#walking everywhere until snow starts

[kashmirichaiwithmehr]

.

[thetriumphantpanda]

baby, it's cold outside | joel miller

Summary | Patrolling with Joel is always easy, he's your friend after all, but when a snow storm forces you to stop halfway, you're both faced with feelings that you'd both rather ignore, but with nothing but time, talking about them is your only option.

Word Count | 4.2k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Explicit 18+. A snow storm and a cabin with a nice, warm fireplace. Unspecified age gap. Explicit smut - unprotected PiV (don't do this, pls be smart), oral sex (F), size kink if you squint, dirty talk, two idiots who love each other, some negative feelings towards the holidays but nothing else I can think of!

Authors Note | A huge thank you to the wonderful @hellishjoel for setting the 12 days of Pedro up and asking me to take part - this was so much fun to put together and I hope you all love it as much as I do!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for the divider!

Despite having lived in Wyoming for years now, the winters were still a surprise to you. Icy cold winds, frosted windows every morning, thick downfalls of snow almost daily and a struggle to get warm no matter how many layers you wore. Some would call it picturesque, and you suppose you could see it, everywhere you turned in Jackson at this time of year, even though it was against the backdrop of the end of the world, it looked like it could adorn the cover of any Christmas card or be the setting for any Christmas movie. It didn’t matter, because you hated it either way.

When the tree went up in the centre of town, and the lights got switched on, it only served to remind you how solitary you were. How you existed mainly entirely on your own. No family, barely any friends, always the talk of the gaggle of girls who would whisper to each other whenever you passed and start laughing to each other, or the boys who always wondered why instead of hanging around with people your own age, you opted to spend it alone, or with someone who was pushing sixty.

Because if there was a single person in this Godforsaken town that you could class as a friend, it was Joel Miller. Quiet, closed off, unapproachable until you chipped away at his hard exterior, just like you in so many ways, it was actually sickening really. You liked Joel, ever since Tommy had put you two together for patrols when Maria had given birth, it was like you’d found someone who finally understood your need to be alone.

Patrolling outside the walls gave you peace, let you leave your loneliness behind for a while, just you and the ground beneath your boots, the feeling that you were doing something wrong, were less of a person because of your lack of friends and relationships left behind at the gate. You’d proven yourself capable more than enough times for Tommy to realise you were an asset. You’d saved more than enough people with your good aim and quick trigger finger, been ruthless in getting rid of raiders who strayed too close to your safe haven, and he knew your need for solitude, which is why he trusted you on these longer routes, on the more complicated patrol rotations, the ones that would get you out of Jackson for a week.

You surmise that’s probably why he chose to pair you up with Joel. In the two years you’d patrolled together, you’d come to realise that he needed that solitude just as much as you did. A way to leave behind being a father at the gate and remind himself of exactly who he was before. Out here, walking side-by-side next to you, he wasn’t Ellie’s dad, he wasn’t the man who still woke up in cold sweats remembering the heavy weight of his dead daughter in his arms, or that man who had lost almost everyone he’d ever cared for along the way, he was just Joel. Joel, who was more comfortable cradling a rifle in his arms than he was his infant nephew. Joel, who preferred comfortable silence instead of filling the quiet with talk. Joel, who, even when you suspected he hated you at the start, would have protected you to the death no matter what.

You were similar, far more than you’d like to admit, and as the weeks and months had drawn on, and you’d moved into being more comfortable with each other, he really was one of those things you’d wanted for so long. A friend. Someone to rely on, someone to drink with at the end of a hard patrol route, someone who made sure you ate when it was the last thing on your mind, someone who fixed the hole in your roof and put new planks of wood on your porch when you almost fell through it one day, someone who confided in you about how hard he found being a parent again, someone who opened up to you when things started to sour with Ellie. A friend.

He was also someone, in the last six months, that you suspected wanted to be more than your friend. It had started small, with things any good friend would do. He would offer you his arm when you walked during the winter so you wouldn’t slip, started packing double lunch so he knew you’d eat when you’d go out together, but then it was the hand on the small of your back through town, or the way he’d sit close to you in the bar, knees knocking against yours just so he could put a hand on your knee to apologise for getting too close.

And it’s not like you didn’t see that in him either. For a man who was almost sixty, he was incredibly handsome, able to do unspeakable things on patrol that neither of you would talk about to anyone else, strong in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Sure, his hearing was shot in one ear, his middle soft with age, and his hair and beard peppered with grey hair, but Joel Miller was a sight.

But, what if you’d read his signals wrong? What if his kindness and that warm hand on your knee was just him being a Southern gentleman? You throw yourself at him and he doesn’t feel the same, what happens then? You lose one of the very few friends you’ve ever had, and that’s somehow worse than knowing you’ll never know what the feel of his skin is like under your touch or what it sounds like when he moans your name for you.

The patrol route is brutal this day, wind and snow making it hard to see anything in front of you. You and Joel had to shout loudly to each other in order to hear anything, so when you stumble across the cabin, halfway through the route, you both decide that it’s best to head inside, get warm and wait out the worst of the storm before carrying on. Safer that way, is what Joel said, but you think it’s got more to do with the cold on his joints than the safety. Even at your younger age, your bones were certainly aching.

The wind whips a flurry of snow into the abandoned cabin when Joel pushes the door open, ushering you inside quickly, shutting the door quickly behind the two of you before more snow can follow you in. He sets his rifle down near the door and his backpack on the worn, moth-eaten couch, kneeling in front of the fireplace.

This particular cabin is a regular stop on this patrol route, an agreement between the residents of Jackson who frequent it to keep it stocked with firewood during the cold season. You silently note to thank whoever had patrolled before you for stacking the fireplace so all Joel really needs to do is set fire to the scrunched paper dotted through the wood to get the warmth of the fire flooding the small front room.

“Reckon we’re here for the long run,” Joel grumbles, holding flat palms up to the flames to warm his hands, “Ain’t no way we’re walking anywhere in that.”

And he’s right, the light of the day is fading fast and even in daylight, the blizzard had been a nightmare to traverse. It’s not like you’re wanting to rush back though, you sometimes wish you could pack everything up and come out here for good, live in your solitude until the end of your days, but for now, just a few more nights away from the place that reminds you just how alone you are will do.

You settle down on the couch, trying to burrow further into the coat around your body, not bothering to take your gloves or your hat off until the flames of the fire are stronger.

“Come sit closer,” Joel murmurs, motioning with his hand for you to sit on the floor next to him, “Warm up a little.”

You slip down from the couch and scoot along the floor until you’re sat next to him. Joel reaches over and takes hold of your wrist, gently pulling off your glove, “They’re damp,” He states, reaching for your other hand to do the same, “Take your coat off too, you’ll get a chill otherwise.”

Working to unzip the front to pull it off, whilst Joel throws an extra few pieces of wood on the fire, you settle a little bit closer to the flames, feeling the warmth start to seep through your other layers. He stands, taking your coat and his, hanging them on either end of the fireplace to dry out a little, then he sits back down next to you, although a little closer than he had been before, so close that you can feel the heat of his body next to you.

You take a moment to steal a look up at him, his body larger than yours, towering a little next to you, but in the glow of the flames he’s fucking breathtaking. You get lost in tracing his jaw and the hook of his nose with your eyes that he’s turning his head to face you before you can turn away from him. He catches you with that small smile that is saved only for his family normally, Ellie, Tommy, sometimes Maria, and now, more often, you. So you smile back at him, let the warmth lick through your body, and before you realise it, he’s leaning his, broad shoulders bumping yours as his face gets closer, and God, it would be so easy to let him do it, move your face towards him, press your lips to his and burn it all to hell, but as he inches closer, that pit is opening in your stomach, bubbling anxiety and dread, so as he inches closer, you have to stop him.

You bring one of your fingers up to press against his lips gently, watching as he purses them against your touch a little, but then his eyes open when you speak, so softly, so quietly that he almost missed your plea, “Please don’t.”

It’s like you’ve burnt him with the way he not only drags his face from you, but his whole body, putting so much distance between the two of you that you almost cry. He clears his throat, running his hand over his face, “Right,” He mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” You insist, not meeting his eyes though, “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Stupid of me,” He shakes his head, “Just thought-” He sucks in a breath and pushes it out on a sigh, “Thought maybe you’d feel the same, but it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, Joel,” You sigh, finally turning to him, “It’s okay.”

“Makes sense,” He shrugs, eyes boring holes into the flames in front of you, “I’m old, too old for you to want me.”

“It has nothing to do with you being too old for me Joel, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.”

You expect him to drop it, like he often does with these kinds of conversation, the ones that involve feelings, but he doesn’t.

“Then what is it?”

“Well, it has nothing to do with your grey hairs or your creaky fucking knees, that’s for sure.”

He’s looking at you with a look that says to get fucked, hurry up, tell him the real reason for all this.

“I could be shit in bed for all you know.”

“Well that’s easy to rectify, just need a little practice.”

It makes you snort, “Can we be fucking serious for a minute, Miller?”

“You’re the one who said it first.”

“What happens when it goes tits up?” You ask, “When you get bored of me, or realise I’m not what you thought I was, what happens then?” He opens his mouth to respond to you, but you beat him to it, “I lose my best friend, that’s what happens, the only person in this Godforsaken world that I have, and I don’t want that, I don’t want a world where I’m without you.”

“Who says it’s going to go tits up?” He counters, “Baby, I’m old, I ain’t gonna go running off, I just want somethin’ good, somethin’ happy, and I want that with you,” Just like you had done before, he starts talking again before you can add something, “Put your faith in somethin’, darlin’,” He’s moving back towards you now, shifting closer, “Put your faith in, me.”

It sounds so easy when he says it like that, because you had once before, without even realising. Let him in, let him get close, to know everything you’d been through, share everything he’d been through. You let him sit with you late at night in the summer, strumming his guitar on your porch, he lets you share his whiskey when you need it.

“I’m still gonna be your best friend,” He urges, that warm palm resting on your knee, “That ain’t gonna change, we’re just gonna add to it.”

And for some reason, it snaps, all of your good judgement and everything that was holding you back. His face is cradled in your palms before you know it, your body straddling his lap as your mouth slants over his, a surprised gasp swallowed by your mouth as his lips open against yours, his hands coming to rest on the globes of your ass through your jeans, pulling you closer, chest flush to chest as you soak this in.

Hands dropping to the collar of his shirt, you start to slowly unbutton it, mouth still against his, tongue tasting him as your fingers push button after button through their holes until you can push it from his shoulders, drag his arms from it, drag his undershirt from it’s place tucked into his jeans.

Joel gasps when your hands make contact with the skin under it, fingers still slightly icy from the cold, but that too is swallowed by your mouth, as is the moan that drags from your throat when he bucks his hips into yours.

He pulls away from your lips, forehead pressed to yours as you both breathe deeply, “Don’t seem shit in bed so far.” He chuckles.

“I was fucking with you Joel,” You smile, punctuating it with a roll of your hips into his, “I’m a delight in bed.”

“Prove it.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“This is the floor Joel,” Which earns you a squeeze to your ass, “I’ve never fucked someone on the floor before.”

Before you know what’s happening, he’s flipped you over, your back pressed to the dusty wooden floor, his body looming over yours, fingers picking the button of your jeans apart, pulling the zipper down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down your legs, underwear along with them too, before they’re thrown behind him somewhere, forgotten as he parts your knees, legs spread, exposed to him, and you think you might die from the way he looks at you. You bury your head into your shoulder, trying to escape his gaze as he drags his thumb along your folds, growling when he feels how wet you are just from his mouth on yours.

You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of his feet hitting one of the armchairs behind him as he lowers his chest to the floor, hands pulling at your hips, your back dragging across the wooden floor as his mouth presses a single, feather-light kiss to your clit. The smallest of touches to your body has your back arching into him.

How long has it been? Not since you fucked someone, because in the grand scheme of things that hasn’t been too long. No, how long has it been since someone actually made you feel good? Years, you think. Too long. Too long since sex was anything more than just stress relief, pressed against the brick wall by the Tipsy Bison, letting someone fuck you so you could feel something, giving them the bragging rights of fucking the town outcast in return.

This is different. So different. Joel is slow with it, parting you in front of his face with his thumbs, tongue swirling through the slick you’re not even embarrassed about now, tasting you, drinking you in, before he drags his perfect mouth up, lapping gently at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Taste so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He coos against your skin, his praise making you preen, hips chasing the feeling of his mouth on you, he chuckles at your desperation, “How long’s it been since someone made you feel good, huh?”

Your fingers tangle in the curls on his head, dragging him back down to your cunt to silence him, “Too long.” Is all you offer as he feasts on you.

Tongue swirling, lips suckling, fingers digging into the skin of your hips, dragging you slowly but surely to the edge, the fire in your blood no match for the fire against your skin. He’s fucking good at this, knows exactly how to listen to your moans, the way you pull at his hair when he does something you like, collecting the little gasps and hip movements until he’s working a pattern on your pussy that makes you feeling like you’re going to explode, combust, maybe even die a little.

“Don’t stop,” You urge, breathless, sheen of sweat settling across what skin of yours is exposed to the flames near to you, “Gonna - fuck Joel - gonna cum.”

That’s when he pushes two of his fingers into you. Hooking them up inside of your cunt, your legs dropping open further than you thought possible as he works you and works you. You’ve gone quiet, letting out only short breathes when holding them in makes your head light, fingers so tight in his hair that you think it’s probably hurting.

Then, you think you find God, right there on the dirty, dusty floor, when the coil snaps inside of you. Your back arches off the floor, thighs clenched around Joel’s head as his tongue continues the flicks against your clit, ignoring the high-pitches whines of too much, Joel listening instead to the movement of your legs, the way your entire body convulses until you truly are spent for him.

Joel pushes himself up onto his knees, dragging his undershirt over his head, pulling his belt through its loops as you’re sitting up, dragging the upper portion of your clothes off, naked on the floor for him, the flames from the fire keeping you warm, even if your nipples do pebble and peak against the cold.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel breathes out as your hand settles on your pussy, fingers dragging through the slick to lazily move over your clit, “I wish you could see yourself right now, baby,” He crones, pushing down his jeans, cock springing free, immediately clasped in his fist, movements slow as he watches you touch yourself, “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

His body falls forward, coverings yours, but this isn’t what you want. Hand on his chest, you’re pushing him back, “Wanna ride you, Joel.” You whine.

Like a kid on Christmas, he’s on his back in seconds, jeans and underwear pooled around his ankles because if you’re not sinking down on him in the next few seconds, he’s going to scream. You settle your thighs on either side of his hips, his cock, heavy and throbbing against his stomach. He’s watching you, as you take the base of him in your hand, line him up with that aching core of yours, head notching into you, where you just keep him for a moment, let him stretch you as you ground yourself with palms on his chest, sinking down, inch by inch until he’s fully buried inside you, warmth wrapping around him, just like the warmth from the fire against his skin.

You start moving your hips, his cock so deep in you he swears if he put a palm on your lower belly, he’d feel himself through your skin with the way you’re grinding against him, head thrown back, mouth dropped open. He wishes he could take a photo of this. He doesn’t think he’s seen a nicer sight in his life.

“It’s a lot, ain’t it baby?” He coos, hands on your hips, guiding your movements, he knows he’s big, been told enough times through his life, but the way you’re slow, getting used to him inside him, has him on the verge of spilling inside you already.

“So big, Joel.” You whine, leaning back now, hands on his knees which have moved up, his feet planted on the floor now, and God alive, if he thought you were a sight before, you’re a fucking masterpiece now as you start bouncing on his cock.

He can’t help himself, he is only a man after all, his hands trailing up the curves of your side, taking hold of your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, listening to the way you sing for him. Somehow, he finds core strength from somewhere, pushes himself up, one hand behind him to prop him where he is, as his mouth sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling that pebbled peak with his tongue, your arm wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself against him, hips still working against his, finger tangling in the curls near his neck, keeping his mouth anchored right where it is.

Joel pulls off you, a wet smack from his lips as he looks up at you with those beautiful brown orbs, “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” He praises, “So tight around me, like you were made for me.”

“Wanna feel you,” You moan, head dropping against his shoulder, “Wanna feel you come for me.”

He’s wrapping his arms around your back, dragging you down with him as he rests himself back on the floor, your chest pressed to his as he finally takes control. Feet planted on the floor with your teeth digging into his shoulders, he fucks up into you, the cabin filled with nothing but breathy moans and a lewd smack of skin as he pounds himself into you. In an ideal world he’d focus on making you come again, feeling you clench around his cock as you fall apart would be incredible, but he thinks there will be time for that later.

He’s so fucking close, you can feel it, the way his fingers are gripping t every inch of skin they can reach, the way his hips are faltering and how your name is more of a feature on his lips. You let out a surprise squeal as he flips you both, your back now to the ground as his cock slips out of you, his fist replacing the wet heat of your cunt as the warmth of his cum splashes across your lower belly, a howl, not unlike an animal, falling from his mouth as he paints you, claims you as his own with those ropes of cum across your skin.

When all is said and done, and he’s taken in the sight of your skin splashed with his spend, the two of you lying in front of the fire, one blanket dragged from the bed on the floor to soften the harsh wood, another pooled around both your hips, this feels like home. Both you and Joel, led on your side, watching each other, and the flickering light of the fire bathes you both in orange, in warmth.

His hand traces your face, thumb dragging across your bottom lip as he leans in to kiss you. Hours later, with harsh wind and snow still swirling outside, he brushes a thumb across your nipple, your hand reaching down between you to find him hard again. He puts you on your back this time, creaky knees be damned, slides his cock into your aching cunt once more, fucks you slowly, the entirety of his weight pressed against you. That orange glow almost convincing you that this was before, when things were normal, romantic even, as his lips leaves tiny bruises across your skin.

When he’s marked you once more as his, cum splashed from your pussy to your tits, he lies back down, the broad expanse of his back to the dying embers of the fire, your back pressed to his front, his arm snaked under your neck, urging you to sleep, and as you drift off, Joel’s hot breath against the skin of your ear, his other arm draped loosely over your waist, you pray that the snow is just as bad in the morning, because if it were possible, you want to return even less now, want to remain huddled next to Joel, on the floor, for the rest of your life.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

I love your cat au it’s so pure and fun and makes me so happy!

It’s fall where I am and leaf piles are EVERYWHERE so I was giggling to myself thinking about the guys out on the porch drinking a beer after a long day of raking leaves and Gaz swears they hear rustling and they brush him off laughing until it gets a little louder and they start hearing it too. Gaz wonders aloud if it’s a raccoon or coyote, Soap questions if weresquirrels exist, and even ghost starts to shift a little uneasily.

But then you pop your head out of the leaves, mouth full of your latest catch, and price rolls his eyes at his men. “Retirement’s makin’ you muppets soft” he laughs.

Until you hopped up the porch steps and onto the arm of his rocking chair and drop a still writhing snake into his lap. The boys never let price live down the fact that he is the only one who screamed that night

Alternatively: it’s winter, there’s 3’ of snow on the ground plus some snow drifts against the house. It’s all fun and games watching you walk atop the snow, barely leaving paw prints behind, until you step onto a patch warmed by the sun and immediately drop out of sight and into the snow drift and Simon dives head first into the snow after you

Mm yes c a n o n

Also-- have you seen foxes hunting in snow?

^^ basically reader trying to do her job after heavy snow and Simon doing the same trying to get her out of a tree well

Now I'm also thinking about how terrifying a snowball fight with the 141 would be oop

[bohbee]

Genshin characters when someone's creeping you out

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

Summary: a creepy guy keeps bothering you, so you run to the character, and they handle it the best they can.

Characters: Al-Haitham, Cyno, Tighnari, Childe, Wanderer (Kuni)

Warnings: Creepy guy, stalker [childe], sexual comments [tighnari, Al-Haitham?], manhandled [Al-Haitham, cyno], violence [wanderer] implied gore? [Childe], dude gets tossed [cyno], making out [kaveh]

Notes: this could be very triggering so please read with caution <3

Al-Haitham

"C'mon babe, I will give you so much more attention than that mediocre scribe" the creepy male had said yet again, he had been bothering you for around a week now, but today got particularly worse. Al-Haitham hadn't been with you for the week due to complications at the Akademiya, so you just had to suck it up for now. You attempted multiple times to decline him. However, he just wouldn't end his bugging.

You shook your head and walked past the male again. He was much larger than you, which struck fear in you. He obviously had dark intent.

'What do I do, I could go grab Kaveh... he'd save me.... no, he's at the house... I can't lead him to the house.' You huffed to yourself, your thoughts not giving you a clear plan. Walking into town, you decided to go to the Grand Baazar, hopefully Nilou was there.

The male followed you. Once you walked into the tunnel, he slammed you against the wall. "Don't you know it's rude to ignore a person?" his hand placed itself over your mouth, fear building into your chest. "haithem" you mumbled desperately, making the male holding you down laugh.

"Don't you know not to touch another man's lover?" Your eyes flashed towards your savior, Al-Haitham was livid, his eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed the man's arm with heavy strength. "If I even see you in the same place as them, I will not be so forgiving. Got that?" His tone was dark, causing the older male to shiver and nod. He ran away, however, was quickly stopped by Cyno, who took care of him.

Al-Haithams eyes scanned your body, his lips frowning looking at the marks the man left on your body. "Come on, let's go get you into the shower, we can talk about it at home... alright, love?" He said softly, trying to make sure you were alright. You nodded softly and walked with him to your home...

After a long shower with him and a small talk, the two of you had walked down to make dinner, informing Kaveh on the events. Kavehs reaction being slightly more frightening than your boyfriends. Gaining a chuckle out of you. You were safe.

Childe (Tartaglia, Ajax)

Dating Childe meant that you were consistently in harms way. You have been safe from all the dangers. However, as of recently, there has been a person following you everywhere you go. You didn't notice at first, but today, everything was added together. Someone was following you...

Snow crunched under your feet as you picked up your pace, rushing to your home. The dark-haired stalker followed you swiftly, your heart beated faster as his body got closer.

You quickly swung the door open and locked it, running upstairs and hiding in the hiding spot, Childe made you in case of emergencies. The doorknob to the front door rattled heavily. You held your breath as tears made their way down your cheeks. 'Childe, please hurry up,' you thought to yourself as you curled into a ball. The rattling of the doorknob got worse until the door swung open. Unfamiliar steps make their way in the house. You stopped all movement as you heard the footsteps start going upstairs.

The soft clicking of boots entered your bedroom, "I know you're here." the deep creepy voice said, sending shivers down your spine. His footsteps got closer to where you were hidden but was suddenly stopped. More footsteps could be heard at the front door, his footsteps.

"Doll? Why is the door open?" Childes voice was urgent as he looked around downstairs. The intruder opened the bedroom window and booked his sorry ass out the house. The commotion caught Childes attention, his heavy footsteps charged into the room.

He knelt down to the hiding spot and opened it only to find you curled into a ball silently sobbing "ajax." He crawled in, hugging you tightly. "Shh, I'm here. I'm here, stay here for now, I'll take care of him, okay?" He placed his coat over your body, you nodded as he closed the hiding spot.

It had only been a few minutes, and your beloved boyfriend came back, "Don't come out yet," you stayed put, waiting for him to open the hidden door. Ruffling noises were heard and then his ginger hair peaked through the door, pulling you out. His clothes were changed, he placed you on your bed and hugged you tightly "You're safe with me... always."

Cyno

(Takes place after the whole fucking fight)

It was creepy how loyal some of the matras were to their leaders. As a leader yourself, you knew this, but certain followers did too much. Especially those following Cynos commands. People were envious of him, his position, his vision, his life. However, one person in particular was determined to have his exact lifestyle. They dressed like him, joked like him, and he even wore Cynos same cologne. But the worst thing was he was trying to get to you.

Of course, the hazel eyed male was aware of his colleagues' plan, so he gave him a heavy warning. This stopped the male, however, a few months after it struck up again, after Cyno had gotten on one knee. Making you his fiance. It was like a drug to the matra.

You and Cyno had been commissioned together to go to the desert to find more details on some missing artifacts. A handful of matras had joined you, one of them being the scarily obsessed male. The group had walked into an abandoned building to rest. You decided to take watch as everyone slept. It wasn't smart for two leaders to watch at the same time so Cyno couldn't be with you.

You sat on the top of the building, watching the stars twinkle in the deep sky. Soft footsteps caught your attention, 'dammnit' you thought to yourself. "U-Uh, I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd join you." The male said, a weird smile spreading across his face.

You mumbled an alright and sat uncomfortably as the male shifted awfully close to you. "So uh, you're getting married to the General, huh?" He said, his voice had a distasteful twinge to it. You let out a hum nod, nodding at his question.

He grabbed your left hand, and you quickly went to pull back, but his hand was tight. "I just wanna see the ring... calm down, sweetie." his creepy nickname caused you to shiver. You pulled your hand away harshly. "Do not put your hands on me...." you said with a serious tone. "Now it would be in your best interest to go back downstairs." Your eyes glared into his shocked irises. "I just simply want to talk, you know make friends I-"

His sentence was cut off by a hand grabbing his neck roughly. "They said go. Now, since you didn't listen to the leader in charge, you are dismissed." Cynos voice was stern, rage boiling through his blood. "S-sir please I-" Cyno clicked his tongue and tossed the person off the roof. A yelp emitting from the obsessive guys throat. His body plopped in the sand heavily, Cyno still glaring at him. Causing the male to scatter and run out of sight.

Cyno then turned to you. He grabbed your head and laid it on his lap. "You rest here, alright? I'll keep watch. " he kissed your ring. "We mind as well toss the commission out if you can't get any rest." He said with a straight face. "Cyno, that wasn't even funny," you said, holding in a giggle "Love, you know it was"

Kaveh

You sat at a table at Lambads Tavern, waiting for your architect boyfriend to join you. He wasn't late. You just liked being early to things. You sipped your drink as you opened your book, reading from where you last left off. The seat in front of you slid, a body sitting in it. Assuming it was your beloved, you spoke aloud. "Hey Kaveh, how was the new project?" You asked, closing your book, looking up only to be met with unfamiliar eyes. The man in front of you was clearly drunk, his friends cheering him on in the background.

"I don't know who that Kaveh is, but I'd gladly be it for you." He smirked... 'That wasn't even clever,' you thought to yourself. Forcing a smile, you shook your head "Actually I'm waiting for my boyfriend to join me." A heavy frown painting the guys face, he shook his head. "Well, he isn't here, so let a guy buy a hottie like you a drink"

You grumbled once again, declining his offer. He went to go say something again. However, a loud slam on the table startled you both. Your boyfriend stood their, an angry blush covering his face. He then looked at you, grabbed your face, and kissed you passionately. Causing the dudes friends to all gasp. "Mine." He said after he pulled away from your delicate lips. The drunk guy grumbled and hobbled away, Kaveh got a new chair and sat down. "Next time, punch him." he said to you. "Better yet, I'll get you a ring to place on your finger." his words caused a heavy blush to appear on your face. He smirked and kissed your hand. "I'm serious though, both parts."

Tighnari

(Starts off platonic)

"Ugh, could you please leave me alone, I am not interested." You groaned at the male 'artist'. You continued to walk the path towards Gandharva Ville. He followed behind you, "I am just trying to teach you the arts of which none other than the Lesser Lord taught me." he said, attempting to defend himself. He had been trying to get into bed with you all afternoon, and it was quite annoying. He was one of the bed pickpockets. He would wait till you'd sleep and rob you clean.

You shook your head again, as the village finally came in sight. "I said no" your stern voice raised a little, hoping that someone was near enough to hear. You walked on the bridge leading to your place of staying, the dude still following you.

The familiar forest watcher, your best friend walked out, his eyes flickering towards you. His ears had picked up the commotion, and he walked over to you, pulling you aside. "Uh, excuse me, I am with them." The artist said his words gained a grumble from Tighnari.

"Yeah, right, go before I feed you to the withering zones." The artist looked at him shocked but then soon scurried off. Tighnari pulled you into his room, "you okay?" He asked. You nodded, still slightly annoyed at the situation. "Good, y'know you could always come to me whenever that happens." His words were sweet and sincere. "Yeah, but that'd be a bother, haha." you said as you sat down on a chair.

His face got close to yours, both of your eyes flickered to eachothers lips. The two of you slowly closed the gap, kissing very delicately. He pulled away, his tail swaying happily. "Now you gotta come to me."

Wanderer [Kuni]

You walked into your house, locking the door quickly. Your swift actions caught the attention of your boyfriend. Your face was ridden with fear. He stumbled up from his spot and walked towards you, "What happened?" He asked, his voice was stern, yet laced with fear that his past came to catch him.

"Some guy keeps following me, Kuni." Your voice was soft. It was creepy, and you thought that The Fatui had come to end you. He grumbled, a large grimace present on his face. "Stay here." He said lowly, grabbing his hat, he rushed out the door.

You walked towards the couch and settled in. You knew what he was going to do. This has happened a couple of times before, but no one has ever followed you home. Whoever was stalking you was going to pay, Kuni would make sure of that. You grabbed his cape and hugged it waiting for him to come back home.....

The signature knock was played on the door, letting you know that your boyfriend was there. He unlocked the door, closed it and locked it again. His clothes were clean but his hands were bloody. "Pathetic, wasn't even a Fatui, just some weak excuse of life"

After he washed his hands he stood infront of you, he wasn't one to ask for cuddles so he would wait for you to ask. It was your little thing, you opened your arms "Lay with me?" You asked, a very faint smile was placed on his lips "if you insist."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

This was surely something. Part two will be up soon :)

[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

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[postmortemnivis]

spring was simon’s favourite season.

maybe because it meant rebirth, seeing the trees turn a vivid green again and the fields full of flowers and colours gave him hope. he loved to wake up and open his window in the early days of april, when the world was finally getting rid of the chilly morning breeze that always made him sick the first weeks of winter. every time he felt the air getting warmer, he couldn’t wait to change his heavy winter jacket into his windbreaker.

maybe it was because his birthday was in may, and despite not having celebrated it like he should’ve when he was a kid, he knew you would never forget to wake him up with a soft peck on the lips.

‘morning birthday boy.

if you asked him, he would tell you he liked spring better than summer because the weather was more enjoyable, not too hot yet not cold. spring’s light showers were his favourite noise to wake up to, after the one of the coffee maker he got you for christmas.

the real reason simon was so devoted to spring, almost as much as he was to you, were you. what did you expect from him?

he knew you probably couldn’t remember, but all those years back, you two met in early spring, after a particularly difficult winter.

simons life had been a deep, cold and dark winter for the past years. two, five, ten, who kept count anymore? his days would blend one into the other, seasons slowly bleeding into the next, he almost couldn’t tell the difference between august and february. seasonal depression was real, but somehow it lingered all around the year for him. that was before you.

you were the first shy sun ray that filtered through the clouds, quite literally. you, as fresh as the cold rain, and your heart, as warm as a late may afternoon, were all he needed to get out of his hibernation. you were what simon needed to wake up, the signal that spring and all beautiful things were on the way, that he needed to arise and get out of his hollow tree.

for the first time in years, simon’s eyes realized that spring was blooming everywhere around him, he was just too deep into his winter, blind, to notice; the flowers were blossoming, as beautiful as ever. he was grateful.

for you, for spring, for the sun finally caressing his face and skin and for your sweet kisses, each of them feeling like the first warm day after months of wind and snow.

“good morning, birthday boy.” you whispered as you kissed his lips.

simon squeezed his eyes shut before slowly opening them. he’d heard you get up, of course, the moment you started stirring in bed he was informed you were awake. you could try to keep the military out of the house, but the instincts followed him home, whether you liked it or not.

your bright smile was beaming at him, your hands on his bare broad chest as you sat on his hips, your thighs on either side of his waist.

“‘mornin’ beautiful.” he mumbled, resting a strong hand on your hip as he sat back, leaning against the headrest.

“breakfast’s in the kitchen,” you smiled, “i made coffee too.”

he hummed. “can smell it. i heard you too.”

you grinned.

“what’re grinning at?” he tiredly grinned back.

“want me to bring you breakfast in bed?” you said, “we can stay here in bed all day if you want to.”

he shook his head. “nah, love, i’m coming to the kitchen. i’ll be ready in a minute.”

you brought your lips to his again before getting off of him and caressing his cheek as you walked back to the kitchen, waiting for him.

his eyes followed your figure until you left the room, and he raised his gaze to the ceiling for a minute before shuffling his feet to the bathroom. he closed the door and stood in front of the sink, his hands on either side of the ceramic. his brown eyes, so dark they looked black, remained fixed on his reflection before he walked to the big window and opened the panes.

“simon?” you called. “baby, your coffee’s getting cold!”

his broad figure stood there, studying the nature outside. there was a small park in front of the flat, a little green heaven where mostly children went to play, he could hear from there the laughters and giggles. the trees, wild cherries and guelder rose followed the small street, their branches almost reaching the top floor where you lived.

“comin’ love.”

it was the middle of may, almost summer, and simon took a big breath of the fresh morning air before leaving the window open as he turned around and walked to the kitchen, right into his little piece of spring.

[lennadanvers]

Pure Imagination: sleeping in his bed

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie knows how you look when you’re sleeping. He saw you once.

It was winter. He remembers because he had been very, very cold. Everything outside was covered in snow, and his jacket was hanging, wet, on the back of his chair. His sweater wasn’t enough to keep him from shivering, but Eddie didn’t want to tell Wayne his old coat didn’t fit him anymore. All his paycheck was destined to keeping the heater in the trailer working anyway. So he was stuck being cold until he could save enough money to get a new one. It was already hard for him to focus in class as is, but the temperature made it impossible that day. So he started to look around for a distraction.

His eyes moved, as usual, towards your seat. He was lucky enough to have taken over a desk in the same row as you. On days like this, he was thankful people avoided sitting next to him.

You were wearing a fluffy jacket. It looked so soft and comfortable. He wondered how it would feel against his face. His eyes traveled along your side. High-waisted jeans, teddy bear jacket, arms on your desk, closed eyes…

You were asleep.

It didn’t feel like one of those scenes in movies where the pretty girl is sleeping and the guy stares at her delicate, perfectly calm face. You were pretty, of course. And he was staring. But you were actually relaxed. Your eyebrows had dropped (weird, because they were one of your most expressive features). Your cheek was flushed, and he was relieved to know your jacket did keep you from the cold he was enduring. Your mouth was a little open, and your hair was falling in messy strands everywhere.

It made his heart ache, how you could let your guard down enough to be vulnerable in a place like this. Full of people. Some of which could be pretty cruel. Most of which kept quiet and let it happen. Eddie shivered again.

But he wasn’t cold anymore.

That’s his favorite inspiration for days like this one. When he has stayed late at the shop, working in a car that refuses to start. He’s covered in grime, his nails black with grease. He put his hair in a ponytail this morning, and it’s giving him a headache now. Eddie needs a shower and some food, but just thinking of cold water and microwave dinner makes him want to cry a little.

He takes off his boots and walks in silence to his room. Everything is dark, and he takes a second to listen. Yeah, there it is. That sounds like your breathing, doesn’t it? It’s definitely not the wind. He nods to himself and turns the light on. Eddie didn’t make his bed before leaving, and the messy sheets look like a poor excuse of a nest.

It’s missing something.

Eddie blinks and there you are, yet again. Your hair is a disaster, all over his pillow. Your legs are at a weird angle, feet under the covers, hips flush against the mattress. Those pajama shorts are a little too short, and he can see your ass peeking out. One arm in trapped under your ribs, the other next to your face.

Your face. There’s a couple lines where it was pressed against the sheets. Your mouth isn’t closed all the way, and your eyebrows are messy. You’re not wearing any makeup. No lipstick or gloss, your lips completely naked. Your eyes look smaller without mascara and eyeliner, and your cheeks are flushed in a less-than-delicate-way.

Eddie stays at the door. He’s so lucky you let your guard down like this around him. You feel safe in his bed, don’t you? Beautiful. His sheets will smell like you when he gets in, warm and welcoming. He’ll lay his head next to your neck. He’ll look just as imperfect as you when he falls asleep.

Eddie stares at his empty bed before smiling to himself and stepping out, back to the hallway. He’s found the energy to go take a shower, after all.

Masterlist

Taglist: @whataboutbibi @hellfirenacht @daisyridleyss

[itaipava]

— christmas with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

snow fight: he would take you to make angels in the snow but, when you least expected it, you would be attacked by a snowball and when you looked at him, he would act confused as if nothing had happened, so you take advantage of this moment and play more snow on him, which causes a snow fight. you lose track of time because you’re too busy throwing snow at each other while trying to hide: you laugh so much and have fun like children. after a while, he comes to you: he hugs you and kisses you several times, which makes you laugh even more because his lips are cold. later you go home to watch christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

building a snowman: he would be very excited to build a snowman with you and he wouldn’t even try to hide it because honestly he probably waited all year for it to snow so he could build one with you. he would try to make it look like one of his friends but it wouldn’t work anyway. the snowman is a little jagged and deformed, but you two worked so hard on it, you love it anyway. he would let you add the finishing touches like; the scarf, the nose, and any hat you could find in the dorm that would fit your crazy snowman. his name would be from your shipp and he would take so many pictures to always remember this special and funny moment.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

making cookies together: he promises to help you, but he spends all the time with his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watches you do all the work by yourself. but after you complain, he helps you cut the cookie dough in the shape of stars and christmas trees, complaining about how cliché it is but still enjoying spending time with you: this moment is so precious and genuine to him, spending this day with you it’s truly a blessing. and when the cookie is done, he smiles and brags about being an amazing cook

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

ice skating; he would pick you up on a date, not telling you where you were going; so you would be very surprised when he pulls into the parking lot of an outdoor ice skating rink. it would be all decorated for the holiday with christmas lights everywhere and it’s so beautiful you can’t stop smiling and admiring the place around you. you’d probably need to wear those things kids use and hold so they don’t fall on the ice and he’d quickly grab it for you, trying to hide the smile on his face. he just circles around you while you barely move and try not to fall. when you start to get a little more used to it, he grabs your hands and holds you to keep you steady, looking sweetly at you. asking strangers to take a picture of you two for him to send to his family as a keepsake. then he’d buy you hot chocolate later and walk around town with you until it’s time to go home <3

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

going to shop together: walking through the crowded mall hand in hand as christmas music plays softly on the intercoms. after buying some presents for your friends (with you having to help him because he has no idea what to buy) you decide to split up to buy presents for each other; at the end of the day he takes you to dinner in a beautiful and comforting place. he lightly pats your hand on the table as you wait for your food to arrive, enjoying the snow falling outside.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

decorating the christmas tree: he would have all the trinkets and decorations ready when you get there and he would smile a little embarrassed at how excited he is; he would take it so seriously; it would be so cute and precious. he probably has a color scheme for all the embellishments and decorations, so everything matches and that makes you even more enchanted. he helps you to place all the ornaments that are too high on the tree for you to reach; smiling without you noticing because he doesn’t want this moment so unique and pure to end ever. he also loves taking photos of you distracted while you decorate the tree or when you pet roscoe who watches the two of you with curiosity. he also likes to take several photos of the three of you together, to save this precious and genuine moment and to post everywhere — and brag about having a beautiful family.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

making a gingerbread house: he’s the one who came up with the idea and honestly he’s really good at it! he is very focused and silent as he puts the frosting on the walls of the house, but he also gets even more intense and focused as he glues the walls together, whispering something like “no sudden moves, babe.” as if it were the most important thing of all. but of course, he would still have fun with it and mess with you a bit; he probably smears frosting on your cheek or nose and kisses you with the excuse to ‘clean up’ but you two would also discuss how to decorate the outside of the house; he wants to use chewing gum as a doorknob and you want to make one with glace; it takes hours to finish, but once done it looks amazing; it’s a mix of both of your design ideas and you both love it <3

[natalievoncatte]

The storm was blinding. A white torrent fell from the sky in a raging tempest, the likes of which Lena had not seen since she left Metropolis for National City. This was no mere blizzard, but a genuine thundersnow- lighting flashed eerily in the strange pink-white night as thunder buffeted the windows. The Tower’s balcony door was sealed shut against the driving storm.

They were all out there and Lena was here. There was no supervillain this time, at least, not directly- the freak blizzards rolling through Southern California and wreaking havoc on the unprepared people and infrastructure were caused by some asshole calling himself the Weather Wizard, screwing around with the Flash three states away. Lena had seen him on TV; he was a few clicks above a Condiment King-tier villain. One of the joke guys that some cape would take care of on their way to a real fight.

Or he had been, until he got his hands on some tech he wasn’t supposed to have and started punching above his weight class. Lena didn’t care about that. She was thinking about only one thing right now: Kara.

They were all out there. Kara and the others. The city was a mess; people needed heated shelters, the power was out across two thirds of the city, and Kara had already prevent hundreds of deaths on a bridge that was about to collapse from the unexpected weight of snow and the intense cold. The blizzard had come on so fast that the rush our traffic was almost literally frozen right in place.

The city needed its heroes and Lena… Lena was stuck in the Tower. Literally; there was no way to get her home in this mess and she wasn’t going to leave, and she’d sworn off the idea of putting on silly clothes and picking a made up name to go cast spells and deploy gadgets with the others.

She had a feeling… more of a quiet understanding, really, that Kara was against that, even if she never quite said it.

Finally, she saw a shape in the whirling snow as a caped figure walked up to the balcony doors. As Kara stepped inside, a blast of arctic air followed her, chilling Lena to the bone.

Kara was *shivering*.

“Kara?” said Lena. “What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you get cold before.”

“J-just exerting myself,” said Kara. “Alex wants me in the sunbed for a few minutes to charge back up.”

She clearly needed it. Her cape was stiff and crusted with frost and there was snow everywhere, clinging to her hair and brows. She paused for a moment, as she descended the stairs, and looked at Lena. Really looked at her- despite the chill and the frost clinging to her, her eyes were warm, the warm blue of the sky on a summer day.

“Kara?”

“Nothing, sorry,” she said.

Lena watched her pass, feeling a bit off kilter, then rushed to the kitchen. She whipped up some of Kara’s favorite hot chocolate and didn’t spare the whipped cream or a cherry on top, and piled up some donuts and cinnamon rolls beside.

Kara looked haggard, groaning as she laid down under the lamps. Her face lit up brighter than the false suns when she saw the tray Lena carried.

“Oh Rao, I could kiss you for that.”

Lena almost missed a step, smoothly recovering from her stumble instead of dumping it all on Supergirl’s crest. Kara looked at her intently, an unreadable but wide-eyed look on her face.

“I know you’re hungry. Come on, eat.”

“Can’t stay long,” Kara said, between eating entire donuts in two bites, “they need me.”

“I know,” said Lena. “They always do.”

Kara sat quietly for a while, eating, and it made Lena feel more at ease to see some color coming back into her cheeks, even if the snowmelt wetted her hair. Absently, Lena brushed a damp lock out of Kara’s eyes.

“Are you going back out?”

Kara nodded. “I have to. They need me in five places at once. The city is completely unprepared for something like this.”

“I wish I could help.”

“You are helping.”

Lena sighed. “I could do more, you know. I’m starting to master the magic, and now that the Foundation is going strong, I can whip up tech pretty fast.”

Kara sighed and sat up. “I know, but I need you here. I can’t be distracted by worrying about your safety all the time.”

“You wouldn’t say that to Alex. Or J’onn. Or Nia.”

Kara let out an exasperated sound, but her voice was very soft. “It’s different when it’s you.”

Lena tried to swallow but her throat clenched, and she fought down the sensation of her heart doing a backflip. Kara rose from the bed and stood to her full height, and Lena was once again taken aback by how dashing and heroic she looked in her suit, like a modern day knight. It made her feel strangely small in a way that she didn’t dislike.

Kara carefully took Lena’s hands in her own, tenderly rubbing the pads of her thumbs over Lena’s knuckles, sending chilling shocks up her arms.

“Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Kara nodded and departed, rushing out of the Tower and back into the storm.

She was gone for hours again. Everyone checked in with Lena periodically, and eventually, Lena found a couch to lay on and curled up under a cardigan as a blanket. J’onn made this place much more comfy than the DEO, she gave him that.

Kara breezed back in sometime after dawn, trudging back inside, ice-caked and frost-encrusted, pale and worn down. She headed right for the kitchen.

Lena padded after her in her stocking feet.

Kara sighed. “Alex, Nia, and Brainy at helping with the shelters. J’onn is out there… there’s roof collapses and accordion wrecks and fires and people trapped. It’s going to be days of this, cleaning it up. How does a blizzard start fires.”

Planting a hand on the fridge, Kara leaned on it and sighed.

“How much time do you have?”

“Now that the sun is up, I don’t need the bed. I can just pop up above the cloud cover if I need it. I just wanted to get warm for a minute.”

“Sit,” said Lena.

Kara sat. Lena made more hot chocolate. The donuts had run out, so Lena tore open more of the little powdered cocoa packets and kept on making more until Kara waved her off.

“Are you getting warmed up?” said Lena.

The way Kara looked at her spoke volumes, but Lena couldn’t read them.

“Yes. I have to go.”

“Okay, but after this is over, you owe me some alone time.”

Kara smiled. “It’s a date.”

They both froze. It was a common phrase, an ordinary idiom, but it felt like something had just… unveiled itself, like fog rolling back from an unknown, verdant country. Kara was blushing scarlet.

“I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” said Lena.

She had to do this before she lost the nerve. She rushed around the kitchen island and rushed to Kara’s side, pressing a hand on her shoulder, and rose up on her tippy toes to press a kiss to Kara’s cheek- or rather, the side of her mouth, just this side of a real kiss. Kara went stock still and Lena thought for a moment that she’d done something terrible, misread the moment, but she could roll it back, play it off as a friendly gesture.

A hand, soft as silk and warm as honey, cupped Lena’s cheek and tilted her chin up, so her gaze met the boundless depths of Kara’s eyes, so full of welling emotion that Lena could drown in them.

“Wait for me.”

“I will.”

Then she was gone, giving herself back to the tempest outside.

Lena waited for her. It was hours again. The snow finally slowed, the sky beginning to lighten as the artificial snow weather patterns shifted back to normal and nature reasserted itself. The city would be in for a shock- it was going to be in the seventies by the next day.

Kara looked utterly worn out when she came back, finally, trudging down from the balcony with her shoulders slumped and her hair hanging in ragged wet clumps from her head as her cape drooped with moisture.

“You waited,” she said.

“I did. Let’s get you dry, huh?”

Lena worked a towel over Kara’s head, more than a little jealous as the effortless way her golden hair formed those beautiful lose curls as the water was wrung out of them, giving her a salon perfect finish with absolutely no work.

One that was done, Kara merely had to remove her suit to shed the rest of the water in a puddle at her feet, leaving her standing there in sweats and a cute fluffy kitten shirt that she had first ironically gifted to Lena and then stolen back, but only after Lena had worn it a few times.

“I’m so tired,” said Kara.

“I know, darling,” said Lena. “Plenty of places to get some rest here. J’onn made his superhero hideout cosy.”

“I don’t want to rest,” said Kara.

Lena’s heart began to pound. She knew deep down that she wanted this, but it seemed so distant and remote that she’d nearly given up even fantasizing about it. Now that Kara had revealed her identity, she no longer changed her posture or body language around Lena and stood tall, shoulders reared back and her lithe, impressive physique on full display even in cheesy loungewear.

Kara took the first step, drawing up into Lena’s space and crossing an invisible boundary, once first laid out over a brunch that was both tense and pleasant, and had been pushed and stretched and nearly broken so many times it could hardly be said to exist at all, and yet the moment she did, it was clear what was happening.

Kara was not putting her arms around Lena’s waist in a platonic gesture. The embrace she pulled her into was not what friends are for. The natural way they slotted together and Kara brushed her lips against Lena’s to ask permission was in no way friendly.

Lena rose a little on the balls of her feet and turned whatever this was into a real kiss, and Kara kissed her back. Kara’s hands roamed down over Lena’s backside before she realized what she was doing and the shot back up to a chaste spot on Lena’s back, prompting her to giggle into Kara’s mouth.

“Miss Danvers,” said Lena, “did you just grab my ass?”

“I… umm…”

Lena grinned. “Yes. Just say yes.”

“I actually wanted to ask you out on a real date first.”

Lena snorted. “Kara, we’ve been on a date for five years. Now, pick me up and carry me somewhere private already.”

Grinning, Kara picked her right up off her feet.

[yournightmary]

you should write something where reader is a primary teacher, and ellie is a volunteer/fill in music teacher :D they meet and romance happens or something (i’m bad with words 😀) <3

Play Date | E.W.

content warning:: fem!reader, I guess dealer!Ellie but not really?, bad writing

AN:: not proofread because i’d rather shoot myself than read my own writing. I’m so sorry if it’s bad but i’ve tried my best😔 also no idea hot to tittle things

Whoever told you that being a daycare volunteer is a good idea was wrong- on many, many levels may I add.

You always thought that kids were just cute tiny humans but that changed with your first day at the daycare in Jackson. Most of the kids were boys, there were maybe three girls total. And you never even took into consideration that fall just started, so did every kind of colds and sicknesses possible.

What’s worse than a snotty, nasty seven year old boy tugging on your shirt with his grimy hands? A whole room of them. You only took this job because Maria asked you to. She said something about you ‘wasting your potential by going on patrols’. And by potential she meant the fact that you can read, write and do basic math… sometimes.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You pushed the door of the daycare building open, furrowing your brows softly at the scratchy sound they’d made. It was almost winter, thankfully. Maria said you wouldn’t have to work once the snow falls, something about patrols not going out as often in bad weather. You shrugged off your jacket, hanging it on the wooden coat rack.

Before you could do anything else you’ve heard a knock on the door, immediately rolling your eyes in annoyance. You took your sweet time getting to it, muttering profanities under your breath.

“Daycare isn’t open until 7:30, sorry.” You opened the door with a sigh, your tone as cold as the outside air.

“Uh- Maria asked me to help you? She said to come here after 6:00 but- I uh, overslept.” Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the girl before you.

Ellie Williams. What the actual fuck?

You stared at her in disbelief, finally noticing the guitar in her hands. She scratched her neck nervously, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.

“You gonna let me in?” You slapped yourself mentally, stepping away from the door. She walked in, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’.

Ellie placed her guitar against one of the many chairs, curiously looking around the daycare. She traced all of the drawings on the walls, wondering about the stories behind each of them.

“Why did Maria want you to help me?” You asked her after a while, sorting through all of the pencils and sharpening dull ones.

“That’s a funny story… I did something she didn’t like and this is my punishment, I guess- not that I don’t like you! I’m just… bad with kids.” Ellie stumbled over her words a little, looking everywhere but at you.

“Well, what did you do?” You raised your eyebrow, even if she wasn’t facing your way. You sighed softly before adding. “And don’t worry- this feels like a punishment to me too… and I volunteered.”

Ellie snickered before circling around some tables and sitting down next to you, grouping all the pencils by color and placing them in their assigned little boxes.

“She found out I was dealing.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, though you could hear the nervousness in her tone. “Weed, you know? Said ‘I’m corrupting Jackson’”

“Shit, you’ve been dealing?” You unintentionally raised your voice, turning your head to look at her with furrowed brows. She raised her head slowly, nodding with an anxious expression. “Why didn’t you tell me anything? I felt bad for nagging Dina and she didn’t want to tell where she gets it from.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped as she looked at you baffled, the pencil she was holding almost falling out of her hand.

“I didn’t know you smoked, sorry.” She muttered, not expecting the way you reacted.

“I don’t look the part, huh?” You looked down at your clothes, the white collar peeking out of your beige sweater and your brown pants cuffed nicely, even if it exposed your ankles to the cold winter air.

Ellie shook her head to the sides with a chuckle, taking the opportunity and looking you up and down. After a moment in awkward silence she spoke up, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“So why don’t you go on patrols? I mean, you’re really smart and stuff. You could be useful.” The way she said it sounded almost like an invitation, raising her brows slightly while glancing at you.

“Well, Maria said that I’m too smart for patrols. That I’ll be more useful as a teacher.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at the memory.

“That’s a shame… There’s this spot on one of the routes, you can see whole Jackson from there.” Ellie frowned softly, smacking her lips in disappointment.

You hummed in agreement, understanding what she was getting at. Maybe once winter comes Maria will let you go on a patrol with Ellie, just maybe. You placed a few sheets of paper in front of her, handing her a black pen.

“You can draw, right? Make some coloring pages, I gotta clean up before the kids come.” You said with a smile while standing up from the little table you were sitting at, not waiting for her answer.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The kids came in earlier than usual, the room filling up an hour after you opened. After some discussing Ellie decided to take care of the arts&crafts corner, playing a song on her guitar whenever she got a request while you taught the older kids how to multiply. You couldn’t help but steal glances at Ellie, looking away quickly when her eyes meet yours.

“Miss, why are looking at Ellie like that? Do you like like her?” You hushed the girl with furrowed brows, your cheeks burning slightly.

“Keep your eyes on your paper, Maya.” You muttered, tapping your finger against the worksheet you prepared for her. Why were kids so nosy?

You glanced at Ellie only to find her already looking at you, rolling her eyes annoyed. You giggled quietly, nodding your head in agreement. You quickly made sure everyone understood their assignments and walked over to Ellie, a smile appearing on her lips once she noticed you.

“How’s it going? Any troublemakers?” You asked jokingly, looking suspiciously at every kid with a smirk. Almost every one of them shook their head, letting you know they were on their best behavior.

“They’re all good, don’t worry.” Ellie said with a smile, admiring the way you quietly praised the boy who showed you the drawing he made today.

“That’s good to hear.” You nodded your head, stepping away with Ellie to a more secluded place. “They’re usually so much worse, maybe you’re a good influence.”

“Tell that to Maria.” Ellie snickered, tucking her short hair behind her ears. She scrunched her nose, glancing at the kids a little disgusted. “One of them sneezed into his hand and then grabbed mine though, have you ever thought about teaching manners?”

“Thank you so much for that idea, I’ve never thought about that!” You said sarcastically, pointing your finger at her while nodding your head. “But seriously, I’ve tried. They just don’t care.”

You sighed in defeat, dropping your hands to your sides. Ellie hummed in acknowledgment, looking at the kids coloring the drawings she made for them earlier.

“You play beautifully, by the way.” You nodded your head awkwardly, the words leaving your mouth before you could even think about them.

Ellie blushed lightly, biting back a grin that was threading to spread across her lips. “Thanks” She muttered quietly, looking away from you sheepishly.

She opened her mouth to add something but was cut off by some kid calling your name, asking you to help them with something. You shot her an apologetic smile before getting back to your space, leaving her with a bunch of prepubescent boy that already had teasing smirks on their faces, ready to poke fun at Ellie.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You waved goodbye to the last kid, their parent giving you a grateful smile. You closed the door with a sigh, turning around to face Ellie. She was ready to leave, guitar in one hand and the kids’ drawings she received in the other.

“Can I walk you home?” She asked quickly, looking at you with a hopeful expression. You nodded your head with a smile, putting on your jacket.

“So, how would you rate your first day here?” You locked up the daycare building, stuffing the keys into your pocket.

“Well… it wasn’t bad. I thought it would be much worse.” Ellie hummed, walking right beside you. You bumped your shoulder into hers, smirking softly.

“I gotta say- you being there made it a lot better than usual… and I’m not talking just about the help.” She looked away sheepishly, unable to stop her lips from curling into a smile.

You walked in comfortable silence, stealing sneaky glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Your hand brushed up against Ellie’s, making her gasp softly.

“Wow, you’re freezing.” She grabbed both of your hands into hers, standing in place. She rubbed her palms against the back of your hands, trying to warm you up.

“Yeah, it’s really cold today.” You giggled nervously, your cheeks heating up at her touch. She kept her grasp on one of your hands, swinging them softly between you as you walked. Smooth.

After a few minutes you finally got to your house, a little bummed out that your little trip is over. You stood before your front door, looking at Ellie shift from one foot to the other. She sighed, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“How about I pick you up tomorrow? We could walk together.” Ellie suggested, taking a deep breath between her words. She rocked on the balls of her feet slightly, waiting for your answer impatiently.

“Okay.” You nodded your head with a grin, your hand resting on the doorknob. Ellie’s shoulders relaxed almost immediately, her own lips curling into a smile.

“Alright, cool… does 6 sound good?” You hummed in agreement, your eyes locked onto Ellie’s.

You stood there for a moment, in awkward- but not negative- silence. Ellie tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, breaking the eye contact by looking around nervously. You took your chance, standing on your tip toes and pecking Ellie’s cheek. She froze up, her eyes widening. Fuck, did you read it wrong?

“I’m sorry- I dunno why I did that.” You started apologizing, waving your hands around. Ellie grabbed both of them, shaking her head to the sides.

“It’s okay! You surprised me, that’s all.” She tried to hold back her smile but failed miserably, her ears and cheeks turning beet red. “I’ll uh- I should head back.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded your head, sighing in relief at Ellie’s words. You gave her one last smile before walking into your home, closing the door softly.

You really hope the snow won’t come soon.

I HATE THIS SO MUCH IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT😭

[f1version]

SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO ‧͙*̩̩͙❅ MSC47

pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader ( she/her )

summary: Mick and you have been best friends for years, been through the good and bad, but feelings change and thoughts spiral. Will this holiday time make both of you realize that you could be the one?

warnings/info: fluff, best friends to lovers, miscommunication (they’re avoiding each other), kissing, a bit of anxiety, a try-to hallmark movie my way through fics. 

word count: 2.1k words

note: inspired on sabrina carpenter’s song! hope you like it, have a good day and happy holidays! 

snowglobe, a holiday special

DECEMBER 20, 2023

It’s cold outside; snow is falling everywhere but not with enough force to block the streets or close the stores. Usually, when the weather looks like this, you would call Mick and bake those cookies he loves. He would put on his ‘Emotional Support’ apron and pretend to help. You would tease him about how he never does anything, just there to eat, and he would laugh, eyes lighten up, and say something along the lines of—I just passed you the flour! or whatever ingredient he helped you grab from the shelf ten minutes back.

Sometimes you wonder how you ended up in this place, so desperately in love with your best friend, with butterflies in your stomach when he hugs you, a silly smile on your face when he tells some awful joke, and an enormous fear of telling him, sort of. It doesn’t matter; that won't stop you from baking cookies on such a pretty snowy day.

You: Wanna come over? I’m making cookies

Mick: Very busy right now

Mick: Just do them without me

You: that's alright

Here’s the thing: Mick’s been acting as cold as snow since the last time you saw each other a week ago. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, not that you are aware of; you were watching Hallmark movies together, and he decided to leave abruptly before the movie ended. Maybe it’s just an emergency, he said, but he’s been running away from you for days, your friends confused over the whole thing. 

You wonder if he’s noticed. Lately, your friends have spent a lot of time telling you how obvious it looks—shiny eyes paired with a never-ending smile. They have also suggested it’s mutual, which you hope because all you've wanted to do before your family's Christmas party is to confess, but who knows, maybe you’ve all been watching too many movies.

DECEMBER 22, 2023

“Are you sure you didn’t do anything to make him mad?” Alicia, your best friend, asks. She came in to leave some decorations for the party on Sunday, but one life update lent to another and of course, the Mick situation came up.

“It doesn't even seem like he’s mad at me,” You say because it’s true, you’ve known Mick long enough to know how he acts when mad,  “he’s just ignoring me.”

She sighs. “Then why don’t you ask him what’s wrong?” 

You’ve asked yourself that a couple of times, but the answer is still not clear, usually is as easy as walking down the street to his house but this time the thought overwhelms you. “Because I'm scared?” You answer, out of breath. “I don't know. I’m focusing on the party, especially because Mom doesn’t come back until tomorrow evening.”

“Honestly, my suggestion is for you to ask him before the party.” 

You sigh, knowing she’s right. The Christmas party is a tradition your families started eleven years ago, after Alicia, Gina, Esteban, Mick, and you decided to become inseparable at one of Mick’s birthday parties. This year it will be hosted at your family home, and with your mom away in Germany for a work conference, you’ve had your friends come around and help. They’ve all shown up but Mick. What the hell is his problem?

“I know Ali but,” Your phone starts ringing, Mickey is displayed on your screen with a picture of Mick carrying Angie. Alicia rolls her eyes and encourages you to take it with her head. “Hello?” 

“Hi. I'm panicking a bit,” he says, the background noise lets you know he's in his car. 

“Why?” You ask, forgetting you were having a crisis on this. “Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “It’s embarrassing, but I have no idea what to get your mom,” he says, and you laugh. Last year, you were having this exact crisis about Corinna.

You hum, thinking, “She wanted new pedals for her bike. Loved some she saw in Bike World; you’ll have to drive a bit, but I’ll send you the pic.” You put your phone away, change the call to speaker, and open messages, sending the picture your mom sent you a month ago. “There you go.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

You smile, letting out a laugh. “I know, idiot.”

“Bye, love you,” he says. Your calls always end like this; it’s a habit, so you mutter Love you back and hang up.

Alicia is staring at you, a grin on her red lips. “I hate both of you,” and she laughs, grabbing her keys and purse, about to leave. You’re somehow dumbfounded. 

“What?”

“Bye, love you. Love you,” she mimics, and you feel heat rise up your cheeks. “You guys really need to talk; I’m done dealing with him too.”

“What? Ali, it’s a ha-”

“I’m coming back at six”

“Alicia!”

“Just ask him!” She closes de door before you can even ask her to come back.

DECEMBER 24, 2023

Needless to say, you didn’t talk with Mick on the 23rd. Too busy dealing with the party and, as Esteban said, too busy avoiding the topic. 

Now it’s 7 p.m., warm lights tint the house while friends and family sway along the music in the background. Mick has been around since ten in the morning, bringing presents, a couple of ingredients that your mom was missing, and decorations, which he then helped put together. Now he’s just in full black attire, wine in hand, singing along to the song playing. Once again, you're too busy in your world to notice him approaching you.

“You always know which songs to play,” he says. Because he knows it’s your playlist reproducing. You know that’s one of his favorite songs.

“I try my best. But I also know it’s one of your favorites,” you answer, and he hums. There’s a void between you, one that hasn't been there before. It's not the tension when you fight or the longing when you're upset; it's not the excitement of seeing each other after months of traveling or the mischief when you prank your friends. It’s different—something that has been building itself for months—and you are too oblivious to understand what it is.

“You look beautiful,” Mick says, not looking at you but at his drink. He’s looked at you enough tonight, he thinks. You look up, suddenly feeling an outrageous urge to kiss him. Try and see if that’s the answer to all your questions.

He’s faster though, clears his throat, and says, “I’m going for more cookies.”

And he leaves. Your eyes stay on his back as he takes one cookie from the snack table. See him hum to the taste. You smile, bittersweet, What is going on, Mick? You want to shout at him, tell him in a million different ways how confusing all of this is, but that’s a talk for tomorrow; you’ve decided, you can't escape it any longer then.

"Shatz,” Someone calls and then says your name.

“Hm, yes, mom?” You ask, and it’s time to eat.

[ 10 minutes later ]

You are in the middle of dinner, or gossiping time, as Gina calls it, when Aunt Adelaide starts asking each one of you—the single, young members of the family and friends—about relationships. It’s not your favorite part, but a lot of fun commentary comes out of it.

Hearing your name, you know it's your turn. “Do you have anyone special yet? Maybe a secret boyfriend you don't want to tell us about?"

You laugh, “No, no. But I hope someone comes along this year.” First, you have to get over Mick, you think, and laugh a bit more.

“I have a neighbor I could introduce you to, dear. He’s a lovely young man.” She always has someone to present you to; it’s surprising. You try to go on dates with them, but they never end up working.

“I’ll think about it.” You say this as the loud sound of silver hitting the floor calls everyone’s attention.

Mick abruptly stands up. “I’m sorry,” he says as he picks up his fallen fork. He looks uncomfortable, like he’s had enough of the food, the music, or the topic. “Excuse me, I’m going for another one.”

The table has fallen silent. Aunt Adelaide is looking at you in amusement, a playful grin on her face. Someone nudges your shoulder, and you know it’s Alicia. Her eyes stand on a strange middle ground between confused and knowing, tilting her head in encouragement, like she always does. You also stand up, not so abruptly, but now everyone looks at you expectantly. “I’m going. Excuse me.”

You follow Mick to the kitchen; thankfully, it's far enough from the dining room that no one will bother.

“Mick?” You call once you’re there. His head is on his hands, and he is murmuring inaudible words to himself. "Mick, what is going on?"

He looks up, his hair messy. He’s overthinking, and you don't know what to do. You feel lost looking at him, far away from his thoughts and feelings. “What do you mean? Everything is alright.”

“You don’t look alright,” you say, shaking your head. “You’ve been acting strange.”

“No, I haven't. We’re alright,” he lies once again, picking on his thumbs.

You sigh, knowing this is when you talk about it—no script, no thinking, just questions and hope for answers. Whatever is budging him has his anxiety running in full force. “No, you’re not, and we're not; I have no idea what just happened, and you're acting as if you barely know me."

He takes a deep breath, runs his fingers through his hair, and looks at you with his deep blue eyes. You see questions being asked but don’t understand how to answer them. “It’s nothing; I'm just. It’s hard to explain; you won't understand.”

“I will try to understand then, like I always do.” You promise, taking two steps forward, close enough to reach out and hold him, "Just please talk to me."

“I don’t want to mess things up between us,” he says, sounding afraid. It reminds you of the time sixteen-year-old Mick broke your favorite perfume by accident. He didn’t want to tell you, too afraid you would stop talking to him. You really hope he didn’t break anything, material or not.

“You won't. I will be here for you.”

“I just want,” he stops himself once again. His eyes never leave yours, so you open yours a bit, waiting, listening to whatever he has to say, and it seems to work because he just says, “You."

“What?” You blank, not knowing what to say or do, not knowing if you understood correctly or if it’s the movie's effect once again. You see the exact moment in which he panics.

“No, fuck. I’m sorry, I.” He looks everywhere but your eyes, searching for an exit. Your first instinct is to grab his hand, keeping him where he is.

“I could,” you say slowly, looking at your now-intertwined hands. “I could be misunderstanding all of this, but, Mick,” you say, looking at him. He’s looking back, hope in his gorgeous sky blue eyes. “I like you, but no, not even. Mick, I’m so in love with you it hurts. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but then you disappeared. You didn’t want to see me; you were acting different, and I got so worried, but I think...”

“That we are both idiots,” he says, a small smirk growing on his lips.

“Yes, yes, we are.”

He smiles and brings his free hand to your cheek, says your name like it’s meant for him to say forever. “I’m in love with you too, so much. I got so scared when I realized that I didn't just like you, that I couldn’t hide it anymore. And then our friends started saying how obvious I was being.”

“Same here,” you say, laughing. He moves his hand, pulling you in for a warm hug. It feels different than any other you’ve shared; the last two pieces of a puzzle you’ve been building together, finally finding their place. It’s a breath of fresh air. Mick’s hands are all around you, softly caressing your back, his head buried in your neck, leaving a small peck before distancing himself enough so he can see your face. You want to ask if it's appropriate to kiss him now.

But he's the first to talk. “Quick question."

“Shoot."

“Do I need a mistletoe to kiss you?” He asks, and you laugh loudly. Shake your head in embarrassment. Oh, how you love this man.

“As much as I enjoy the tradition, all you, Mick Schumacher, have to do is ask,” and now it's his turn to laugh, brings you closer while doing so.

“Can I please kiss you?"

You pretend to think about it and decide to tease him a little bit: “Is that what you asked for Christmas?"

“It’s the exact thing I asked Santa Claus for."

“Then merry Christmas, Mick.”

taglist — @smartstupyd @ziarah . . . add yourself here

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Hogsmeade

Words: 935

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

“Any plans for the weekend, Moony?” James asked pointedly.

Sirius cursed him internally and then cursed himself. Why on earth did he decide to tell Peter ‘Has-Never-Kept-A-Secret-In-His-Life’ Pettigrew about his tiny crush on Remus? James had known about it less than a day later, and several weeks on, James was getting impatient, which was exactly why Sirius hadn’t told him in the first place.

Remus looked at James for a moment, “Not since the last time you asked.” He said with a small frown. “Is this your way of asking me to Hogsmeade?”

“And if it was?” James asked with a grin that Remus didn't like the look of at all.

“Prongs, be serious.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” James muttered, and Sirius kicked him under the table. “Ow! Fuck you, Padfoot! I mean, I’m serious! Go to Hogsmeade with me.”

Remus was looking more and more concerned, he looked to Pete and then to Sirius, but they seemed as baffled as he was. “As mates?”

“Sure, if that’s what it takes to get you there.” James shrugged.

“Is this some convoluted attempt to make Lily jealous? Because I can tell you right now, it won’t work.” Sirius wanted to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. “I’d honestly just planned to stay here and read. It’s going to snow.”

“Hogsmeade in the snow is very romantic!” James grinned, “I’ll buy you a hot chocolate.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “I have no idea what you’re trying to do, Prongs, but sure. I’ll go to Hogsmeade for hot chocolate.”

“Wonderful. Does Madam Puddifoots take reservations? I want to make sure we get a good table right by the window so we can watch the snow.”

Sirius choked on his coffee, and Remus instinctively rubbed his back until he could breathe again, without even looking at him. Sirius stood up and left the table without a word.

“Ok, what’s going on?” Remus asked.

“With Padfoot?” James said innocently, “No idea. Maybe he’s jealous because he doesn’t have the balls to ask someone to Hogsmeade.”

Remus sipped his tea. “Oh. Who did he want to ask?”

“Unimportant.” James gestured vaguely towards the doors. “But what is important is our date.”

“I don’t think I agreed to a date,” Remus said.

“Nonsense. Of course, you did.” He looked at Pete, “Didn’t he?”

Pete said nothing, fearing that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something that he’d regret more than he already regretted telling James.

“You’re being weird.” Remus frowned at him. “I’m going to go and see if he’s alright.”

“Fine, abandon your boyfriend!” James said dramatically.

Remus scowled as he got up from the table, “Fuck off.”

“Well, you started strong.” Peter said as they watched him walk away, “But then you fucked it up in a fairly huge way.”

“Ah, the story of my life, Pete.” James went back to his toast as if nothing had happened.

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius had taken the map and was nowhere to be found before classes. The next time Remus saw him in Charms, he mouthed ‘You okay?’, to which Sirius nodded stiffly before turning away from him. Remus considered that maybe it wasn’t James. Maybe he’d done something wrong. He went back over breakfast and tried to piece together anything that might have made Sirius upset. Sirius had kicked James under the table, but Remus couldn’t remember what James had muttered to prompt that. Maybe James would know.

As they filed out of the classroom, Remus grabbed James’ arm and dragged him into a side corridor. This did not go unnoticed by Sirius, who couldn’t believe his eyes. He pushed past Pete and raced back to the dorm before his feelings started leaking everywhere.

“Moony, we haven’t even been on a date yet!” James teased.

“Why did Sirius kick you earlier?”

James paused, “What?”

“At breakfast, you said something and he kicked you.” He leaned against the wall. “He’s upset about something.”

“Yeah, it’s probably the Hogsmeade thing,” James said nonchalantly. “Like I said, probably jealous.”

“Well, that makes no sense. Pretty much anyone would agree to go with him if he asked.”

“Oh, believe me, Moony. That’s what I’ve been telling him!” James smirked, “I also said ‘If you don’t ask soon, someone might beat you to it!’.”

“Must you be so cryptic?” Remus rubbed his temple. The moon was less than a week away. ‘All the more reason to have a nice weekend planned’, James had said to Sirius a few days ago.

“Ok let’s go through the facts.” James did his best Professor Binns impression, “One, Sirius could get almost anyone to go to Hogsmeade with him if he asked. Two, I told him that if he didn’t ask soon, someone else might. Three, he left the Great Hall in a huff after you agreed to go to Puddifoots with me.”

“I didn’t agree to— wait, what?” Remus froze, “Go back, you think that’s why he left?”

“You are two of the smartest people I know, and this is possibly the most frustrating thing I’ve ever gotten myself involved in,” James said with a smile. “Maybe you should ask him.”

“Ask him why he left or… ask him to Hogsmeade?” Remus said quietly.

“I imagine one will lead to the other.” James shrugged. “Do insist on a table by the window though. It’s not actually any more romantic but when it’s icy, you do get to see more people fall over.”

“You’re something else,” Remus said with a laugh before walking away.

“And just like that, our work here is done!” James said as Pete came round the corner.

[lol2345l]

EVENTUALLY - finnick odair x f reader

summary : finnick finally gets the love of his life back after her games, only to be met with a fate worse than ever.

warnings : angst,fluff,mental illness,argument, bruises, !talks of sa, breakups,heartbreak,trauma

❛ ━━━━━━・❪🐚❫ ・ ━━━━━━━━━━ ❜

Finnick considered himself somewhat lucky. Even after Snow had taken away his own body,his family he still spared you. You were the only person he had left and he would sure as hell do whatever it took to keep you safe. You were the warmth he needed and craved for.

Until the 68th hunger games. He knew there was only so much he could do to try and save you. He tried so hard, let you cry it out, trained you and taught you everything he knew. He never stopped apologizing until you came back to him. But that wasn’t you.

It wasn’t you who came out of that arena it was just a shell. He held you, helped you through nightmares and stayed by your side through it all.

“Finnick you can go home…I’ll be fine.” You assured him. He knew you didn’t want to burden him with everything especially because you knew what he goes through.

He sighed deeply, sitting back down next to you. “I want to stay with you, please let me help you.”

That was a phrase he repeated daily. And he learned it from you. It was something you would whisper to him when he would come back from a rough night in the capitol as you held him in your arms as if he would slip away.

Months passed by after your victory tour and Finnick’s thoughts were eating him alive. He could still hear Snow’s words ringing through his head. “Desirable” he hated that word. And he hated it so much more when he came back home only to hear you mutter it repeatedly.

“Honey…” His words echoed through the halls of his, and now your house aswell. You couldn’t stand living alone.

Picking yourself up you quickly got up leaving your shared bedroom only to be met with Finnick’s frightened expression. And you knew that he knew.

It felt like the universe and the gods wanted him to suffer. Each time things slowly started getting better he would be hit by something. And now as he stood there frozen in front of you, he turned to your room and his eyes widened in an inhumane way.

A bouquet of white roses.

You were barely even able to stand. Shaking as you gripped tightly onto him.

“I can’t Finn..I can’t.” You cried out for hours. He was ready to march to the capitol himself and demand to take on more customers just for them to leave you alone. But this was it. Snow knew you only had Finnick and he used that against you. And knowing you Finnick knew you agreed right away.

❛ ━━━━━━・❪🐚❫ ・ ━━━━━━━━━━ ❜

It had been the worst couple of months of your life. Even after the games and everything you ever went through you were sure this was the worst. But you had Finnick there, every time you came back home from the capitol he knew exactly what to do. When to touch you, what you needed and he would prepare everything in advance.

Finnick couldn’t help but blame himself. Your popularity increased significantly making the others, including Finnick himself less wanted. Although he still went from time to time there was a part of him that was glad to have more freedom. But he shut that down quickly knowing how it was affecting you.

It was a particularly rough night in the capitol, walking back to the victors village slowly knocking on the door of your shared home Finnick opened it so quick causing you to flinch slightly which made every part of your body hurt.

His heart broke. You were already sobbing and falling into his arms. He held you gently noticing the bruises peeking through the back of your dress.

“It hurts so bad Finn…” you managed to mumble through your sobs.

“Where honey?” he tilted your chin so you could look him in the eyes.

“Everywhere…this shouldn’t be allowed!” you yelled with every ounce of energy you had left.

You sat there just looking into each other’s eyes. Yours were bloodshot red and his glossy refusing to fall apart in front of you now.

He gently tried placed his hand on your back causing you to wince and let out another choked sob.

You stayed there together all night. His back rested against the couch as your head was in his lap. Running his hands through your hair whispering to you reassuringly

“I won’t let them do this to you, i will fight for you. I promise.”

It took a while but you fell asleep. Shortly after you he was asleep aswell, holding your hand tightly. He couldn’t let you slip away from him.

This went on for quite some time. So on his next trip to the capitol Finnick marched up to president Snow begging for him to let you go for at least a little while. He tried to negotiate his eyes glossy once again but only earning a cold chuckle from Snow.

“Mr Odair, I’ve never had a victor do so well. Besides you of course.I’m afraid I can’t do that,you know the rules. Don’t you boy?” He smiled once more,that disgusting smile showing that he was pleased.

It made Finnick sick to his stomach. Clenching his fists he stepped a bit closer to Snow’s desk but still kept a safe distance.

“I will do anything possible if it means she gets some peace. Anything.” He didn’t care what would happen to him anymore, you and your safety were his priority. He couldn’t let this break you anymore.

Tilting his head to the side slowly, President Snow turned on the screen behind him showing a photo.

It was you and Finnick, dancing during the last night of your victory tour. He remembers that night very clearly, oh and how beautiful you looked in the ocean blue dress.

“What does this have to do with my proposal..?” Finnick knew this wasn’t going to end well but was prepared for anything. He was prepared to give this evil man his all just for you.

Another chuckle echoed throughout the room. Finnick couldn’t help but clench his fists even tighter, threatening to collide them with Snow’s face.

“You said anything…correct?” Snow uttered once again giving Finnick that sly smile.

He gulped just nodding his head unsure of what would come out of his mouth next. He glanced back at the screen tears threatening to spill, but he was stronger than that. He couldn’t let this man win.

“As much as we love our newest victor, you will always be a capitol favorite Mr Odair. But l have been informed that you asked certain questions about bruising to your shared customers? You know that’s not allowed. It makes our well paying customers feel as if they did something wrong. And we wouldn’t want them to be unhappy and dissatisfied now would we?”

As if they did something wrong? Them paying for your company is wrong. Everything about this entire trade system is wrong. He wanted to scream it in Snow’s face but he stayed silent.

Finnick opened his mouth slightly to say something before going back to his stern expression. “I just wanted to know how that was allowed,she had some bad bruising...” He managed to mutter out unable to keep calm anymore.

“Well it is not your place to question it, and you must stop from now on.” Snow gave back the same stern look.

Nodding his head once more Finnick stepped back and put on his fake capitol persona smile.

“I understand, I’ll stop. But my proposal-” He was stopped quickly by Snow.

“No my boy, I’m afraid you don’t understand. Young love, so fragile isn’t it? Quite distracting aswell…especially when you have a very demanding job.” He emphasized the “demanding” part which made Finnick clench his fists tighter than ever before, knuckles turning a pale white color.

“You will stop seeing her and talking to her, as well as moving her out of your home. Unless of course you want to never see her again, perhaps then her house could be made use of maybe even given to another future victor. But I am sure that’s something you wouldn’t want.” He smiled once more.

He won.

That was it, the one person that kept Finnick going was slowly about to slip away and it would all be his fault.

Silence filled the room and Finnick could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop. Looking back at the screen his eyes landing on you. Your eyes,your hair he kept scanning that photo as if it was the last time he would ever lay his eyes on you.

“I…” He tried to start his sentence before pressing his lips into a straight line. President Snow had executed victors before, so he knew it was no joke. As if it was ever a joke.

“As of what I know she isn’t here tonight. You know what to do.” President Snow spoke again nodding his head towards the direction of the door.

Finnick stormed out as quick as he could. He couldn’t risk falling apart in front of all of the capitol citizens as that would bring him even more trouble. But he didn’t care anymore.

You were already slipping through his fingers like sand since after your games, and now you would be completely blown away from him.

On the train back to 4, Finnick cried all night. He didn’t eat, he barely slept and he kept looking at the tiny photo he had of you two. He carried it everywhere as a reminder of what awaits for him at home. Now all that was left was his memories of you two.

All the times you spent on the beach together since you were kids, the long walks along district 4 and the beautiful smell of vanilla that lingered in the air every time you were around.

❛ ━━━━━━・❪🐚❫ ・ ━━━━━━━━━━ ❜

Finnick ran back to the victors village as fast as he could. His heart beating rapidly threatening to jump out of his chest. He stood in front of your shared home, which would soon forcefully become only his home once again. But without you he can’t even call it a “home”.

He sighed deeply before walking up the steps.

If only there could be another way to do this.

He opened the door slowly just incase you were asleep. He was hoping you were so he could have at least one more night with you sleeping in his arms. He felt as if that was selfish of him, after all he would be the one to break your heart dangerously soon.

“Finn…? Is that you?” You questioned your voice coming from your shared bedroom.

He could hear your gentle steps coming from the hallway. He couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t.

“Finnick what’s wrong?! Are you okay?” You walked up to him quickly grabbing his face in your hands.

Your soft,gentle hands. He would miss your loving touches so much, he already missed them.

Unable to move, Finnick stood there frozen in place taking in your every feature. How strands of your hair were gently falling on your face, you stood there in front of him inspecting him completely looking for what was wrong.

He brushed your hair away from your face gently as you melted into his touch. He sucked in a deep breath before his eyes welled up with tears.

“You have to go…” He mumbled quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. He cupped your face gently and your expression somehow broke his heart all over again.

“What…?” You whispered quietly looking into his teary eyes your own tears now threatening to spill.

God, it felt like murder to put your heart through this.

You backed away slowly shaking your head. He just stood there. You looked back up at him, already a sobbing mess before slowly stepping closer.

“I don’t understand Finn…go where? Why?” Your hands were shaking slightly as you brought them back up to his face, now caressing his cheek.

He took your hands into his, holding them tightly.

“I am so sorry.” That was all he could say, his tears now spilling everywhere like the beautiful waterfalls around district 4 you both loved so much.

“Finnick, what happened? “You’re scaring me…I…”You could barely talk now,tears running and pouring hard.

“I’m sorry I…I know I always said that I could never hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Finnick what is going on?” You let out a small gasp, tears now flowing even more. It clicked, he was breaking up with you. He was leaving you. The man you loved more than the stars love the moon, the one who held you through all those dark nights, the one who promised to never hurt you. The one who promised to fight for you.

You pushed him away as hard as you could. Once,twice and then once again before hitting him in the chest.

He just stood there letting you,silent sobs escaping his mouth. He deserved it, he broke his promise and he hurt you.

He wanted to tell you that this is very last time i’m ever going to but he stayed silent. He let you pour your heart out and be angry. He deserved it, he let Snow get to him and now he’s paying the price. And it’s a big price to pay.

“I don’t understand!” You yelled as loud as you could through all of your sobs. “Did I do something…? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you…I…”

More sobs broke out from your mouth as Finnick grabbed you as tightly as he could, pulling you in, his shirt soon becoming drenched with tears. He couldn’t believe it. He was breaking your heart and you were the one apologizing.

He wished he could turn you back into a stranger , to spare you all the pain and heartbreak.

He held onto you but as strong as he was you managed to get out of his hold. You stood in front of him taking a good look at him. You pulled him in for a gentle yet passionate kiss.

“I’ll go get my stuff.” You mumbled as you rested your forehead against his.

That was it. He felt as if his life had now officially ended. Snow took everything away.

He watched as you left that night and walked over to Mag’s house still crying. He wanted to run to you,to hold you, to tell you that he had to do this for you.

❛ ━━━━━━・❪🐚❫ ・ ━━━━━━━━━━ ❜

Days had passed by and Finnick was falling apart. He saw you a couple of times at the beach,in the market and just simply walking around district 4. He blamed himself for it all.

Maybe if he was never in your life you wouldn’t have to change it.

Still you consumed his thoughts,even two weeks later his mind kept going back and forth between his conversation with Snow, and his conversation with you.

He ruined it all from the start. Snow knew he loved-loves you. He had you reaped,sold and crumbled up completely. And then he took away the one person who helped you through it all just to make you suffer even more.

And you knew this, you knew that Finnick knew it aswell. But you still couldn’t understand why. Finnick promised he would fight for you, fight for you two to make it in this cruel world. But you never blamed him, you just couldn’t do it.

He stared out from his window only to be met with a sight that crushed him immediately. You coming back from the capitol,mascara staining your cheeks and the bruises on your skin completely fresh. A part of him wanted to run out of his house to help you, but the other part knew better.

He watched as you stepped into your house barely able to open the door due to your shaking hands. And all he could do was watch. He wanted nothing more but to hold you, to feel the touch of your warm skin against his. To assure you that he would do whatever it takes to protect you, as he was trying to do now.

He hoped you would eventually come to the realization yourself. That he would never do this to you if it were up to him. If he was the one in control he would be with you right now, kissing away your tears,making you tea and getting you into bed into his arms. You fit perfectly with him like a puzzle piece.

And now that puzzle was broken apart, ripped up to shreds and thrown away. Pieces of it scattered everywhere around district 4.

He knew he would never move on, there was no one else that could hold a candle to you.

But he wasn’t going to be selfish. He hurt you enough. Although he was unable to move on he was hoping you would, eventually.

Eventually.

❛ ━━━━━━・❪🐚❫ ・ ━━━━━━━━━━ ❜

Thank you so so much to anyone who read this ♡

This was my first work I ever actually finished 🤭 English isn’t my first language so I hope this makes sense! (it kinda is but anyway…)

ANYWAY! Tame Impala inspired me so much and I just had to write this so I really really hope you enjoyed it!

Once again thank you for reading 💝

[skzhua]

Caroling to my Heart

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Lee Minho x Female!Reader

Genre: Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Christmas love story, angst, fluff.

Word Count: 14,653

Warnings: Swearing, talks of regrets, mentions of alcohol, heartbreaks.

Summary: Christmas is meant to be spent with your loved ones. Minho stopped loving a long time ago.

A/N: Credits to my boyfriend for the general idea of the plot (story is all me, though)

November nearing its end, Chrismas was approaching quickly. Children playing in the snow, shops filled with decorations to sell for the holidays, sales everywhere for presents shopping, music playing everywhere you go; truly the most wonderful time of the year.

At least, that's what most people think.

Chan has always loved Christmas. He always took it as an opportunity to gather up with his college friends with whom life was always enjoyable. Jeongin had recently gotten a promotion at work which he took very seriously, Hyunjin finally opened his dog rescue center a few years back, Felix was happily getting married in the following spring, Seungmin had finally started to get recognition for his stand up comedy shows, Changbin had entered a production company with Chan, and Jisung was finally seeing someone after not daring to date for years.

And then, there is Minho.

Him and Chan used to be the closest friends ever, and Minho was always the life of the party. He messed around in college, got good grades, made his way up to become a successful lawyer. Overall, things had turned out pretty well for him.

What Minho considered as his biggest accomplishment was his lover. The apple of his eyes, the prettiest woman he had ever laid eyes upon, the sunshine of his life. Y/N was in the same major as him, one of the top students. It started out as a very typical college love story. He was annoying her, she found him funny, they were paired for a project, they got closer, and they got together in a matter of weeks. From that point, life was perfect. They moved out together after college, adopted a ton of cats, went on so many trips outside of the country... they even got engaged.

That was until Minho messed it all up, losing everything he loved the most in one go.

Ding dong.

Jumping at the sound, Minho takes a second to recover and puts the movie he was watching on pause. He checks the clock; it is 7 o'clock in the evening. He wasn't expecting anybody to visit him. Nonetheless, he goes over his front door and looks into the peephole. He isn't surprised to see Chan waiting patiently with a plastic bag in hands. He rolls his eyes in annoyance before letting his friend in, greeting him boringly.

"Hey, Chan," he says before yawning loudly.

The older man looks him up and down, analyzing every bit of his friend's appearance. "Wow, you look like shit."

Minho doesn't answer, giving Chan the death stare instead. "What do you want?"

"Well," he starts while allowing himself to get comfortable on the couch. "Jisung is presenting his new girlfriend to us and because you didn't answer in the group chat, I thought I would check on you."

"Tonight? No, I have to get up early tomorrow."

Chan's shoulders drop as Minho, once again, declines an invitation. "You haven't come to see us in months."

Minho shrugs, visibly not seeing a problem. "I'm just very busy. I have cases coming in all the time and I can't trust my associate to work on them."

"You're overworking yourself, a break would do you some good. Besides, we miss you."

It's not that he doesn't want to see his friends, of course he does. He just knows very well he'll only end up ruining the night by not being the funny guy he used to be.

"I don't know."

Chan takes a nicely ironed shirt out of his plastic bag and puts it on the coffee table in front of him, and stands up to walk to the door. "You're welcomed to drop by if you change your mind. It's at the restaurant we used to go in college."

"Why the shirt?" Minho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Consider it as an early Christmas gift from me."

After throwing a small smile his way, Chan opens the door and leaves. Minho finds himself alone again, perplexed. He approaches the shirt and scrutinizes it. It's a designer piece which does not surprise him, Chan has always been the kind to go an extra mile for his loved ones. Looking at the clock again, it indicates 7:20 P.M. Does he still have time to go? It would mean he has to shower, get dressed, drive all the way to the restaurant... Right, that specific restaurant.

He will visit his friends, just not tonight.

2 years ago.

Christmas was the most important holiday to Y/N. It brought so much nostalgia to her and she absolutely adored every aspect of it. Baking cookies and go ice skating were part of the many activities she loved doing in December.

This was also the first year she had to spend it away from her family. She didn't regret choosing to study so far away from home but it hurt nonetheless. It would be difficult and Minho knew that.

Y/N had to work an extra shift that night if she wanted the day of Christmas Eve off. It was ridiculous, she thought. As if the restaurant really needed her to stay so late. Coming home, Y/N was so glad to finally be able to relax as she climbed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Minho was waiting excitedly at the front door of their shared apartment. He made sure the gingerbread cookies were all ready to be assembled to construct a house, checked if the Christmas lights were working fine, and put a playlist of Y/N's favourite holiday songs on his speaker.

"Soonie!" he yelled frantically at his cat as he saw him get on the counter. "You don't want to ruin your mama's night, do you?"

He picked him up and brought it close to his body, petting his head lovingly. Needless to say, this couldn't be a cuter sight to have when Y/N walked in.

"Hey, my two favourite boys," she chuckled at them before taking in how well-decorated the home was. "Min, did you set up all this?"

Her boyfriend put his pet down before bringing her into his arms. "I did. You've been feeling off recently, I thought it'd be a good idea to cheer you up. And since Christmas is next week, why not decorate cookies for the occasion?"

"You made gingerbread cookies?!"

Y/N's eyes lit up from seeing the baked goods and she rushed to go sit at the counter. Minho smiled at himself, proud he had managed to lit up her inner light just a little.

"Thank Felix for these."

"Well, thank you Felix."

Present.

Minho remembers every night she came home from that workplace. He always tried to make her feel better each time, Y/N despised working so late but she somehow always stayed positive.

How much he misses her.

Minho gasps for air, sweat all over his body. He had another nightmare, nothing unusual. What is odd is the phone ringing nonstop at this hour of the day; 4 o'clock. Who in their right mind would call someone so early?

"What?"

The person on the other side of line doesn't respond, Minho can only hear them breathe unsteadily.

"Hello?"

"Minho," Jisung finally speaks. "Sorry to bother you this early."

"It's 4:00 A.M."

"I know, I know. Just, I'm getting worried about you and I can't call you tomorrow –well, today–  or you'll say you're busy with work as always. You're not okay and I think you could use a friend."

Although not wrong, his statement fueled Minho with annoyance and frustration. He doesn't need help, or anyone for that matter.

"Minho?" Jisung speaks up again as he doesn't get a response.

"Good night, Jisung," he simply says with the intention of hanging up.

"Wait!" he hurries to stop him. "If you don't want to talk for your own sake, at least do it for mine. Not just mine, the other guys' too."

Sure, Minho hates talking about his feelings. Still, he's not a monster and cares a lot about his friends nonetheless. Feeling a bit obligated, he agrees.

"So, uhm, who's your new girlfriend?" he asks, getting uncomfortable already.

"She's a friend of Jeongin. Remember that girl he worked with in college? Well, that's her. She's so nice, I wonder why Jeongin hadn't introduced me to her sooner. She kind of reminds me of..." he trails off but stops himself before stepping out of line.

"I'm happy for you two. I'm sorry I couldn't come."

Jisung lets out a huff. "Thank you but I know you could have, you just didn't want to."

"That's not-"

"Don't lie, Minho," he cuts him off. "You didn't come because of her, am I right? Because of Y/N again?"

Minho can feel his heart tighten while his friends keeps going at it, insisting on speaking about her. He doesn't want to, is it so hard to understand?

"Let's not talk about her."

"That's the problem, Minho. You never want to open up about it."

"She left. What is there more to say?"

"How you're coping with all, how we can help-"

"The only thing you can do to help is leave me alone. I'm doing just fine. Talking was a bad idea, I should go back to bed."

"Min..." Jisung says in a desperate voice.

"Good night."

As he hangs up, he can sense it might have gone too far. Regardless, he discards his phone on his nightstand and buries his body in his bedsheets. He hears meowing coming from the entrance of his room. A second later, his cat Dori jumps on the mattress to come and lay next to him. Minho reluctantly cuddles the cat back, his last one he got with Y/N. Dori is technically her baby but she left so suddenly that Minho had no other choice but to keep him.

"Where are your brothers?" he whispers affectionately to the ball of fur who replies with some more purring. "Are Soonie and Doongie sleeping too?"

Chan is probably the only one able to get Minho out of his house, especially during Christmas time. Maybe it is guilt or shame that he feels, but Minho hasn't been so great ever since he had his early chitchat with Jisung. Shopping for presents wasn't what he had in mind when he thought of making up for it but Chan insisted it would be a good idea.

"Look," he says while pointing at the pig plush on the top of the pile. "It looks like Changbin."

Minho shrugs. "I guess it does."

"What about this?"

He looks boringly at the shirt Chan is showing. Yeah, maybe he should have done something else to make the most of his day off. A good meal at home seems so much more appealing to him.

"Come on," Chan encourages him. "Enjoy a bit."

"I am enjoying, look," Minho tries to convince him with a forced smile.

"Hmm, maybe it's time to go to the food court and take a break."

Dragging his friend behind, Chan moves from restaurant to restaurant in search of a meal for his lunch. After a while of debating internally, he settles for a hamburger. As for Minho, rice with pork seems to be tasty enough. They sit at a table and start to eat in silence. Minho looks around the place, watching people chat and laugh. He sees one couple in particular and they remind him too much of Y/N. Adverting his gaze from this spot, he focuses back on his food before speaking.

"I was thinking of buying a new hoodie for Jisung."

Chan is surprised his friend is even conversing with him but smiles. "A hoodie? Doesn't he have plenty of them already?"

"He does but he sent me a picture of one specifically the other day."

"Then you should buy it for him. Have you heard from him, by the way?"

Minho gulps. "No."

Although suspicious, Chan doesn't push it. They quickly finish their lunch and decide to head towards a clothing store to find Jisung's present. At a certain point, they unconsciously part ways as they look at different pieces of clothing. Minho would look for Chan but he has the hoodie to find. Chan is fine on his own anyway, he tells himself. He goes to the right section and begins to browse through each item. He frowns as he inspects them, not convinced these would be appropriate for his friend.

"Minho?"

He freezes in place. Has he gone crazy or has he just heard Y/N's voice?

"Minho," she says again.

Finally turning around, he is somewhat relieved that it isn't his former girlfriend, but her sister. "Deena," he greets her politely.

"It's been a while, wow. How have you been?" she asks cheerfully, too much in his opinion.

"Nothing much."

She seems taken aback by the short length of his answer. Minho used to be the nicest man she knows. Of course, she doesn't know the full story about what happened. Nonetheless, she still considers Minho as family. So seeing him so lifeless in front of her is quite a shocker.

"I'm in a bit of a rush but we should go grab coffee soon and catch up," she suggests but from the look on Minho's face, she knows she shouldn't have.

"I'm pretty busy."

"Alright," she answers, uneasy. "I'll see you around then."

"Yeah."

Without adding anything, he resumes to looking through the hoodies. Deena eventually leaves and Minho feels like he can breathe again.

He has nothing against his former "sister-in-law" but seeing her so unexpectedly is not something he has prepared himself for. He will go grab a coffee with her when he feels ready to.

Chan comes back a few minutes after with a couple of black shirts and an oversized pair of jeans he picked for Jeongin. As they wait to pay for their things, Minho can feel that Chan has something to say. It wasn't an abnormal occurrence but this time feels like it's eating him inside.

"What is it?"

Chan hesitates for a second. "It was Deena, right?"

He hums. "Yes."

"I'm running out of ways to tell you appropriately but you need to get your shit together. The girl did nothing to you and she seemed to be on the verge of crying when she left the store."

Minho rolls his eyes, like always. "What do you want me to do? Run after her and apologize? I didn't do anything."

"Exactly. Dude, everyone around you is getting sick of your way of dealing with what happened. Sure, your feelings are valid. This doesn't mean you have to inflict your pain onto us. We only want to help," Chan responds, not realizing his tone is increasing more and more.

"Always wanting to play the good savior, uh?" Minho scoffs. "In front of strangers too? Look, I don't need you to tell me how to be. You're not my dad or anything."

"I took you under my wing in college, of course I'm still looking out for you."

"That was back then. I don't need your pity anymore."

Chan's jaw clenches as the two men stare right into the eye. The cashier awkwardly calls for them to proceed to payment which breaks their staring contest. They hurry to pay before storming out of the mall, both of them fuming with anger. The moment they get into Chan's car, the latter explodes.

"This has lasted long enough. How long has it been now? A year?"

"Eleven months," Minho corrects.

"Whatever, same difference. My point is that it might be time for you to move on or at least stop being such a pain in the ass."

Minho's eyebrows raise as he lets out a chuckle. "I didn't know such strong words could come out of your mouth."

"Minho," Chan says in a warning tone.

"So what if I'm not as easygoing as before? You don't understand how it feels anyway."

"Help me understand, then!"

"You just wouldn't!"

He surprised himself by yelling so harshly. The hint of regret creeps up but he tries to hide it by looking away. They both know this is the end of this conversation, neither want to continue anyway. Chan starts the car and the ride home can't be any worse. The tension is so heavy, he swears he feels his body crushing.

Still in silence, he drops Minho off in front of his apartment complex and drives away. Face blank, Minho goes in his building and lazily enters the elevator. It's like he's in a daze, not fully aware of himself. Before he knows it, he's back home sitting at his counter with three cats waiting patiently in front of him as they expect him to fill their bowls with food. But he remains still and stares at nothing in particular. Has he gone too far this time?

In all of the people he knows, Chan is the last one he would have thought to snap at him so harshly. Most importantly, he never thought he'd yell at him for no reason. For the first time in a while, Minho allows one single tear drop from his eye.

Christmas has come. Well, almost. Work has been the same and no contact have been made with anyone for the last week or so. The lack of human interaction felt both good and bad, but mostly aching.

Every day is the same, Minho realizes. Waking up, eating a very mediocre peanut butter toast with coffee, scrolling through his feed on social medias, getting dressed, going to work, bossing his ass off in return of a less than decent pay, coming back home, eating, washing up, going to bed, sleeping, only to do the same all over again the next day.

In a way, he loves not having to think about planning things out. On the other hand, his life is becoming more and more dull with less of a purpose. Why is he alive for if it's only to do the same task over and over again?

For a change, Minho decides to start a Christmas film instead of rotating watches of the same five movies. A mistake he does is not reading the synopsis before pushing play on the remote. He settles comfortably on his couch while Soonie and Doongie cuddle next to him. Dori is somewhere nearby, playing with a piece of paper Minho had dropped on the floor earlier that week.

At first, the show is boring he thinks. The more the story develops, however, the more he sees the resemblance between himself and the protagonist. The movie is A Christmas Carol, one Y/N once had begged him to watch with her. Scrooge is very unlikable, there is no denying in that. But Minho tries to ignore the similarities he shares with him and keeps on watching the screen in silence. At some point, it simply became impossible to ignore the tightness in his chest. In an abrupt move, he turns the TV off, picks up his two cats, and heads to bed.

Christmas is so near, he thinks as he is watching his alarm clock getting closer to midnight. He really does his best to not make a big deal out of it but his mind can't stop having these images of Y/N, his friends, Christmas... everything. He can't escape pain, no matter what.

Thankfully, Dori comes in his room to join the other felines which distracts him for a second, just long enough so he can finally fall asleep.

The clock indicates 11:55 P.M. when Minho is in a deep sleep and the only sounds that can be heard throughout the whole flat are the appliances running and the cats snoring. Maybe some snores are coming from the man himself but they are faint. Slowly, Doongie wakes up. He wiggles around to find a new comfortable position but fails and falls off the bed. Luckily, cats always land on their feet. He was going to hop back on the bed but a weird sound catches his attention. It sounds like a bell. Curious, he comes out of the room in attempt to find where it comes from. But nothing. Or maybe there is something.

A faint light can be perceived from the bottom of the front door. The cat carefully gets closer, lowering his body. In a single snap, something flies right from under the door and moving straight into Minho's room which scares Doongie well enough to go hide in his cat tree and let out a cry.

This immediately wakes Minho up as his instinctive cat dad senses take over but it is soon replaced with an unsettling feeling as he sees the bright light in front of him. He squints as it almost blinds him but he wants to know what it is. He can feel his heartbeat increase by the second as the source of light gets closer and closer. Holding his breath, he shut his eyes closed and moves his head away from whatever that is. Until he hears a sigh too familiar to his liking.

He dares to open his eyes and his shoulders drop at the sight. "Chan?"

It's not exactly Chan, it is more of a ghost-like version of him. He wears a very formal suit with his hair styled with gel and his body is translucent, making Minho very skeptical. This is a dream, he thinks. Chan is very much alive and very much not in his apartment. Certainly not after the events of the other day.

"I see you didn't even reach out to me."

Minho frowns and looks around the room as if to make sure he really is speaking to him. "What do you mean?"

Chan chuckles, his voice sounding more like an echo. "After our fight, dumbass! Come on, you weren't going to leave things as it is until Christmas."

He checks his alarm clock quickly. "Well, it is Christmas."

"In five minutes," Chan smirks at him. "I know the past few months have been hard on you."

"Great, even my subconscious is trying to fix me," he whispers to himself, loud enough that the ghost-like figure hears it.

"As in a dream?" Minho nods to the question only for Chan to laugh some more. "You're funny. Anyway, I'm not here for fun. I'm here to help you."

"You tried that already," Minho grumbles in an annoyed voice but receives a shook of the head as an answer.

"My human self tried, I haven't tried yet. You see, I only appear if I'm really needed and your case is a pretty severe one."

Minho tries to protest but is quickly shushed.

"Look, this is a night shift on Christmas Eve, I don't want this any more than you do so let's do it quickly. I'll send you three spirits tonight before it hits midnight. They'll guide you through your entire life and help you make the right choice. Got it?"

"Midnight is in five minutes."

"I know."

"But-"

"You'll understand," Chan cuts him off. "As for now, bon voyage."

Not even conscious that he had been awake —or dreaming— Minho hears a snap of fingers before opening his eyes widely and gasping for air as he wakes up. He is still somewhat confused, but rather glad this was simply a dream. He can feel that the sweat has gone through his pyjamas and makes a face out of disgust.

Quickly, he eats breakfast and freshens up before leaving for work. Yes, he is working on Christmas day. This might be the only way he can get distracted from everything going wrong in his life.

As he approches his work building, he notices a young man. He looks awfully similar to Jeongin but not quite. Curiosity gets the best of him, however, and Minho instinctively walks up to the man. He takes a moment to scan his appearance: he's shorter than Jeongin, has light golden hair and wears loose white streetwear clothing. He also takes notes on the grey of his eyes.

"Lee Minho!" he says cheerfully before Minho could let out a single word.

The man jumps in surprise. "Jeongin?"

He shakes his head as a no and smiles brightly. "No, my name is P."

"P..." Minho repeats slowly, slightly confused.

"Shall we go in?"

He doesn't wait for an answer as he begins to walk and Minho automatically follows him into his building, assuming this boy might be a new worker in his firm. They hop onto the elevator together and P pushes the button to level 7. As Minho is about to look for his own floor, he notices something odd. The building has 26 levels. So why the hell are the numbers going up to 30? He slowly turns to come face to face with the younger man who keeps a wide smile on his face, fear creeping in.

"Who are you?" he dares to ask.

"I told you, I'm P!" the boy repeats with an even bigger grin, almost creepy. "Short for Past."

Oh. Oh no. It all suddenly clicks in Minho's head. Either this is a dream occuring because of the movie he had watched before going to bed or this is his own story of A Christmas Carol. He pinches the side of his arm, hoping he would be back in his room but it only results to him hissing in pain.

"Do you remember your Christmas when you were seven years old?" Minho can only glare at him but P doesn't seem to care. "This might refresh your memories."

The doors of the elevator open right after and not only are they not in his workplace anymore but the setting is exactly as he remembers it from his childhood. They are right on the street of his parents' home. The street is empty, understandably so because of the light snow falling down and the cold weather. It is early in the morning and his childhood home looks much smaller than he remembers, and in a much poorer state.

P walks out first before turning around, encouraging Minho to follow. "Can they see me?"

"No."

The answer satifies Minho and he finally steps out of the elevator, letting himself get led by this Jeongin look-alike. He wonders why this specific time was chosen in all of his years of life. He ponders the idea of asking P but it soon vanishes when he spots his younger self coming out of the house with his parents observing him in a loving way. A knot forms in his belly. He hasn't talked to his parents since Y/N left. Are they doing okay? Maybe he should have called a few times at least.

"Can we bring one home?" younger Minho asks his mom, eyes full of hope.

"Do you want a kitten as your Christmas gift?" his mother asks and the child happily nods. "We'll go see the cats and I'll think about it, okay?"

Satisfied enough, he skips down the street while humming a Christmas song. Oddly enough, it is Y/N's favourite: Winter Wonderland.

Minho watches his former self with nostalgia. He remembers the moment perfectly. This was the first time he ever owned a cat after begging his mother to get one years after years. He had named her Nala, which he thought was very clever at the time.

"Can we follow them?"

P takes his hand, much to Minho's surprise, and they begin to float just slightly above ground and fly right to where his past self is. He doesn't question the spirit about how this works and resumes to watching himself coo at the cats. For a brief moment, his eyes advert from the scene and land on his parents. But there is something catching his attention. He sees his father emptying his wallet as well as his mom before they give it to the worker. His breath gets heavier as he looks back and forth from them to himself.

"Is this why my mother stopped going out for tea with her friends? And why my father couldn't take my mother out for dates? They used to argue so much about it..." Minho almost whispers.

"Parents make great sacrifices for their children," P says longingly.

"Why didn't they tell me?"

P shrugs. "Probably because you were a literal child but also because they didn't want you to feel bad."

"My grandmother would have helped us in an instant if she knew."

P shrugs again. "They didn't want help."

He easily catches on why the ghost brought him at this exact moment. Just in time, Minho gets a hold of himself and says in incoherent words that he won't fall for P's tricks. The latter isn't nearly fazed by this statement and he takes the man's hand to bring him back to the elevator in a quick flying trip.

After the door closes, Minho is relieved that he can finally go back home. That is until P pushes the button for level 18 which earns a frown from Minho.

"Aren't we done?"

"No, you have other things left to see before I send you back. Well, a few more years to see."

"And me at 18 years old was an important year?"

P sends him a knowing look but he acts clueless, as if he doesn't know what happened back then although it's painfully obvious he does. Denial is the best way to cope, isn't it?

The doors open to the hallway of his college dorm he used to share with Chan. He can instantly recognize the said-man and Changbin joking around before they walk in his dorm. Without waiting for P, Minho follows and freezes when he stumbles upon Y/N. This moment was merely over two months into their relationship but he could tell he already knew she was his everything at that time.

Y/N greets the two boys and encourages them to put their wrapped presents under the mini Christmas tree she had insisted on making to display in his small living room. Meanwhile, a nearly adult Minho is unwrapping takeout as he watches the scene with a huge smile.

"What took you two so long?" he asks, walking towards the group with the food in hands.

"Chan's fault," Changbin immediately accuses, earning a stare from the older man.

"Not true."

"I'm not the one who lost Hyunjin's present."

Hyunjin's eyes lit up. "You got me a present?"

A small smirk appears on Chan's face. "I got all of you a present."

"Even me?"

Minho's heart tightens. He still struggles to listen to your voice and because you were there physically in front of him, it pains him so much more.

"Even you."

"Can we open them?" Felix asks, eyes lighting up.

"After eating," younger Minho says in a stern voice. "Otherwise, you'll get your dirty ass hands on the gifts, or on anything for that matter."

Y/N glances at Jisung with a knowing smirk that his friend returns, something he hadn't caught onto back then. She still hastens to give Minho a hand with all of the food dishes, not forgetting to give a napkin to each person. He knows he can be a bit peculiar with keeping his place tidy and he never wanted Y/N to feel pressured with that. Still, it visibly seemed to have been a common issue she and Jisung had with him.

"Y/N, I thought you were supposed to go back home for the holidays," Seungmin tells with food already being chewed in his mouth.

"I was," she confirms. "Minho and I determined we wanted to spend our first Christmas together and, sorry, but I rather be here than with my aunts. They were going to be all over me about not knowing what I want to do with life, I can spare myself from it."

The whole group lets out a laugh as they go on with their feast before discussing all sorts of things. Hyunjin and Chan are in the corner laughing their asses off, much to Minho's dismay who is keeping a close look at his white carpet. Hyunjin has always been clumsy and this wouldn't be the first time he spills something.

Present Minho watches it all, fully aware of what is about to happen. He never regretted getting mad at his friend for a small spoil but this kind of behaviour is one of the many that contributed to his separation. He sees what P is trying to do by showing him this.

"I get the point, can we go?"

P chuckles. "After you know what."

In shame, he observes from the corner of the eye himself exploding at Hyunjin for staining the carpet, Chan nagging at him for doing so, the boys uncomfortably watching the scene as they back away from him... and he catches a glimpse of Y/N getting the necessities to get rid of the sauce stain, not even complaining.

"I think we're good here," he tries again to convince P.

He receives a playful smirk from the spirit. "Are you sure?"

Minho groans but, nonetheless, nods. "Please."

P is quick to grab his hand and fly right back into the elevator, doors shutting behind them. He does give Minho a minute or two to recuperate from the sight before pushing the button 24. Minho's eyes are stuck on the lit up number and gulps, feeling suddenly hotter. That was last year.

"Don't you have another Christmas to show me before..." he trails off.

He is met with no answer and has to settle for the tranquility of the metal box going up. Anxiety keeps letting itself known through his body the more the number rises. Finally, after what felt like eternity to him, the ding sound signals that they have reached the level.

"You might want to prepare yourself for this one."

Minho huffs and glares at the ghost as to tell him "no shit". The doors slide open and they are already in his apartment. At least, P was kind enough to spare him from reliving what triggered the actual argument.

His cats are all doing their thing as normally. All seems out of the ordinary until he feels footsteps through the ground. He takes a deep breath in and watches Y/N barge into the place, hair messy and tears streaming down her face. The guilt pit down in his stomach when he sees himself step inside after you, throwing his scarf carelessly on a chair.

"Are you going to talk at least?" he asks, looking down at Y/N who scoffs at her boyfriend's question.

How dare he is the one demanding explanations from her?

"Are you going to talk about it?" she questions back, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Oh, come on, I didn't do anything."

"Telling everyone you want to call off the engagement is something."

P hisses in a disapproving way. "Man, you outdid yourself with this one."

"Shut up."

Y/N still waits for Minho to speak up but nothing comes out of his mouth other than his unsteady breathing. In a swift manner, she walks behind the counter and fills their cats' bowls in the meantime of waiting still for her lover to say something. But the man stays where he is, observing his surroundings in awkwardness.

"Minho," she finally calls out.

"I didn't call off the engagement."

"Really? Saying getting married is bullshit isn't telling everyone you don't want to marry me?"

"It's not like that. I meant it's not a necessity for us to know we love each other."

"You don't get that marriages can mean something other than that, it's so much more."

"It's an excuse to spend thousands of dollars on things that will last a day or two at most."

Y/N buried her face in her hands as she let out a groan. "You've always been like this."

"Realistic?"

"No, a grumpy old man. You can't see the beauty in anything."

Minho smirks for a second. "I see beauty in you."

"Don't try with your sweet words, Lee Minho," she says, raising a finger up at him. "You know exactly what I mean. I can give you so many examples. Firstly, you never buy me anything on Valentine's day because it's a marketing holiday. Then, you want every single aspect to be perfect and at their exact place although life isn't like this. And finally, you just see the negative everywhere, always pointing out what is wrong. What happened to my sweet Minho who would smile at the slightest thing?"

He remains quiet as he sits on one of the dining table's chairs. Not knowing what to do next, Y/N copies his actions and gets seated in front of him. They don't dare to look at each other just yet but Minho most definitely wants to. His ego too big, he doesn't budge.

"Minho, please," she begged.

"Alright, it's enough."

P lets out a huff. "The action barely started."

Clenching his jaw, he doesn't insist more and settles on looking at the ground while the scene he had been trying to forget about for almost a year was happening right in front of him. Minho hates it, his heart is bleeding in pain.

"I've grown, maybe that's something you should consider doing as well," he hears himself say.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he can't contain himself from looking at her, he never knew how she had reacted to his words. The view he has in front of his eyes makes his heart shatter in an instant. He swears he can see her soul leave her body just now. Had he really done this to her?

"What- Min, I-" she tries to speak, but struggles.

"Y/N, we want different things now."

She chokes out on her tears, the ones that she finally lets stream down her face since she had been containing them. She hated crying, especially with Minho.

"No, we want the same things," she affirms, her voice breaking. "You've just become too obnoxious and focused on your career that you don't see it anymore."

"You think I'm the obnoxious one? Y/N, have you seen yourself?" Minho asks in a loud voice as he gets up from his chair. "You're so full of bullshit with your positivity and ignorance towards actual problems, it makes me sick. Take the cat, for example. We don't have space for a third one but yet, here is Dori who can't even behave properly. And your Christmas decoration is taking too much space too."

"This is about space now?"

"Yes, I need space! And I'm sorry I cancelled our last date but I just can't deal with you right now. You're in the way and I can't work and- Fuck, I don't know how to tell you but we can't keep on going like this."

Her breathing is becoming more unsteady while the tears are still flooding out of her eyes. Present Minho approches her and tries to put a hand on her shoulder, but it goes through. Right, he forgot. He is not really there.

"I didn't want to call off our engagement. But maybe I do now."

Slowly, she gets up and walks towards their shared bedroom which leaves a perplexed and helpless Minho standing alone in the middle of his dining room. He hears unknown noises and hesitates on whether he should go to you or wait. But again, his ego takes over and he stays right where he is.

Soon later, only a couple of minutes, he sees Y/N walk out of the bedroom with one bag and two suitcases full of her belongings. His face dropped immediately.

"You're leaving?" he asks, desperate. No answer. "For how long?" Still silent. "Y/N, please, I know we can figure it out."

Her lower lip quivers as she sobs some more, trying her best to ignore the man in front of her. She dares to walk towards their front door, not acknowledging her lover for one second.

"My love, please," Minho tries once more.

And just like that, she walks out, door shutting quietly behind her.

"We've seen enough."

P is about to say no when he catches Minho's watery eyes. He taps himself on the back mentally, he didn't think he would break down so fast. Taking him by the forearm, he leads him towards the elevator. The doors slide shut rather fast, which Minho is thankful for. In a careful move, P presses the ground floor button and the elevator goes down.

Once arrived, the doors reveal Minho's bedroom. It looks the same as it did the night before. Minho takes notes on that, it means his night is far from being over.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"You will," P reassures. "I'll leave you alone, now. It was my pleasure being your guide for tonight."

As the two men exchange a small smile, more as a form of respect, P begins to glow, brighter and brighter. So much that Minho can't even look at him anymore and is blinded. He tried to look away but even then with his eyes closed, the light goes through.

Suddenly, there's nothing.

The morning is brighter than he thought it would be. He swears he saw on the news the day prior that Christmas day was going to be gloomy. The blue sky with the sun shining is definitely a pleasant surprise.

Enough with admiring the weather, Minho finishes rapidly his coffee, grabs his briefcase, and heads out to work. As he walks towards his building, he can't help but think of his dream from last night. He did expect dreaming of Y/N but not having to relive the day she left so vividly.

As he is about to cross the road, he feels his body collide with someone which is soon followed with the feeling of burnt. He curses out loud and is considering telling the other person off. Only, it is someone he hasn't seen in a while and who has a face he definitely recognizes.

"Hyunjin?"

The man cocks his head to the side and frowns. "Are you Mr. Lee?"

Minho, as equally confused, nods. "You don't recognize me?"

The Hyunjin look-alike seems to take notice of his whereabouts and clears his throat. "I apologize, sir. This is my first year working as a guiding spirit. Shall we start over? Hi, my name is P."

Suddenly, Minho has flashbacks of his encounter with the boy of the same name. Was he still in the dream? Or was the Chan spirit saying the truth? He feels a lump growing inside of his throat as the P man in question goes on about himself.

"I'm sincerely sorry about the coffee I spilled, let me fix this," he says before splashing Minho's figure with gold dust. The stain instantly disappears. "Now, where was I..? Oh, right! I'm P, short for Present. I was assigned to you to review your Christmas of this year."

At this point, Minho doesn't have it in him to protest. Without saying a word, he walks in the building as P follows him behind. This one spirit is much giddier than the previous one. The moment he steps in the elevator, he does nothing but look around nervously. It is with a heavy sigh that Minho empresses himself to push the button next to 25.

"I thought I forgot something, thanks," P laughs nervously, receiving a glare in return.

The ride up is quiet and awkward but when the doors open, they both step out in sync and walk along the trail of snow. The Christmas market is an event that the real Hyunjin takes part in each year. He always contributed with an animal rescue center to help them give puppies up for adoption.

This year is especially important to him, it is the first time he does it with his own dog rescue shelter. For the occasion, a few of the boys promised him they would come by to encourage him. Including Minho.

Far from the distance, Minho sees Felix and Seungmin arguing about whatever while Chan greets warmly their friend who has just finished setting his booth up.

"Guys, come look at the doggies," he calls the younger men who rush to pet the furry creatures.

"I'd call this one Seungmin," Felix jokes as he picks up a baby labrador.

Hyunjin laughs at the comment. "Her name is Daisy."

"Not very original," Felix allows himself to point out to which Hyunjin chuckles again.

His laughs trails off while he looks around, brows furrowed. "Didn't Minho say he'd come too?"

Chan sighs heavily, giving one of the poodles some scratches. "I called him but he didn't answer. Plus, we had an argument last time I saw him so I don't think he'll come."

"About Y/N again?" Seungmin asks and Chan nods. "The number of times I told her to talk it out with him, she really should call him. The guy is getting on my nerves."

Minho's heart stops for a moment. Not only because he finally knows what his friend thinks of him but also because he apparently has been in contact with Y/N, without his knowledge. He thought all of his friends haven't heard from you since.

"I told her too but what can I say? They're both stubborn," Felix shrugs. "I thought of stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers."

"Oh, please. He'd kill you if you even mention her name."

The four men share a sad laugh before changing topics. Hyunjin is careful with each dog as he introduces them one by one. All of it becomes a blur for Minho, he doesn't know if he wants to leave now or listen more to it. As much as it hurts him, he can't help but be curious.

"Did you know this?" he finally says, turning his body towards P.

"I did read it on the report paper before meeting you but, hey, I don't know you all," he responds with his hands up in defense. "We can go see her if you want."

Minho ponders for a moment. Was he ready to face her once again?

"No. Not yet."

"As you wish. Your friends are having a party tonight if you didn't know. We have to see that."

"I know, yeah."

P takes his hand as they float away all the way to Changbin's house. Before setting foot on the ground, he can already see all of his friends with Felix's fiancé, Chan's wife and Jisung's new girlfriend. Everyone is there. Except him.

He carefully approaches the group inside the living room where the girls are busy putting the presents under the Christmas tree. What takes him aback the most is seeing a tall and beautiful woman coming down the stairs before placing a kiss on Changbin's cheek. Since when is he seeing someone? It takes everyone a few minutes to settle down and serve themselves drinks. Once everyone is sat, they hold their glasses up for a toast.

"Who wants to do the honours?" Jeongin asks and Jisung immediately gets up.

"Merry Christmas, guys! Thank you for this year and thank you to Changbin for hosting the dinner tonight," he says, bopping his head towards him. "And let's have a moment for our Minho. He might not be here but he's in our heart. Let's hope he can get back on the right track next year."

There is a pause in the room, everybody suddenly feeling a wave of guilt and sadness. They know they've done everything for their friend, but they still feel like they should have tried harder.

Minho, this time, doesn't try to contain his cries. He walks up Jisung and smiles, just a little.

"Thanks, Hannie," he whispers.

"To Minho," he cheers, holding his drink higher.

"To Minho."

P lets out a cough, grabbing Minho's attention. "Not to be a mood breaker but I think you should see Y/N."

"What do you mean?"

"See what she is doing at this exact moment."

He surprisingly agrees with no hesitation and they both float away to another neighbourhood of the city. One Minho isn't too familiar with. This must be why she chose to move there, somewhere she knew she wouldn't encounter Minho. They float down at the apartment's balcony and Minho can see her right away through the window.

"You can go through walls," P informs and he does as told.

He's surprised to see her alone with her sister. She used to be a social butterfly, he wonders what happened. Deena sets the table while humming to Christmas music and Y/N finishes up with cutting the ham. It's not as Christmas-y as it should be, it's rather sad. The atmosphere is sad.

"Need help with that?" Deena offers.

"I'm good, thanks," Y/N answers as she brings the dishes on the table.

She looks paler than he remembers, maybe because of the lighting. Her hair is longer and she seems to have dyed it brown. She's also much skinnier.

"Thank you for cooking," Deena smiles warmly at her.

"It's nothing," she smiled back and begins to serve herself a plate. "I would have definitely given a piece of ham to the cats if they were here."

Deena shakes her head. "How many times did I tell you that I can go get them back?"

Y/N shakes her head too and sighs. "He loves them as much as I do, maybe even more. Who knows how he would survive without them."

"He's not really surviving, if you want my opinion. You should have seen him at the mall the other day."

Y/N shrugs while playing with her potatoes. "He's coping in his own way."

Her sister lets out a groan, desperate. "Jeez, you two are so sad to see, it's depressing."

Well, if Minho wanted to be sure Y/N is still struggling with getting over their separation, he has his answer right there.

"I'll be fine and so will he. Besides, it's not like we lost everything. I still have you and he has the boys."

Deena deadpans at her and then points at her ring finger. Minho looks at it more attentively and allows himself to gasp quietly. Y/N still has the ring, the one he proposed to her with. After what he said to her, she still wears it?

She is quick to pull her hand off the table and cover it with her sleeve. "It's a pretty ring."

"It means more to you than that and you know it."

"He didn't want to get married and it's alright. We grew apart and it is what it is. Can we talk about something else now?" she says in annoyance.

"Y/N, Felix, when he called-"

"Stop," she cuts her off. "Felix doesn't know what happened. He doesn't understand."

"Okay, I'll stop. But just so you know, this is doing no good to anybody, especially the two of you."

Minho can't hear any more of it. In a second, he turns around and goes back to the balcony which indicates to P that the visit is over. The ghost throws some of his golden dust in the air and the elevator magically appears next to them. They step inside and press the button to the ground floor.

As it goes down, Minho is looking away from the spirit, he has a certain pride to maintain. P hesitates but decides to put his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Can I just say? In my whole year of working, this might be the only case where I really empathized with my client."

Minho moves his hand away from him and grumbles something under his breath. P doesn't hear it properly but it goes along the lines of "I don't need empathy, don't act like you care".

When they get to his room, the spirit is quick to take a leave, leaving Minho alone in his cold room. At least he has his cats. He has them because of Y/N's kind heart knew he needs them.

At least, maybe she still cares a little.

The formula is the same this morning. So much that Minho knows he isn't going to work and is still trapped in this weird loop of exploring his life. He doesn't bother dressing properly nor bringing what he needs for his job. He doesn't even change his cats' water.

The moment he walks in his workplace, it doesn't even take him a second to spot the ghost of his future. It's Jisung this time. Well, not him exactly.

"Hello, my name is-"

"F, I suppose? For future?"

The spirit, stunned, slowly nods. "Usually, people are happy to see me."

"I had a long night, buddy. Just show me what you have to show me and I can move on with my life."

F doesn't argue with him and he leads him to the elevator when he presses the button 30 right away. "We'll do the quick version since you're in such a rush. I would have gone through 26 beforehand but-"

"What happens next year?" Minho interrupts him.

"No, you want this to be quick. I respect that. It's Christmas anyway, I can make an exception."

"What happens next year?" he repeats.

F smiles knowingly before glancing at the button 26. Minho, hesitantly, goes ahead to press it himself to which the ghost responds with a satisfied smirk. Before he knows it, they already reached the level.

As the doors open, Minho soon recognizes Jeongin's penthouse. Looks like that year's Christmas is settled to be at his place. Jeongin is alone with Changbin as they seem to be preparing food and drinks for the guests they are expecting. It is soon confirmed when Jisung walks in without knocking, alongside with his girlfriend. In the following minutes, each of his friends, sometimes with a significant lover, come inside and the party gets louder and merrier. However, after Hyunjin arrived, it dawns on him that his future version himself won't take part on that year's dinner.

Just like the previous year.

After chatting some more about what they are up to in their lives (nothing much other than Felix getting married but everyone knows as they attended the ceremony), Changbin calls everyone for dinner and they sit around Jeongin's dinner table.

"Can I make the toast this year?" Jisung asks, earning looks from his friends.

"You did last year, I say our host of the night does it," Seungmin suggests and they all seem to agree.

So, a bit uncomfortable still, Jeongin gets up with his glass of wine in hands. "Thank you for another year of our usual Christmas party. I'm really glad all of you were able to come. Of course, we still have a thought for our Minho who won't be joining us, yet again, tonight." The guests exchange glances in agreement and let the youngest continue. "Merry Christmas and let's enjoy our meal!"

They cling their glasses together, wishing a merry Christmas to one another, and don't lose another second to attack their plates. Although it pains him to not see himself enjoy the feast with them, Minho is somewhat happy. At least, they still have each other.

"Why couldn't he make it, anyway?" Chan asks around the table, looking at anybody who might have the answer.

The only person to answer is, unsurprisingly, Jisung. "The last time I saw him was in September and he said he had some issues with the cats. I don't know if he was making up excuses but he seemed to be alright."

"It was a miracle he even showed up for my wedding," Felix scoffs, making Minho huff. "An even bigger miracle was that he didn't make a scene when he saw Y/N there."

"They left together, no?"

What Seungmin just said gives him some kind of hope. Wanting to be sure he would hear every detail, he gets closer to his friend who continues to speak on the matter.

"I know they drank a lot but has someone seen what they were doing?"

"He was cuddly," Jisung answers. "No, clingy as hell. Poor Y/N who had to drive him home."

"They could have made up then?" Chan questions and Jisung nods.

"But we all know him, he missed his chance to fix things again."

"I really thought inviting both of them would have put an end to their mishaps," Felix sighs, discouraged. "I'll send Minho a message later."

"We could call him all together?" Chan suggests but by the reactions of everybody, this is not an option.

Just like that, they change subject and continue to discuss cheerfully about everything and anything. F gives a sad smile to the man, who watches the scene feeling beaten. There must have something really wrong with him that his closest friends wouldn't even wish him a merry Christmas.

"Where am I while all of this is happening?" he asks the ghost.

Carefully, he is transported away from the penthouse and directly to his apartment. The moment he takes in the sight of his place, he sees how nothing much changed in a year. Everything is still where it was during the present year.

His hair is longer, he notices. Not only that but he grew a bit of a beard, a choice he questions a little. His cats are still doing their thing, none of them appear to be sick. What particularly catches his attention is the glass filled with a bright yellow liquor that is set next to him as he scrolls down through his feed on his tablet.

Is he drinking? He does have a few occasions where he'll consume alcohol but a glass full of whiskey is new.

Soonie jumps on the counter and, unlike what Minho would automatically do as of right now, his future self pushes the cat off. He gasps in horror and runs to catch his pet. Only, he did forget he isn't actually there and that things pass through his body. Fortunately, Soonie is fine.

"I should text her, at least," he hears himself say.

The man he sees is far from being remotely close to what he is. Hair messy, tie loosened and a beer belly growing; he wonders what caused him to let himself reach this point.

Future Minho opens his e-mail app and clicks on New Message. He is quick to find Y/N's e-mail address, which real Minho takes as a sign he must have done the same more than once in the last year. He tries to read what he is typing but the amount of typos is quite overwhelming. Despite that, he manages to make out a somewhat coherent note.

___

Hey,

I know I should probably not be writing this but it is Christmas today so, merry Christmas. Remember how we used to go out with the others and play stupid games until late? Then, we'd come home and I'd make you a hot chocolate before going to be? You remember all of that, don't you?

I miss it, and I miss you. I know I said I'll stop writing but you broke my heart, Y/N. How can I forget and ignore what happened? You left so suddenly for no reason. I should be furious, maybe I am. No, I know I am. I still can't help myself but longing for you.

Have a jolly holiday, even if it's without me,

Min xox

___

"Wow, that's pathetic," Minho breathes out after reading. He turns to face F and frowns. "That's a year from now?"

"Precisely."

"No, it can't be. I'm alright, I moved on."

F visibly tries to contain himself from speaking on that, but he can't. "You're one oblivious man."

"I am okay!"

F scoffs. "Sure. Now, shall we visit you at 30 years old? It's Christmas and I have others plans after this."

Minho keeps finding it ridiculous how these ghosts continue to act as if they are actual people. He's still dreaming, why would he bother imagining spirits with personalities?

He is soon led to the actual elevator of his apartment building where F presses the button quickly. Once the level reached, the doors open to a beautiful wedding reception, leaving Minho confused. He does not know anybody other than Felix, who is supposedly already married by then, who is engaged.

The two men walk around the room, recognizing a few faces, and Minho finally spots himself sitting with his friends. At least he isn't alone, he tells himself. He goes straight ahead to observe the scene where he is obviously bored and sick of being there. He does notice how his appearance seem much better than before with gel in his hair and a tuxedo well ironed on.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Chan asks him in a concerned voice.

"Stop with that, I'd leave if I wasn't fine," Minho rolls his eyes.

"You haven't spoken to her, though."

"You really are good at observing, Chan," Minho responds in a mocking way and the older man simply sighs.

Suddenly, the entirety of the room begins to cheer loudly and clap. Minho tries to follow their gaze to find out who they were waiting for. After moving around to see through the dozens of head, he finally spots her. And him.

Y/N. It's her wedding. And she invited him of all people?

His brain short-circuits and he feels his heart pounding faster and faster. He can't think properly anymore, the only thing he can vividly see is her. How she smiles at every single person who congratulates her. How she clings onto this man as if her life depended on it. But most importantly, he sees how her smile just gets sadder when her eyes stop on him.

He knows time stops for the two of them before they walk towards each other. He knows so many things are still left unsaid. Gaining back his consciousness, he follows himself to watch what is about to happen.

She hugs him, a bit awkwardly. "I didn't think you'd come. Thank you."

"Congratulations," Minho says, retracting from the hug as fast as he can. "You two make a fine couple."

"Thanks," she chuckles. "Look, Min-" she starts but Minho shakes his head.

"Don't, it's okay. Enjoy your day."

Grateful, she sends him one last smile and moves to thank other guests. Chan, at this point, can do nothing else but pat his friend's shoulder. Surprisingly, Minho doesn't budge. He does, however, let one single drop fall from his eye.

"That's it?" he exclaims, now looking at F. "I'm not even trying? I just gave up? What even happened between then and that moment?"

"I've shown you plenty, you can figure it out by yourself," F says calmly and then begins to walk back to the metal box.

Minho, refusing this as an answer, runs to join him hastily. "Who's this guy, anyway?"

"Does it really matter? You two are not together anymore."

"Yes, if it can help me to prevent this."

"So you don't want her to be happy?" F perks an eyebrow making Minho groan in frustration.

"I'm asking you what I need to do to change this. It can't be like this. I'm the one who's supposed to marry her."

F smirks as they walk in the elevator, presses the button to the ground floor and finally looks at the man. "You know what has to be done, you're just afraid."

"Of what?"

"Oh, please. Stop with the act. How has the last year really been like for you?"

Minho gulps, already feeling himself choke up. "I-" he starts. "It's been hell."

F nods. "What else?"

"Y/N was right, as she always is... I'm the one who lost myself with time. I did want to marry her and I did not think she was obnoxious. Certainly not..."

He starts to cry, heavily this time. There is no more hiding or denying, he just said it all out loud. Regrets and pain, that's what's been eating him. He sobs as everything finally hits him so brutally. He lost Y/N for good. Or he will lose her for good if he keeps acting the way he does.

And his friends, the only people who stick with him through everything. The ones he keeps pushing away in fear of himself.

"You're home," the spirit says, interrupting the moment.

Minho doesn't hesitate to crash into his bed and sob some more. Even if F wanted to leave so badly, he doesn't think he should just yet. Cursing at himself, he comes to sit on the bed and pats the back of the broken man.

"It's alright, let it all out. You've had a rough night."

Minho hiccups and sniffles before glaring at the ghost. "No shit."

"You know, I think you can fix this."

Minho shrugs. "I've been horrible to everyone."

"You acknowledge it, that's a start. From there, only you can decide how things will be." F looks at his watch for a second and gasps. "I'm late for my next human! Good luck with everything."

Minho doesn't watch him leave. He is still crying but he has no more energy. He desperately wants to wake up, but mostly, he wants to see Y/N.

Minho doesn't wake up until the later morning. With the dream he just had, the sleep deprived guy seriously needed more than eight hours of resting. He does miss out work but, honestly, is not bothered the slightest. In fact, he is grateful he won't be working today.

After feeding Soonie, Doongie and Dori, he determines he should catch up on the gifts he planned on offering to his friends. Walking to his home office, he pulls out the wrapping paper he hadn't touched in a while and begins to wrap each and every single one of the presents he bought. He is definitely happy to have made some purchases the day he went shopping with Chan.

The task does grow tiring and boring after a while. To keep himself motivated, he plugs in his speaker to play some music and hums alongside the lyrics. He hasn't done that for a long time. As he is about to skip the current song playing on his playlist, his solo karaoke session is interrupted by a call coming in.

Not bothering to look at the contact, he answers happily. "Merry Christmas, you joined Lee Minho. How can I help you?"

The other side of the line is silent but he can hear that there is someone. Frowning, he repeats himself to encourage the person to talk.

"Minho, it's Changbin."

"Oh, hey! How are you doing? I was about to call you to ask what you wanted me to bring for tonight."

He senses that his friend is quite taken aback and he smiles proudly to himself.

"You're coming?"

"Unless I wasn't invited-"

"No, no," Changbin cuts him. "You're always welcomed, you know that. I'd just expected you to say you have work or something."

"I was supposed to clock in but I didn't feel like going to the office. Oh, by the way, can I ask a favor from you?"

"Uh, yeah, go ahead..." Changbin replies, skeptical.

"I know you're still in contact with Y/N."

Changbin, on his side, freezes. "How did you- Min, I swear we all wanted to tell you-"

"I'm not mad. I just wanted to know if you could possibly invite her and Deena for dinner, please? Don't tell them I'll be there, though."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I want it to be a surprise."

He doesn't say anything for a minute, processing what is happening. "Then, I'll invite them and say you aren't coming."

"Good! See you tonight! And tell your girlfriend I'm excited to meet her!"

He doesn't let Changbin question him on how he learned about his girlfriend and hangs up. Resuming to his activity, he stops when he sees Soonie playing with wrapping paper. Filming him, he coos at him before giving him loving scratches.

"I won't ever hurt you, I promise," he tell his cat, recalling what happened in his dream.

When he has finished with wrapping his gifts, he goes to his closet to find an appropriate attire for the night. For the last year, he hadn't wore anything other than work clothes and sweats. The nice shirt Y/N once bought him catches his attention. The dark green buttoned blouse seem to be a perfect match for his black clean pants. He changes fast and does not forget to add a few pieces of jewelry to finish his look.

He is all set to go. But one look at himself in the mirror at his entrance stops him for a moment. It suddenly clicks that he is a couple hours away from seeing Y/N again, for real this time. Although terrified, he has found some peace with it from the events of the previous night. He wants to make things right.

And one thing he can do just now is call his parents, the ones he has been ignoring for a year. He did expect his mother to cry but certainly not his father. Both incite him to come to his hometown in the following days and he can't refuse the invite. Not when they are begging with their puppy eyes.

"I'll come for New Year's, does it sounds okay?"

His mother nods vigorously through the screen of his phone. "Will Y/N be coming with you?"

He might have left out that he isn't with her anymore. Seeing the look on his parents' faces, he does not have the heart to tell them yet. Instead, he goes with a safe answer.

"I'll see with her if she can clear her schedule, but no promise."

"Tell her she's always welcomed here whenever. Merry Christmas, son!" his father wishes him adoringly.

He smiles, feeling suddenly nostalgic. "Merry Christmas to you two!"

And he hangs up.

Before going to Changbin's place, he doesn't forget to stop at the Christmas market to pay his friend, Hyunjin, a visit. Mentally preparing himself to face a pissed off Chan, he strolls between the booths and stops at a few of them. Some are selling soaps, a lot of them in fact. Others sell clothes they crocheted themselves and a few offer samples of their baked goods.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin's golden locks are easily found from afar. Minho also spots Chan, Seungmin and Felix. He has a heavy case of déjà-vu when he sees the four of them discuss with frowns on their faces.

Discreetly, he walks towards his friends who don't take knowledge of his presence yet. That is until he arrives right behind Felix.

"-stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers," the man is telling the others, oblivious that Minho is hearing everything.

Seungmin gulps and nods his head towards him but Felix cluelessly frowns. Hyunjin does the same which finally makes him turn around and come face to face with Minho. His eyes grow twice their sizes and his mouth opens slightly in shock.

"Hi, Yongbok," Minho says, unbothered. "Cute puppies you got, Hwang."

Hyunjin smiles, thankful. "Do you want to pet one? I've got this chihuahua that looks like Kkami."

He doesn't have the time to answer when a small dog is suddenly placed in his arms. With no complaint, he pets the puppy affectionately. The four men look at him, rather confused, and say nothing. They simply have no idea on how to react to this.

"Minho, what I said about Y/N- She- Uh... We-" Felix stammers out his words but Minho interrupts him.

"I know and it's all good. She is your friend too, I can't be mad at her for wanting to keep you all around."

"I see you've made some thinking," Chan finally speaks up, eyes stern.

"You can say that... I'm sorry about the other day, you were right. I shouldn't have shut you out of my life," he admits, much to his own surprise.

"Apology accepted," Chan grins. "A little birdie told me you asked Changbin to invite Y/N and Deena for dinner."

Seungmin's eyes lit up. "So you changed your mind? You'll come?"

Minho huffs. "I never said I wouldn't come."

Hyunjin sneers. "I know someone who'll be ecstatic about that."

The girl paces the floor nervously, biting her nails as she waits for her sister to arrive. Even if Changbin assured to her that her ex-fiancé wouldn't be attending the party, she can't help but feel like he will find out. She already feels guilty for keeping contact with his friends, who knows how he would react if he learns she went to celebrate Christmas with them.

As Deena finally walks in the apartment, she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. "Finally!"

Her sister rolls her eyes. "It took me barely five minutes to get here."

"Still," she chuckles sheepishly. "Thank you for coming with me."

"What would you do without me?" she exclaims dramatically. "For real, it's very nice for them to invite you. Especially after last year. Plus, it's better than our sappy sister date night."

Y/N lets out a small laugh but resumes automatically to biting down her lower lip in nervousness. Deena notices it but doesn't comment on it. Instead, she rushes her to leave, saying they will be late otherwise.

In the car, Y/N can't wait any longer. She has worries and needs to let them out or she'll go mad.

"What if Minho ends up showing up?"

Deena gives her a look but answers nonetheless. "He won't. And if he does, he'll have to suck it up and be an adult about you being there."

"Do you think he'll get mad when he discoverd that I still talked with the guys?"

"Y/N, for fuck's sake, it's not your problem to deal with! He's the one being a little bitch. Besides, you're not with him anymore."

"It doesn't mean I want to hurt him... and..."

She doesn't complete her sentence since she knows Deena must have understood right away. Y/N is still hopelessly in love with Minho. As much as she believes that leaving was the right thing to do, there were so many instances where she tried to convince herself that he'd change if she goes back to him.

She knows, deep down, she might be right on that.

"I can't believe you're actually here with actual presents!" Jisung almost yells as he brings his friend into a warm hug.

Hyunjin scoffs. "Let the man breathe! See, Min? I told you."

Minho taps Jisung's back a few times as to tell him to let go but he refuses, tightening the embrace. Jeongin is the one to break them apart to be the next in line to hug Minho. Everyone is baffled by his change of heart but they look past it and are simply grateful to have gotten their friend back.

"So? Is she coming?" Minho asks Changbin once he greeted everybody one by one.

"She confirmed she is."

Chan frowns and takes him by the shoulders. "Are you sure you want to talk to her?"

"Things were left unsaid, I need to clear this out once and for all."

Ding dong.

Oh. Now things are getting a bit too real, and panic begins to settle throughout his entire body. With once glance exchanged with Chan, it somehow reassures him. Still with his heart beating fast, he retreats himself behind the group as Changbin goes ahead to open the door.

She looks just like he remembers, stunning. There is, however, a hint of something he can't quite understand. She is paler and shyer. Past that, she is the same. While hugging everyone with her bright smile on her face, she shines. Minho is not too sure if he wants to ruin her brightness by letting his presence known. Looking around nervously, we wonders if this was a bad idea after all.

Before he can escape, he hears his name being called from afar; Jisung. Cursing at him mentally, Minho steps aside from behind Hyunjin and waves, embarrassed.

To no one's surprise, there is a moment of awkwardness settled in the room. While Minho is too ashamed to look back at her, Y/N can't rip her gaze away from him. She can't believe he is actually there. She has to make a mental note for later to smack Changbin for lying to her.

The moment is interrupted by Deena, thankfully. "Hey, Minho! I didn't think you'd be here."

"Hi Deena," he replies in a small voice.

This seems to be enough for the others to resume to their thing: Changbin taking his guests' coats to the other room while his girlfriend offers drinks, Deena putting the presents under the Christmas tree, Chan's wife and Felix's girlfriend sitting in a corner to discuss... Y/N, however, does not budge. Not until everyone leaves the entrance, revealing Minho standing in front of her.

"You dyed your hair?" he finally says, more or less to break the weird tension between the two.

She chuckles and runs her fingers through her longs brown locks. "I did, I thought a change might be good."

He nods as he puts his hands in his pockets, rocking his body back and forth. Now what? He knows he wants to talk about the obvious, but how?

"You're wearing that shirt," she points out with a smile. "It fits you well."

"Thank you. Your dress is cute."

"Thanks. I haven't wore this in a while."

"In a dress or not, you're cute either way."

She blushes. It's not as bad as she thought, they can at least do small talk. Still, this is far from being what she was used to with him. It suddenly snaps in her mind how much she missed him.

"I'll go get a drink, you're welcomed to come along," she offers which makes Minho smile.

Changbin's girlfriend makes no complaint when Minho asks her to make a specific drink, one Y/N would always get when they were together. It does not get unnoticed by the latter and she is amazed he remembers such details even after not speaking to each other for a whole entire year.

"You seem to be doing good," he comments once they get a hold of their alcoholic drinks.

"I'm not too bad. I joined a new law firm and, hopefully, they'll let me work on a case on my own."

It pains him to know she is still struggling with work, this was never an issue for him. "One day, someone will recognize your competence."

"Easy for you to say. I've heard you climbed status and have your own office?"

"Which one of the boys told you that?"

By the look on her face, he has managed to surprise her. "So you know."

He takes a sip of his glass and shrugs. "It did hurt a little that nobody told me but it's alright. You needed them as much as I did."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm the jerk here. I pushed you away to the point you left and after you did, I was so close to losing all of my friends. You did nothing wrong."

She moves her head to the side, unsure on how to react. "We both made mistakes."

He scoffs. "Maybe, but you have to admit I did things way worse than you."

"It's alright, we're okay now. It wasn't meant to be."

His heart tightens and he scoffs once more. "What if it was?"

"Minho-"

"No, Y/N, listen to me for this one. Please." The gleam in his eyes convinces her and she nods for him to continue. "I don't know exactly what happened, it might be work, but I lost myself at some point. I never thought weddings were bullshit, not once in my life. My dream the moment I met you was to put a ring on your finger."

Minho stops himself and gives a scan around to make sure nobody is watching. He is thankful when he realizes his friends are busy with watching a funny video on Felix's phone. With no hesitation, he takes Y/N's hand and moves her sleeve up to reveal her engagement ring, still beautifully worn on her finger. Embarrassed, she is quick to retract her hand back in hiding. How did he know if she has been hiding it as soon as she saw him?

"And I think you might still want that."

Her eyes get watery when she forces herself to stare back at him. "This year has been... a lot. I was not ready to remove it just yet and, I guess I just got used to wearing it."

Although tempted to correct her as he know the truth, Minho does not insist any more. Instead, he sends her a look that says he understands. Almost as if it was planned, Chan calls everyone in the living room to open the presents and to, as they do every year, make a toast.

It takes a few minutes until everyone is sat and silent but once they seem good to go, Chan nods his head at Minho. "Why don't you do the honours this year, Min?"

"Oh, um..."

"I think it won't be appropriate if it is anybody else other than you," Seungmin adds to which the others seem to agree on.

Reluctantly, he gets up from his seat and clears his throat. "First of all, I'd like to apologize for the way I've been acting. I was going through a lot and I shouldn't have imposed it on you, I'm sorry. Second of all, thank you all for sticking by my side although I was a total asshole."

"Heck yeah, you are," he hears Changbin jokingly respond.

"Something else I want to mention," he continues, ignoring his friend, "is how much regret I've felt this year. Y/N?"

All eyes move to her figure by the mention of her name. She looks at Minho, feeling a bit intimidated, but smiles to let him know she wants him to go on.

"I've never loved anyone else more than I have with you. I am aware things were not ideal but you brought the best out of me. I'm sorry I had to be the one ruining this for us. I love you still and I can only wish you the best from now on." He gives the others a last glance before raising his glass. "Thank you Changbin for hosting this year's party, and merry Christmas!"

Even though the entire room cheers and applauds in response to Minho's sweet speech, Y/N is not mentally there anymore. Her mind going wild, she can't think straight other than what Minho has said. She undeniably still loves him, more than she'd like to admit. But is she ready to let him in again?

"Hey," Deena calls her out, shaking her away from her thoughts. "You might want to figure some things out with lover boy."

Her face grows red. "You think so?"

"He just left outside to go for a walk but I'm sure he isn't too far yet. Go join him."

"I don't know..."

"Y/N, stop being in denial. You still love him, he still loves you, he obviously wants you back... Just go get him already."

Slightly intimidated by her sister, she doesn't need to be told twice to go grab her coat and boots, and walk out the door. She expected for him to be at least further away on the street but it is definitely a surprise to see him sitting down on the porch. His back facing her, she quietly approaches him and sits beside him.

There is a moment of quietness before he finally looks at her. "It's snowing."

She chuckles. "Thank you for the info, Mr. Obvious."

They share a laugh and both go back to watching the snowflakes fall. It's calm and peaceful, Minho loves it. It painfully reminds him of many occurrences where they'd watch outside the window for no reason on snow days.

"That was a good speech you just made."

He smirks. "I know."

His playful demeanor is something she doesn't remember seeing in the last moments of their relationship. It feels nice to see him back, as himself.

"What you said earlier, did you mean it?"

He frowns. "The part about regrets? Yeah, I mean, I was an ass and it didn't help me getting better so... I just know I want to fix it."

She shakes her head. "Not just that. The part about still loving me."

He moves his eyes from the snow to her own and she looks at him expectedly. She is so pure, he hates himself from even thinking he had hurt her. Carefully, he takes her hands in his and sets himself just a bit closer to her while still giving her space. He feels the sweat on his forehead, waiting for either getting rejected or getting the love of his life back. Either way, he has to say it. He's been putting it off for too long.

"I meant every word I said, I still and will always love you. How can I not? You're sensitive, smart, beautiful, and so caring. You always put me before yourself. So far, you were ready to give up your cats so I could have them because you knew I needed them."

"Minho-"

"No, you don't get to interrupt me until I'm finally done saying what I have to say. Y/N, never once did I think you were obnoxious. You see beauty in everything, something I'm incapable of doing and that's what bugged me. It bothered me how you are so perfect while I am not even close to be as loving as you are."

She scoffs with a knowing smile pending on her lips. "Now, I'll have to cut you here. You don't see yourself how I see you, Minho. Why do you think I fell in love with you in the first place? You have your own little ways of showing affection, each cuter than the other. I don't mind the rest because I know you do love me."

"I hurt you," he argues sadly.

"And I forgive you, just as long as you don't do it again," she grins, tightening her grasp on his hands.

Minho raises an eyebrow in confusion. "You forgive me... As in-"

"Don't make me say it, I have my own pride too."

Minho wipes away his tears he hadn't realized were starting to fall on his face and doesn't lose another second to bring her close to him and crash his lips onto hers. They're just like he remembered and maybe better, sweet and soft. At that point, both of them are crying. Only this time, it's not because they are hurting. So many feelings are said through the kiss and not a single one is coming from pain. It's sereine and warm, Minho can feel his whole body get lighter.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he says when they break away, holding her close to his chest. "I'm never letting you go again."

"You better," she chuckles through a sniff.

The door behind them opens wide with more than seven pairs of eyes on them. Minho blushes while Y/N hides herself in the crook of his neck.

"So we good? Everything is sorted out? Please, the food is ready and I'm starving," Jisung complains, receiving a smack from Changbin.

"You're not starving and let them have their moment!"

Jeongin sighs. "I think the moment was already ruined.

The couple, who are still sitting, explode in laughter before getting up and joining their friends in the warmth of their home where Changbin's girlfriend has selected a nice Christmas playlist to complete the ambiance. Music Minho recognizes to be Y/N's favourites. A coincidence? Probably but he likes to believe it isn't.

While the boys congratulate him for being back together with his love, Minho looks outside through the window one last time. He isn't too sure if what he sees is right but four figures seem to look at him proudly.

While nobody is watching, he mouthes a "thank you" before the silhouettes fade away in the wind.

Minho still doesn't know to this day if what happened that night was real or not. One thing for sure is he can't be any more thankful for these spirits. Most importantly, he is finally in a happy place.

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[fragmented-king]

-_Vay-Cay_-

Stolas

Naturally, Stolas was the one who came to you with the idea.

He was going through your belongings one day, totally not trying to find and steal one of your soft nice smelling hoodies.

While looking around he found an old letter depicting a snowy mountain, humans skiing down its white slopes with "Winter 2002" written in the corner.

He flipped it around to find a note written by non other then, you.

"I just went skiing with some friends. It was nice, until someone messed up and slammed into me... Now my ankle is sprained... WORTH IT! I got to drink some bomb ass hot cocoa."

Stolas knew about snow, of course. But he never had the chance to experience it for himself, and he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by.

He carefully puts it back in the envelope before continuing to look around. Next time he sees you he'll have to bring it up.

He finally finds what he came for a few seconds later. Quickly grabbing the hoodie from your bed then sprints out of your room making sure to clear any evidence he was ever there as he leaves.

Later that day he started planning a vacation for you two. Somewhere quiet, somewhere cold, somewhere snowy.

~~~~~

You're sitting on one of the many fancy couches in the palace when Stolas walks in a slight sense of worry emanating from him.

"Ahh there you are. I looked everywhere, I started to get worried after I searched your room and didn't find you or a text... I need to speak with you about something, may I sit?"

You nod and gesture to the spot next to you. He happily takes said spot and gets comfy before turning back to you.

"Dear, I've been wondering. Would you... Like to go on a vacation... With me? Everything is already planned. Transportation, protection, and food of course. All I need from you is a simple yes or no."

You sit there in silence thinking it over while he waits for your answer, he's staring a little bit.

After a moment going over it in you're head you agree, a vacation sounds nice. Even if all you do all day is laze about and receive love from a certain owl it wouldn't hurt.

~~~~~

You step through the portal, the chilly frost bitten air wasting no time trying to freeze you to your core, it fails however because of the twenty something layers Stolas made you wear.

You'll admit it's keeping you warm, but it also makes it hard to see... And walk...

You clumsily follow the owl through the snow covered mountainside eventually coming up to a grand looking cabin.

You turn to Stolas wondering if this is the place only to find him beaming at you, guess it is.

Once inside you take your time getting all the layers off while Stolas brews some hot cocoa.

By the time you're comfortable the sun starts going down. You're about to head to bed before Stolas stops you, asking you to join him for a bit.

You sit down with Stolas on two surprisingly comfortable wooden chairs, sipping hot cocoa and watching the sunset through a large wooden framed window, the high altitude of the mountain making the view more special.

It's cold and blue outside, but warm and orange inside. This really is a nice vacation. You should thank him when you're back home.

~~~~~

Stella

Convincing this avian royal to think of, non the less talk about the possibility of a ‘vacation’, is not an easy task.

It took you weeks of prying, prodding, and sometimes even begging to get Stella to consider it.

As right as it feels to congratulate yourself for getting her to consider it, only half your work is done. You still need to get her to go.

Once you finally convince her though, she goes from acting like she would never enjoy a vacation in a million years to acting like she waited forever for this.

The whiplash from her attitude's complete 180 might as well have broke your neck.

Sunscreen! Stella cannot emphasize this enough.

Your puny, spongy, soft human body will not be tainted by Earth's sun rays. And it's definitely is not just her trying to justify her rubbing your bare back, or down your sides.

She's 100% doesn't have ulterior motives, at all, why would you even say that?!

Though… If you did get sunburned, then she’d still get to rub that Aloe Vera all over you… Hmm…..

No! Your skin is far too pristine to be burned and roasted like that, no matter how tempting it is.

~~~~~

You arrive at the door to Stella's room, barely even knocking on it before it was swung open an ecstatic Stella greeting you from her well furbished room.

"There you are! I've been waiting for ages!"

She had a light blue sundress on. It hugged her curves well and you'd be lying to said you didn't stare a bit. All of that topped off with the largest wide brimmed sunhat you’ve ever seen.

You open your mouth to complement her appearance but are cut off by her dumping three giant, incredibly heavy bags in your arms.

"Let's get going, you wouldn't want to be late for our hotel reservation, now would you? And I've heard wonderful things about their wine."

Before you could so much as get a word in edgewise she starts dragging you off towards portal, all while you're struggling to get used to the weight of the bags.

While you walk she starts talking your ear off listing off all the activities she's planned for you two.

You nearly scoff at that. She's talking like she's the one who organized all of this. It's not like you spent multiple weeks planning and convincing her.

After a moment more struggling with the bags you catch up and step through the portal after her.

You're instantly hit in the face with a waft of heat, sun, and fresh ocean air. Despite the initial shock it's a nice change from the palace that you're oh so used to.

She gestures for you to follow then speed walks off towards the hotel leaving you with her bags, again. You're already tired, and you haven’t even gone to the beach yet.

~~~~~

After the workout that was getting Stella's luggage up to the room you and her finally relax on the beach together.

Not a single other person in sight. You turn to her calm but still a little confused.

"Where is everyone, an island like this should have tons of staff... Wait... Did you rent out this entire island?!"

She, not surprisingly laughed at that.

"Of course I did. I may be the prettiest girl you'll ever see but I'm still a demon. And, I thought that some alone time would be nice. No guards or servants. Just you, and me."

Mid sentence she interlocked her hand with yours while progressively getting closer. You lean forward for a kiss but feel a finger on your lips instead.

"You should know by now that you have to earn that darling. This is our first day here and you expect me to just give you whatever you want right off the bat. This may be a vacation, but that does not mean you get whatever you want instantly."

You frown and look away, it was such a romantic moment before she went and said all that. But, you're willing to work for it. You wouldn't be here sitting with her if you weren't.

~~~~~

Octavia

Good luck getting her to relax. She definitely needs it though, as this owl is stressed. I mean, she's got a lot of worries and she's a teenager, so you've got your work cut out for you.

That being said however, she's easily tricked into relaxing if you say the vacation is for you not her, and it wouldn't be the same without her there. That'll make her change her mind real quick.

Then once there, when she least expects it, you strike. Then before she knows it, she's feeling relaxed. Or at the very least a little better then before.

My professional opinion is to take her somewhere that is completely new to her, like nothing she's seen before if possible.

It'll help her forget her troubles easier. I recommend somewhere quiet with tons of greenery. And animals,

And stick around her, she wants consistency, and reliability. That mixed in with tons of quality time.

Just keep close to her if you can, try to make her have a good time, and most of all try and make it new to her.

Time away from the normal and melancholy is what she needs most.

~~~~~

You walk up to Octavia's door and knock. Nothing. You knock again. Also nothing.

You invite yourself in and see her laying on her bed staring at the ceiling, never a good sign.

You walk over and sit on the bed watching her snap out of it when the bed dips. She turns to look at you not moving much.

"Hey, you doing ok?"

She half sighs half groans then flips over to face you better.

"I'm fine."

You frown at that, 'I'm fine' is not a 'I'm actually ok' kind of answer.

"Rough day?"

"Just my parents, again... UGH WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE NORMAL! Or at least not make their problems mine."

She flops back onto her back, going back to staring at the ceiling her expression shifting constantly as her mind works through her inner turmoil.

"Alright well. Were going on a vacation tomorrow so please remember to pack."

She groans again and flips over this time facing away from you.

"Do I have to... I mean I've told you a hundred times, I don't need a vacation... I just wanna stay home..."

You frown, again. You just gotta convince her to go. You can do that...

"It isn't for you. I want a vacation. And I want you to come, cause it wouldn't be the same without you."

You two sit in silence for a few moments before she groans extra loud. You're about to ask if she's alright before she suddenly gets up and walks into her closet.

You hear things being moved around and assume she's packing. So you'll leave her be, you've have to pack too anyways.

Before you leave you walk up to the doorframe of the closet, peak your head in just so she can see it.

"I love you."

You hear her mumble something along the lines of 'luv you too' before you turn to leave.

~~~~~

You quickly step out of the limo going around to Octavia's side to open the door for her. She quickly gets out before you can.

You know she doesn't like you doing that, but you're just trying to be courteous. Like usual.

Non the less you walk over and take her hand leading her into the medium to large house with a giant glass dome connected to one end.

"I thought you'd enjoy this place. It's a house built in the early 1900's. It has a giant greenhouse with hundreds if not thousands of plant types in it. Perfect place for a week away from home, I think."

You two go inside while some servants unload your things. You start showing her around, just little interesting things you learned from the homes owner.

You walk around for a while most stuff she doesn't react to, but have one more trick left. You pull out a small, old, metal whistle and blow into it. A moment later the dog of the house come padding in.

He's a large old golden retriever named Spike, who's lived here for years. You met him a few days ago to make sure he was friendly. He was, and you know Octavia's going to love him.

You watch her expression change from overall boredom to confusion then finally to a small smile when Spike walks up to her and rests his head against her side.

She look at him for a moment, then up to you clearly a little confused. You smile at her then walk over and start scratching behind his ear.

"His favorites spots are behind the ears, base of his tail, and his toe beans. Just be careful not to tickle him, he doesn't like that."

She cautiously crouches down and starts lightly scratching him behind an ear. You make sure nothing goes wrong then take a step back letting her enjoy some doggo time.

Yeah. She definitely needed this.

~~~~~

Started by Erratic-Sanguine, Finished by @jester089

Cheers Luv, we both appreciate it.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

The Holidays are Better With You - S.Snape

Summary - The potions master and the muggle studies professor are missing during dinner on Christmas Eve. A certain cat animagus takes it upon herself to find the pair, only to find the two of them enjoying some quality time in the Astronomy Tower.

Word Count - 617

Warnings - female reader, use of Y/N, Minerva is the last one to find out a secret

Author's Note - This is a little later than I wanted but welcome to day Twelve! All of my classwork is done so I am free from college until my winter class starts. I have 8 days of freedom to try and write as much as I can so stay tuned and enjoy!

Harry Potter Masterlist

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Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

Severus Snape, even just the name of the man would send a shiver down any students’ spine. However, these students never knew the man he was deep down, the man he buried because of countless trauma and heartache. The other professors knew who he actually was because most of them taught him when he was at Hogwarts himself. What they never realized was the fact that he was absolutely smitten with the muggle studies professor.

The two had grown up together, they used to do everything together, even at Hogwarts. Both of them had been sorted into Slytherin, their housemates seeing them in the same corner of the common room more often than not. The two of them still found a way to isolate themselves in a different area, spending time together in the astronomy tower. 

As most of the students had returned home, Severus and Y/N had stayed at Hogwarts with the other professors. At dinner on Christmas Eve, Minerva had noticed that the two older Slytherins were missing, so she took it upon herself to go find them. She searched everywhere, her final spot to search was the Astronomy tower. She thought that it was a good time to transform herself into a cat so that way she could be a little more stealthy. Due to her new found stealth, she could walk quieter into the tower where she heard the voices of the two missing professors.

“It’s beautiful up here, with all the snow,” Y/N had said, turning to the man beside her.

“I hate the snow,” He had said, winding his arms around her waist, pulling her body closer to his.

“I know you do.”

Minerva quietly approached the pair watching as their lips met. She almost jumped in surprise. “I love you, Severus Snape. Happy Christmas.”

“I love you, Y/N Snape. The holidays are so much better with you,” Severus responded, taking note of a certain cat lurking by their feet, “Minerva, if you wanted to join us, you could have just asked.”

The Gryffindor transformed herself back with a grin on her face. “You’re married! I thought you had a thing for Lily Potter. I would have never guessed that you were infatuated with Y/N,” Minerva exclaimed in surprise.

“It’s always been Y/N. She knows me better than myself," he admitted.

“And he knows me better than myself,” She added in a chipper tone, just happy to be in the arms of her love and chatting with a dear friend. They stood in the tower for hours just talking, more like Minerva asking them questions about their relationship and then answering.

They talked until the moon was high in the sky, the time officially reaching midnight. “I think it’s time to call it a night. Minerva, if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend the start of the holiday with my husband. Happy Christmas and goodnight,” Y/N excused herself and her husband as they went off to his quarters. Minerva left at the top of the tower with a gentle smile on her face, feeling a sense of pride for the couple. 

The sneaky professor had too decided to turn in for the night, not before mentioning the couple to Sybil and Albus.

“I had predicted and knew about this years ago. Where have you been?” Sybil asked her friend.

“I was their witness when they got married, they needed one and asked me. I’m surprised you didn’t know Minerva. You do tend to know everything and all of the gossip,” Albus chimed in. 

“Was I the last to find out? How did I not know about them?”

“You aren’t the last, the students are.”