghoon chuckles and continues to read. “She also says… to help you find the love you had before you knew of her illness,” Sunghoon’s hold on the paper tightens, as he just got to read that part of the paper. He continues, as she continues. “I’m sorry Sunghoon, I didn’t know… but it was for my daughter, so I’m sorry that I don’t regret it at all,” She is so apologetic of her actions that she even bears tears for it, wiping it instantly. “I am a mother, that’s why.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t utter anything but continues to read, his heart thumping a lot heavier than it was.

“But I will help you find her again, Sunghoon. Now, not for me, but for you, Chung-ah, and the girl you loved.” By this time, Sunghoon had placed the letter down after reading every word of it, looking at the woman in front of him with dead eyes. He understood every side, but still, he had missed the girl he loved and is now missing. 

“I promise you I will find her, Sunghoon. I will.” She assures, taking his hands over the table. “Thank you for loving my daughter, Sunghoon. I will always carry it in my heart.”

D-5.

Sunghoon holds his phone tight as he hesitates to contact someone, as clearly sent by Chung-ah’s mother’s through text.

…997… This is y/n’s father’s number. He had it changed over two months ago, and y/n’s number was held by a new owner. I’m sorry, darling. This is all I was given. I’m sure you will be able to contact her father.

His fingers hover over the call button, head pounding and heart beating uncontrollably. 

Does he still get the right to talk to you after he left you? After he had left you for his dying ex? 

Is he still worth something to you? 

D-2.

“Sunghoon, just make the damn call,” Heeseung grows worried at his friend who makes himself hyper focused on his finals for tomorrow, not batting him an eye as he wrote through his notes. “You’ll regret it if you don’t do it sooner, Hoon.” 

“I’ve been regretting not doing everything I can with her, Heeseung. I think I will just have to live with that,” 

Heeseung groans in frustration as he gets Sunghoon’s notes from him to get his attention. 

“Fine.” Heeseung clenches his jaw. “I know where y/n is.” Sunghoon suddenly stands up and furrows his brows, scoffing at his friend. “Before you say anything, y/n didn’t want me to say anything to you, just like Seol-in.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Heeseung?” Sunghoon pushes Heeseung harshly and brushes his hair back in frustration, all the anger building up in him. “Where is she?” 

“Sunghoon.” 

“Where is she?!” 

“I’ll take you to her once you successfully finish your last exam tomorrow, Hoon. And after you get permission from his dad.” Heeseung places his notes back down on his table and opens his phone on the contact his fingers have been hovering over for a day already. “Call me once you do. Then I’ll take you to her in an instant.” 

Heeseung turns around to make his leave, but Sunghoon stops him with his sob.

“Is y/n… okay?” He sobs out, chest heavy with all the questions he bore in mind since the day he last saw you.

“Y/n…” Heeseung sighs, “...just take your exam and text her father fast, Sunghoon.” And with that, Heeseung closes the door behind him to avoid more of his friend’s questions and to avoid making Sunghoon see that he was also on the verge of crying, too. 

D-1.

“He said… I can visit tomorrow,” Sunghoon shows your father’s text to Heeseung, as Heeseung sighs. He nods at Sunghoon and pats his shoulder, giving him a smile. 

“Pack your things, then. We’ll drive in a few hours. It’s a long one,” Heeseung tears up at the thought, proud of his friend but also ready for everything happening the next day. He calls up Seol-in to update her and she asks him to brief Sunghoon up on the way there.

But seeing Sunghoon happy and giddy and jumpy… broke him. He runs out of Sunghoon’s apartment to calm himself down, leaving Sunghoon confused but he packs with a smile anyway. He sees himself on the rooftop, cursing the gods for what fate has brought you two. He thinks, since he was on the rooftop and was shouting, he’ll be able to relay his message clearer and louder. 

Because how come you’ve only lasted this long until Sunghoon has come back to you? 

The friend he made along with Sunghoon— how come you were leaving them? 

He breaks down on the rooftop, his cries unheard— closer to the heavens than to any other person on the ground. Once he had calmed down, he made his way back to Sunghoon’s flat, seeing he had already packed up… a lot. 

“Where have you been?” Sunghoon smiles at him giddily, presenting his packed things. “I didn’t know what to pack since you didn’t say anything else, so I packed nearly everything.” 

Heeseung makes his way around Sunghoon’s things when he realizes he packed many useless things, such as the jacket he was meant to give you, necklaces he meant to give you, everything he meant to give you. Whether it was packed food, clothes– everything. 

“Sunghoon…” He mumbles, tears starting to well up again. “...you don’t need to bring these.” 

“Why? I have to give all those to y/n!” He pouts at Heeseung and shoos him away, double checking his things. 

“You don’t need to, Sunghoon. Just bring some clothes, and yourself.” But Sunghoon doesn’t listen, so it ticks Heeseung off. “I said you don’t need to, Sunghoon!” 

Sunghoon stops as he looks at Heeseung weirdly, sighing.

“What the hell? Why are you being aggressive and why the hell are you crying?” Sunghoon questions as he steps closer to his friend, scrunching his forehead and sensing that there’s something definitely wrong going on. “What is it?”

“Get your packed clothes, and let’s go.” Heeseung wipes his tears away and gets his keys, leaving Sunghoon once again to walk first to his car. 

“Can you just tell me what the hell’s going on?” Sunghoon feels something unpleasant down in his chest since Heeseung was continuously crying and not uttering a word, an hour in through their drive and only with a bag of clothes behind them. “That I didn’t even need to bring what I got for y/n? And would you please stop crying? It’s dangerous while you’re driving,” 

“Sunghoon, whatever happens, I’ll be with you, okay? Seol-in too,” He starts, his voice sad as he glances at Sunghoon. “Y/n… is weak.” 

“The fuck do you mean?” Sunghoon perks in his seat, turning to Heeseung. 

“She’s been very sick, Sunghoon. Since she was a kid. And now… she’s barely holding on to life and her father’s been saying that she only lives out waiting for you every second of every day.” Sunghoon’s life stops right then and there, feeling his heart not beat faster but slower, as if you had just taken life years from him. What do you mean you’re sick? What do you mean you’re also sick? What do you mean you still let him stay with Chung-ah even though you were counting days as well? What do you mean? 

“W-what the hell, Heeseung… Not a good fucking joke,” He utters out, staring outside the window. 

“She was someone who’s prohibited to do anything exciting, and feel anything exciting, or too saddening, or anything extreme. She was not supposed to…” Heeseung explains, putting his car in the emergency parking because he was not able to tell this while driving because of his own tears. “But that day… she had a major attack, something they haven’t seen before that they thought they were going to lose y/n much earlier than they expected.” 

Sunghoon had tears uncontrollably leaving his eyes as he was reminded of everything. He had signs, unbelievably many times, but he was dumb enough to ignore it. 

Like how you were not supposed to be surprised at any cost. Like how you didn’t drink coffee even though you always lick your lips when you see it. Like how you’re only eating fruits and vegetables. Like how you said you literally cannot breathe when he took you out. Like when you didn’t go to school for days straight and when you did you looked almost nothing like you did when you first talked. Like how after that day you stumbled ‘on your own feet’ while walking straight. 

How can he not know?

“Y/n always said it’s not your fault, Sunghoon. So don’t blame yourself for it,” He didn’t even realize Heeseung had continued driving, calmed himself. 

He cannot bring himself to be angry at anyone but himself, so his voice was low.

“How can it not be me, Heeseung? When I was the one closest to her for that one month? When she showed me she was also holding on to life but I didn’t even bother asking? How can I not blame myself for it, Heeseung?” He cries out, massaging his forehead. 

“You’ll know later, Sunghoon.” Heeseung smiles at him, “You’ll know.” 

Sunghoon thought he had no tears left to cry after Chung-ah. Because after all, he promised to come back to you. To always come back to you. And he was going to. He had just cried a lot because of course, Chung-ah, but also the time he had lost with you. 

You also had golden time, time he should not have taken for granted, but how come he’s only getting to cherish everything now? 

D-0

“We’re here…” Heeseung parks his car outside of a humble house, and Sunghoon had never felt so nervous and happy and devastated at the same time. “We can go once you’re ready.” Heeseung waits outside his car as he also prepares himself, waiting for Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon, meanwhile, was breathing heavily to calm himself. He was strong. He should show you he is. That way, you can leave with no worries. And that he should not be wasting any second now of a golden chance. 

Sunghoon opens the car door and smiles at Heeseung, nodding at him. They both sigh in agreement and finally make their way inside, as they’re welcomed by Seol-in.

“She’s upstairs.” Seol-in already had red eyes and nose, still weeping as she hugged herself. She was finally going to see what her best friend has been waiting hopefully for, nodding at Sunghoon. Sunghoon makes his way upstairs slowly, Heeseung and Seol-in following closely behind. Heeseung smiles at Seol-in sweetly as he takes her by his side, rubbing her arms to calm her down.

Sunghoon is welcomed and greeted by her father outside her door, glasses fogged up from his tears that he muffles. When he meets eyes with Sunghoon, he immediately pulls him into a fatherly hug and pats him.

“Thank you, son."

Sunghoon nods at him and can’t help his eyes well up with tears, breathing heavily yet again as he takes ahold of the knob. 

He takes a step inside and finally, finally sees you, your back facing him as you sit on a wheelchair, looking out the balcony. He had realized the view was the mountain you had gone together before, only further and clearing of the clouds was happening just after the sunset. 

Sunghoon muffles his cries with the back of his palm before he makes his way to you, at first, unable to take even another step. He looks around, just not at you, because god it still hasn’t sunk in him.

“Go, son. She’s been waiting for you.” Your father encourages him, with Heeseung and Seol-in behind him. He nods, sighing out softly and deeply once again before he takes a step, and another, and another…

“My love,” Sunghoon mumbles out, softly placing his palm on your shoulder. He was so scared of holding you, feeling you’re so fragile to even touch. But when your face lights up and your lips turn to an even bigger smile, Sunghoon drops on his knees to hold both of your hands and kiss them. It was the same position you had back then, but now, you were both smiling.

“You’re here,” You mumble out, and he can see the way your chest is heaving up and down to help you substitute your talking. “I knew you were coming back.” You cup his cheeks and rub it with your thumb, scrunching your nose. “I waited for you.”

“I know you did.” He takes ahold of your hand that held his cheeks, burrowing himself to it because this was the warmth he had missed. 

“Can you transfer me to the seat? I want to sit beside you,” 

“Why? Am I covering your view? I told you, I should be in it,” He strikes the same pose he did when you had a date, earning a laugh from you as he chuckles. 

“And I told you I memorized each of your features.” You boop his nose and he finally transfers you out of your wheelchair to the sofa beside you, sitting as well. You comfortably lean your head on his shoulder, sighing in contentment. 

He takes a minute before he sighs as well, holding your hand.

“I missed you,” You say, smiling.

“I missed you too, y/n… I…” His voice shakes, and once again, he looks faraway to stop his tears. He should look strong. He should appear strong. “...I’m sorry,” 

“Shh,” You pat his hand, “Let’s not make this time to be apologetic to each other, dear. We know and we understand,” You rub his hand reassuringly, but Sunghoon continues to be a disappointment to himself by continuously crying. So you had no choice but to face him with much strength, grabbing his face to face you. 

“I love you, y/n.” He managed to breathe out, his lips quivering. “I love you so much,” 

“I do, too, Sunghoon.” You smile at him. “So much. I love you,” 

“And I’m still deeply sorry,” Sunghoon shakes his head softly between your hands, but you hold your smile.

“No, Sunghoon. You don’t need to be because it was my choice.” You explain, “Thank you, Sunghoon. Because I got to hold and had the love you dearly had for me, I was able to last further than what I was promised,” You sigh out, going back to your position as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Thank you for giving me that. For giving me life… And for keeping your promise.” 

Sunghoon feels contented and ecstatic as he just let it all out, the anxiety, the regrets, everything. What was important was now he was here beside you, and he was always going to be. He lets your warmth embrace his, for the last time. He was able to say everything he had wanted to say, and he feels contented. 

“And now that you’re back as you promised… I’m really happy… I think I can rest peacefully now.” Sunghoon nods and sighs in preparedness. He was prepared. He was okay with it. He’ll be okay. 

“You did so well holding out, y/n.” He pats your hand, then rubs your cheeks as he feels your eyes drape down. “You did so so well. You can rest now,” 

“I’m sleepy, Sunghoon.” Sunghoon’s eyes drift towards the view as he hums your favorite song to lull you to sleep. 

And when he feels your hand slowly break away from his, followed by the warmth he loved slowly fading away from the cold… he stops. He softly places a kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you. Goodnight, dear.” 

To, Park Sunghoon

Ever since we were freshies, I had always had my eye on you. If you weren’t so famous, I would’ve straight up asked you out already. That is one of the biggest regrets of my life. For not asking you out sooner. 

Because what if I did? Would you have agreed?

When I first introduced the offer to you, I didn’t even think about it twice. When I heard I’ve got months to live, I wanted you to be part of it. Because you were such a big part of my college! And my college was a big part of my life! Should I just give up it like that?

When you declined, of course I was heartbroken. And when you told me that it had wrong impressions of intentions, it broke my heart more. I should’ve thought about what you have felt if I put you in that situation, so I’m sorry. 

Sunghoon, you were such an eye candy. How come anyone -not- like you? And when we’ve finally started hanging out, you were much more than being an eye candy. You’re a bright person who have so much love to give and receive, a person who tries his best at everything, a person who, when fails, does not easily back down. A person who’s really easy to love. 

Sunghoon, I love you.

Please, please, please do not blame yourself for anything. It was my choice to keep it from you, my choice to let you stay with Chung-ah. 

The twenty days was much more than what you could’ve possibly given me. 

I love you, my dear. 

Will always do. Always will. 

Take care of yourself for me?

Love, 

y/n.

[casualhedonists]

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

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

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

chapter: 6/6

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: .......13.5k

a/n: WHEW what a wait. thank you, as always, for your patience this past month or so! as i’ve mentioned i’ve been busy as hell, but it is with many internal screams that i can say! welcome to the final chapter of this series!! what a ride we've all had these last few months! buckle up for like. essay length extensive smut and also plot. in varying order. as always, feedback makes my world spin round at rocket speed, and just. thank you guys for all the love ever since i posted chapter one last november (november me with a brand new sideblog had no clue this would become a Thing i finished let alone a Thing people liked!! that's all on you lovely humans. ily)

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

Heaven was his head between your thighs.

His hands on you, everywhere. Hot mouth pressed to your skin, your neck, your thighs, your cunt. He was slow. Thorough. Pulling cries out of your mouth that got louder and louder until your back arched on the bed and you lay slumped and panting, twisted in his sheets. Taken apart and stitched right back together.

It hadn’t started like this. Not even close.

You woke to a soft light on your face, the curtains parted slightly. Your throat felt sore, and you were tired. Body heavy, slumped across a bed. His. It came back to you in fragments. The party. The photograph. His hand in your hair. His eyes after, apologetic and pleading. Falling asleep right here, next to him, but there was nobody beside you anymore. Your eyes adjusted to the room; you’d never seen it at this time of day, with sunbeams lighting up the walls. You could hear a soft tapping sound, like rain on the windowsill, but it was a bright and sunny spring day out.

Typing. That’s what it was.

Steady, satisfying clicks as the typewriter punched ink onto paper. You turned your head towards the desk across the room.

Coriolanus was sat there, focused, a breakfast tray pushed to one side. He didn’t notice you for a while, and you rolled over to take him in, a slight squint in his eye as he concentrated. You pulled your tired body up and leaned against the pillows, and he turned.

“Morning.” He said in surprise.

“Hi.”

This was strange. Like a warped sense of a morning after.

“Coffee?” He offered. “It’s still hot, I think.”

“Please.”

As he stood to pour from the French press, you took a look around you, eyes landing on the nightstand. A glass of water stood tall next to the silver chain he’d given you last night.

So innocent. If someone took a peek through a crack in the wall, they’d think you were a perfectly normal couple. Domestic bliss.

Not so much, you thought, as he walked over and handed you a cup.

He didn’t linger, but sat down at the foot of the bed, and that only made things stranger. He’d never been one to shy away from physical proximity, but here you both were, sipping just-hot coffee as he eyed you carefully. Like you were an animal in an enclosure, and he hadn’t quite figured out which approach to take with you yet.

“Are you working on something?” You nodded toward the cluttered desk.

“Just the usual. Work.”

“Oh? Didn’t know you worked in here.”

“I don’t, usually. Never have, in fact.” He sounded sheepish. This was entirely new. “But I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Oh.

You said just that.

“Oh. Um, thank you.”

“I can go if you’d like. Leave you to rest.”

“No, that’s okay. Stay.”

His eyes softened a little, shoulders sinking down.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

You considered. You hadn’t really thought much about it.

“Tired, I think. This is helping. Thank you.” You sipped at the cup of coffee, careful not to spill it on his sheets. An oddly comfortable silence hung in the air.

“I called Cordelia. She’s coming over this afternoon, we can figure it all out. Print a story you’re happy with.”

“Wait, what? We don’t have an appointment for three more weeks.”

He glanced awkwardly at the floor, and cleared his throat.

“I thought you’d want to make it as quick as possible. It will be, and it won’t shine badly on you. I’ll get Lucille to pack your things, and if you don’t want to go back to your parents, I’d be happy to put you up somewhere in the city for as long as you’d like. It’s the least I could do after everything that I-”

“Coriolanus, stop.” You shook your head, bewildered.

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

He paused.

“Of course.”

“How the hell are you meant to know what I want if you’ve never asked me?”

He frowned, eyes darting from the floor, to you, to the floor again.

“I… Well, I assumed that-”

“Don’t assume.” You interrupted. “God, when will you stop assuming you know what’s best for me? It’d be nice to feel like I have a say in this. Don’t you see that if we do this, we’ll just end up right back where we started? I don’t want that, do you?”

“Doll, I think this would be for the best.”

“Why, am I getting too difficult for you now? You got someone new lined up ready to take my place? Someone less complicated? More complacent?” You snapped.

“Of course not, it’s not that.”

“Then why? Why do you want me gone? Because it’s pretty damn clear that you do from where I’m sat.”

He sighed, turning to face you, but looking at your lap. You gripped the cup with a vice, like you were trying to snap off the handle. You placed it on the nightstand.

“I’ve just been wondering if this has become about something… else, to you. and I wanted to say that if that’s the case, this can’t continue. Because… well, I’ve grown fond of you, and it isn’t fair to keep you hoping.”

Your confusion softened your sharp edges.

“Hoping for what?”

For whatever reason, he didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.

“Hoping that… I can give you something I don’t think I’m capable of. Or at least, not anymore. It’s not fair on you. I can’t give you what you need.”

“And what exactly is it that I need?”

He shifted, looking awkwardly to the floor. At first, your frown only deepened, then it hit you. A knowing smile crept onto your face.

“Oh my god… you think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His frown only widened your grin. you were pretty sure you must’ve looked insane. Despite yourself, you let out a laugh, and his frown only deepened.

“When you… you’ve been upset lately. The other week at the luncheon, and then last night, I thought it was-”

“That I was, what, in love with you?”

A cocky, shit eating grin now took over your face.

He started a sentence, but stopped himself. You could see it on his face; he was completely thrown.

“So you’re not.” He checked.

“Oh, don’t look so disappointed, Snow. ‘Course not. That’s never what this was about, I mean, we have rules for a reason. Sure, we’ve been breaking them like it’s our day job, but not the golden one. Never the most important.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked a little sheepish.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” you repeated, “I’m not in love with you.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. His shoulders sank down, like he was relieved.

“I see. That’s good, that’s… for the best.”

“So will you cancel Cordelia?”

“Okay. If that’s what you want., it’s done.”

You nodded.

“See, this is better. It’s a lot easier when you ask me things. And I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t exactly been the most talkative either.”

“It’s not exactly our strong suit.” He agreed.

“Yeah. You know, while we’re on the topic, there’s something else you can do for me.”

“Anything.”

“You can run me a bath. A hot one. With bubbles.” You added.

It was slight, but you saw it. He perked up.

“Okay, doll.”

The bath was hot, and it smelt like the softer parts of him, like fresh linen and the spice of his cologne. Again, he didn’t linger, just ran the bath, saw you into the room and let you be. It was frustrating – while it was nice to soak in the hot water and feel your muscles relax, you wished he would just talk to you, instead of acting like you were something to avoid, something to walk on eggshells around. This change in his demeanour wasn’t a completely unwelcome one – you didn’t mind feeling as though you had the upper hand, and held all the cards for once – but you didn’t like being treated like you were broken, either.

You sank your head underneath the bubbles and stayed down there for a few seconds, the rush of water clouding your eardrums. It was a peaceful kind of noise, and when you came back up for air, you found yourself breathing a little easier.

You pondered. Processed, considering the steps to take next, rolling your neck out and stretching your feet to the edge of the tub. Anytime you thought you’d reached any sort of plateau with Coriolanus, something new would pop up out of seemingly nowhere. You hadn’t minded the danger at first, it drew you in and kept you hungry for more, but you’d grown tired, weary from the whiplash knotting your neck.

When the water cooled, you looked around, but couldn’t see a towel. You cleared your throat.

“Snow?” You called out.

Soft footsteps. Then, his voice from behind the door.

“Everything okay?”

“I just need a towel. I can’t see one near me.”

“They’re in the linen closet in the corner.”

You eyed the floor between the tub and the closet.

“I’d have to get out and drip bathwater all across the floor. Can you just come in here and hand me one?”

Silence.

“Please?” You added.

More silence. Then he quietly cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Okay, fine. I’m coming in, I won’t look.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

The door cracked open and he made a short beeline to the closet, unfolding a towel and holding it out. When he walked to the side of the tub, he looked off to the side like the colour of the walls was suddenly the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

You pulled yourself out of the water, shivering as the cold air hit you. Then you backed into the towel and took it from him, wrapping it around yourself, sinking into the soft cotton. He stood behind you, paused, seemingly suspended in place and unable to move. You heard him draw in a breath, inches from the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. His breath caught on the droplets of water gathered on your skin, and it warmed you and gave you a chill at the same time.

“I know you are.”

Then in a flash, you spun around, lips on his, hungry. He kissed you back like he had something to prove, and hell, maybe he did. His hands tangled in your wet hair and yours made for his shirt. The towel slipped to the floor and fell in a pile at your feet. One button came open, you broke the second, which flew into the air and landed on the floor with a tap. He pulled you in closer, hands all over you, and you worked frantically at the third, not caring if it broke, not caring about anything.

“Doll.”

You looked up at him, at his blown-out eyes.

“Want you to fuck me.” You breathed.

“I can’t.”

You jolted to a stop, catching your breath. He took a step back.

“What?”

He pulled in slow breaths, like he was trying to cool himself off. His eyes pressed shut.

“Not like this. Not until I know you trust me again. I don’t… I can’t hurt you again. I won’t do that. I need you to forgive me first. Completely.”

You exhaled slowly, then cleared your throat, lowering to the ground to pick the damp towel off the tiles. When you came back up, half-covered, he was staring at a spot on the wall again, breath laboured.

You tied the towel around you, and looked right at him as he looked away, eyes averted.

“You sure about that, Snow?” you drawled. “You sure as hell don’t look it.”

He swallowed thickly.

“I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll just be in the bedroom.”

You brought your hand to your lips, brushing over where he’d just kissed them once he’d turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. You eyed your pile of clothes with disdain.

He was back at his desk when you walked out, wrapped in a shirt he’d offered you, hair towel in hand. He didn’t look as focused on his work this time.

“I cancelled Cordelia. So don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you.” You made for the bed, and climbed back onto it. “Rather just talk to you anyway.”

His jaw tensed. It seemed he was still doing everything in his power not to look at you.

“You know, there’s this thing called eye contact. Remember that thing Cordelia waffles on about? It’s important when you’re having a conversation with somebody. I’m a big fan, myself.”

His eyes shot daggers at you. But at least he was looking.

“And what did you want to talk about, exactly?”

You shrugged, and he glanced back at the desk, and pretended to study one of the papers there.

“I don’t know. All of this, I guess.”

Much to your annoyance, he didn’t answer. Your eyes swept the room again, and you brought the towel to your hair. The sun was high enough now to light up the silver chain on the nightstand, and you took it in your palm, turning it over.

“Did you mean it when you said I could have this?” You wondered aloud.

He looked at you again.

“Wasn’t sure if you remembered that.”

“Well, I do.”

“Then I meant it.” His words shouldn’t have made you smile, but they did.

“Will you put this on me?” You asked.

“Uh. Sure.”

The chair creaked as he pushed it back from underneath him, and he walked over to you cautiously, perching on the bed, taking the dog tag, then ever so gently brushing your hair to one side.

“Can I just ask-”

“Anything.” He said quickly.

The cool metal slid onto your chest as he secured the chain, falling low.

“When you were out there, did you…” you swallowed.

Say it.

“…hurt people?” You praised your voice for not shaking. The silence in the room was deafening. But he finally answered.

“I did what was necessary.”

“It must’ve been awful.”

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It was.”

“Do you think about it much?”

“More than I care to admit. But it was a long time ago.”

You turned to face him.

“Doesn’t make it less real. I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. What matters is that I’m here now.”

You smiled.

“You didn’t get too bad of a deal of it either, President Snow.”

He put your hair back into place, fingertips trailing your shoulder.

“I certainly didn’t.”

You thumbed the cold steel, an odd feeling of satisfaction washing over you.

“Was it worth it?” Your voice sounded quiet, even to you. You were fully aware of the weight of the question, heavier still from the complete understanding that you barely knew what you were asking.

“Yes.”

It should’ve scared you, the surety in his voice. But it didn’t.

Warm breath caressed your shoulder blade, and it really shouldn’t comfort you, but it did. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you. For putting it on. I always get these things tangled.”

“My pleasure. I meant what I said though, sweetheart. No wearing it where anyone’ll see, okay? I need you to promise me.”

You turned your head, shifted so you faced him. You suddenly realised just how close your faces were, and your voice dropped low.

“I promise. It’s nothing new. We’re no strangers to secrets, you and I.”

Your noses were almost touching, and he was looking down at your lips. You drew in a breath, and inched in impossibly closer. You felt his breath on your lips, hot and shallow. Your nose bumped his.

And then his lips were on yours again. But just as quickly, he pulled away.

“Don’t.” You pleaded.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t. Not until I’ve fixed this. Please, just… tell me what you need me to do. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You sighed, pulling away.

“This is what I want, Snow. But…”

“Yeah?”

“I just… never knew it would get so complicated. I think for now, maybe I need a little time.”

“Okay. We can do that.”

“I might go home over this weekend. Spend some time with my parents. No tricks, okay? No messengers, no word from you, the entire time. I’ll come back here on Monday morning, and I’ll tell you what I’ve decided then.”

He nodded.

“That’s fine.” He cleared his throat again. “So you’ll leave tomorrow morning?”

“If that’s okay.”

He seemed as satisfied as one would expect with that solution.

“Yes. Of course, anything you want.”

“Thank you, Coriolanus.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked a little disappointed by the formality.

“And Snow?”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Before I go, will you lie next to me for a little while?"

It was oddly intimate, the way the day stretched on. He lay next to you for a while, and you sank into the sheets and eventually dozed off. When you woke, he was still there, quietly tapping at the typewriter and poring over paperwork. You spent the rest of the day in his room, in bed mostly, with food being brought up to you which you shared in mutual silence or casual conversation. Lucille packed your bags, and you spent the night in his bed, a little distance between you. But when you woke up, you had to slowly pull away your woven limbs.

Leaving was a quiet affair. Snow gave you a chaste kiss goodbye, and Henry snuck you and your bags through the back exit and kept to backroads, so nobody would know who you were or where you were going. Your parents didn’t know why you were visiting either; they didn’t need to. As far as anyone was concerned, you were taking a short weekend trip to check in with your family.

The two days passed quickly. You spent the time reflecting, debating what your next move would be, and listening to your parents argue. You found yourself glancing at the clock by Saturday afternoon, and by Sunday night you were practically crawling out your skin ready to leave. You considered what he’d offered you; an apartment on your own, somewhere in the city. But the thing is, you’d grown used to his moods, to just having him around, if only to dig your fingers into and pry open, searching for secrets. Life would feel awfully dull without it. You’d never met someone who was a match for you, who challenged you. You wondered if he felt the same.

Monday morning rolled around and you let out a heavy sigh of relief as you climbed into the car. Henry glanced back at you, but didn’t comment.

The second the manor came into sight, your head clouded with doubt. Would he want you to stick around? You’d spent the last couple of days toying with all outcomes like some omniscient god, but until now you hadn’t considered the fact that Snow might’ve done some thinking through of his own.

But as you pulled up at the side door, there he was. Standing perfectly poised, waiting for you, and all your worries washed away as he looked at you. Henry opened the door, and Coriolanus offered his hand as you stepped out the car. He looked at you with the same intensity as he had that very first night in his room, when you’d finally dropped the charade, and you returned the stare. Even just feeling his hand on yours set your skin on fire.

When you finally got inside and it was just the two of you, he stopped you.

He looked regal before, proud and superior. Now, you could tell it was a façade, laced with a nervous discomfort.

“Well?” He prompted.

You looked at him. Took in the way his eyes couldn’t stay in one place for too long, the tightness in his jaw that only appeared when he was under pressure, and the slight urgency seeping through his otherwise controlled question, and realised then that you hadn’t been the only one going a little insane these past few days.

And now, you had the upper hand again.

“Upstairs,” you answered. “Your room.”

When the door closed behind you and he paced towards the desk, you almost smiled at the parallel. It felt like an age ago that you’d strutted in here, dressed in his suit jacket with something to prove. You knew the cards you were about to play now like you had then, but your thoughts still raced.

Snow cleared his throat.

“So? Have you made up your mind?”

You waited for him to turn and face you.

“I have.”

“And?” So quick to reply. You’d never heard him so on edge.

You wet your lips, taking a step towards him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying stretching this out a little, watching him squirm.

“I’ve decided that… I’m staying.” You said finally.

He let out an audible breath, almost like he didn’t care about you hearing his reaction anymore. Like he’d been strung out the entire weekend, just like you. Like he’d imagined this conversation in a million different ways. He stepped towards you. This was an old dance; one you knew well. You closed the gap between you, and his hand grazed your jaw.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He said. You held his gaze, he brushed your lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Can I…” His voice dropped.

“Not just yet.”

You relished the little frown that knitted his brows.

“I know you, Snow.” You continued. “You’re good at what you do. You’re better at this than anyone out there. You’re dedicated, and I think that… something tells me you’re going to be President for an awfully long time. I want to be by your side when that happens. I’m not going away when this arrangement suits me too. But I have terms.”

He watched you as if he was mesmerised, and you wondered if he even noticed the way you slowly walked him towards the bed. You hid your smile as the spell broke, and the back of his legs bumped the ottoman. He gazed down at your lips, just a little thrown off kilter.

“Tell me.”

You got closer, lifting your hands to the lapels of his shirt and giving them a tug, turning him so you were stood against the ottoman and he was facing you. He moved so easily, as if this was a dance, one you’d practiced a hundred times over.

“Let’s start with this. You said you’d do anything for my forgiveness, right?”

“I meant it.”

“Good.” You nodded, “Because there is something you can do for me.” Your hand traced his jaw, and he leaned into it.

“Name it.” He whispered, lips pressing against your palm. “It’s yours.”

You leaned towards him, faces close, noses touching, foreheads pressed together. You could feel the almost on your lips, could feel his breath. You relished in the feeling, that electric tension between the two of you. You held onto it, inhaled it like smoke, before cutting it loose.

“Kneel.” You breathed.

Feeling his brows twitch gave you a rush, and when you pulled back, he looked like art. You slowly moved down, sitting on the ottoman, holding his gaze. Then slowly, steadily, like he was walking a gossamer-thin tightrope, he shifted, nudging your legs open to stand between them, and lowered himself down to the floor, knees gently knocking against the hardwood one at a time. You give him a slow nod.

“Like that. Good. Stay there.”

Your legs parted a little further, and his eyes lined up with the way your dress lifted, bunching at your hips, exposing black lace with white trim, barely covering the space he seemed to lean towards.

He wet his lips, glancing up at you. Eyes bright but laden with want, so heavy he thought he might drown in it.

“Can I…” He whispered, and you felt it more than heard it, his hot breath tickling your thighs.

You smiled a little, and shook your head.

“Fuck. Please, doll.”

“Did I ask you to beg?”

“No. But… what can I do?”

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you considered.

“You can take these off. Slowly.”

You sighed when his palms brushed your hips, pushing your dress up then hooking soft fingers into the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them over your hips and down your thighs. He was gentle, pulling back but staying oh so close to you as he pulled the lace past your ankles, tossed it to the side, and moved in again expectantly.

“And now?”

You pushed your legs apart again, just enough. Drew in a breath.

“I want you to watch.”

A sound slipped from his mouth, and you weren’t sure if it was just a shaky breath or a quiet curse. His eyes darted between your face and the heat between your thighs. If you couldn’t already feel the mess you’d made, the way his lips parted and his eyes went heavy-lidded would give it away in an instant.

His gaze followed your hand, unwavering as you slowly brought it between your legs, and lazily trailed your fingers towards where you were aching to be touched. Then with a gasp, you brushed your finger against your clit and starting drawing slow circles, slipping further down to push against your opening, slipping through the mess you’d made just from seeing him knelt on the hardwood. 

You kept your head tilted back and your eyes closed, touching yourself with Snow knelt between your legs incredibly brazen, even for you. He was mere inches away, laboured breath dusting the skin of your inner thighs.

But as you melted into the feeling, sinking deeper than you could imagine in just a few short seconds, you opened them again. And there he was, darkened eyes fixed on where your fingers ran messy circles on your cunt, and you let out a soft whine. It was enough to make him redirect his stare to your face, and you couldn’t help but stare back, pressing harder against your clit with a broken sigh. You planted your feet on the floor as you shifted your hips a little, getting slightly closer, making it easier for you to carefully swirl a finger around your entrance, then gently push inside.

“Fuck.” He breathed, rocking forward slightly, to which you shook your head, knee pressing against his shoulder, pushing him back. His pleading eyes drove you on, pushed you to fuck yourself faster, obscene wet noises filling the quiet space.

He looked wrecked; lips parted, eyes begging, glancing up at you. And it only made you all the more shameless, bucking your hips and crying out, gasps slipping from your mouth that you couldn’t deny were getting played up a little for effect. He stared on, looking so fucking small between your legs, so hard you could only imagine it hurt.

You weren’t sure if he noticed he was breathing in tandem with you, but as your breaths picked up, got a little strained, so did his. His eyes slitted, heavy with lust as he stared on.

You got a little cocky; let it go to your head. Nothing would ever beat the rush of adrenaline you felt from seeing the most powerful man you’d ever known giving into you, letting you set the rules. It was intoxicating.

“You okay down there, sweetheart?”

He sighed, slow and heavy.

“I…” He trailed off, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Is there something you need?” Your voice was breathier than you would like, control slipping from your fingertips, but it was still there and the way he looked up at you. His mouth opened again, jaw agape, on his knees like it was a silent prayer. You fucked yourself faster, mean, dripping down your fingers. He finally spoke.

“Please.” He whispered.

“What did you say?”

“I said -” he swallowed “- I said please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me touch you. Put my mouth on you, I won’t even use my hands. Just let me… baby. Come on.” His voice was raspy and ruined.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet? I’m not so sure.”

His breath was shallow, eyes wide and blown out.

“I’ll prove it to you. Just let me touch you, and I’ll do anything you want. Please, doll.”

You hummed, pretending to weigh it up in your head.

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely. Go ahead. But keep your hands to yourself.”

“Thank you. Fuck. Thank you, baby.”

He listened, inching in cautiously, like he was expecting you to change your mind, then he pressed his mouth to you and there it was.

Heaven.

“Oh fuck.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

You hummed as he dragged his tongue over your folds, setting your nerves alight, instinctively rocking into the pressure you’d been thinking about since you got him on the floor. His hands, you noted, sat dutifully on his thighs, gripping onto them like it took a physical reminder for him not to reach out and grab your hips, push his fingers into your soft skin and own you.

As welcome as that sounded to your foggy mind, this was about proving a point. You were the one calling the shots here. So you rocked gently against his face as he kissed your clit, lapping at the heat between your legs, only pulling away at intervals to catch his breath, the daylight making the mess on his chin glisten, only to dive back in again, movements slightly limited by the lack of his hands, which you could see was bothering him.

You couldn’t help but tease him a little between gasps.

“I have to say I missed this. Seeing you underneath me.”

He looked up at you. But there was little defiance in his eyes, just want. Want so depraved that it sent a flush through you, making you feel a little unmoored.

“If I didn’t know better, Coryo, I’d say you were enjoying this.”

Face buried between your thighs, a broken whine sent a little shock through your core. You moaned, getting a little strung-out, a little breathy.

“Is that a yes?”

You felt him nod.

“Good. Glad to see you’re putting up less of a fight this time. It wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Giving in?”

This time, his eyes contained a little more fire. He pushed his tongue firmer against your clit, cutting off your question with a gasp. A few moments passed, and you heard him hum.

“Is there something you want to say, baby? Go ahead.”

He pulled back, catching his breath again.

“Still don’t want me to use my hands?”

You shook your head.

“Then can you… if it’ll feel better.” He glanced at your hand, resting lazily on your thigh.

“What?” You knew what he was getting at, but he shot you back a look as if to say, don’t make me say it.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Then say it.”

“Put your hand in my hair. You can… be rough, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

Your smile turned into a sly grin.

“You want me to pull your hair? You sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t… I liked it, last time.” He confessed quietly.

“Liked what?” You pushed.

He took a steady breath, looking down at the velvet seat you were perched on. He gritted out the words steadily, pointedly.

“When you sat on my face. I liked it.”

You pressed your lips together to hide your smile.

“I know you did.”

He paused, looking down at the floor. Then he looked back up. You brought your hand to his hair, fingers running through the soft strands. He started peppering kisses along the insides of your thighs, something he’d been too desperate to consider when you’d first given him permission to taste you. Now, they sparked the fire even more, and as much as you liked the careful attention, you guided his head to where you needed it. Keeping his words in mind, you gave a slightly rough tug on his hair, and he responded with a pained hum that edged you closer.

At one point, you saw his hand shift to try towards his pants, but you yanked his hair in response.

“No touching yourself yet. Or I’ll only let you watch, okay?”

You built up a rhythm, growing careless with the tugs on his hair so that you felt pressure in all the right places. Your fingers pulled harder as you got close, and you could hear his shallow breath as you took what you wanted from him.

“Fuck. Coryo, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. You wanna make me cum?”

He nodded as best as he could with your hand gripping tight in his hair, and the motion only brought you closer, legs growing weak and tired, hooking over his shoulders now that you’d let him closer. You felt the ache build, almost painful with how long it had been, and you felt yourself snap, spinning out of control as your hand tensed, then fell from his hair. Then his hands were on you, gently this time, smoothing over your bucking hips with a level of control that you melted into as the feeling washed over you. He didn’t stop, pressing his tongue against you harder as you fell apart, shaking like a leaf as he worked your cunt until your cries bordered on screams.

“Fuck. Oh my god, that’s it, I’m…” You broke off into a shout, something so outlandish it sounded foreign to your own ringing ears, but you were too far gone to care. You could vaguely feel yourself grabbing at him as he pulled away, at his hair, his hands, anything, as you slumped back onto the bed. Slowly, he propped himself up, placing a knee between your legs and leaning over you. And his eyes, heavy and wanting, had you aching all over again.

He held back a little, clearly still in the space you’d pushed him into.

“Can I…” He whispered, those desperate eyes fixed on your parted lips as you caught your breath.

“Yeah.” You gasped, and he lowered his head towards you.

This time, he kissed you softer. Still hungry, still wanting, but slow, methodical, like he wanted to relish it. Almost like he wasn’t trying to own you, but in that moment, you could almost go so far as to believe the contrary. And your head swam with pride, feeling his lips on yours as he gently pressed you into the soft mattress.

But you didn’t sit in the feeling for too long.

“Was that okay?” He gasped.

“Yeah. More than okay. But you used your hands at the end there, baby. You know what that means?”

His eyes narrowed as his head cleared a little.

“Lie on your back for me.”

He obliged, dropping onto the mattress and shuffling up to lean against the pillows.

“I missed you, you know.” You murmured as you followed suit, hovering over him to get another kiss.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. Thought I was gonna go out of my fucking mind with how much.”

“Yeah?” You smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”

“I hoped not. Glad I was right.”

You smiled again, and shifted closer towards him.

“I could always show you how much I missed you, if you wanted.” Your eyes darted down to the front of his pants, the outline of his hard cock pressing against the material. He went a little quiet again, nodding a little, and you grinned. Climbed onto your knees so you were just a little above him, then swung a leg over one of his to sit carefully on his thigh. You paused for a beat.

“I won’t touch you until you tell me to, baby.”

He sucked in a breath.

“You can touch me.”

You tutted.

“What do we say?”

“Please.” He added quickly.

Without a word, you leaned in, brushing a hand over his cock, starting gentle, but quickly adding pressure. You could tell he was holding back, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering as he tried to control his breath.

“Not getting shy on me again, are you?”

He didn’t answer, just met your eye and you took it as a challenge. Unbuttoned his slacks and with a glance and a nod, slid them down his legs. You licked your palm slow, making sure he was watching closely.

“Fuck.” He breathed.

“Well, if you’re not gonna talk to me properly, I’m just gonna have to work harder then, aren’t I?” You drawled as you slipped your hand underneath his boxers. There was a soft thump as his head dropped back onto the headboard and he cursed as your fingers grabbed the base of his cock.

“Like that?” Your mouth pulled into a sly smile.

He hummed, breaking off into a sigh, lips parted and eyes towards the ceiling as you fisted his cock. I’ll take that as a yes.

You swirled your thumb around the head of his cock, gathering messy precum that had gathered at the tip from your teasing, and it hit you then that most of your interactions until now had been psychological, toying with words, with ideas and almosts. You knew by now what made him tick, which words you could use to push him to the edge, but you’d barely had the chance to touch each other. But you were a fast learner, and you knew what you wanted from this.

You wanted to make him fall apart.

So you picked up the pace, and it must’ve ached with how fast you were fucking his cock with your fist, but his determination not to lose his cool made it all the more exciting. It got wet, and that was one thing his composure couldn’t hide. It egged you on, shifting your own hips on his tensing thigh as your sore cunt pressed against the muscle.

“You can hold back all you like, but I can tell you’re fucking close.”

His eyes fell shut in a lust-clouded haze, breath picking up. His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned. You were tempted to take it down your throat, really see how he held up then, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet, and you were on a high learning just how to make his body respond to your touch, how to make him weak. So you worked your wrist and felt his legs jolt a little, and you knew it was a matter of seconds.

“If you want to cum, you’ll have to ask nicely. I don’t know how generous I’m feeling just yet. Convince me.”

“Jesus.” He gasped.

“No, just me. Go on, baby. Beg me. You wanted to earlier, right? Now’s your chance.”

An honest-to-god whine left his mouth, voice cracked and completely fucking ruined. You slowed your motions.

“No, baby, don’t stop. I’m so fucking close, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum. I fucking need it, I did everything you said, I got on my knees, I fucking… fuck, I did what you told me, didn’t I? Everything you asked? And I didn’t touch myself, I haven’t… fuck. All weekend, I haven’t-”

You pressed your lips together.

“Poor thing. You’ve gone this whole weekend without cumming?”

“I was a little fucking preoccupied.” He gritted out.

“Over little old me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Please,” he repeated, “I need to cum. I did what you wanted, doll, I- shit-”

Satisfied, you picked the pace up again, obscene wet sounds filling the room as his hips rocked a little into your hand as he got close again. Too far gone now to hold back, his face contorted in pleasure, eyes fixed on you. Then, in a seemingly small motion as you leaned into him a little, the dog tag that had been sitting tucked under your dress - and had stayed hidden against your skin all weekend - slipped out, the pendant swinging into the air beneath you, and as Coriolanus caught sight of it, you felt his hips tense, then his cock was twitching and spilling into your hand.

“Shit, that’s so… oh my fucking god, doll.”

You pulled your hand from his boxers and brought it to your mouth, cleaning it off a little.

“You really did need that, huh?” You smirked, and he sighed.

“Yeah. I really fucking did.”

You nodded at his boxers.

“Can I take these off now?”

He pressed his head into the headboard again and nodded, so you carefully pulled them down his legs. Panting and overheated, he unbuttoned his shirt as you threw the fabric to the floor.  What he didn’t expect you to do, though, was put your hand back on his still-twitching cock that sat tired and used against his stomach. He flinched a little as you palmed it, and you looked at him mischievously. Started to move your hand again, slow and steady, but firm.

“That’s… baby. Stop, I already came, I… fuck.” He winced, sucking in a sharp breath. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You chuckled, voice turning a little dangerous.

“Oh, you thought we were done?”

“Doll, that’s not – shit – that’s not fucking funny. It’s sensitive, I…” It turned into an uncomfortable hum, but you felt him twitch under your palm, slowly getting hard again. His leg gave a little involuntary kick, much to your satisfaction.

“I… what the fuck.” His voice went quiet and strained, and yours got menacing.

“Oh, you can take it, can’t you? Thought you said you liked me taking the lead a little. You can handle it, can’t you, Snow? Or do you want me to stop?”

“Mm. That’s… was different. Please.” You kept going, a rush washing over you as you wondered if he even knew what he was begging for. You got more daring, rubbing your palm over the tip, and grinned when he cried out.

“You want me to stop? Just say the word. I will.”

He was half-hard again, more cum leaking from his tip as you sped up just a little.

Eyes squeezed shut, he shook his head frantically as the rest of him trembled.

“Didn’t think so.”

His face was twisted like he was holding on desperately, trying to maintain control as you relished in his permission, and palmed him harder.

“Jesus fuck.” He said, voice getting louder now, legs twitching and hips bucking up in little jolts you were certain he couldn’t stop if he tried. You had him now, pliable like clay between your fingertips, shaking apart.

“Is that too much for you?” You taunted, getting cocky now.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snapped, but it fell flat when his voice broke halfway through the question. You laughed.

“I know exactly who I am, Snow. I’m the girl you’re gonna be stuck with for a long time, and I’ve got some demands to make. So listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once. You know what happened last week?” You were aware you were starting to sound almost as insane as him, but you didn’t care.

“You don’t ever,” you spat, “do that to me again. If you do, I swear on all of Panem, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”

He whined, desperate, so far gone you weren’t sure he was fully listening.

“Say you fucking understand.”

“I… I understand. Fuck. Please. I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so fucking sorry-”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you another chance. From here on out, you only get to treat me like a whore when I tell you to. Okay?”

“Yes. Yes, okay. I understand. I’m… shit.”

“This is a partnership, starting now. We help each other. We trust each other. We talk to each other. We don’t go behind each other’s backs, or fuck around with other people. Okay?”

“Okay. That’s… doll, can you slow down just a little? You’re… I’m…”

“You’re gonna cum again?”

He nodded, chasing his breath. You leaned towards him, lowering your head to his chest and dragging your tongue against his collarbone.

“Good. You can cum again, Coryo.”

“Thank you. Thank you - fuck. That feels… I’m-”

“You gonna cum all over my hand again, baby? Do it, I’ve got you. You can cum now.”

The second time he came was with a pained cry, painting your hand until it dripped down your wrist and onto his stomach. When you finally released your grip, he slumped down and sighed, aftershocks still jolting through him.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?”

“I did. And I understand.”

“Good.” You murmured into his ear, and you felt goosebumps rise on his torso, “Then I think we can come to an agreement.”

The week went by in a blur of whispered words and tangled limbs. He rarely left you alone, and you barely felt the time pass, every waking moment spent together, flesh on flesh. When he worked, it was at the small desk in his room, and he took plenty of breaks to lounge in bed with you or run you baths.

You learned each other’s tells, growing comfortable touching each other, but Snow stuck to his word, much to your annoyance.

Not until you trust me again, he’d said. Wasn’t it clear enough by you staying?

You’d all but moved into his room, sending Lucille back and forth with hampers for your clothes, which now hang in one side of his closet, or sat folded in his previously empty drawers. You felt closer to him than you ever had before, and the two of you had skin littered with bruises which made you grateful you didn’t have any public functions to attend for quite a while. He’d stopped leaving you to go into the city and work, instead managing people from afar, and letting them get on with their jobs so he could weed out the weakest links.

For the first time, it felt a little like he was yours. Or as much yours as he possibly could be. And as you spent more time together, not just half-dressed and desperate, but talking, really talking, you slowly started to feel like you could be his, too.

“Tell me it feels better than he did. When you were together.” He whispered one morning, when you’d not long woken up and he’d immediately ducked under the covers to get between your thighs. He paused, fingers inside you, looking at you intently, and at first you were confused as to what he meant. You heard the tinge of vulnerability in his voice, and took the cue.

“You really think you deserve that? After everything?”

“No.” He whispered, eyes dropping down again.

“So what do we say?”

“Please.”

“One more time for me.”

He spoke up, voice gorgeously wrecked.

“Please. Tell me it’s better.”

“That’s good. And since you’re being good, I’ll tell you. He didn’t…” you swallowed, catching yourself, “He didn’t really like doing that. what you’re doing.” Your facade cracked a little and you glanced off to the side, not sure what reaction you were expecting.

“Really?” His voice was dumbfounded. It made you laugh.

“You know, Snow, a lot of guys don’t. They’re lazy about it. Want to get it over with, get to the real thing.”

A wide smile pulled at his lips, wolfish.

“Who wouldn’t want to do this?”

“Easy for you to say, handsome.”

He grinned wider.

“Can I try something?”

“I don’t know. will I like it?”

“I think we both will.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Okay, Coryo.”

His smile only deepened, pulling into an excited smirk as he gripped your hips once more, lightly kissing your thighs as he got closer to where you wanted him.

You gasped as his tongue worked you, and when you came, he kept going, easing up only after you’d fallen apart more times than you could keep count.

“Can’t believe you still won’t fuck me.” You pouted one day, as he sat at the desk with a pen in hand, scratching against paper.

He turned around to face you.

“I told you why. Not until-”

“I trust you again, I know. But how do you know that? I could trust you just fine and you wouldn’t even know it.”

“I’ll know.”

You hummed.

“Or,” you started, slipping off the bed and pacing towards him, “you could just fuck me now and call it square.”

He chuckled.

“Nice try, sweetheart.”

You pulled a lip between your teeth as you stood next to him, and he moved his chair out towards you. You smoothed a hand over his dress shirt, and grabbed a hold of his tie. Then you hooked a leg over both of his and lowered yourself onto his lap, face right next to his. You’d grown comfortable with being close to him, and while it still felt electric, you could handle it better. You rocked your hips on his as you got comfortable.

“Feel familiar?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m getting flashbacks.”

You smirked.

“Can I take this off?” You tugged at his shirt.

“Only if you play nice. No acting up, okay?”

“If you say so.” You shrugged, making quick work of the tie and buttons. Once the shirt was off, your lips were all over him, trailing over his chest and neck, tongue tracing lines across his collarbones.

“You don’t have to be anywhere for the next week, do you?” You murmured into his ear.

“No.” His breath hitched a little.

“Good.”

With that, you closed your lips around his pulse, and sucked.

While you littered his whole torso with bruises, and your neck was given a few of its own, you started rocking your hips lazily against him, playing coy like you didn’t know what you were doing, like you couldn’t feel him rock hard between your legs.

“Now this really is taking me back.” His voice strained when he spoke.

You only hummed in response, lace panties bunching in an all-too-familiar way. But you didn’t work your hips like you had something to prove this time, you went slower, taking your time, but staying deliberate in your movements. Your lips met his, breaking away only to breathe, then again when you felt his hips roll a little and his breath get laboured.

You rocked your hips harder, nice and firm. You could feel his cock twitch through his pants, right up against the wet spot forming on your panties. The friction had you shaking.

“Feel good?” You breathed.

“Yeah. Feels real fucking good, sweetheart.”

You smiled as your head lolled back, gasping loud to make sure he really heard it.

“You know what would feel even better, though?”

He mumbled something back but you didn’t catch it, lost in the haze.

“Think it’d feel better if you were fucking me for real right now.”

You didn’t expect the broken moan that escaped him, hands gripping your hips hard. Like the thought of it was enough to make him shatter.

“Baby,” he warned, “don’t.”

“But it would be so easy.” You pressed, “pushing my panties to the side and fucking into me right now.”

“Doll-”

“I know you want to.” you whispered against his ear.

“Do you now?” His strained voice told you everything you needed to know.

You nodded. “Mhm. I know you do. I also know that it’s driving you crazy, having me this close, but not able to take what you want. You must be going out of your mind, you know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because I am too. I’m tired of this rule, Snow. Let’s just forget about it, and fuck me already.”

“Get up.” He said firmly. You started.

“What?”

“You heard me. I said get up, sweetheart.”

You climbed off his lap and stood, cautiously, legs shaking from how close you’d gotten. He did the same, towering over you a little as you failed to hide the smile on your face.

“Get on the bed.”

You took in a breath, shaky with nerves.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

You sat back on the bed, peering over the mattress as he ducked down to pick up something from the floor.

“What are you-”

“Eyes closed.”

“Okay.” You shut your eyes, then felt him get close to you, his lips meeting yours as he knelt in front you, mattress dipping as he shifted. His hands brushed your arms, slowly pushing them behind your back as you melted into him, and before you could open your eyes, you felt the smooth silk of his tie wrap around your wrists and pull.

“What-”

“You want to act up, doll? Fine. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum all over my fingers before you’re begging me to stop.”

His hand slipped between your legs, pushing your lace panties to the side and pressing a finger into your wet cunt as you cried out. Your eyes pleaded at him, desperate.

“But why can’t you-”

“I said,” he repeated, pressing his finger into the spot that make you see stars, “not. Fucking. Yet.”

He spent hours fingering you open, making you cum until you cried. Then he cleaned up your tears and kissed like you were his whole world as you fell into an exhausted sleep, his words floating around in your head.

The black box was tied with a crisp white ribbon, and sat waiting for you on your bed. You approached it with caution, thumbing the piece of card on top of it. It was a note written in ink.

Wear this tonight. Think you’ll suit it well.

-       C.S

You’d gone into your room to collect something of yours to take to Snow’s room. You rarely went into your room anymore, most of your things had found their place in his, much to your satisfaction.

It was the first day in about two weeks that Coriolanus had finally had to leave the house to go into the city, but he’d promised it would just be for the day. It was also the first gala you had to attend since you’d made your decision, which you were slightly nervous for, but mostly excited to get out of the house, because although the sacred oasis that his room had become, it would be nice to have a change of scenery.

And that brought you back to the beautifully wrapped box lay in front of you. You were buzzing. You turned the note over in your hands, pulling it to your face to breathe it in. It smelt like newly printed books, and something distinctly him.

You recognised the label on the box, it was one of your favorite designers. You pushed the lid away to reveal the most beautiful dress you’d ever laid your eyes on – and you’d seen some impressive pieces.

It was a dark crimson red with gold embroidery, soft as silk. You unfolded it gently, letting the fabric spill out towards the floor. It was a little more revealing than anything you currently owned, with a deep slit up the leg and a plunging neckline, waist cinched, but the rest of the dress was floor length. A smile crept onto your face.

After counting down the hours, it was finally time to make your way downstairs. Snow stood in a full suit, waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

“You look beautiful.” He remarked.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” You smiled in response.

You met at the foot of the stairs, and he took your hand in his.

“Thank you for the dress. It’s gorgeous.” You added, not sure why you were lowering your voice in your own lobby.

“I knew it would suit you. Now you’re almost ready to go.”

“Almost?” You frowned, not sure what you could possibly be missing.

Coriolanus lifted his hand to pull the white rose from his breast pocket. He examined it, then lifted it to your hair and tucked it gently behind your ear. Your lips parted in surprise, and your hand reached up to meet his.

“But it’s your signature. I couldn’t-”

“I know. But people won’t be looking at me tonight. They’ll be looking at you. And this way, when they do, each and every one of them will know that you’re mine.”

That knowing smile crept back onto your face, and you leaned in to press your lips to his.

When you pulled away, you thumbed his tie, realising the color matched your dress exactly.

“I’m sensing a similar theme here.”

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve been seen out in public. It’ll be good to show up like this, show a strong front, not leave any doubters.”

You hummed.

“And when we get home?”

His stare drew you in; you could get lost in it and never find your way out.

“That depends.”

Your gaze lowered to his lips, then back up again.

“Missed you today.” You said.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You promise?”

He smiled.

“I promise, sweetheart.”

“Snow?”

He hummed in response. Your hand felt like it could melt into his, thumb brushing your palm.

“What would you say if I told you that I trust you now?”

His hand stilled. His eyes bored into yours.

“I’d say… that I believe you.”

You held your breath in, letting the anticipation wash over you.

“Later?” You whispered, and he nodded.

“Later.”

The ball was one of the most extravagant you’d seen, large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and fountains of champagne dotted around. The health minister had outdone himself, and when you said so to Snow, he muttered a comment about him spending more time planning parties than doing his real job. But he smiled to all the right people, and his hand in yours calmed your nerves as a large procession saw you into the ballroom.

You danced until your feet turned numb, spinning on the ballroom floor, every time Coriolanus put his hands on your waist or wrapped his hand around yours drawing you in further, bringing you closer to forgetting everyone was watching you when his eyes were on yours, each stare becoming some secret language you were now terribly well-versed in. He didn’t let himself get distracted this time, quickly gravitating back to you any time he got pulled away into a conversation, and you basked in the attention, the two of you flirting to high heaven. When you’d spun until you were dizzy, he went to get you a drink, and you stepped off the floor of twirling couples.

It was then that you saw your mother, standing anxiously to one side, the stem of a champagne glass pressed between her fingers. Your parents rarely made it to these functions, but apparently, they had made time for this one. Suddenly aware of your frown and not wanting to arise suspicion, you plastered on a false smile and swanned through the crowd in her direction.

“Oh, darling. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Of course I am, mother, I wouldn’t miss it. Is everything alright?”

She glanced around the two of you nervously, fiddling with her glass. You touched her shoulder and gently guided her further into the corner of the room. You rarely saw her this distressed, usually the picture of grace and poise.

“What’s wrong?” You pressed.

“Have you heard from Nathaniel?”

Your brows furrowed.

“Nathaniel Greene? Not in a long time.” You figured the little stunt of yours from the month before should go unmentioned.

“I heard from his parents the other day. They’re completely distraught.”

“Why? What on earth happened?”

For a second, echoes of threats that had long settled to the ground popped back into the forefront of your mind, and you swallowed thickly. You sat down in two small chairs at the side of the room.

“They can’t begin to understand why. Perhaps it was work, perhaps he was gambling, or in debt, but nothing could possibly explain such a cruel fate.”

“Mother, tell me what happened. Is he…”

Her hands shook, and you took the glass of champagne from her and placed it on a nearby tray.

“He’s not dead, my darling. It’s worse. A messenger came to his house late the other night. They asked him to pack a bag, and they took him away. To… I can barely say it.”

“Mother,” you gritted, “tell me.”

“A peacekeeper, of all things.” Horror filled her voice. “They sent him away to the districts, for the next twenty years. But what could he have done? I can barely understand it. Can you imagine? A young man of his standing, wasting away in that place? His family is ruined.”

Right then, the crowd around you parted in a way that could only announce the presence of one person.

“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”

You lifted your head to meet cool blue eyes and a slightly suspicious stare. From where you sat, Snow towered over you both, drink in hand.

“Everything’s fine.” You replied, “my mother isn’t feeling too well. Do you think we could find my father and have him take her home?”

He nodded at an Avox nearby who stepped dutifully away without missing a beat, and a server offered your mother a tray with a glass of water on it. You stood and faced Coriolanus, conscious of the now very interested crowd, and nodded to the large double doors that stood to your right.

“A word?”

He followed you in cautiously.

“I just heard something interesting.” You started.

He stood up straight, setting his jaw when you finally turned to face him. Even though you were barely alone, just a closed door between you and hundreds of people, it felt electric to be standing so close to him again with nobody watching you.

“What’s that?”

Playing it safe. An interesting move.

“Oh, just some rumor about an old friend of ours.”

“Who would that be?”

You smiled.

“I thought it was funny you asked about him the other day. Were you worried if I left you I’d go back to him?”

“Not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play coy, Coriolanus.” You drawled. “You sent Nathaniel off to be a peacekeeper so I couldn’t go back to him.”

His stony façade fell through a little.

“And if I did?”

The deep frown you’d plastered onto your face for your mother’s benefit fell away, and your lips curved into a smirk.

“I’d say... well played.”

He blinked.

“You’re not upset?”

“Over him? Barely.”

“You’re - ” Snow paused, “so you’re not angry that I sent him away? The districts are hell, you know.”

“I’m sure. I don’t care, Snow. If anything, I’m impressed.”

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“He had it coming. He slept with my closest friend a week after we ended things. He never knew I found out. I’ve just been waiting, really, for him to get what he deserves. I doubted you’d let him off without a warning. There I was thinking you’d lost your touch for a while.”

You wanted to bottle the feeling you got from his eyes burning into you, with something that tasted like admiration.

“I nearly did let him off, for your sake.” He confessed. “But... if that's the case, I'm glad I changed my mind."

“So am I. It was that weekend I left, wasn’t it?”

“Damage control." He said tightly, "You can’t blame me.”

“Thought so. Good work, Snow.” You stepped towards him and revelled in the apprehension on his face with a smirk. “It’s a shame for his family, but they were never particularly nice. Collateral, I suppose.”

“You really don’t care at all?”

“Does it look like I care?”

“No.”

“I think you can read me as well as the next person. So I don’t care. Is that so tragic?”

He shook his head, bewildered. A strange smile appeared on his face.

“No, that’s… that’s good.”

You smirked as a thought popped into your head.

“How long do you think he’ll last out there?”

“Who knows? I hope you’re not banking on him ever coming back.”

You fiddled with his tie, smoothing it down.

“Never. We can’t all be Coriolanus Snow, can we?”

“Certainly not.”

You stepped even closer, and his back bumped softly against the wall. His gaze fell to your lips. You'd painted them a red so deep it was almost black, matching the dress.

"You like the color?" You asked.

"Yeah. Reminds me of when you kissed me in front of everyone and I couldn't get it off."

You laughed.

"Well, it was one way of getting your attention."

"It drove me fucking crazy, you know. It's all I thought about when I jerked off for weeks."

Fuck. Your eyes went a little heavy, laden with want.

“I hope this hasn’t changed our plans tonight.” You murmured.

“Has it changed them for you?”

You shook your head quickly.

“No. You?”

“Of course not.” He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.

“Good. Because now he’s out of our way, I’m tired of this party. I want to go home."

His eyes darkened a little and he drew in a breath.

“I’ll go say my goodbyes.”

With one of his hands on the doorknob, you stopped him.

“Snow?”

“Yes?”

“I don't want you to be nice. Later, I mean.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was just a few squeezes shy of breaking off the doorknob.

Your body slammed against his bedroom door with a force. His hands travelled under your clothes; wanting, needing to touch. You sighed and gasped at the feeling, his cold hands on your skin shooting chills through you, tugging off your clothes, kissing your neck, taking all that he wanted but still desperate for more. The rose had long fallen from your hair and lay, forgotten, on the hardwood. He kissed you with purpose, like he was once again trying to prove that he owned you, all the while understanding that he couldn’t. Maybe that’s what pushed him to touch you, to kiss you like it was the last time, like he was scared you’d float away somehow, even though you both know that wouldn’t really happen.

You understood it, because you felt the same way about him.  

You revelled in it, in the way his hands wrapped around your back, lowered to your legs, and lifted you up to push you harder against the door. His lips travelled across every square inch of bare skin he could find, your dress pushed down to your waist, lace bra exposed.

“Take it off.” He whispered, and you arched your back, reaching for the clasp and unhooking it with lightning speed. The lights were dim in his room, casting shadows that danced as the two of you moved together. Your head fell back against the solid wood as Coriolanus licked a trail up your neck. It was depraved, more passionate than anything you’d felt before. You could hardly think, blood pumping through your veins faster than you could stand. The only thing louder than the rush of blood in your ears was the sound of your breath mixing, hot and heavy as you took, impatient and without apology.

You cried out as his hips pressed harder into yours, and you could feel his length pressing up against you for the hundredth time. Except this time, you could finally let yourself imagine him inside you and trust that he wouldn’t turn this into another round of the game you’d thought endless. You squeezed your legs around his hips.

“Bed.” You gasped, and he grinned, wolfish and thrilled. You were the luckiest girl in Panem, to get to see him look at you that way.

“Been waiting to get this dress off you since I had it made.”

“Don’t tear it. Be gentle.”

“With you, or the dress?”

You narrowed your eyes as he carried you to the bed and placed you down on the mattress.

“Thought I told you that already.”

He was careful with the dress, slipping it over your hips and draping it over the back of the desk chair. When he came back, you were propped up on your elbows, legs bent at the knee, stare unwavering, panties the only thing left to take off. He was still wearing too much, shirt messily undone, pants still fastened but barely concealing the tent beneath them.

“You sure about this?” He checked.

“That a trick question?”

“Doll.”

You laughed. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Take off your shirt, handsome.”

He pulled off the white shirt methodically, and you shifted onto your knees to pull off his belt and toss it to the floor, eager to speed things along. You took in his toned chest and let your gaze sink down to his boxers, where his cock stood painfully hard beneath the material.

“Can I…” You prompted.

“Fuck. Yes. Please.” He sighed as your nails trailed up the bare skin of his thigh and brushed softly over his cock.

You smiled at the addition and took one last glance at his face, anticipation clear on his features that morphed a little in the near-darkness. Then, you pulled the material down his legs and his cock sprung free, and you forgot that you’d done this before, that you were used to this, to him, to being with him in almost every sense. It all slipped away, and as your hand reached to touch him with nothing between the two of you, it felt like the first time you’d ever done it. The breath he sucked in as you started to push the precum around his tip urged you on, making you brazen, and you readjusted your knees on the bed and got closer, then licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip.

“Oh my – fuck.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face, grateful for the darkness.

“That okay?”

He laughed, something dark and untethered.

“You fucking know it is. Such a fucking tease.”

“Wouldn’t be such a tease if we’d done this sooner.”

“Somehow I doubt that, sweetheart – ah.”

He was cut off by you taking the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucking hard as you gripped the base. You pumped your hand a few times and revelled in the sounds he made, choked out grunts and broken sighs, mixed with the occasional curse or a cry of your name.

You felt his hand gently brush against your hair, ever so cautious.

“Can I…”

“Mhm.” You hummed in the affirmative, and he sighed, all low and shaky as he pushed his fingers through your locks, not guiding, just careful pressure on your scalp as he let you take the lead.

“Baby,” he gritted out, “I don’t know how much longer I can… fuck, that’s-”

He sucked in a sharp breath as you stopped, pulling off, lips swollen. You looked up at him, stunned as he caught his breath.

“Coriolanus?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we turn a light on? I can’t… I want to see you.”

In the shadows, you could just make out the glint of his eyes and a dumbfounded smile.

“Of course.”

He stepped away, kicking off his boxers, and you watched him reach over the desk to switch on a small lamp. It lit up his face and you took him in, a thin cast of sweat shimmering across his face and chest. When he turned, you glanced away like you hadn’t been staring. He caught on with a grin.

“Like what you see?”

Such a dick.

“I’d like it better if you were over here.” You mumbled as he paced back towards you.

“You’re the one who wanted the light on, sweetheart. Now I know why.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Snow.”

“Coryo.” His breath danced against your lips as he closed in, lips sealing against yours as he pushed you back on the bed.

“Coryo.” You repeated with a smile when he pulled away kissing down your neck and chest, feeling the shape of the name in your mouth.

Then his hands were on you again as if they’d never left. More heat pooled between your legs as he trailed his hands down your thighs, and you let your head fall back as his fingers pressed through the seam of your panties.

His breath got shaky again as his fingers pushed the scrap of wet fabric to the side. You gasped as his thumb went straight to your clit, determined, rubbing tight circles against the hard nub.

“Oh my god, Coryo, I-”

“So fucking wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?”

It was too much all at once. You pressed your lips together tightly and nodded. Beside yourself, your left hand pressed against your mouth to muffle your moans.

Then he fucking stopped. Your hand fell from your mouth, and you felt the lace get pulled down your legs.

“What are you…” You trailed off. The dim light let you make out his face and you could see his expression now, wanting, but careful, methodical.

“Open your mouth.”

When your lips parted, a little in response, but moreso in surprise, the two fingers he’d been using on your clit slipped into your mouth, pulling your jaw open as his other hand propped him up. You could taste yourself, hot and heavy, spilling onto your tongue.

“I want to hear you, baby. You can’t cover your mouth like that if I’m gonna hear you.”

You nodded, brain a little dead.

“Good girl. Now I don’t have a free hand, know what that means?”

You cried out a little, tongue trapped beneath his fingers.

“Touch yourself, doll. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you nice and fucking close, okay?”

A little self-aware with him hovering right above you, you snaked a hand between your legs, but when you saw the look on his face you stopped wasting time, pushing two fingers inside yourself, heel of your hand bumping your clit as a whine slipped past your lips.

He kept talking, whispering hot and heavy into your ear, dragging his lips over your neck, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, every touch burning your skin like it was molten. When you’d lost yourself enough, mouth still parted; his fingers gentler now he’d made his point, he ducked his head lower, trailing his lips over your tits, placed his mouth over your nipple and sucked. Your moans got louder, feeling like every inch of skin he covered was hardwired to your cunt, your fingers getting tired and sloppy as you got yourself closer, dripping down your thighs.

You made a sound and he glanced up at you, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“Just fuck me. Please, I can’t wait anymore, Coryo.” You whined, trying desperately to slow down your breathing.

“Poor baby. Couldn’t make yourself cum first?”

You shook your head, any more and you were sure your eyes would start to water.

“That’s okay, doll. I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.”

He lowered himself down towards you, arms either side of yours, crowding you in. Then his hands travelled down, lower, and your eyes rolled back, mouth agape as you felt his cock press against your entrance.

“Fuck.” You whispered, and he was strangely quiet. You blinked, and looked down at him, and you’d never seen such a pained look on his face. His lips parted, eyes heavy and slitted as he looked down at where his cock rubbed up and down like he was in a trance, slowly nudging your clit and getting himself wetter, tip glistening in the dim light.

Desperate for friction, you started rocking your hips, aching for him to push inside of you.

“Not just yet.” He breathed, voice strung-out and insane. “I won’t make you wait much longer, baby.”

“Please. I need you to fuck me. Don’t make me fucking beg.”

Usually, you’d see a sly smile appear on his face, but he just pressed his eyes closed as if the thought was going to send him over the edge. It was the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. Then, finally, you felt his cock catch at your entrance, and slowly press inside. You gasped at the pressure, at the size of him, and he was barely even moving.

“That’s it, baby.” He breathed. “I’m right here.”

He shifted his hips a little, and you clawed at his back, nails digging in until he hissed, rocking your hips to beg for more. You didn't want him holding back, not when you'd waited months for this. You strained your neck lifting it from the bed to whisper in his ear.

“I meant what I said, Coryo. Don’t be fucking nice.”

It was as if something in him snapped. Like he was holding on by a single thread, and you’d send him spiralling out of control. His hips jerked forward and you cried out as he filled you to the hilt, then rocked into you again, picking up a pace that was almost punishing. You tasted it, still wet on your lips, clung to your skin, and now, deep inside you.

Danger.

“So fucking pretty. Does my pretty girl need to get fucked, huh? Just like that?”

You could barely form words, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in further, feeling pinned open and beautifully used. Your cries melted together in your head until you could only understand bits and pieces, and as he fucked you, unrelenting, you felt your back slide up the mattress. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure they must’ve drawn blood. His forehead pressed against yours,

For a second, he slowed, looking down at you.

“That okay?” He muttered.

You nodded, frantic, barely there.

“Yeah.”

He sped up again and your legs grew weak. He reached his free hand down to grab hold of your thigh and push it higher, the new angle making you see stars, clenching around him impossibly tight.

“Good fucking girl.”

At some point, as you exchanged fewer words and more heated glances, you felt your hand slip from his back and come to rest against over his on your thigh, to hold it in place. He took it in stride, taking it in his, fingers interlacing as his thumb brushed yours.

You didn’t think much of it. How could you? Not when he was stretching the walls of your cunt as you gripped him like a vice. Not when you could barely hear the words coming from either of your mouths. But oddly, it was the gentle contrast that pushed you to the edge as he fucked into you just like you’d asked, hard and unrelenting, mean.

Despite it all, it was the thumb that brushed yours that had moans spilling from your mouth as you both took exactly what you wanted from each other. It sparked something in you, something that let you know you were safe here, that there weren’t any walls between you anymore, no twisted games that wouldn’t benefit you both equally.

“I’m close.” You gasped as his cool blue eyes spilled into yours, and you knew he was all yours.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? I can feel it.”

You nodded silently, muscles in our thighs tensing around his back, the hand that was twisted into yours now falling onto the bed beside you. He gripped it tighter, and fucked you harder, with a point to prove. When your eyes slid shut in ecstasy, right on the edge of falling apart, he squeezed your hand, palms hot and clammy against each other just like the rest of you.

“Look at me, baby.” He urged, fighting for breath. “You’re so fucking close, I need – shit – need to see you when you cum for me.”

It wasn’t hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them on him when he looked like that, like he was carved by the fucking gods, brow scrunched and shining with sweat, eyes bluer than ever, lips parted in an o shape. It was the prettiest sight you’d seen, and your hand tensed around his when you came, trembling like a leaf, mouth parting in a shout you barely heard, eyes focused on him, only him as he fucked you through it.

"Fuck, that's it, doll. Like that? Right fucking there?"

You cried out in response, and as you spilled apart, you heard your name slip past his lips through your ringing ears , followed by a string of curses, each one filthier than the next, not letting up once as he followed you over the edge, hips stuttering as you felt warmth fill your walls and his head fall down onto the pillow beside yours.

A few moments passed as you let the feeling wash over you, feeling the wonderfully sore, sticky mess between your thighs after he pulled out. You heard him catch his breath, then tumble onto his back by your side. You sighed as you stared at the ceiling, then at him, and with a smile realised he’d been looking at you.

“Like what you see?” You echoed. He smiled, coy.

“You know I do, beautiful.”

You sighed, satisifed.

“Keep calling me beautiful, Snow, and I might start thinking you want to fuck me.” You teased. “Wouldn’t want to give a girl the wrong idea.”

He laughed, bright and loud. A few more seconds passed, and you hummed.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I’m just a little annoyed I didn’t get to ride you.”

He swallowed then smiled, almost awe-like, transfixed. It was a feeling that you’d gotten used to over the past few weeks, but it felt new this time. Different.

“You’re not done?”

“Are you?”

He glanced at your lips, then back up again, voice earnest.

“Not with you, sweetheart.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Good. Then lay back. Head on the pillow for me.”

He obliged, blonde curls spilling over the fabric. You liked it when he grew his hair out a little, you thought as you hooked a leg over his waist. His hands came up to touch you, but you pressed his wrists back into the mattress.

“No touching, Coryo. You hear me?”

He nodded, eyes darkening again, and you lowered your head to kiss him, deep and slow. Felt yourself meld into him with a smile as his cock hardened against your thigh.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the white rose he'd given you, discarded haphazardly on the wooden floor.

And something inside you just knew, you’d never get bored of this.

a/n: hope you liked it. thank you again for the love and for screaming along with me this whole time <33

taglist: (more in the comments) : @superchatnoir07 @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904@pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @ohstardew @ohmeadows

[fuyuu-chan]

Snuggling To Keep You Warm

Characters: Neuvillette, Kamisato Ayato, Vyn Richter, Jing yuan, Sung Jinwoo (+ some characters you like or you think fit)

Genre: Fluff

Fuyuu-chan: idk why i suddenly stopped posting when i have a lot of fics in my drafts 😭 maybe because i feel lazy lol

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

You just hopped into shower and just started when the water turned cold out of nowhere not to mention in a cold weather. You contemplated for a minute before deciding to continue, no choice as the heater isn't heating the water and you're already wet since first its hot water but it betrayed you so you decided to take the cold shower now. You dry off your body and hair all while shivering. I mean who wouldn't after taking an ice cold shower?

After dressing into comfy clothes and finishing your routine. You went to his office and asked if you could cuddle, he invite you to seat on his lap as he hugged you. Asking what happened.

"I'm cold, I took a cold shower since the heater decided to betray me" you answered.

"Oh? Why didn't you tell me about the heater?" He asked as he brushed your hair.

"Well you're working and I don't wanna bother you" you said as you snuggled.

"Y'know I would drop anything just for you right?" he asked as he held you a bit tight.

You hummed. "Can I stay here?" you asked as you peeked at him. "Of course, anytime besides is that even a question?" he answered as he put your head back onto his shoulder for you to lean on. "Do you want us to go to the couch? It will be more comfortable for you, we could also watch something while we're at it" he added. "Hmm but you're working?" You asked.

"Nah I just finished besides I wanna cuddle you" he answered.

"Okay then" you nod because you love hanging out in his office, its comfortable and the couch too. He carried you to the couch and placed you down. "Stay here, i'll make us some hot drink, it will help on getting your body warm again"

"Alright" you said. He kissed your forehead all while smiling before he left to go to the kitchen. You were playing on your phone when you start feeling cold again, you got up and decided to grab a blanket from your room. You exit his office and was heading to the room when you saw him coming back to the office. "(name)? where are you going?" he asked as he was holding a tray containing two cups filled with hot drink and some snacks.

"I'm still cold, just gonna grab a blanket, you go ahead" you replied as you smiled and he nods. You quickly go to your room and took a blanket before going back to his office. Inside, the tray he was carrying earlier was now in the coffee table, and there he sat at the couch waiting for you while scrolling down picking your favorite show so it will be ready. "I'm back" you said as you sat beside him draping the blanket on both of your laps.

"Welcome back, are you ready?" He said and you nod eagerly. He took both cups handing one to you as he put his arms around your shoulder after playing the show. After watching some few episodes you fall asleep as your head fall onto his shoulder, feeling your head on his shoulder he lean on top of your head as he pulled you closer to him and grabbing the blanket up to both of your shoulders covering the two of you.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER TWELVE: PICTURE PERFECT

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ You think you understand why people say "Happy Holidays." You are happy. A busy household during Christmas is something you’re familiar with. You distinctly remember waking up in the tower on Christmas morning to find Thor standing above you with a big stupid grin, not even having changed from his asgardian armor. This time, however, it’s Jon floating above you, a silly Santa hat on his head. “Merry Christmas.” You roll over, pulling your pillow over your head. “Nothing merry about waking me up so damn early.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none, none at all wc: 4.3k

sorry for the late-ish post! totally forgot it was upload day woopsie

The next day, you're awakened by the sound of Alfred entering the room with a tray of food. You sit up, feeling much better already, and gratefully accept the meal. "Thank you, Alfred," you say with a smile.

"You're quite welcome," he replies, his tone warm. "Master Bruce and the others will be here shortly. They have a few more questions for you."

You nod, taking a bite of the food and feeling your energy start to return. True to Alfred's word, Bruce, Damian, and Jon enter the room a few minutes later.

Bruce starts. "We've been discussing your situation. We’d like to better understand your abilities. You've explained your origins, but we need to see what you can do."

You nod, setting the tray aside and standing up. "Fair enough. What do you need to see?"

"We'll start with a simple demonstration of your web abilities," Bruce says. "Show us what you can do with and without the bracelets."

“Not inside the room. Go downstairs,” Alfred cuts in firmly. You all nod and scurry downstairs. Bruce shows you how to access the Batcave via the clock. You pretend to pay attention, as if you didn’t already know. Once inside, he takes you all aside into a quaint little training room, where all the other batkids are waiting. The mat feels like home under your feet. He prompts you to show them what you can do.

You nod and raise your wrist, shooting a web towards a nearby wall. The organic webbing shoots out with precision, sticking to the wall firmly. It’s a simple web, straight and true. Equipping the bracelets, you decide to send out a web-net. The size of it covers a great deal of the wall.

“My organic webs are really only good for swinging and grabbing stuff,” you explain.

“[Name] has 576 possible web-shooter combinations,” Karen pipes up helpfully from the computer. Bruce’s slight frown suggests he’s not used to her yet, and probably won’t be for a while. “Much more versatile than their organic webs, of course.”

Tim looks impressed as he glances at Bruce. "576 combinations? That's... a lot."

You grin and nod. "Yeah, my dad loves over-engineering things. The web-net is just one of the many tricks up my sleeve."

Damian steps forward, eyes narrowed in thought. "What about your strength and agility? We need to see how you compare to us."

You nod, understanding the need to prove yourself. "Sure thing. What do you want me to do?"

Bruce gestures to a nearby set of weights. "Lift that."

You walk over to the weights, easily lifting a barbell that looks like it should be far too heavy for your frame. You then set it down and leap onto a nearby platform with a single bound, showcasing your agility.

"Not bad," Damian admits, though his tone is still cautious. "But can you fight?"

You smirk. "Why don't we find out?"

Damian raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the challenge. He steps onto the mat, and you both take your stances. The others  watch closely as you and Damian circle each other.

Damian strikes first, his movements quick and precise. You dodge and counter, your enhanced reflexes allowing you to keep up with his speed. The two of you exchange blows, each testing the other's limits. Damian's skill is evident, but your enhanced strength and agility give you an edge.

He’s got all the tells of a trained assassin. His eyes dart around your figure, looking for openings and weaknesses. He adapts seamlessly, each of his movements controlled and calculated. He aims to control the flow with every jab, kick and punch. Unfortunately for him, you’ve been trained by one of the deadliest assassin of your world, Natasha Romanoff.

You decide it’s time to up the ante. You feint to the left, then quickly spin and sweep his legs out from under him. Damian lands on the mat but rolls back up to his feet instantly, eyes blazing with determination. He’s not used to being bested so easily, but he respects the challenge.

“You’re good,” Damian admits grudgingly, adjusting his stance. “But let’s see how you handle this.”

He lunges at you with a series of rapid strikes, forcing you to focus entirely on defense. You block and parry, your reflexes barely keeping up with his speed. You notice an opening and take it, landing a solid punch that sends him skidding back.

Before he can recover, you shoot a web at his feet, sticking him to the mat. He struggles for a moment before smirking and cutting himself free with a small blade.

“Me! Me next!” exclaims Stephanie, waving her hand around in the air. You take turns sparring everyone—save for Jon, who has just been watching a bit stiffly—, winning every time (not to brag or anything). You get a few hearty laughs when you manage to lift Jason with one hand and gently slam him to the mat. 

Then your final opponent steps up, Cassandra Cain. You gulp slightly. She’s written off as one of the best fighters in the Batfamily, and probably the DCverse. You’re supposed to be holding your strength back to show your skill, so it’s a matter of being smart, not strong.

You start cautiously, circling each other as you assess her fighting style. Cassandra doesn't waste any movements, each strike calculated to test your defenses. You rely on your agility and strength to keep up, blocking and countering her attacks with equal precision.

As the spar intensifies, you find yourself impressed by Cassandra's skill and adaptability. She adjusts her tactics based on your responses, probing for weaknesses in your defense. You're forced to rely on more than just brute strength, using strategy and technique to gain an advantage. Damn, she’s really good. It’s a blessing you’ve been trained by the goddam Avengers.

Your fighting styles are similar, fluid and dance-like. You’re impressed but not surprised by her ability to read your movements and react almost instantaneously. Natasha’s words replay in your mind.

“Predict every possible movement of theirs.”

You huff, arms hanging by your side, tired. “What, like Garou?”

Natasha raises a perfect eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and slight amusement. You wave your hands in dismissal. “Forget it.”

Natasha steps forward, her movements fluid and controlled. “It’s not just about predicting every move, it’s about understanding your opponent’s rhythm and intent. You need to see the fight a couple of steps ahead. Every slight movement can give away their intentions."

She demonstrates, moving with a fluid grace that you've come to admire. "You have the strength and agility. Now you need precision and awareness to make them truly effective."

In front of Cassandra now, you truly do feel like Garou. Your mind paints images of every way she could go, every move she could make. You feint to the right, then shift your weight and spin to the left, aiming a kick at her midsection. Cassandra blocks it effortlessly, but you expected that. Using the momentum from your spin, you drop low and sweep her legs.

Cassandra jumps, avoiding your sweep with an almost inhuman agility. But you're ready. As she comes back down, you grab her wrist and twist, using her own momentum against her to flip her onto the mat. She lands softly, rolling to her feet with a small smile.

"You're very good," Cassandra says quietly, her tone filled with genuine admiration.

"You're incredible," you reply, equally impressed.

Dick claps to be dramatic, initiating a round of applause from everyone else (except Damian, the stinker). You grin and bow dramatically. “Kicked our asses,” mumbled Jason, rubbing his jaw.

After the applause dies down, Bruce steps forward, a thoughtful look on his face. "You've shown us your abilities, and it's clear you have the skill and strength to be a valuable asset. Now we need to focus on integrating you into our ways."

Alfred clears his throat politely. "Perhaps, Master Bruce, our guest would benefit from a proper rest before diving into further training and mission planning."

Bruce nods. "Of course. We'll take a break for now. You've done well today."

As the group disperses, Jon approaches you with a friendly smile. "Hey, that was awesome. I can't wait to see what else you can do."

“Well thank you… Superboy,” you grin as he rolls his eyes playfully. Hooking your arm in his, you begin to walk out the cave. “Seriously thought, I bet if I was a normal person I still could’ve figured you out.” He raises a brow in challenge. “I mean, the Ferris wheel thing? Seriously?”

He groans. “I was trying to get you to safety!”

“My hero,” you smirk.

He drops you off at your room, exiting from your window with a wave. Nari is happily cuddling with Alfred on your bed, the sight making you coo. You gently sit by them and run your hand down Nari’s back.

Your door opens without as much as a knock or warning. Damian pauses when he sees you on the bed.

“Now, what would you have done if I was naked?” you ask sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“Tt,” he scoffs, eyes looking away. “I was merely looking for Alfred.”

“Might have to get in line somewhere, Nari’s holding her hostage,” you hum, looking down at the pair. The sounds of purring cats fills you with calm. You see him still standing in the doorway. “Well? Come on, come sit.”

He hesitates to move, before stepping forward and shutting your door. He sits on the other side of the cat pile. “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You shrug nonchalantly. “I just mean you’ve been weird since I revealed my totally awesome alter ego.”

“I have not.”

You roll your eyes. "Oh please, Damian. You practically scowled through our entire spar. You mad ‘cause I kicked your ass or something?”

He crosses his arms defensively. "I am not upset."

"Right," you say skeptically. "Then what is it?"

Damian looks away, his expression unreadable for a moment. "It's nothing."

You raise an eyebrow. "You don't usually act like this. Come on, out with it."

“You…” he grumbles, clearly annoyed at being pushed, “...everytime I think I have you figured out, you surprise me.” He leans back, lying down on your mattress. “I don’t know anyone like you. And now, to find out you have been parading around as the new vigilante we’ve been so preoccupied with…”

You lean back as well, listening as Damian tries to articulate his thoughts. His demeanor shifts from guarded to contemplative, and you sense a rare vulnerability in his words.

“Not to mention you’ve known who we were since then…” he muttered, eyes on the ceiling. “

You listen attentively, sensing Damian's struggle with his thoughts. His words reveal a complexity you hadn't fully anticipated. "It must be strange," you offer quietly, "to have someone come into your world who knows so much and yet is still a mystery to you." 

“Are you mad because I kept it a secret from you…? Technically, you kept Robin a secret from me,” you offer.

Damian shifts slightly, his gaze flickering to meet yours briefly before returning to the ceiling. "It's not just that," he admits quietly. "You're skilled, strong, and you fit into our world seamlessly. It's..."

He shifts closer, his expression unreadable but his eyes holding a mix of curiosity and something deeper. "I want to understand you better," he says, his voice low.

You reach out, cupping his face with your hand. His eyes bore into yours, earnest. "I want you to understand me better too, Damian," you say softly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "I know I've come into your life in a pretty unconventional way, but I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

Then, you add shyly, “if you’d have me.”

Damian's lips quirk in a small, almost imperceptible smile. "You've certainly managed to keep me on my toes."

You chuckle softly. "Likewise. But hey, that's part of the fun, right?"

He nods, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as his eyes grow half lidded. "Fun... yes, I suppose it is."

Your heart slows in its beats, relaxing. You take in the mattress against your cheek, taking in the calm and gentle atmosphere. You feel a rush of warmth as Damian's hand finds yours, his touch surprisingly tender. The air around you feels charged with a mix of uncertainty and possibility. You squeeze his hand gently, a silent reassurance that you're here, you're present, and you want this.

"I didn't expect this," Damian admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turn your head to look at him, meeting his gaze. "Neither did I, to be honest. But sometimes unexpected things turn out to be the best."

He nods slowly, his expression softening as he looks at you. "You're not like anyone I've ever known."

"And you're not like anyone I've ever known either," you reply with a small smile. "But I think that's a good thing."

Damian leans closer, his face now just inches from yours. "Perhaps..."

Before either of you can say anything more, the door creaks open slightly. You both turn to see Bruce standing there, a faint hint of concern in his eyes.

"Ahem," Bruce clears his throat. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

Damian sits up abruptly, his demeanor shifting to a more guarded stance. "Father, what is it?"

Bruce steps into the room, his eyes briefly scanning the scene before focusing on Damian. "I need to speak with you about something. Come down to the cave."

Damian nods, the serious look returning to his face. "Understood. I'll be there shortly."

Bruce glances at you, his expression softening slightly. "Thank you for your cooperation today. Your skills are impressive, and we look forward to working with you." Ever the most formal guy in the room.

You nod, feeling a mixture of pride and nervousness. "Thank you.”

Bruce gives a curt nod and leaves, the door closing softly behind him. Damian turns to you, his expression thoughtful.

"I should go," he says, his tone reluctant.

You nod, understanding the demands of their work. "Of course. Duty calls."

As Damian stands, he hesitates for a moment before grabbing your hand and pressing a light kiss on your pulse. "We'll talk more later," he promises. You can say anything, so you nod.

Damian leaves the room, and you find yourself alone with your thoughts. Nari, sensing the shift in mood, nuzzles closer to you, offering silent comfort. You stroke his fur absently, your mind replaying the events of the day.

A busy household during Christmas is something you’re familiar with. You distinctly remember waking up in the tower on Christmas morning to find Thor standing above you with a big stupid grin, not even having changed from his Asgardian armor.

This time, however, it’s Jon floating above you, a silly Santa hat on his head. “Merry Christmas.”

You roll over, pulling your pillow over your head. “Nothing merry about waking me up so damn early.”

Jon chuckles, his laughter light and carefree. "Come on, Scrooge. Get up and go downstairs." When you don’t move, he pounces on you. His fingers wiggle across your stomach as you shriek and fight to get free.

“Okay, okay! Jeez,” you concede. He rolls off of you, not without placing a hard kiss on your head. 

Damian pokes his head into your room with an annoyed expression. "What’s all this nonsense?"

Jon turns to him with a bright smile, "Just spreading some holiday cheer. Get in the spirit, Dami!"

You stretch and sit up, rubbing your eyes. "Yeah, Dami. It’s Christmas. Let’s be cheerful and merry."

He scowls slightly but steps into the room. "Tt. Christmas is just another day."

You and Jon share a knowing look before you hop out of bed and tackle Damian in a hug. "Oh, come on. Even you can't be grumpy on Christmas!" Damian sighs but doesn't push you away. 

The three of you head downstairs to the living room where the rest of the Batfamily is already gathered. The faint scent of Alfred's cooking wafts through the air, and you can hear laughter and chatter echoing through the halls. The tree is beautifully decorated, and presents are piled high underneath it. Bruce is sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, looking surprisingly relaxed.

Alfred hands you a steaming mug of hot cocoa as you join the group. "Merry Christmas," he says with a warm smile.

"Merry Christmas, Alfred," you reply, taking a sip of the rich, delicious drink. You glance around the room, your gaze landing on Damian, who is sitting quietly by the tree, watching the proceedings with a thoughtful expression.

You join the rest of the Batfamily in the living room, enjoying the festive atmosphere. Jon is already diving into his presents, enthusiastically tearing off the wrapping paper. Dick and Barbara are sitting together, exchanging gifts and laughing. Tim is deep in conversation with Stephanie, who is trying to guess what he got her. Even Jason seems to be in good spirits, joking around with Duke and Cass.

You decide to approach Damian, holding your mug of hot cocoa. You sit down beside him, the warm and festive atmosphere contrasting with his contemplative demeanor.

He glances at you as you settle beside him, his expression softening slightly at your presence. "Enjoying yourself?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral.

You take a sip of your cocoa, letting the warmth spread through you before answering. "Yeah, it's nice. Reminds me of home," you admit softly, thinking back to the holidays you spent with your family and the Avengers. Damian watches you quietly, seeming to consider your words.

"Your family must be... different," he finally remarks, his tone almost curious.

You nod, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, definitely different. But they're good people. Just like yours." You gesture subtly towards the rest of the Batfamily, who are now engaged in lively conversation and laughter.

Damian follows your gesture with a small nod, his gaze lingering on his family for a moment. "They're... unique," he admits quietly, a hint of something warmer in his voice.

Finally you sigh, “Well.” You dig into your pocket and pull out a box, handing it to him.

“Merry Christmas.”

He takes the box, opening it gingerly. Inside lies a sleek looking ring. Damian raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting from surprise to intrigue as he takes the ring in his hand.

"What is it?" he asks, turning the ring over to examine it.

“A ring,” you smile. He rolls his eyes so you elaborate. “It’s something I made. Karen is built into it, so she can help you personally.” You tap it twice, pulling up a hologram. “Here’s all the stuff she can do.”

The hologram reflects in Damian’s eyes as they flutter left to right, reading. “Happy to help, Damian,” Karen says.

“It also works as a communicator, so if you’re ever in need of me to save you from getting your ass-kicked, she’ll let me know,” you grin.

Damian ignores your little comment in favor of sliding the ring over his finger. He examines the way it shines under the light, nodding. “It’s adequate.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re welcome.

He gets up abruptly then. “Stay there,” he commands, walking off into another room. He’s gone before you can blink, so you clasp your hands together awkwardly and observe the room. Jon has gone and went to his parents (which, oh my god, Superman and Lois Lane are here, holy shit. You wonder if Bruce told them about you.) and is talking animatedly to them. In his hands is a small canvas in his hands, you can barely make out the portrait of Jon on there. Must be Damian’s gift to him.

Speaking of, you hear his footsteps come back. You turn to see Damian returning with a small, elegantly wrapped box in his hand. He sits back down beside you, his expression more relaxed than before. He holds out the box towards you.

"Here," he says simply, his voice quieter than usual.

You take the box, carefully unwrapping it to reveal a.. camera! It’s a nice one, definitely expensive. It fits perfectly in your hands, just the right size for travel.

"You said you like photography," Damian explains quietly, his gaze flickering to meet yours. "You also said you’d like a memory. Now, you can capture them.”

You feel a rush of warmth in your chest as you realize the significance of the gift. "You remembered.” It comes out as a whisper. “Thank you, Damian," you say softly, touched by his gesture. You attach the strap of the camera and hook it around your neck.

He nods, seeming satisfied with your reaction. "It suits you," he remarks, his tone almost approving.

You smile, reaching out to gently touch the lens. "I love it."

“[Name]!” Jon exclaims, crossing the room to get to you. His hands grasp yours and pull you off the couch. “Come meet my parents.

Oh dear. You send a look to Damian for help but the bastard just smirks at you. You chuckle softly at Damian's smirk before allowing Jon to lead you over to where Clark Kent and Lois Lane are standing. They both turn to you with warm smiles, Clark's eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Hello, [Name]," Clark greets you warmly, extending a hand. "It's good to finally meet you. Jon has told us a lot about you."

Lois nods in agreement, her expression friendly yet keen. "Yes, Jon's been quite excited to introduce you to us."

You shake Clark's hand with a smile, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at meeting such iconic figures. Shit, you thought you would’ve had the fan behavior under control by now. "It's a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. and Mrs. Kent. Jon has been wonderful to be around.”

Jon beams proudly, standing beside you. "They're really nice, right?"

Clark chuckles warmly, his gaze flickering briefly towards Jon before returning to you. "He speaks very highly of you, [Name].” He pointedly looks at Jon as he says this.

Lois’ eyes flick down to your camera. “Interested in photography?”

You nod eagerly, feeling a little more at ease with their friendly demeanor. "Oh, yeah. I like capturing moments. It’s a small passion of mine.”

“Well if you ever get tired of superheroing call me. I’m sure we could use an excellent photojournalist,” she winks.

“Mom,” Jon complains. Lois shrugs innocently.

You laugh warmly, feeling more comfortable with Lois' playful banter. "I'll keep that in mind, Miss. Thank you." In another universe, maybe.

Jon tugs at your hand. "Come on, I want to show you something." He drags you towards the Christmas tree where a beautifully wrapped gift waits for you. You hear the chuckles of his parents as you’re pulled away.

You smile at Jon's enthusiasm, kneeling down to unwrap the present. Inside a bracelet. The beads make up a beautiful image of green and blue. There’s a spider charm hanging from it. Jon beams up at you, clearly proud of the gift he chose.

“I saw a video online about making bracelets for each other's eyes,” he mutters shyly. “I made one for you out of me and Damian’s eyes.”

The bracelet feels like gold in your hands. "It's perfect, Jon," you say genuinely, feeling touched by his thoughtfulness.

Clark and Lois watch the exchange with warm smiles, clearly pleased by Jon's happiness and your appreciation.

You thank Jon again with a hug, feeling a surge of warmth at the bond you've formed with him and his family, hearing his heartbeat speed up before his arms wrap around you. “Oh, before I forget.”

You pull out another box, handing it to Jon. “I know you were listening to me and Dames earlier, stinker.” It’s cute to see how his face turns red after being caught. “It’s the same thing I got him. Connects to this–” you tap the nano-earpiece where Karen speaks to you. “–and his. Our own little channel.” Jon's eyes widen with excitement as he takes the box from you, eager to see what's inside. He opens it carefully, revealing a similar looking ring. His grin widens as he realizes what it is.

He slips the ring onto his finger, marveling at how it fits perfectly. "This is so cool. I can't wait to try it out!"

The rest of the Batfamily gathers around, curious about the new gadgets and gifts being exchanged. Dick claps Jon on the back. "Nice one, Jon! Now you can bug them anytime."

Jason chuckles. "Or maybe they'll bug you."

Duke eyes the camera around your neck. “Ooh, family photo time?”

Groans echo the room as your hands come up to grip the camera. With everyone gathered around the Christmas tree, you snap a few photos, capturing moments of laughter and camaraderie. Jon is grinning widely, Damian is trying to look nonchalant but can't hide a small smile, and even Bruce cracks a rare smile at the camera. The rest of the Batfamily, along with Clark and Lois, join in the festive spirit, making silly faces or posing dramatically.

“Now you,” Cass says, waving you over. You huff good-naturedly and set the camera up, scurrying to squeeze between Damian and Jon. You hold up your hands in the ‘spidey’ pose, grinning. Jon squeezes you and Damian to him, cheeks mushing with each others.

The pictures turn out perfect.

notes: jon watching reader and damian spar: am i into this

yeah damian felt a little thrown finding out he doesn’t know you as well as he thought. i figured he’s the type to not like knowing things, and well, reader being spinnerette? and knowing he was robin before he could ever think to tell them? yeesh. its okay now though :)

[ragingbookdragon]

Post-mission is always a little rough on Simon. It’s getting back to some semblance of normalcy by sleeping and eating like he didn’t just technically commit a few war crimes. And her, God, if it weren’t for her, Simon doesn’t know where he’d be. Probably still alive, but deadened inside more so than he already thinks himself to be—he’d most likely be an even more hollow specter of a man. She helps, the best she can. Simon doesn’t tell her about the missions (for security purposes as much as it is her mentality), and she doesn’t ask too many questions other than, “Any injuries?” and “Kick some ass?”

He awakens to sunlight, a quiet bedroom, and a digital clock beside him that reads seven-thirty. Simon wonders if there’s something stronger than just chamomile in that tea she makes him drink at night when he isn’t tired, but he feels better than he has in months, so he isn’t complaining.

It does take him a few moments to actually find the desire to move, too warm, too comfortable. Her side of the bed is cool, but the scent of her remains and he rolls over, buries his face in her pillow, and inhales. Simon’s never really understood how shock blankets are supposed to ease someone’s fear, but he does know how the waves of calm seem to roll over him, like he’s laying on the bottom of the ocean, watching the waves as they crash over him, but it’s anything but choppy and rough. Smooth, gentle, loving.

His back aches as bad as his knees do when he finally gets up, but he stretches, pops his bones and joints before slipping on his sweatpants and sweatshirt, hood over his head as he pads into the hallway and listens. It’s a moment before he hears her humming from the kitchen and he follows the sweet sound of her soft voice, leaning against the doorway as he watches her.

Simon likes BLT’s and tomato bisque soup when he comes back from missions. It’s a special dinner she usually makes him, enough that he can have seconds and lunch for the day after, and she sings to herself as she spoons a hearty serving into the bowl on the tray before placing the freshly pressed sandwich on the plate with “Oo oo ah” as she blows on her fingers from the heat. There’s a fresh cup of tea and one of his water bottles with those electrolyte powders in it he loves. Even a fresh flower in a single vase.

A picture-perfect lunch and her smile drops like a sack of bricks, replaced with shock when she turns and sees Simon smiling softly at her from the doorway.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” she whispers, as if he’s not there. “You’re not in bed.”

He nods. “Your observation skills are stellar, love. Perhaps you actually are learning something.”

Her lids drop in a deadpan stare as she sets the tray back on the counter and points to it, “I made you food, asshat.”

Simon walks over and practically shoves half of the sandwich in his mouth and she merely sighs. “Fhank fou,” he says with his mouth full and normally, she’d make a comment on him chewing and talking with food in his mouth, but he looks at peace and that peace drifts to her as she reaches up, wipes the corner of his mouth as he swallows.

“You’re welcome, Simon.” Her fingers drift to his cheek and she thumbs his cheekbone. “My handsome Ghost.”

His larger hand covers hers and he hums. “No Ghost here, only me.” He gazes into her eyes. “Only Simon.”

Her eyes crinkle around the edges and she steps on her tiptoes to nuzzle her nose to his as she whispers, “My handsome Simon. All mine. Always mine.”

“Always yours, love,” he murmurs back to her, hand still holding hers; he feels safe. “Forever.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hump day, wooooo.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Strange how you never found comfort at home. Well, it never felt like one for you. You were always just a hanger-on. A burden. 

As you enter your grandma's house, you can't help but exhale the tension you've been holding in. She's in her chair, reading, not a word at your arrival. You go into the kitchen, set on eating the frozen meal you lost your appetite for the other night. 

You peel back the corner on the tray and shove it in the microwave. As you shut the door, you nearly wince at the unexpected figure in the doorway. You don't know if you're really surprised or if Andy has you jumpy. Both. 

"Want some coffee?" You offer your grandmother, hoping to appease her. "Tea?" 

She grumbles and waves you off, shuffling across the tile in her slippers. She crosses her arms and her lip sticks out, "nice of that man to come all the way down here like that." 

You turn your attention back to the countdown and shrug, "yeah." 

"He didn't need to just for all that. For you, did he?" She prompts. Her interest both irks and worries you. She never cared about anything. "And after losing his family." 

"Right, yeah, it's tough," you twiddle your fingers at your side. 

"Don't sound so heartbroken," she scoffs, "Christ, wasn't that boy you're friend?" 

You face her as the microwave beeps, "grandma..." you can't tell her. If she even bothered to listen, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even know Andy and she's already taking his side. Typical. "Yeah, I'm sad. Guess I'm a bit in shock." 

You turn back and take the too hot tray out, holding back a hiss at the singe in your fingertips. You spin and cross the kitchen to grab a fork. Your grandma huffs and putters after you.  

"He sent them flowers," she says. 

You stir the noodles and cheese, "he did." 

"Fancy. Expensive." 

You don't really get why she's still harping on. She didn't put so much mind to your prom or graduation or even when you got your job. Yet you can't be surprised where she's strayed; she's always been on you about money.  

"Seems to me he's a bit lost," she says, "you're..." she weighs her words before she speaks, something she rarely does, "maybe he's tryna find some direction. He might... might wanna take care of ya." 

"Huh?" You make a face and glance at her from the corner of you eye. 

"Like, I dunno, I watch those talk shows, grief is something nasty. I would know," she goes on. You can't remember the last time you heard her talk so much. "He only got-- had the one kid. You're about the same age... maybe he's tryna, I dunno, replace what he lost." 

You nearly laugh in her face. Really? This is what she cares about? You stare at her and furrow your nose. You could tell her. You could try. She's listening. For once.  

"I don't think... it's not... I'm not his responsibility and I don't wanna be." 

"You're barely your own responsibility," she sneers, "can't see a good thing in front of you." 

"Grandma--" 

"Well? Pretty sure there's more where those flowers came from," he tuts, "you got a few hard lessons to learn, girlie. 

You look down at the macaroni. You're not hungry anymore. You grab the tray and walk away. 

"Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda tried to teach me some, huh?" You toss over your shoulder and stomp out of the kitchen. 

You go into your room and kick your door shut. How is he doing this? How is everyone, even a woman who hasn't lived in reality for twenty years, on his side? 

You put the tray and fork down and go to the other side of the bed. You sit facing the window and drop your head into your hands. The only person you have is too far away. Besides, you don't want to drag her into this. Not any more than you already have. 

🎮

For once, you’re anxious to get to work. You welcome the distraction from everything else; debt, grandma, and the biggest problem of all, the one you won’t even name. You stroll up to the ice cream booth as Luis stands outside the window, chatting to Jessie as she stands at her vigil inside. You frown. You don’t see the manager often. Only when he hired you. 

“Ah, there she is,” Luis spots you and waves you over, “right on time.” 

As he checks his watch you pull out your phone. You’re early, like always. His presence is more than a coincidence. You have this ripply feeling in your stomach. You black your phone and cross your arms, hiding it under your elbow. 

“Hi, how’s everything going?” You ask as you approach the kiosk. 

“Everything’s great,” Luis smirks, “sunshine’s out, customers too.” 

You glance around. The picnic tables are mostly full. It is the perfect weather for a scoop. 

“Yeah, gonna be a busy shift,” you pander with a smile. 

“Hey,” Luis wags his finger as if remembering something, “before you start, let’s have a chat.” 

“Oh, alright,” you agree. 

He waves you away from the window as more customers approach. You follow him to one of the tables. You wait for him to sit before you do the same. He looks around from behind his black lenses and tilts to reach into his back pocket. He slides out his phone and brings it forward to cradle in both hands. 

“So uh, how are you liking it? The work?” He asks. 

You’re uneasy. You stare at his cell then look him in the face. 

“It’s good. Steady,” you answer as you keep your own phone in your lap. 

“Mhmm,” he hums and once more glances around, “look, this is never easy but I got a complaint--” 

You blink slowly. You’re not surprised. You figured it would happen. Still, you thought maybe Andy might be above that. Or anything at all. 

“Obviously, I take these things seriously. This business is all about customer service, especially with the Dairy Queen down the block,” he explains, “but I do try to give the benefit of the doubt. I checked the cameras.” He pauses for effect as you shrink down, “you closed the window.” 

You sigh and heave out a breath, “I did.” 

“You know we don’t do that,” he reprimands. 

“Sir, I know but... the customer... he wasn’t a customer. He’s... bothering me.” 

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and scratches his neck, “oh? Didn’t look like that type. When I spoke to him, he didn’t even seem upset. He just asked me to check in, really, but it’s not his shop. He don’t gotta worry about the bottom line. I do.” 

“It won’t happen again,” you wisp out. 

“I know it won’t,” he says. 

You sit, waiting for him to continue. He just stares at you. You shake your head. No. 

“Sorry, I gotta let you go.” 

“What? It’s my first complaint--” 

“This is an ice cream shop, how many of those do you think we get? Not very hard to keep the people happy so if you’re getting unhappy customers, well, that’s all I need to know.” 

“Please, Luis, I need this job--” 

“Shouldn’t have closed the window. I’m sorry. That’s the one rule.’ 

“God, I--” you huff and snarl, “whatever. Fine.” You stand and untie your apron, “get your bottom line.” 

You toss the apron on the table and swipe up your bag. You turn without waiting for another empty apology. Fuck. It’s shitty but hey, there’s always the DQ and now you have experience, right? 

🎮

You fill out an application for the Dairy Queen and a few other places. Your job hunt has been chronic as it is. It’s only that your search for a second gig, is now back to square one. You have only your last check coming to you before you’re digging into your meagre savings; the money meant for tuition. 

Your grandma is back to living in her novels. Good. You didn’t realise until before how much you preferred it. 

As you close yourself in your room, your phone vibrates. You look down at the message. It’s him. He’s been messaging, still thinking he might talk you into it. He is a lawyer but this isn’t his court. This is your life. 

How pathetic. A grown man meddling in the affairs of a nineteen-year-old. If you could let go of the catfishing, everything else has assured you of his character. You flop onto your bed and swipe away his texts. 

You wallow there for a while. In self-pity, in futility, in listlessness. You don’t know what to do. Everything is at a standstill. You have no job, you don’t know if you can pay for next semester, let alone the year, and you’re stuck in this deadbeat town. 

You put on a video to try to drown out the incessant anxiety. Today, you’re just going to let yourself sink. You can deal with everything tomorrow. You close your eyes and yawn, drifting into a haze that makes your head fuzzy. 

You’re roused by another vibe of your phone. You ignore it. He’s not going to get an answer. He can keep skirting around your blocks but you’re not wasting your energy. You’ve told him enough times to leave you alone. He has to get bored eventually. 

You roll over and bury your head in the pillow. You hear your grandma clunking around in the kitchen. You hate this place. You hate your life. The more you think about it, you can’t deny how horrible it really is, especially in the shadow of your dwindling future. 

What did you do to deserve this? You’re a good person. At least, you’ve always tried to be. It feels like a lot of karma for that Twizzler you stole when you were eight. 

Your grandmother keeps up the racket and your phone keeps on buzzing. You flip over and sit up. You snatch up the phone and stop yourself from flicking your thumb sideways. It isn’t him. It’s Kara. You never did call her back. 

You answer and put her on speaker, “hey, sup?”  

“Hey,” her voice is shaky, “uh, I don’t know.” 

“What?” You sit up straighter, “is everything--” your voice trails off as you listen to the commotion on her end; chatter you can’t make out, movement obscured through the speaker, “what do you mean you don’t know?” 

“The cops are here,” she murmurs, “I don’t know. They just showed up. Said they got a call from the landlord or something. Cause it’s the property owner, they can just come in or whatever. I don’t know, I don’t know...” Her voice quivers with panic, “me and Calvin were just hanging out...” 

“That’s... why would they--” 

“Shoot, I think...” she lowers her voice, “they must’ve found his stash. Shit, shit.” 

“Kara?” Your heart races as you try to keep track of what’s going. 

“Miss, can you please hang up the call? We need to question you,” a deep voice interjects. 

“One second, I’m just on the phone with--” 

“Miss, hang up or you’ll be charged with obstruction.” 

The line cuts and you gape at your phone. What the hell? You try to dial back, the call rolls through but doesn’t pick up. You try again and again. You get out of bed and pace, texting Kara helplessly. Shit, shit! How is this happening? Over what? A tiny dime bag? Everyone smokes, not that you’re the biggest fan. Too smelly for you. 

You put your hand to your forehead. What do you do? You can probably get a bus ticket. Even if you get to her, the bond is going to be way more than you can afford. You doubt you’ll even be able to scrape it together.  

Do you call her parents? No, they’d kill her, then she’d kill you. 

You shake as your legs turn to jello. You sit back down and close your eyes. Holy crap, this can’t be real.  

Your phone vibrates. It doesn’t stop. You look down at the incoming call. Unknown Caller. You’re not stupid. You know it’s him and his timing assures you he had something to do with this. This isn’t a coincidence. Those don’t exist. If there was any sort of luck in this world, you would have found some by now. 

“What?” You put the phone to your ear and snarl. 

“I can help your friend,” he says. 

You’re silent. You want to scream at him. You want to swear at him. You want to call him every nasty word you can. But this isn’t about you, not just you. You brought Kara into this mess, even if you never meant to. You won’t let her pay for your stupidity. 

“Meet me at Oxford and Maris. There’s a restaurant--” 

“Fine,” you snip and hang up. 

You lower your phone and shudder. He won. Given his career, he must be used to that. 

[berry-potchy]

I went through my drafts and found this. I typed this during a moment of weakness for cliche chick flicks and fuckboy Miguel:

This is not edited and messy but I just wanted to share that I'm thinking about a very typical and silly high school coming of age romance setting with the popular broody bad boy x wallflower good girl except that Miguel is already so down bad for (obsessed with) good girl who btw is chubby and cute.

What's on my mind rn is kid Miguel and kid reader were childhood best friends/sweethearts. You were neighbors and your families were close. One day, for some reason you had to move away. This was maybe when you and Miguel were like 7. You were inconsolable during moving day and Miguel's poor little heart broke at the sight. He confessed to you then and asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes and you kissed him on the cheek and you guys hugged until your parents had to pry you off each other so you can leave. Your parents felt really bad that they had to separate you from your best friend and what they thought was pretend boyfriend but the move was a canon event.

You weren't able to keep in touch, you weren't able to make many friends in your new place either. Like you had friends but they kinda have their own separate friend groups that you're not a part of. You were kinda just there, mourning your loneliness. Growing up you always had that ugly feeling of missing out and the "what if I didn't move back then?" in the back of your head. But one day, you're already like what? Last year in high school? You get a notif on your IG that a Miguel liked a photo you posted from a few months prior (it's a rare photo of you wearing something that shows off of your curves and feeling it). It's odd. You've posted a lot more photos since then. You check the profile and it's your Miguel... but he grew up HOT. Tall, wide, jacked, but it's the same Miguel with the pretty brown eyes and dark loose curls that he now styles slicked back. You follow him thinking he won't notice because of all the pretty girls who comment on his pics but never get replied to. But he followed you back immediately and sent you a 'hey' on DM. You didn't know what to say at all so you just stared at it until he replied ':/' followed by 'see you soon. you better have something to say to me by then.'

Later that day your parents drop the bomb that you're moving back to your childhood home. Next to Miguel.

Not to get into too much plot I just really wanna think about Miguel welcoming back his girlfriend and wanting to make up for lost time which gets you super flustered by his advances and shamelessness. You can't quite tell if he's just teasing you about the girlfriend part but the flirting definitely feels for real.

Your parents telling you to keep the door open when he goes up your room to hang out and you get embarrassed, stuttering that you're not planning on doing anything sexual. Miguel however shrugs and goes "I wouldn't trust me in a room with you either. I would eat you up"

And during lunch at school you cant find a seat, you try to look for Miguel but the scary popular kids are flocking around him. He looks like he's so bored but perks up when he sees you walk by and grabs your wrist to make you sit with them. Some random girl mockingly goes "oh sorry there's no space for you here" and you feel humiliated. Miguel shuts her up with a glare and makes you sit on his lap. No one dares to speak up as he tries to feed you with the snacks from his tray. He's squeezing your thighs enjoying the feel of you on his lap while he goes "I remember you liking this (insert snack or boxed drink here) so I got you an extra one, chula"

There's really nothing else to this I just thought it was cute and had to share.

[becsabillion4]

take it out on me (carmen berzatto x reader)

so this is my first time posting a fic of mine on tumblr since i was 14 and i'm slightly terrified by the formatting but i posted this on ao3 yesterday and someone told me to post here too (<3) so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy the thought of getting pounded by carmy in the walk-in

pairing : carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary : Carmy is having a terrible service, and you're sure some time in the walk-in will help him cool off (although it gets hotter in there than you might think).

word count : 4,410

tags: SMUT, rough sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, choking, semi-public sex, ending with soft carmy which makes it all okay, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and also this is NOT an advert for safe sex, it is merely a fantasy i have been playing with since my own days as a waitress and carmy has helped me to realise it. also i'm obsessed and i know y'all degenerates won't send help so instead i ask that you send me asks so i can write more about this wonderful man

Disorienting. Overwhelming. Stressful, painful, unrelenting. Burning your hand hard enough for it to stick to the pan, hard enough that you know on the way to the sink it’s too late, that you’ll bear the scar of that mistake for the rest of your life. Knives slicing always so close to your skin, living on the point of pain, focus trained so hard on the blade you can’t even blink. Shouting, screaming, the place could be on fire, and you wouldn’t look up from the art you’re creating. Flames licking at your apron. Beautiful.

Kitchens are the prison and the heart of a chef, and the one at The Bear is currently the pride and the bane of your life. Plating up your one billionth focaccia of the evening as Marcus rushes by holding a tray of cannolis aloft, you try to tune out Sydney shouting instructions to the new servers, trying to drill something, anything, into their panicked, under-developed skulls. 

But none of this worries you. What worries you is the ominous, creeping silence from the station to your right, where you know Carmy is cooking up not only the best food you’ve ever tasted, but an internal storm that is going to be unleashed any, second, now-

“Chefs! Where the fuck is my garnish? Tina, are you dead? ‘Cos you need to wake the fuck back up.”

Tina is already by Carmy’s side with the garnish, but the damage is done. She doesn’t bristle at his words, but shoots you a worried look as she slides by, murmuring, “Sorry, Chefs. Behind.”

Since you started working at The Bear six months back, you’ve witnessed a rare few Carmy outbursts, and you know everyone feels the same way when they happen. It’s like the moment you miss a step on familiar stairs, stomach lurching and fear sweeping through your body. Carmy is this kitchen, and his boiling point is the moment things tend to spin out of control. 

And yet, Tina’s reaction is everyone’s; disappointment in herself, instant forgiveness because she knows Carmy is doing everything he can for this team. Last week, after you and Sydney spent the evening getting wasted on her couch, she’d confessed to you how hard Carmy took his notorious opening night failure, and how he’s been struggling to make up for it since then. And it’s been working; his kindness, patience, and passion for elevating those around him have always outshone the occasional harsh word during service.

But this service is just bad. It’s been bad since 5AM, when you got here to take in the delivery and found out that the grapes needed for the welcome broth had somehow been left off of the order. It’s been bad since Marcus ruined three batches of cannolis in a row, and when Sydney tried to touch his shoulder and ask him what was going on, he stormed out. Since Sydney snapped at Richie for singing Taylor Swift badly during family. The hundred little underlying frissons of tension that normally dissipate as soon as service rolls around have congealed today, like oil in balsamic vinegar, rubbing together but refusing to meld into the team you know everyone can be.

And you know Carmy can feel it. His anger is a physical thing beside you, like standing next to a hot pan with too much oil in it and just waiting for it to start spitting at you. Knowing you have to keep stirring it anyway.

“Four top, two steak, one bucatini, one fish,” Sydney rattles off, and everyone responds “Yes, Chef!” a little too loud.

“Can I get some hands for this focaccia,” you shout through the din, pushing the two boards forward, but nobody responds. “Hands, please, get these off my station before I eat ‘em!” you call, trying to bring some levity to the atmosphere before-

“Hands, fuckin’ hands, Chefs, FUCK!” Carmy explodes, appearing by your side so suddenly you almost jump. His hands hover over the foccacia boards like he wants to adjust something on them, fix something, but you know as well as he does that they’re perfect already.

And of course, this just makes things worse.

Carmy properly looks up for the first time, straightening out of the “chef about to have an aneurysm over plating this fish” posture and into his “everyone here is about to get fucked” pose. “These are good to go, why are we not? Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. Go fuck yourselves-” one of the new waitresses approaches with trembling hands and Carmy pushes the boards at her, disgusted, almost taking them over the edge of the pass, “-all of you, what is the point of any of us being here if nothing is leaving the fucking kitchen!”

“Carm, it’s okay, they’re going out,” you can’t help cutting in, but you should know better than to try to soothe a wild animal. Carmy doesn’t say anything, turns back to plating up his fish, but his beautiful artist’s hands, which you often find yourself trying to draw in the margins of inventory checks, are shaking now. You’ve never seen him this bad. The whole kitchen waits on a knife edge. You glance up, watching the waitress leave with your focaccia, and have a brief but fervent desire to be her as the doors swing her out of this hellhole.

The fish is beautiful as Carmy puts the finishing touches to it. A server steps up to take it as other dishes for the same table coalesce at the front of stations, all elegant, all perfect, all more than worthy of the restaurant’s Michelin star.

Carmy is completely still. Staring. And you know it’s too late.

Plunging his fist down, he crushes the fish into sea-scented pulp. The shells of oysters, hand-selected, crack into broken-mirror shards; the sauce is peppered with shoddy scraps of lobster tail.

It’s still not enough for Carmy, as he picks up the plate and sends it spinning into the back wall, narrowly missing Sweeps’ head. “ Shit, ” Carmy mutters, turning back to his station and searching for more things to destroy. You watch him contemplate the knives, and you can’t stay out of it any longer.

“Carmy. Chef. Carmy,” you say as you reach out to grab his muscled arm, pulling him round to face you. You can feel the tension corded deep under his skin, see the sheen of sweat coating his tattoos. Normally, any skin contact with him sends your brain into overdrive, but you can’t afford to be anything but calm right now.

His eyes are wild, but you watch him steadily, and he watches you straight back. You’re not sure why, but the moment reminds you of how you felt on those rare occasions he invited you and Syd over to brainstorm new recipes in his cramped kitchen. Especially that time Sydney couldn’t make it, and you were midway through describing your idea for a yuzu-infused scallops course to him - “with maybe, like, a garnish of broccoli just absolutely smothered in hollandaise” - when he reached forward, tucked a scrap of hair behind your ear, and the very idea of food whisked straight out of your head - but you still felt hungry. And whilst he’d tried out your broccoli idea over and over again that night, you found yourself blushing every time he passed you a spoon to taste it. 

You never could get that dish right. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t separate the flavours from the curious look in his eyes, the way he drank in your ideas, absorbed them before he responded, how his eyes tracked every thought that crossed your face.

Now here you are again, staring at that measured, thoughtful man turned savage, and you wonder if you have the guts to do what you’ve been thinking about doing for a while.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you murmur beneath the clatter of plates behind you, just for him. You don’t look away even when you hear something shatter. You move your hand from his arm, up over his shoulder, push your palm into the curve of his neck and hold it there. 

Then you wait, feel his shoulders jumping up and down with his rapid breathing. Wait until he leans into it a little, chasing your solidity, and it’s all the response you need.

“Come with me.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Sydney, you got this?” You ask, never taking your eyes from Carmy’s face, worried that if you do, you’ll lose whatever grip you have on him right now.

“Yes, Chef,” she replies, and you feel her edge round the side of Carmy to put another fish on rapid fire. He catches her eye as she passes, and brings his hand up to his chest, rubbing it once in what has become the team’s official way to apologise during service. She responds in kind, and he lets you drag him off the station, past the others shooting him worried looks, straight into the walk-in.

You shut the door carefully, recalling the stories of Carmy’s previous imprisonment. It’s still securely closed, giving you both some calm and privacy to cool off.

Except cooling off is not really what you have in mind.

You turn to see Carmy slumped in the corner, curled in on himself and running his hands through his already-chaotic hair. He stands again suddenly, bracing his hands on the wall behind him as if to remind himself they exist.

“Carmy.”

“Yeah, shit. Sorry, I just need a second. It’s just, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was thinking about doing something with ceviche, but I couldn’t figure out what fish would work best, and then that sorta spiralled into a panic attack which kept me up whisking eggs for something until three, and then-” You watch his eyes darting over the shelves around him as he talks, and you realise he’s taking stock of what’s there. Even during a full-blown meltdown, he cannot stop working, stop thinking. He starts pacing.

“Carmy,” you say again as you try to catch his eye. He’s staring at some spare T-bones like they’ll explain to him whatever dish he was whisking eggs for last night. Fuck it. You grab his chin, tilt it until he has to look at you.

“D’you know the best way to calm down?”

“Lock yourself in the walk-in for three hours?” He’s trying to relieve some tension, but you have other ideas on how to handle that.

“Sex, Carmy.”

There. You’re terrified that you finally acknowledged it, finally confessed to what you’ve been thinking about for months, but thank God it’s out in the open. You’ve been blushing at his compliments on your food for far too long, ignoring how good he looks in a white tee for even longer. And today has been such a shitshow it can’t possibly get any worse by admitting to this too.

You wait for Carmy to shut it down, laugh it off, maybe even fire you, but he just looks shellshocked. Then again, that is his default look.

“I, um…” He rubs a hand over his forehead, glances up at you almost shyly. “I mean, um. What?”

“Listen, you’re fucking up service. You’re distracted, tired, stressed beyond belief. I want to help you, and I won’t pretend it’s just out of the goodness of my own heart. I’ve been interested in you for a while, Carmy. You can take that or leave it or kick me out of this walk-in if you want, but I’m here. I want to help you work through things, through all this anger. And…I want you to know you can take it out on me. And maybe even feel better at the same time.”

Carmy is flushed, and you’re all out of words. You kind of wish he was still looking at the T-bones.

“We, uh, we can’t.” Carmy leans back on a freezer for support, crossing his arms in a pose you normally associate with him working something out in his head, deciding what a dish is missing or what it needs to take it up a notch. “I mean, not now. Not here, at least. And I don’t know, we work together. I’m your boss. It’s not a good idea.” He reaches a hand round to his back, starts massaging the strain away there. It’s an especially effective position as he doesn’t have to look at you as he does it, as he says, “Sorry.”

You shrug a little, smile. Try to pretend it doesn’t hurt. Keep it professional, or as professional as you can get in a kitchen. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Get some sleep, Chef.”

You turn to go, hoping that stirring and slicing and plating up will shake off the embarrassment currently burning through to your bones.

But you don’t live to regret the offer as Carmy grabs your arm, spins you and shoves you hard enough into the walk-in door that it rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, everything okay in there Chefs?” you hear Marcus call, and it’s a reality check you absolutely don’t want right now. Carmy doesn’t even seem to have heard him, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, shoulder as your body arches into the feeling. You’ve had one too many fantasies about this walk-in since you started, but the actual feeling doesn’t begin to touch the dream.

“Yeah, all good Chef!” You manage to reply, but you barely get the ‘Chef’ out before Carmy’s lips slide over yours, pushing, demanding entry as his body keeps you pressed up against the door. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, is all you have time to think between kisses.

There is no room or time for playing around. Carmy needs this, and you intend to provide, but you’re damn sure getting everything you can out of it just in case it never happens again. One of your hands curls deep into his hair, pulling his head back as your teeth click together in the ferocity of the kiss. You swear you can taste blood, but neither one of you pulls back, the saltiness only urging you on. Your other hand is busy loosening his belt, and you tug it hard to pull the silver prong free of the leather, hard enough that his hips jerk forward into yours and you moan, long and low.

Gravity suddenly spins on its axis as Carmy lifts you, turns and drops you down onto the freezer Fak installed last week. And for once in your life, thank you, Fak. The movement seems to shake Carmy out of it for a second, and he pulls back, hesitates. A hand curves around your cheek, and you can feel an apology coming, see the reticence forming in his eyes. And honestly, fuck that.

You hook fingers through his belt loops, dragging him closer and then using them to tug his trousers down. You’re not gentle as you reach into his underwear, wrap a hand around his cock, and you can tell that’s what he needs as he hisses, his head drifting back.

Removing his hand from your cheek, you guide it slowly down to your neck. His head snaps up, and there’s a darkness, a need, that wasn’t there before as you move your hand slowly, torturously, down his length.

“Hey,” you whisper, reluctant to interrupt the low grunts spilling from him with each of your movements. “I’m not going to break.”

You squeeze his fingers around your throat a little tighter, and it’s this that has him surging forward, messy mouths pressing together again and everything condensing into a rippling, burning, rightness as the fingers of his other hand shove themselves between your legs.

He lingers there for a moment, breaths short and sharp in your ear as he breaks free from your kiss and whispers, “If we had more time, I would clean up the mess you’re making all over my freezer, Chef.”

“My apologies, Chef,” you pant, the sweetness of the apology marred slightly by your fingers tugging hard through his curls. Then you’re pushing up his white shirt at the back, reveling in the heat of him, the muscles straining under your touch. “What’s my punishment?”

Carmy hesitates, then withdraws his fingers from you slowly, and it feels like the calm before the storm. One hand is still pressed loosely around your neck as he brings the other up to your face, runs the edge of his still-wet fingers over your lips. Asking or demanding, you don’t know, but you’re happy to comply. His pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the blue behind them, and when you slide your mouth over his fingers, taste yourself on him, he closes them in momentary bliss. And it’s so beautiful to see that you can’t resist pulling him in to share.

A Michelin-star chef with one of the most sophisticated palates on the planet. A renowned food critic once wrote of him, “In my next life, I’d like to be just one of the taste buds in Carmen Berzatto’s mouth.” And here he is, savouring you, tongue searching out every corner of your mouth as if he wants to figure out each and every component of your taste. Add the recipe of you to his menu, and make it every night.

You’re both done waiting, and the clock is ticking. You can faintly hear Sydney calling orders through the wall, although she sounds steadier now. You don’t know whether anyone out there knows what you’re doing, but a rampaging elephant couldn’t stop Sydney when she’s on a roll.

Carmy pulls you closer to the freezer’s edge, jeans and underwear falling to his ankles and suddenly he is right there, and-

“Oh, fuck,” is all you can say as he pushes forward in one swift, animal movement. And oh, pain flickers down your spine as he slides almost free of you and thrusts back, relentless, and this is exactly what you signed up for.

“ Fuck ,” he echoes, hand sliding down your neck to settle over your racing heart. “Fuck, you…I don’t know how you do this to me,” he pants, and you try to keep your moaning down so you can hear as words spill from him, “When you come in with your hair down before a shift, when you - ah - when you borrow my knife and I see you using it all service, when you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. Shit. You drive me crazy on purpose, and you wanna know what the worst part is?”

You can’t breathe, let alone answer him.

“The worst part is I eat that shit up every time, ” he snarls, punctuating every word with a short, sharp thrust.

This is the animal you saw tonight, spitting curses, destroying his own food, all sharp edges and uncompromising will. Grunting as he bottoms out inside you, fingers clenched around your upper thigh hard enough to bruise, littering bites over your neck as if your colleagues aren’t an unlocked door away.

But the animal isn’t the end of Carmen Berzatto. There is more to him than the bear, and you intend to remind him of that before you’re through.

“Look around you,” you pant as he thrusts again, harder, sweeter, and you have to get this out before you tip over the edge. So you risk bringing the hand you were using to support yourself forward to turn his chin towards the walk-in’s walls, to beyond them, to the restaurant hard at work and the satisfied diners metres away who have no idea what’s going on in here, and fuck if that doesn’t make it all the more delicious. “Look what you made. Look who you are.” You watch his flushed face, hope he understands the praise, but you can’t hold on anymore to see your words land.

“You’re fuckin’ unbelievable, Carmy,” is all you manage to choke out as every muscle in your body lights up, tenses and releases in a flood so strong you wonder if you’ll ever surface, and if you even want to.

Carmy fucks forward into you twice more, and his head drops onto your shoulder as he groans, shudders, relaxes fully for what may be the first time in his life.

You stroke a hand over his head, pull him closer. You’re not quite sure when this stopped being a no-holds-barred quickie and became a quiet, intense embrace, but it feels right. All the desperation, the keyed-up energy, is gone from him. And if he never wants anything more than that, even though the idea is more than a little disappointing, you can take consolation from the fact that you at least managed to stop a raging Carmy in his tracks.

Although it is a little quiet.

“Carmy?” You ask, hesitant to break the silence. Thankfully, it still sounds like it’s all bustle outside. You wonder how long you’ve been in here, and try not to think about how you’re going to emerge with any shred of dignity intact.

Carmy pulls back, and you can’t define the look on his face, but it worries you. His eyes shine slightly, and his gaze skips across your face, down your body, not holding your stare.

“Are you okay?” You ask, praying this isn’t about to get really awkward really quick. The man’s still inside you, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah. I, um, I should be asking you that.” Carmy’s hands skim down your sides, fingers pressing in randomly as if to check for bruises. He tilts his head to look under your chin, as if to check he hasn’t caused any permanent damage to your neck. “Jesus. Are you alright? I’m sorry, that was rough.”

“I’m totally fine.” You don’t know what to do to reassure him, so opt for two big thumbs up. “See? Voice working and everything.”

Carmy chuckles unevenly, takes a careful step back, and you try not to consider how empty you feel and how cold and slippery the freezer now is underneath you. You hop off, catching yourself on the side when you realise just how shaky your legs are. When you glance up at Carmy, he’s just staring at you, which is, frankly, unnerving.

“Do I look that bad?” you ask, pulling your hair out of what’s left of a ponytail to start again.

“No. No, I’m just…I’m just taking you in.” The raw honesty in his eyes pins you in place for a moment. But of course, Richie shouts “ Cousin!” before you can read into it too much.

There is a moment of panicked dressing and clean-up, a nod to each other to confirm you both look relatively sane and not totally fucked (even though you doubt it), and then a collective deep breath as you push open the door of the walk-in.

You don’t catch anyone’s eye for a second as you head to your station, Carmy’s presence like an open flame behind you.

“Corner. Corner. Behind, sorry Chefs,” you call as you slide back into place. Two quick glances calm you; one at the clock - seventeen minutes - and one at Sydney, who doesn’t look like she’s about to throw up and only has three tickets in front of her. You spare a final one for Fak in his position by the door, who you are positive would be grinning gleefully if he, or anyone else in the kitchen, knew what just went down in the walk-in.

“What do you need, Syd?” you ask, picking up the familiar back-and-forth of the kitchen again with some relief.

Carmy is quiet, focused, for the last half hour of service, but you can’t keep your mind clear. As soon as last orders are sent out, you slink to the back for a cigarette, hoping the smoke will at least wipe out your brain fog. It does the exact opposite. When you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. You exhale, waving the smoke away as the words churn through your brain. I eat that shit up every time.

“Hey,” you hear, and you’re almost thankful to speak to the real him just to distract yourself from thinking about earlier.

“Hey.” You offer him a smoke, and he takes it, sinking onto the step next to you. The brush of his leg against yours is a lot more comforting than you expect it to be, relaxing a secretly worried part of you.

He takes a long drag, the kind of drag you only take when it’s been a shitshow of a day. “I just want to say I’m-”

“Sorry? It’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again,” you finish for him. It hurts less that way.

“What? No.” He looks at you until you reluctantly meet his gaze. “Not for that. I’m not sorry about that.” He lets that hang there for a second, holds your eye. “But I’m sorry for losing my shit earlier. Nobody deserves to be around that, and…I want you to know I’m working on it. I wanna be…I wanna be good at this.” It’s a stilted apology as he thinks through every line, and it feels all the more sincere for it.

“That’s okay. I know. We all know.” You reach a hand out to touch his arm, and after a second, he lowers his head to rest on his knee, although his face is still turned towards you. You see his eyes flicker from your hand on his arm to your face.

“Although that wasn’t exactly how I expected that to go by the way,” he says after a moment.

You don’t try to pretend you don’t know what he’s referring to. “What, in the walk-in?”

“Oh, no, I’ve thought about it in the walk-in.” You ignore a pulse of feeling at his casual confession, at the idea that he’s thought about you. “I just didn’t imagine it so…heated, I guess.” Carmy raises his head again, traces a finger along your hand where it rests on his arm until you shiver. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

You hesitate for a second before replying. Before extending the branch. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be other times, Chef.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and it’s your turn to watch his thoughts flickering there, watch as the fog clears, the idea forms, and he says, “Yeah. Next time.”

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wow guys thank you for reading i pray through the act of writing this that my jeremy allen white obsession will calm the fuck down, but i fear i've made it worse

if you'd like to keep up with me on ao3, you can find me here and please do send me any comments or feedback or prompt ideas, i would love to hear them <33 thank you!!

[aggro-my-beloved]

Angel Face → David Shaw x Reader Imagine

note: i can’t write a grumpy david shaw i’m sorry he’s like .03% tsundere in this re-imagined meet cute between him and angel and his anger isn’t even directed towards them. i’ll be leaving a poll at the end for which paring you’d like me to write for next in this scenario. please like and reblog as it’d really mean a lot!

pairing: david shaw x gn!reader

summary: solstice bar is packed tonight for an up-and-coming performance by a local band, and security guard david is left as a stand-in for the usual bartender. just when he thinks he’s at his wit’s end, a stranger in desperate need of conversation and something to soothe their nerves makes this shifter’s thursday a bit more tolerable.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, mild swearing, damn crew as frat bois and other shenanigans

wc: 2.1k

estimated reading time: 10.5 mins

“Welcome to Solstice!” 

At a certain point in the night, the patron’s slurred chattering morphs into white noise for David’s ears. While manning the bar, beckons and calls for another round are less distinguishable but still audible if he concentrates hard enough. 

“Kitchen’s closed!” 

“Soda or seltzer?” 

“Special is a…” he turns the still full bottle on the center of the bar to face him. “A Port Charlotte single malt whiskey. You in?” Seconds later, he heaves a mix between a grumble and a sigh. “Course not.” 

“I said the kitchen’s closed!” 

“Try saying it louder,” chortles Milo. His dark stature barrels through the swinging door leading to the kitchen, behind the bar. Amidst his rapid collecting of fingerprint-stamped brandy bowls and red-kissed crystal stems, his hand flies up to release his chestnut waves from the hairnet securing them. “Don’t think they heard you the seventeenth time.” 

“Remind me why I agreed to pick up a Thursday for Sam. I never work Thursdays.” David raises his voice the farther Milo retreats into the kitchen. The clinks of glasses tickle his ears but do little to nothing to ease his nerves. The cook returns with a pristine array of cocktail glasses sat on a black tray. If there’s anything David admires more than his colleague’s house-made wings, it’s how he can make the same dingy glasses sparkle night after night with a quick wash. 

“Because…” he sets down the tray carefully on the open bar space perpendicular to David, in between the ripened limes he prepped hours ago, and the beer taps. “Ash and his band finally wrote enough decent songs for a gig here and we agreed to be here tonight to support him.” What Milo didn’t know is that the extra tips made between David and Asher tonight were in contribution to the soot-covered kitchen drawers at their home–courtesy of the main act’s drummer insisting he fulfill his oatmeal craving. There wasn’t a chance in hell those two were getting the security deposit back, not if the cherry-oak wood soaked in gray and smelling of cinder and their landlord’s new vendetta had anything to say about it. The two shifters were already ripped a new one last week for their scratch marks on the recently renovated hardwood flooring, which they credited to “dog sitting for a friend.”

“And no more animals!” The unempowered and oblivious landlord scolds them, red in the face. 

“Yes sir.” They reply in unison.

Ash tries choking down a smug laugh and fails miserably. David smacks him on his chest. 

Milo grabs a handful of peanuts from a stray bowl set aside to be washed, and pops them in his mouth, savoring the salt dancing on his taste buds. “Also,” he makes out through munches, “Sam’s out tonight from sun poisoning.”

David scoffs at this. “So he says. Tank was flirting with him so much last night, I could hear them from my post at the front giving stamps.” The promises of what his younger sibling would do to the fanged creature behind closed doors cued David to shudder. Before disappearing behind the kitchen door once again, Milo quips:

“Better hearing it than smelling it.” David refuses to ask the cook to elaborate and instead shifts his attention to the front entrance, where drunken yells and chants resound. His lips curl down in a fierce scowl as the melded odor of sweat and liquor becomes six bodies more pungent. Like a cavalry, they march in with arms looped through one another’s to keep stable. If the young faces weren’t already a dead giveaway for what would be in store for David tonight, their tacky shirts did enough talking. Each one color-coordinated for a significance the man was too exhausted to mull over, but all reading: “Straight Outta D.A.M.N” in giant, bold font. 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me–Hey, Milo, were you just not gonna tell me it’s the E and E’s Annual Frat Bar Crawl tonight? Because that’s a pretty fucked up thing to do to a bartending security guard!” 

“What!” Milo’s accented shriek rings through the building, and he peeks his head out of the aluminum swing door to view the staggering group of drunkards for himself. “Ah, fuckin’ hell..” He fully steps out from behind the door and cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, hammered frat dudes!” A couple of heads from the group turn in his direction. “Yeah, you guys! Kitchen’s closed!” He turns to pat David on the back of his shoulder, over the white rag he’d been drying glasses and countertops with all night. “You got this, buddy.”

“Uh uh, I don’t think so.” The man shakes his head in disbelief, and a chorus of whines echo from the group of empowered frat members. One brave soul steps forward, the beefiest of them all. He dons a shamrock green shirt with the sleeves (poorly) cut off and a pleading set of eyes. His deep voice floats to the bar from where he stands, almost devastated. “Even for fries?” 

Milo is halfway through his strut back into the kitchen but is halted by David’s hand gripping his shoulder. “Even for fries, Milo?” The man cocks his head to the side, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout. They both knew why he was playing so coyly; resorting to the rarely used puppy dog eyes; mimicking the man’s tone from moments before. It was the same reason they consulted Asher’s band to play tonight. As much as either of them try to deny it, the bar needs the business. And if Sam’s claims during their Super Smash Bros tournament from weeks beforehand weren’t all talk, he’d hate to see what the vampire could do with just a walker and pure unbridled rage at tonight’s numbers. 

Through gritted teeth, the shorter of the two mutters something about putting his hairnet back on before continuing his journey to the clean fryers. 

“Come on in, people!” He waves a hesitant arm in his direction, encouraging the clan to venture further. The solemn whines morph into cheers as they proceed their march to the bar.  Though he was dreading it at first, the orders were easy enough. Bud Lite, Rum and Coke, two more Bud Lites, another Rum and Coke, and a Mojito. In addition to this, anungodly amount of fries, but that is for Milo to deal with. 

Halfway through the intoxicated army's orders, he spots a straggler trying to squeeze through the ever-growing crowd anticipating their next round and tonight’s show from the local, up-and-coming Howl’s Highway. Asher thinks the name is awesome. David thinks it’s one step closer to breaching covert to several unempowered beings who may be wandering into Dalia from out of town. They agree to disagree.

“Excuse me,” the voice croaks. “Sorry.” It pipes up every few seconds, complemented by the sight of shuffling bodies. Finally, a face pops up before him, splotched with red and with bloodshot eyes, but not from any addictive or bitter-tasting substance, other than heartbreak. David can sense their aura with the proximity. They are devastated, even more so than the student begging for a plate of fries. 

“Evening, Angel. What can I get for you?” The patron’s mouth falls open, and without intent, David does the same. He was never fond of pet names at the bar, rather he viewed it unprofessional as much as he did embarrassing. This is why Sam mans the bar, and he manhandles the bastards before they can order a drink. But no, tonight he needs to strip off the leather jacket and tough exterior and ask himself: what would Sam do? 

I can name someone. 

Milo, politely get the fuck out of my head and cook your goddamn–

“Uh…” The unempowered stranger gnaws on their bottom lip in thought. 

“Hey man, we weren’t through ordering!” His mouth retraces the snarl from earlier, and he apologetically directs his attention away from the distressed figure and to another fart member. The most inebriated and demanding of them all, if David had to guess from his words coming out like fondue. This one had a red shirt and an overall bad attitude. 

“Ah,” he holds a finger up, allowing the man to pause. “Let me take their order, and I’ll come back to you, okay?” He offers a thumbs up to the man, hoping this will mollify him. 

“No, not okay.” He crosses his arms, a newfound flame lit in his eyes. Oh great, just when I thought I was done putting out fires this week. Now the red shirt makes sense–fire elemental. “We were here first-“

He hopes for his friends’ sakes, he’s much more pleasant sober. 

“Dames,” Greenie butts into the argument. The one in red simmers down at the feeling of the large hand resting on the small of his back and drawing gentle circles. “It’s alright, he’ll only be a minute.”

“Y-yeah, maybe we can go find some uh–some good seats for the band tonight and come back?” A meek voice offers. He’s hidden behind the other members of the group, all that is visible of him is a pair of round frames and a flash of gray on his upper body. Similar to how they breached the entrance of the place, the squad links arms to continue their journey deeper into the crowd.

 

“God, those were some tacky shirts. Straight Outta DAMN? What does that even mean?” The newest customer shakes their head in disgust as they eye the backside of the frat disappearing into the sea of bodies. “Seems like you’ve got your work cut out for you tonight.” 

“Who, the Bud Lite bunch?” He waves a hand nonchalantly. “We get ten of those on nights like these.” 

“Well, I hope that was your tenth and final bunch of the night. I don’t do too well around rowdy people.” 

“So what brings you to one of the most packed bars in town tonight?” David quirks a brow at the stranger. 

“Well, the pictures online made it seem a lot less busy.” They rub the back of their neck with a sheepish smile coating their face. “I just needed to get away from…I got dumped tonight and wanted to drown my sorrows.” David tries not to be offended by how invisible they are to the public and the stranger’s acknowledgment of it. The bigger chains are killing them. More recently, they’re treading on the outskirts of Dalia and monopolizing over each empty plot of land they deem a cash cow.

“Your wish is my command. What’ll it be?” David crosses his arms, causing his muscular arms to bulge against the thin fabric of his white tee. Simultaneously, the hem of his shirt rides up to reveal a very tan, very toned v-line vulnerable to the wandering eyes of the one sitting before him. They try not to make it obvious. Menu, eyes, menu, abs, arms, back to menu. 

“Maybe an Espresso Martini?” They peer up to lock eyes with him again. Truthfully, they hadn’t read a description of any drink on the list and were taking a lucky guess. 

A few seconds of silence transpire before David responds firmly. “No.” They almost choke in disbelief, and their heart rate picks up.  

“Pardon?” 

“You need something stronger.” He decides, ultimately picking up a few bottles that the dejected newbie couldn’t decipher the labels of. Their eyebrows stay furrowed as David fills the cobbler shaker with a handful of ice cubes and a generous amount of liquor. 

“C’mon, trust me. What’s in here,” he shakes the stainless steel vigorously for emphasis, “ain’t gonna kill you.” 

“I think a hole-in-the-wall bar is the last place I should be told to trust  a stranger.” David considers this and hums. 

“I think the alley in the back of this place might take the cake.” Wiggling in the leather barstool from anticipation, their eyes stay concentrated on the clear glass as a slow strain of amber liquid occupies it. Before sliding it to their side of the bar, David is sure to garnish it with some orange zest.

“Go ahead, it’s on the house,” David smirks, before retreating to the kitchen to help Milo plate the heaps of fries. 

“For real? No, I have to owe something.” 

“It’s a new recipe. I wouldn’t even know what to charge you.” The man admits. “Go on,” he insists, prior to disappearing behind the swing door and being greeted with Milo’s sassy commentary on how David’s going to be working overtime to help him clean tonight. 

As the cook is balancing plates onto his arms, he hardly feels the burn of ceramic against his arms. For all his senses are concentrated on his new patron–more specifically, the sound of them sipping his innovation and a delightful hum leaving their lips. 

“Damn, that’s good.” 

He ponders shortly after, amidst delivering fries to the ravenous elemental crew, I think I’ll call it Angel Face.

＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊

[sweetfire01]

It's a little shorter than I planned, but it was in my draft for too long and I wanted to post it, so I cut it the end. You'll read more in the next chapter. 👀

Baby dove pt.3 (Daddy!Howl)

It took you a while to calm down. Calcifer retreated to the back of the fireplace and you were grateful for the silence. You didn't know if there was anything else you should know, but surely you didn't want to now. Apparently, the only option available was what the demon said: waiting for Howl to get tired and hoping that it happens soon. The ringing of the doorbell startled you and you jumped up in fear, only to breathe a sigh of relief when you saw Markl, alone. You cursed yourself for getting so anxious just from the ringing of a bell, but you still didn't feel like facing that guy. You composed yourself and welcomed Markl, helping him carry in the groceries. You only got a fleeting glimpse of the city starting to light up for the evening before the youngest closed the door behind him, unaware of your problems.

Howl originally told you that he was the only one allowed to cook since the demon didn't like being used by anyone other than him. At first, like everything that happened to you these days, you didn't think about it too much. Now you wonder if it wasn't actually some form of infantilization towards you: you're too young to know how to cook, you could burn or cut yourself… In fact, now that you thought about it longer, he had never let you cook, if not sometimes "helping him pass the ingredients". Not wanting to get angry for the umpteenth time that day, you looked at what you placed on the table: delicious-looking fruit and vegetables, an already gutted cod and a new bottle of oil. "Howl asked me to buy some fish." Markl said with a rather disgusted expression, taking a stool and approaching the table. "It was the last thing I took. I didn't want to keep that smelly thing around all the time." Moving it away from him, he grabbed the cutting board and a knife. He held a turnip in his hand for a few seconds before starting to cut it, still pouting. "I hope at least these cover the disgusting taste." You wondered if Howl saw you the same way you saw Markl. A sulking child complaining about food he doesn't like while standing on a stool because the table is too high for him. You thought that at least the wizard didn't have to see you so short. Then you remembered that this kid at least could go out freely and be more useful than you in the kitchen. You started looking for a knife to help him as you listened to him complain about how he didn't want to eat fish for dinner. The implications of this hit you. "Wait. We don't…have leftovers right?" "No, the soup for lunch is all gone. Unfortunately." Yeah. Unfortunately. Having no leftovers meant he would be back earlier than usual to cook. You had hoped that you would be able to go to bed and pretend to be asleep when he returned. Now you were hoping that he would have some accident and wouldn't be able to make it home for a few more hours. You started to open the cabinet after you only found spoons and forks in the cutlery tray. The castle was cleaner since you arrived, but still very messy. You spotted a cutlery handle sticking out from behind the pile of plates, only to realize it was another fork. "Hey Markl, where are all the knives?" It was your only chance to do something useful in the kitchen, you weren't going to waste it. "Aren't they in the cutlery tray? I got this from there." "No, not even in the drawers." "In the sink? Howl was cutting some herbs for potions when I left. Maybe he left onethere." You checked but, apart from a cup and a bowl, there was nothing else. You looked through the shelves above but couldn't spot a single one. It didn't help that they were higher than your head. You wouldn't ask Markl to lend you the stool. The library? Nothing. You huffed in annoyance. "They are not here." Oh, if this was one of his tricks… "Well, you know how he is, he always leaves things lying around. When he comes back we'll ask him. Is there anything else missing to set the table?" You took 3 glasses scattered around, placing them on one side of the still clear table.

Then you pulled 3 plates out of the cabinet… and saw it. Behind the pile was a knife sticking out of a cup. A butter knife, sure, but still a knife. You grabbed it and triumphantly returned to the table, next to him. There were still some vegetables and you got ready to cut a carrot. Too bad the knife didn't cut. It simply rubbed on its surface. You tried using more force but the blade wasn't sharp enough. "Um, isn't that a butter knife?" Markl must have noticed your struggle with that damn carrot. "Yeah, I'm trying to cut it anyway." You snorted. You were almost tempted to break it in half. With bare hands. The boy took on a confused expression "Do you know that the butter knife…is used to spread butter? Have you never used it?" Oh god. Not him too. Not him too who treats you like a fool. “I know what a butter knife is for, thanks.” You gritted your teeth as you brought your attention back to that orange thing. You started cutting - no, rubbing - that fucking knife on that fucking carrot again. "But-" "I can do it." You cut him off. He shook his head, sighing "Come on, pass it to me, I'll take care of it." "No." "C'mon-" "No. I'll do it." "Now I understand why Howl never lets you help us in the kitchen." "What?!" You dropped the knife on the table and the moment you turned to look at him, he stole your vegetable. "Yeah, you'd probably just screw up." He stuck his tongue out at you before quickly cutting it off. That little…Now you were really getting offended. "That's not true! I'm capable of helping, you know?" “Yes, cutting vegetables with a butter knife.” "It's not my fault, there weren't any others." "But you can't use that!" "I wanted to try!" "Sure, next time you'll try it with a fork?" "Stop teasing me!" "You're the one doing stupid things." "It is not true!" "Yes." "No!" “Shall we talk about when you went out the other day and got lost? "What?!" You honestly didn't expect him to bring that topic up. But you couldn't accept that a brat younger than you was still putting you down. "There were just a lot of people, that's all. And then I bet you'd get lost too. In fact, you'd end up crushed because of how short you are." Now it was your turn to stick your tongue out at him and tease him. "Actually I left before you and returned safely. Oh, and I didn't need anyone to take me home." Or maybe not. Dammit. Losing an argument to a child about you not being a stupid child. "Well, I…I…I didn't need Howl!" You slammed your palms on the table and Markl flinched at your outburst. He looked at you with wide eyes as you continued to squeal. "I don't need him or you! Nobody!" He continued to stare at you in fear, shaking his head, but you didn't care anymore. "I want to get out of here! I've had enough!" "And where would you go?" You froze, two large hands resting on your shoulders, pulling you towards his chest. Markl wasn't looking at you. Slowly raising your head, you met Howl's smiling face.

[zedif-y]

Inspired by this post by @transfemzedaph

i did attempt to not make this zedango. alas it is inevitable when it comes to my writing

---

"Would you look at that," Zedaph mutters, mostly to himself. (Herself? She's trying to stay in character here.) He turns his face this way and that, drinking in his reflection, all long lashes and rosy cheeks. He never did get a good look at it in his hurry. "Don't I look gorgeous."

Zedaph makes a mental note to thank Cleo after all this.

...Though, honestly, whoever's in charge of shining this tray should also really get a round of applause, Zedaph thinks. It's like a mirror.

Footsteps come up behind him, stopping at his side. Ah.

"So," Tango starts, "Grian's dead."

"Griande," Zedaph corrects.

"Right, sorry. Griande's dead."

"Shame."

Tango's lips quirk up, "Did you kill her?" Zedaph sighs.

"Unfortunately not."

Tango laughs, "I don't know what I expected."

"Neither do I," Zedaph mutters. He— ah, to hell with it. She pulls her lipstick out of her purse, "The others seem to have it handled, though."

Zedaph touches up the lipstick, pressing her lips together the way she's seen others do, smiling a little just to see the way it looks. Tango quiets at her side.

Then, "Hate to break character here, but Zed, you helping or what?"

Zedaph tsks, not bothering to turn from the mirror. "I don't know a Zed. My name is Rosamund, darling."

Tango rolls his eyes. At least, Zed assumes he did. Very Tango thing to do, that.

"Well, Rosamund," Tango— Mr. Waltz, tonight. Grian thinks he's funny— says. "There's a super interesting murder mystery going on right now, and you've been in front of this tray for," He checks his watch. It's golden, fancy, and laughably easy to break. "About 90 percent of it. Care to share with the class?"

Zedaph doesn't answer. Instead, she pulls back, tucks her red lipstick away into her purse. She squints her eyes, messing with her curls.

"Do you think this suits me?" Zedaph asks, her voice smaller. Quieter. Almost a whisper. "I mean— the getup. Makeup and dress and all that."

"It does," Tango replies easily, voice softer to match hers. Zedaph's not good with tone on a good day, but... "You look pretty."

Her heart does a thing. She doesn't know what, but it did a thing. Should get that checked.

Zedaph turns to face Tango— she needs to know if he's joking, red eyes alight with humor and a stupid grin on his face. Needs to know if by pretty he meant pretty silly, why would you even ask—

She looks, and then her thoughts falter and fade into oblivion.

Tango's looking at her, too, something warm in his gaze that makes Zed want to squirm or wipe off with a stupid comment. His cheeks are flushed pink.

It's piercing in the way Tango's gaze always is, slightly intense and burning right through her. Zedaph thought she had gotten used to it, and she has, mostly.

But right now it's kind of disconcerting.

(...Or, it's kind of nice.)

(Who said that.)

"I might be a girl," Zedaph says, instead of literally any of that. Tango blinks. "Tonight has been pretty eye-opening."

Zedaph frowns, "Except for Griande, I guess."

That startles a laugh out of Tango. "That's messed up!"

"She's fake dead, it's fine!"

"She'll make you real dead if you aren't careful," Tango tells her. "But— yeah? You think so?"

Zedaph shrugs, "I've been wondering about it for a while. This just hammered it in."

"Well, congrats," Tango nudges her with his side, grinning as he looks back at their reflections, seeing them side by side. "And welcome to the club, uh...?"

Something blossoms in Zedaph's chest, happy and tingly as she leans against Tango.

"Still Zedaph," she says. "And... He or she works. I think."

Then, only loud enough for the two of them, "Thanks, Tango."

[plumadot]

ok here it is! cleo fic with formatting yay!! -🍳

>You are a traveller. 

>Your footprints stain the path behind you, imprints in the slick mud. Rain is lazily pouring down from mushy clouds, and the sky does little to light your way. 

>You wish that your hometown was closer, but alas, it’s still a day’s walk away. You won’t make it with this rain, so the smarter choice would be to look for shelter. Somewhere warm and well-lit.

> Also dry, you think, as a cold raindrop meanders down your back. 

>Thankfully, you can see small lights in the distance. A glistening town lies in front of you.

>You walk faster.

~~~~~~~~~

>Within the town, it’s easier to hide from the rain that tormented your journey. Lamp posts give the air a soft glow as your search for some place to hide away for a while. 

>The first sign you see reads “The Crastle”. It connects to a small yet lively tavern that smells of ale and cider. It seems safe enough (a quick glance assures you of no shadowy figures or incapacitated drinkers), so you enter. 

>Instantly the warmth of a fire and closely packed bodies floods over you. You let out a sigh of relief, shrugging off your wet coat onto a nearby coat rack.

>You approach the bar and find an empty stool. The bartender and another patron are talking, and you decide to let them finish before interrupting.

>The bartender’s hair drapes over her face, so you can’t see what she’s whispering to the man with a green cloak (is it…fuzzy?). He fidgets with a few small blue flowers before placing them gently in her fiery locks. When he’s done, she musses his hair (which produces a sound close to a squawk) before turning to you.

>Cleo: Welcome to the Crastle! Name’s Cleo, how can I help you?

>You: Uh, I can get something to eat? Preferably warm.

>Cleo: Storm got to you?

>You nod.

>You: Yeah, it came in while I was traveling. I’m soaked to the core.

>Cleo: Of course, of course! Let me find something for you in the kitchen.

>You: Thanks.

>They turns around to get your food, and that’s when you notice their sleeves-or rather lack of them. 

>What you had originally taken for long, detached sleeves is actually…skin. Almost purple in tint, but skin nonetheless. You didn’t notice at first, but now it sticks out like a sore thumb. Painfully obvious.

>The stitches holding her bicep together stretch as they balance a tray skillfully. They hand the first bowl to a masked man (who accepts with careful hands and a small nod) before they hand the second to you. 

>Cleo: House stew, hot off the stove!

>You take the bowl off her hands, look up to thank her, and notice that her eyes have no whites.

>You: Th…thank you.

>Cleo: ‘Course! 

>Cleo: …

>Cleo: Do I have something on my face?

>You say nothing. CLEO turns to the same cloaked man from earlier. 

>Cleo: BDubs, do I have something on my face?

>The man scrunches his nose up in concentration.

>Bdubs: Uh, you have eyes, a nose, eyebrows, lips? What am I looking for?

>Cleo: Something out of place! Like a food smudge or bloodstain.

>BDUBS squints his eyes.

>Bdubs: Nothing out of the ordinary, but…

>He turns to look at you, then back at CLEO. You, then CLEO, a few times. 

>Bdubs: Your stitches. And eyes. 

>Cleo: Oh, my stitches! No wonder.

>They turns to you.

>Cleo: I’m undead! Technically a Hollow One, but most people just say undead. The stitches are normal, and so are the eyes, don’t worry.

>You: Oh. Sorry for staring.

>Cleo: Nah, you’re good! All newcomers stare a bit. 

>You: And thank you for the stew. 

>Cleo: Of course, of course! I’ll be back to my duties, but holler if you need me!

>You nod, and CLEO walks off to assist another customer. 

~~~~~~~~~

>Throughout the evening and into the night, CLEO tends to customers, embroidered robes swishing around her knees as she walks.

>BDUBS, apparently the other worker for the tavern, waits tables during the dinner rush. You notice that the flowers on every table are visibly brighter each time he passes by.

>Everything about this tavern is a little strange. The fire burns in pastel colors, the food tastes like memories, and the singer on stage has a chair that looks like…a spider. He notices your lingering gaze and waves. You wave back.

>But it’s nice. No one seems to care about the state of their clothes or the shape of their ears. They just want to drink some beer, eat some food, have a good time. 

>You have seconds, then thirds of the stew. CLEO smiles each time you ask for another.

>Cleo: I’m glad you like it! Etho brought the recipe back from one of his quests. Isn’t that right Etho? 

>The masked man (presumably ETHO) nods.  

>You: Well, it’s really good. Thank you.

>ETHO nods again, and you think you see a flush of pink behind the mask. Seeing the stoic man blush with compliments was quite satisfying. You should try giving them out more often.

>The comfy atmosphere in the tavern, combined with the mixture of stew and ale settling in your stomach, makes you sleepy. Eventually you ask to rent a room from CLEO, give them pay for the night and for the food, and head to bed. You’re asleep the moment your head hits the pillow.

~~~~~~~~~

>Soft sunlight filters through the closed shutters as your eyes flutter open. You prop yourself up to a sitting position and yawn. That was the best sleep you had gotten since you started your journey. Even still, the warm blankets tempted you back to the land of dreams. But you are a traveler, and your journey is not over.

>When you head back to the bar, CLEO is still there, exactly where you left them last night. Now they’re cleaning dishes, plates and bowls and silverware that pile up on both sides of them. 

>Cleo: Hey you! Looks like you’re up bright and early. Heading back on the road?

>You: Yeah, I still have a day’s walk ahead of me. Do you serve breakfast here?

> She smirks and hands you a bowl of…stew. 

>Cleo: If you don’t mind leftovers. 

>You’re too hungry to care, digging into the cold stew almost immediately. CLEO laughs.

>Cleo: Ha! I guess you don’t! 

>She continues to laugh, and then you’re trying not to laugh with her, which is unsuccessful and only results in you spitting out a mouthful of stew, which magically transforms her laughs into guffaws, and then you’re laughing so hard you have to put down the bowl and clutch your sides. Somewhere in between, a sleepy BDUBS shuffles in.

>Bdubs: What in the WORLD is going on here??

>Cleo: I finally found someone who likes cold scraps as much as Etho, if you can believe it!

>Bdubs: Well, you interrupted my schreep. Apologize.

>CLEO rolls her eyes overdramatically, but her laughing smile never leaves her face.

>Cleo: I’m sorry I interrupted your beauty sleep, princess. Will you ever forgive me? 

>BDUBS slouches onto CLEO’s shoulder.

>Bdubs: Only if we can take a nap later. With Etho, because he makes a better pillow than you.

>Cleo: Deal. 

>CLEO ruffles BDUBS' hair as he wraps his arms lazily around their neck. It’s sweet and intimate in the way close friends usually are around each other, and you can’t help but feel like you’re intruding on some morning ritual of theirs (not that they seem to mind). You eat faster to make up for it, then walk back to your room to start packing while CLEO and Bdubs continue their embrace. 

~~~~~~~~~

>You leave the Crastle with a heavy bag but a light coin purse. You can’t find it in you to regret it though, because the experience was far better than any musty hostel room you’ve been to. It felt like an actual rest, and not a waiting place where you anxiously waited to begin your journey again.

>You hope to see CLEO and BDUBS again, smiling, laughing, loving. You hope you can come back and find something to compliment ETHO on and watch him blush and fidget with his shirt collar in embarrassment. Because all those things reminded you of safety, comfort, home.

> But home wasn’t here. Home was a day’s walk away, and if you wanted to get there before sundown, you’d have to start now.

>After all, you are only a traveler. 

ok first of all: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

secondly!!!!! i love the way you wrote this!!!! it's like you're the dm and i'm the player and clethubs are the loveliest npcs i will ever meet. which is true!!!!! they are so soft and gentle and sweet and lovely and mysterious and cool and strong and open and friendly and charming!!!!!!! aaaaaa the little things like cleo not immediately noticing why the traveller is staring at them, bdubs making flowers bloom brighter with zero effort, etho seeming a little absent from the conversations but still being included in his own little way... AND SCAR PROVIDING STELLAR BACKGROUND MUSIC,,, the crastle is just such a lovely... ecosystem in this, definitely homely vibes even though it might not actually be "home",,, it feels wonderful and magical but also light!!!! whimsical!!!!!!!!! i love it i love it i love it,,, i love THEM!!!!

ahhhhhh thank you for this gift... i hope the traveller finds a place to call home too...

[simmishccfinds]

Dahlia Suarez Sim Download (With CC Links)

For the second anniversary of my Suarez Legacy series, I finally got around to uploading Dahlia for download! She has all of her skills + likes & dislikes. If you are coming from TikTok, thank you so much for your support. The series wouldn't be what it is today without you all! She only has one outfit to spare you from downloading a million files. I hope you enjoy her as much as I have :)

Download & tutorial under the cut ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

TOS:

You are welcome to do whatever you want with Dahlia in your personal gameplay but please do not include her in your social media content. However, I would love to hear how your gameplay is going with her, leave a comment and spill the tea!

Please do not reupload my sims for download anywhere, including the gallery.

How to download

Unfortunately, I cannot upload a version with CC included as it goes against the creator's TOS, but I've linked everything here for you! You must download ALL of these links for her to show up in your game properly. The genetics are especially important, if you are missing presets or sliders her face and body won't look right.

Step one: Download all of the cc files and place them in your "mods" folder. This is typically located in documents > Electronic Arts.

Step Two: Download the tray files at the bottom of the post and unzip them. These go in the "tray" folder. This folder is also located in documents > Electronic Arts.

Step Three: Open your game and go to the gallery, then to your library. If you followed the previous steps correctly Dahlia will be there! Make sure that "include custom content" is selected in your filter settings.

I always recommend making a back up of your tray files before adding anything new in. Your tray files are what shows up in your gallery library, so if something goes wrong you could lose those households/lots. You most likely won't run into any issues but better safe than sorry.

Alright, that's enough yapping from me, let me know if you have any questions!

CC LINKS

Genetics Skin overlay, Face details, Belly overlay, Stretch marks, Eyes, Nose, Hip Slider 1, Hip Slider 2, Thigh Slider, Shoulder Slider, Ears, Eye Width Slider, Eye Preset, Lip Preset, Jaw Preset

Phew, you made it passed the genetics! That was a lot.

Outfit Top, Skirt, Shoes, Necklace & Earrings, Bracelet, Anklet, Rings, Nails, Toenail Polish

Makeup Lipstick, Eyeliner, Eyeshadow, Blush

Hair Hair, Hair flower, Eyebrows (#11), Eyelashes

Tattoo- I couldn’t find a download link for this tattoo ANYWHERE so I uploaded the file onto SFS myself. If the original creator sees this, or if anyone has the link, please let me know so I can give credit!

TRAY FILES Download

Happy simming! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚