#been on antidepressants for like. over a year now

[ruairy]

.

[beskad]

lmao sending this image to my psych when he gets mad at me that I'm discontinuing the meds

[pearl-kite]

Like, even now that my parents both know I have adhd and they're trying to be better about it, they still 100% don't understand that the brain cannot start on some things some times. The way my mom thought all of my depression and issues with work in November were because I forgot to refill my adderall and that it would magically fix everything? Yikes

[malkaviian]

I'm feeling like shit why I am still awake

[knifegremliin]

aghhh man. i've been. doing barely any art lately.

[odysseys-blood]

betrayal from your own mother feels so. like you were supposed to protect and care for me but obviously that didnt happen so here i am now.

[andreeds]

uh oh! real depression hours on main lads!!

[kiss-me-muchoo]

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

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

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

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

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

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

____________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Actually, it wasn't, but yeah…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, you're in law too…."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you know you won't fail again.

"No."

He can feel the venom in your voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

"Yes?" You ask politely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And soon, his view of you became sided.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Darling! Something bad happened…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're also a monster.

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No…" you nod, confirming your words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it worsened when your dad interfered.

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

But none had prepared you to hide your shock.

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

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

It couldn't…

Snow walked through the tables, towards you.

No, no, no, no.

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

You swear you can't breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You see his desperate eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's officially a new year.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As you walk away, Coriolanus only feels worse.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

You look just like your father on his wedding day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She knew. Tigris had to know everything.

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

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

He's a broken man.

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

…

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

You looked like a Capitol's bride.

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

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

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

"Oh my god, my baby. You look perfect!" Your mother cries, caressing your cheeks and sobbing. You smile at her, just that.

They keep talking about the dress when you hear a knock followed by the door of the room opening.

"Is there any time for this old woman to see the bride?" Tigris smiles at her grandmother, inviting her to join.

"There's only ten minutes left. Everyone hurry!" Your mother says. They exaggerate, only Tigris gives you one last retouch, and hands you the bouquet. With white roses and some lilies scattered.

She kisses your cheek and smiles deeply.

"It's gonna be fine. I swear…" and with that, she leaves.

Grandma'am only looks at you with love. She always liked you for his grandson. And she believed love floated around you two. For the record, she said it two weeks ago in a rehearsal you had.

"I knew it from the first day my little Coriolanus came home rambling about you" she smiles.

"And from that day, it always had been you, my dear. Even today… always saying you are the love of his life" Your eyes water. Coriolanus wouldn't lie to his grandma about something like that. He could lie about killing someone but not about something he knew would make her happy.

"He did?" You ask as she takes your hand.

"Of course. I know I'm old, and I can't tell he has committed some errors. But I know those blue always are so in love with you, my child" That couldn't be.

"Do you love him?" You won't cry. But you're fighting the lump in your throat.

"I do. Ever since the first day…" you admit.

Maybe you would always resent the man you were going to marry. But you would always love the memory of the boy you once had.

"Promise me you will make him happy, dear. He has so little when we lost everything once. Take care of him. Give him a family, that's all I ask" You can't say no to her. You just can't.

"I promise." She hugs you. And you swallow the lump, looking at the door.

…

The moment had arrived. The doors opened, the music started and everyone turned back to see you entering by the hand of your father.

Sounds of shock, admiring, and more are very low but noticeable.

For Coriolanus, it's only you. Your hair was like when you met him. The dress is so perfect. Your makeup too. And he promises to keep the image of you in his mind for the rest of his life.

He genuinely smiles. And you are feeling so confused. Could his grandmother have been telling the truth?

Coriolanus actually loved you? The way he had been smiling and treating you for the past months. Had he really been feeling sorry?

Would you forgive him if that was the case?

You can't tell because your father has dropped you at the altar.

You didn't even feel his kiss on the head and promised good luck.

You just feel Snow taking your hand. It's warm, even soft for his calloused hands.

And you can't turn to see him.

There are many people taking pictures of you and him.

Everyone loved the Capitol's Dream Girl and her handsome wealthy fiancé ever since the engagement.

When you last expected it, you are officially Mrs. Snow.

"You may kiss the bride…" you know he's doubting. But there's no time, so you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.

It takes him aback, but soon, his hands find that damn spot, in your hips. And it doesn't feel wrong, for some reason.

You just see him and you realize he's your man now.

Neither of you can understand the emotions flowing at the moment. You like seeing him smiling at you like that, but you also feel sad. And he loves the way you look, he feels so attached to you.

In other words, both feel like it was real. But both knew the truth.

You don't dare to eye any of your family or friends as you leave by the hand of your now husband.

…

The reception was just as big as the ceremony. With the most elegant music, food of all kinds, and a varied menu.

Your husband has chosen to give the option of fish florentine, mentioning to you that his uncle used to get the best food from District 4 before the war.

For you, it was fried steak with three types of cheese and coated with mushroom cream.

There's a picture for everyone. You and Snow enter the party. Your father says a little speech about how much of a great marriage you would have.

You dance with your baby cousins. Lucky Flickerman was able to ask about your dress and possible honeymoon location.

You ignore your husband for the rest of the night. Only when the cake has to be sliced. It's a 5 layer cake, covered in white and very little baby pink roses. Snow and you agreed to make it white chocolate with raspberries and cream.

He cleans some cream from your cheek, and before you can even think about it, you laugh.

He danced with you but you only decided to hear his heartbeats, instead of seeing him. It made you understand that lonely days were over. But at what cost?

…

That night, you are already seeing the mountains and green woods covered in white at the top. You sigh, looking at the metallic silk nightgown. You didn't want the traditional white or pink silk gown. This was short, offered some cleavage, it shined in orange and pink tones when it was supposed to be lavender.

During the whole hour trip to the residence of the honeymoon, you didn't say anything to him.

When you come out of the bathroom, he's sitting at the edge of the bed. A dark grey robe on him and you wonder if he was naked too.

Ignoring him, you go to the giant vanity in front of the bed.

You try to focus on the plenty of assignments you'll have after the honeymoon. With less than three months before the next games, your water mutts had already killed a person. Gaul only laughed and insisted on you to feed the beasts with the corpse.

Little did everyone know that on the Reaping day, District 12 people would receive a tiny stain of liquid Mercury on their ballot. Within months of inhaling that thing, they would be sick. It was your revenge for the revolt in the mines that almost killed your father.

But for now, you can only feel his eyes on you. Like the first day of school. You know he wants to touch you. He wants to claim you as his wife. But he doesn't have the right.

So he stays seated, hoping you will make the first move.

Ignoring the way your heart beats, wanting to feel something. Your heart was blind, thinking you could make love with Coriolanus.

Once you have finished with your facial cream. You turn off the light. Only the balcony offered some glimpses.

You step between his legs, hands on his shoulders. The smell of tobacco leaf and vanilla bean perfume hits him, making him gulp. Unsure whether to touch you or not.

"Wait, y/n… Are you-… Are you sure?" He asks, unsure of what is happening. He kind of thanked you for turning off the lights. That way you couldn't see how blushed he was. After all, this was going to be his first time. After actual years of desiring you, he gets to have you for the rest of his life.

Then you lean, inches away from his lips.

" I don't want to hear you" and you don't say more, neither does he. In the darkness, he finds your lips and there's plenty of time to kiss you slowly. With wet sounds, your hands fly to his hair. Making him moan for the first time. It shouldn't be turning you on. But it is, so you slightly move your head, and maybe he understood, 'cause he started kissing your jaw, soon your neck.

He feels you pulling out the nightgown, and it's making him so fucking hard.

You kiss him again and he's free to wander across your naked body. Now his…

It's his first time, just like it is yours. So when he tries to touch you past your lower belly, you guide him.

Softly making him slide his fingers across your wet folds. You moan and he thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard in his life. He knows you are skilled even when it's also your first time. He knows because of your timing, the way you swayed your hips any time you walked, and the way you balanced touching him and moaning at the same time.

Before you, he rarely touched himself or thought about sex. But soon after kissing you for the first time, he would hate himself for thinking how you would look underneath the Academy uniform.

And now, there you were, naked, taking his virginity as you slowly rode him. You swear he has to be big enough to be able to feel him and his details inside you. The pacing was so soft yet hard. Soft because of your slick, hard because of the pleasure.

All you could hear was his sighs, but the stars of the night were your moans and little yelps for him. No words exchanged, just the sound of your desire and his response.

And when you start going faster, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, he was over the edge to say it. But he couldn't.

Your first time should've been with him on top. Tigris said it was traditional. But he let you take the lead, and it was turning out better. You even let him paint your walls with his cum. You let him kiss and suck your nipples as he felt the last spasms of his climax, prolonged by the way you squeezed him.

Even with the silence, both of you knew. It was the hardest and best orgasm of your life.

…

At the outsides of The Capitol, there's an office. All University students needed to submit their petition to graduate two years prior to the ceremony. Gaul demanded you and Snow to go as soon as you returned from the honeymoon.

Now, two months married, you feel slightly lighter. You talked a little bit more with him. Breakfasts were quiet but peaceful. At the University he always tried to protect you.

The news was all about the wedding. Saying it was the event that officially marked the end of the war. People loved you and encouraged your husband to pursue a political party to start campaigns, hoping to win the presidency. As for you, rumors had spread that you were going to be the next game maker of Panem. Evenings were to study and go for some walks. And most of the nights you repeated the same formula. Ending up tangled in your bed with the darkness reigning.

You couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.

Coriolanus Snow was still cold, serious, a man of few but harsh words. But to you, he seemed warm. Like if fucking him had made him switch and now he was eating out from the palm of your hand.

Still, you still felt like the past was haunting you. With memories of the last games and the moment you lost your lovely blonde guy.

"It's done," Snow says coming out of a private office. The green tiles stop being attractive to your eye, making you blink twice to stare at your husband.

He's yours, just like you wanted. With his perfect eyes, perfect smile, hair, body, and dream life.

You sigh with relief. He had insisted on submitting both papers to soothe you from stress.

"We are likely to receive a letter next year. The woman said it was basically approved for us…" you nod. He offers you a sweet smile, that you can't help but reply.

He offers you his arm to take, ready to leave the office.

Lately, Coriolanus has been worried for you. The antidepressant treatment was over, but you were under pressure because you had created the arena and strategies for the 11th Hunger Games. People debated your capacity and ideals. And he knew that would stress you.

He was patiently trying to make you feel comfortable on his side. To make you feel again like you said in the interview with Flickerman.

"Thank you." You say to him.

"Of course."

After taking the elevator, you two are ready to walk out. Until there's a loud explosion near. You exchange looks with your husband, and as he squeezes your hand tighter, what feels like another explosion makes you and Snow fly away.

When he opens his eyes, the building is literally on fire. He reacts quickly, realizing there has been another bombing.

He's okay, just his neck hurts, but there's no blood. It's you who's worrying him a lot.

He calls your name but you don't respond.

Through the ashes and hazes of dust, he looks out for you.

A few feet away, you are coughing, lying on the ground.

He runs and kneels beside you.

"Y/n, please. Can you hear me?" You nod slowly, barely moving.

"I-can't breathe…" Snow sees how your nose bleeds and there are some glasses making your arm shake a little. The sleeve of your cardigan is drenched in blood.

He panics and goes into a full panic attack. Not even when he was in the arena and got hurt. He truly feared losing you.

"I'm taking you out of here" he looks around and notices there's no one around.

He carries you, doing his best to run out of the increasing fire.

"I don't want to die, Coriolanus" you gasp, trying to breathe. He looks down at you, now looking at the dirt in your face.

"You won't die, love. Just calm down and breathe" In fact he knows you could die. But he refuses to accept it as he finds the exit of the building.

There's chaos on the streets.

And in the middle of the disaster, he starts asking for help.

"Please… I need an ambulance for my wife!" He pleads to some people who seem to be helping a group of kids.

A woman listens and calls for a man.

"Help is coming, y/n. Do not close your eyes" The rush in him impeded him from crying. Because he was so freaked out.

"Mr. Snow, I'm a doctor. I'll help your wife get into a hospital" A middle-aged man gets closer, inspecting your face. You can't hear anything. Your eyes close by themselves, and you still feel so out of breath.

It's the sound of the ambulance that works as a lullaby and makes you pass out.

…

It's uncertain. But reliable sources said it was a direct target from rebel allies, a direct target to you. Because the next game maker needed to be erased from Panem before she could even start. Snow is shockingly angered. And he adds another point to his hate for rebellion.

"I won't quit." You affirm from the hospital bed. Your mother frowns.

"I don't think you're understanding the seriousness of this situation, y/n" she suggests, to which your father also nods.

The door opens and Coriolanus enters, hurried to inspect you.

"Are you Okay? The doctor said it wasn't that bad but-" you smile, caressing his shoulder.

"I'm fine. Just inhaled too much smoke. And my arm, but that's it" You show him your left arm covered in gazes.

He kisses your forehead.

"I was so afraid," he whispers in your ear.

And maybe it was all about your emotions after the shocking day. But you finally feel it. You love him. And the way he had acted since the engagement made you believe he could possibly feel the same. But you aren't sure.

"I won't quit. That would only give the rebels a point. I will make this games memorable. And nobody in Panem will ever question my methods" Your words shouldn't have made your husband proud. But it does.

"You're so right, dear," he says, making you smile nervously.

…

You are allowed to leave the hospital that night. And the whole ride, you have to fight the tears. You can't take it anymore.

As soon as you get inside your room. Coriolanus starts running the tub to clean you up.

You get on your knees. Your throat already feels as if you were choking. He spots you on your carpet, looking so vague and lost.

"Please, Coriolanus." He's watching you carefully. And by your face, he feels you are about to say something from the bottom of your heart.

"What? Are you in pain?" He asks scared, kneeling in front of you. You don't answer and that terrifies him. Until you do.

"Tell me you are in love with me. Just once, doesn't matter if you never say it again for the rest of my life. If you mean it, say you love me." Tears start flowing, your face turns red, and Coriolanus can't help but feel vulnerable by seeing like that.

"Because if you say you only insisted on marrying me because of the money, and my father's position… I'm gonna hate you till the day I die. For all you did to me and everything that could've been" he has to close his eyes. To not see you as a tear falls without a warning from his left eye. He has to decide. Is he going to break his promise? He said he couldn't love anyone again. But you weren't new. You were the first. She was the last.

Coriolanus wished to be your boyfriend soon after meeting you. And from waiting for the right moment to ask, he ended up ruining everything for his ambition. From believing she was different, that she was worth it. Ignoring all the pain he caused to you.

And until that moment he realized he had almost obligated you to marry him.

He already had what he wanted. The money and his power were growing, and he had the girl.

Crying on her knees in front of him. Asking him to end her pain. Just by loving her after all the pain he caused her.

Slowly, he reaches for your face. Your sobs became almost silent. Your heart was beating so fast. And if Coriolanus didn't speak now, you would end up having a second mental breakdown.

But he caressed your cheeks. And he traced your face. Where your scar should've been. New waves of tears fall as you feel what he's doing. Only making shut your eyes harder.

"Look at me, y/n" you can't. You're not ready to hear him saying he used you once again.

"I can't." You whisper, sobbing. He decided then to grab you by the waist. Being so gentle, made you feel like two years ago when he was still your lover.

He placed you carefully on the bed. Making you hide your face against the pillows, ruining the white satin with your makeup.

He doesn't care. He just wants to be honest. Real. He's still young. Coriolanus knows he can't live the rest of his life married to you, making you believe he never loved you.

Only you would be able to see who he really was. Even if he ended up having children with you someday. He would never love them like you.

He could be cold and his decisions would be considered cruel. But the only person on earth that would judge him was going to be you.

"Please look at me, y/n" he caresses your cheek, smiling softly. Slowly, you sit, facing him finally.

You can see your old and sweet Coriolanus with the smile he's giving you. And it only makes you cry and cry again.

"I love you."

You stop. Hiccuping, you look perplexed at him.

He's still smiling.

You know he killed two people, probably three.

You'd never know he sent Sejanus to be hanged.

You know he's not the best person.

You'd never know he had a letter he was going to send to you before going to District 12.

You know he caused you so much pain.

And yet you thought you'd never hear him saying those three words.

"I made you suffer. I ruined everything. You know what I did just by looking at my eyes. How can we love each other after all?" You shrug. Trying to control yourself and answer him properly.

"Maybe because we never got the chance to make it real." He chuckles, taking your hand.

"You know I also did cruel things this year." He nodded, having no right to judge you. He wondered if you did all of that from rage, for everything that happened.

"And I still believe you deserve the world, Capitol's dream girl…" he makes you laugh. Out of embarrassment from the silly nickname Flickerman gave you.

"My father was a bad man, and yet, he always treated my mom right. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I will never hurt you again" You brush his hair. Dishevelling it in the process, making him look like a year ago.

"Promise me. Just you and I, getting each other's back" he says. And you know you'll go to hell for being with him. But he was the love of your life.

"Just you and I, my love" he smiles again.

"I'll make you First Lady of Panem one day. It'll fit better for your current nickname" you roll your eyes.

"What will we do with that much power?" He stares deeply into your eyes. You changed his hair, and he hoped he could still see the scar on your face. But it was gone. Just like the girl he met two years ago. So was the boy he was. But it was okay. Because he'd make you be like him. And nothing would matter more than you and him.

"Everything, dear" you smile. And feeling like teenagers again, both lean at the same time to kiss. Like it was the first time.

"Can I?…" he asks on your lips. You nod, hugging from his neck.

He kisses you finally. Soft, slow but demanding.

And you remember you made it. Your husband would have the power, but you just won control.

And for the next two weeks, during summer break, Coriolanus and you spent your days in District 1. Spending the days eating in the best restaurants, visiting museums, and swimming in private pools. Spending the nights exploring each other for the first time. He marked you his and you marked him yours. Watching the moon and forgetting about the university, moving into a new house, letting the past die.

Maybe the memory of Lucy Gray Baird would haunt Coriolanus for the rest of his life, but you were going to be there to turn it into haze. And maybe you would never forget the pain of losing thanks to him, but he would paint your days golden. He would be a good husband who would make it up each day.

…

The first day of your second year of University started differently. Coriolanus refused to learn to drive and refused to let you do it. But you convinced him it was okay.

You left home together. And arrived together on campus. Went through the stairs holding hands.

"Look, it's The Capitol's trendiest couple" Persephone, an old classmate from the Academy but also a new friend said. Festus, Clemmie, and other new friends were there, laughing and making fun of you and Coriolanus.

And you blushed. Abruptly stopping your steps. Your husband turned to see you.

"Everything is fine?" You nod, smiling.

"I just… This is exactly how I wanted to begin University last year" It made his heart clench.

"Only… he's missing it" Like a needle taking him aback, Coriolanus knew what you meant.

"He'd hate what we have become though" It's bad, but you laugh.

"You're right, dear" you agree with your husband.

"But happy for us…" he adds, and you nod. Grabbing his arm to finally enter the building.

Soon, two peacekeepers call you to Gaul's office, just like last year. She's not there. But there's a letter on her desk.

You exchange looks with Coriolanus. He tilts his head and follows you to the desk. Carefully, he grabs the envelope and opens it.

Students, as the summer ends, I hope you had a pleasant summer.

Congratulations on your success after the games, Mr and Mrs. Snow.

Given the circumstances of Dean Highbottom's death last year, I won't be able to begin with the preparation for the 12th Hunger Games.

I believe you two have gained enough knowledge to start without me.

You'll find materials in the backroom of my principal laboratory. You'll find it quite interesting.

Make me proud and you two will be the first and automatic option to replace me in a couple of years.

And keep in mind what I always ask. What are the games for?

Dr. Volumnia Gaul

No words are exchanged after reading the letter. Coriolanus only nods to you, agreeing to the message.

So you go to the principal laboratory. It's clean and the sound of different animals is the only sound inside.

There are two long tables, and it's obvious, that there are at least six corpses covered in white blankets.

When you pull away the blanket, you gasp in shock.

The corpses that were once humans now seemed a mix of animals.

Until you see what it is.

"Coryo. These are the corpses of the death tributes" You are shocked. He was also surprised.

"The mutt bite… transformed them?" Slowly, you nod. He hands you some gloves and a face mask

"Every year I end up creating something more vile" you admit touching the slimy skin of the corpses, turning dark and the human face blemished. Only a girl from District 4 had won Mags. A lot of people loved her. But the cheer wasn't very loud, thank you and your marriage.

"These were also the people who probably agreed on the bombs. They hate us, y/n" he's right.

"They need a yearly reminder that war is over. That we won and that you won't give up" You turn to face him. There's the anger and hate you disliked about him. But now you have plenty of reasons to agree with him.

"They deserve this."

"You're right"

He sees you making some tests to study the altered DNA and smiles. He was so fucked up.

"Don't stare, silly. Come here and help me. There's a lot to do" you say playfully. So he smirks mockingly and starts helping you.

"Maybe we could have some resting after this" he suggests, you laugh.

"Here? With deformed corpses? I don't think so, dear"

"Not here. We can go to the private ladies' room." Sometimes you made fun of him for having the kind of a pervert teenager. Ever since you decided to make up with him, Coriolanus and you were the biggest switching couple in the history of sex.

"Oh, my goodness. Can you behave for once, Mr. Snow?" You ignore him, sealing some glass containers with pieces of skin, fluids, and more from the corpses.

"You know what? Forget it. We haven't done it in the upper living room, or the library. Yeah, I can wait." Brushing past him, you laugh.

"I swear I will turn you into a mutt if you don't shut up, Coryo" both of you laugh. And Coriolanus feels happy. He thinks he has your back. He finally won.

He won the money, the fame, and the power was growing. And he won the girl.

…

It was already dark when you were done doing the practices at the University. Coriolanus helps you with your coat and bag as you make your way to the car.

"After you, dear" he indicates that you should sit first. So you do, and after you start the car, you turn to see him.

He has rebellious hair hanging on his forehead. He lets you brush his hair and smiles, relaxing after a long day.

There's time to catch your lips and kiss you deeply. Hands on your hips as usual and yours tangled in his hair. Even after brushing it.

"Do you think she'll notice?" He asks agitated, breathing unevenly. You giggle, fixing your dark purple lipstick through the mirror of the car.

"She gave us six bodies, but seven doesn't make much difference. Right?" He smiles too, even giggling a bit.

"I can't wait to take a shower," he admits.

"I can't wait for you to take me to bed after shower" Before you make it outside of campus, he kisses you again, squeezing your inner thigh, almost making you moan.

"Me neither…"

___________________________

Taglist: @sarnbarnes @user0440822 @poppyflower-22 @h-l-vlovesvintage @zxrcle @gloryekaterina @dakotali @especiallythewomenandthechildren @mymadokamagica @drvnkn-dazed

In my head… this was the wedding dress<3

[raeathnos]

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[orphicdreamers-wp]

It’s Not Christmas Without You— Quinn Hughes

Summary: Your seasonal depression gets the best of your relationship leading to an awkward Christmas

Content Warnings: Seasonal depression, panic & anxiety attacks, use of antidepressants, ocd, chemical imbalance, angsty hughes brothers

Pairing; Ex Gf! Reader x Quinn Hughes

September

You had never quite understood why your brain felt so hardwired to the point you couldn’t comprehend anything happening around you. It affected everything you did, but no one could put their finger on why sometimes things got to be much for you it brought you to tears. For the most part, your boyfriend Quinn tried to help you but when the weather in Vancouver shifted just as he’d been named captain. He just couldn’t do it anymore, he tried but it was draining him.

You sat cross legged in the center of Quinn’s living room, reorganizing his CD collection for the third time this week. Quinn sighed as he entered his apartment, coming home from a rough roadie, all he wanted was to take a scorching shower and talk to you while you guys laid in his bed watching a cheesy movie. He didn’t utter a word as he walked past to his room and dropped his stuff off before returning to his living room and letting out a sigh, “The CDS haven’t magically moved since Tuesday dollface.”

You ignored your boyfriend, again. Quinn blew out a breath he’d been holding in for god knows how long, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He expected you to protest against him trying to break up with him, but you didn’t. Which somehow made Quinn more upset at the entire ordeal, “So your fine with just throwing away the last 6 years?” You kept quiet, knowing that if you dared to speak you would say something that you and Quinn couldn’t come back from. So you stayed silent as you stood up and slipped on your shoes and grabbed your coat and walked out of Quinn’s apartment and his life.

You returned to your shared loft with your friend Tess and finally let your composure fall. A wretched sob ripped through your chest as you leaned against the door and slid to sit against the wall. Tess hurried out of her bedroom and was at your side in seconds, “Oh honey. It’s okay.” You felt like someone was wrapping barbed wire around your throat, “I can’t, I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. Something isn’t right Tess.” Your breathing began to quicken as your chest tightened. Tess rubbed your back reassuringly, “I got you.” You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. Once you were calm you turned to Tess, “Quinn and I broke up. I think I need to go home and get help.” And that was exactly what you did.

You went back to Toronto and moved back into your childhood bedroom, went to a neurologist and found out that your brain had an insufficient amount of neurotransmitters which could play part in your moods. The doctor told you that you needed to boost your serotonin and dopamine levels and prescribed you antidepressants and referred you to a women’s mental health clinic. You noticed slowly that your mood became less negative and you were able to focus better. But you also noticed that you began to get thinner and no matter what you did it never seemed like you gained weight.

December

You were reluctant to go to the Hughes Christmas dinner, although Ellen had reassured you that you were more than welcome. You still had your bad days and didn’t know if being around Quinn would make you snap and you didn’t want to snap at him. So you told your mother you’d think about it but that she should go. Which she did. You mother and Ellen were in grossed in a conversation over linens when Luke finally mentioned you, “So I guess she really doesn’t have anything to say to you Quinn. She would never miss out on Dad’s meatballs.” Quinn shot his brother a glare as your mother spoke softly, “She’s just having a hard time right now, her meds are messing with her.” Ellen smiled solemnly, “How is she adjusting to her antidepressants?”

Quinn looked taken aback learning your on antidepressants now, “Is she okay?” Your mom smiled as she lifted her wine glass to her lips, “Her doctor told her she doesn’t have sufficient neurotransmitters and it’s a chemical imbalance in her brain that’s made her feel like this all these years. The doctor said there’s a good chance coupled with the harsh weather and seasonal depression that’s what made her feel so poorly. Nothing you could have done would have helped Quinn.” Jack rolled his eyes subtly, “So because she’s mentally not okay, we’re supposed to be fine with her destroying Quinn?” Ellen glared at her middle child, “Jack! If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say sit.”

You stared at the stack of wrapped gifts you had gotten for each member of the Hughes family. You sighed as you slid off the couch and pulled on a dark red sweater and some jeans and took the gifts to your car and made your way to the Hughes family home. You were unsure of what would happen when you walked in but you were facing your fears today. You rang the doorbell, not expecting Quinn to be on the other side of the door.

His eyes held an unreadable expression that you had grown to miss. You were almost positive that you had lost your voice when he spoke, “Hey.” You smiled, “Hi, you look uh great.” Quinn rubbed his neck as a deep blush rolled over his cheeks, “Thanks. You do too.” He took some of the gifts as you I walked inside the house and placed your gifts with the rest of the gifts under the tree. You slipped your coat off and hung it in the closet with the others. Quinn frowned ever so slightly when he took note of how the jeans that had once hugged your body in all the right places were loose on you and how you looked at him like you might break if you looked at him long enough.

Ellen’s voice rang out from the dining room, “Who was it honey?” You smiled warmly as you entered the dining room behind Quinn, “Hi.” Ellen’s eyes glimmered with excitement as she hopped up and pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “We’re so glad you could make it after all. Right guys?” The Hughes men muttered out agreements. You sat down at the only empty seat which, as the universe was punishing you, was directly across from Jack with Quinn sitting beside you. Conversation flowed between you and everyone besides Jack and Quinn.

Jack spoke up in condescending tone, “So Y/N what have you been up to since you and Quinn broke up?” Jack let out a groan as Quinn swiftly kicked him underneath the table. You felt your smile drop, “I moved back home like 3 days after. I’ve been getting a lot of help. Working on understanding my feelings.” Jack hummed, “Seeing anyone? You sure are slimming down.” You tensed as you drew in a deep breath, “Nope. Wouldn’t be fair to a poor guy. I’m still in love with someone and I’m not sure relationships are for me. But can we just talk about your game against the Red Wings? I mean I was on my seat the entire time.”

Jack’s smirk fell, “You still watch my games?” You shrugged, “I watched Trev kick your ass. I also watched Quinn hand the Sharks the biggest loss. I didn’t stop watching hockey because I got broken up with.” You melted into Quinn’s touch as he placed a hand on your thigh. He mouthed inaudibly, ‘Thank you’ Dinner ended and Ellen insisted on going straight to presents. You smiled warmly as Jack and Luke opened their gifts from you. You You played more into a joke with Jack. It was a shirt that read ‘Straight Outta The Penalty Box.’ Jack’s gift sent his brother’s into laughter while Jack sent you a playful eye roll, “Now I know she actually watches my games still.” Luke’s gift seemed to be more fitting for him, he opened the box and ran his fingers over the soft tie that was adorned with red hockey sticks, “Thank you.” You smiled as Quinn picked up his gift from you, “I didn’t know what to get you so with my luck you’ll probably hate it.”

Quinn opened the box and his eyes softened as he looked at the gift, “You remembered. Why would I hate this?” He pulled out the large cooling weighted blanket. You barely remembered him mentioning wanting one. Apparently your subconscious remembered. Quinn’s eyes softened as you began to tidy up the wrapping paper as everyone continued to open gifts.

Without being noticed Quinn slipped into his childhood bedroom and opened his bag and pulled out a small gift wrapped box. He slipped it into his pocket and returned to the living room. His eyes immediately were on you as you clasped a necklace around his mother’s neck. Soon enough all the gifts were opened and Quinn spoke warmly, “I actually have a gift for you Y/N.” Your eyes widened, “O-okay.” Quinn slipped the small box from his pocket and placed it in your hand. By the size alone you knew it was jewelry of some sort.

You opened the box and your eyes widened and swelled with tears, “You can’t. Not with how horrible I was to you.” Quinn shook his head, “No I can. I have loved you since I have known you. I don’t care if your going through the worst thing possible. I love you and I just wanna be there for you no matter what. For the rest of my life. I want to be your husband. Marry me.” Your eyes welled, “I don’t know if I can give you the life you want Quinn.” Quinn shook his head as he pulled you closer to him, which you didn’t think was humanly possible, “The life I want is waking up to you pressing your ice cold feet to my legs to warm them up, the life I want is holding your purse so you can stop and pet every stray cat you see. The life I want is anytime and everything as long as you are there. You are the one good thing in my life.” You sniffled, “Fine I’ll marry you.”

[ironstrange1991]

Starting Over

Paring: Tony!Stark x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Synopsis: Tony Stark is the best friend you can have when you're struggling with depression.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and medications, depression, social isolation, suicidal thoughts (in the fic they appear in some ironic and deprecatives thoughts).

A/N: I'm not going to pretend I wasn't writing about myself in this fic, you're all too smart not to realize that. It's been difficult days, weeks, months and writing this fic has helped me in a way. There is a lot of angst but also some fluff moments. Hope you guys like it.

You were stuck. In life, in love, at work. The whole world seemed to be spinning, running, happening and you were just there, standing, motionless looking through the window, stuck in gravity.

You were depressed. Not just sad or down, but really depressed. After fighting depression for years, taking every type of antidepressant there was and not being able to get out of that state, you simply stopped trying. Depression was part of your personality now and you wore it almost like a battle trophy, a victory flag that you brandished as if to say: I survive.

Surviving became the thing you were best at. A true prodigy when the subject was to endure. You withstood the strong winds of life, endured through each wave of catastrophe, and remained. Even if inside you were falling apart.

To fall apart. What a funny way to say it. To actually fall apart it was necessary that, in principle, you had risen up at some point. That somehow, even if just for a little while, you had managed to let go of that sad and pitiful state, but that wasn't what happened. You never made it out. Once you got close, but the doors closed before you got through them. The sun set before you could finally reach it just like in that Marilyn Manson song. The same song that played on repeat now through your tv speakers as you sat on your couch in your small apartment on a Friday night after getting home from work. Your cat, Sebastian, sleeping lazily next to you on the couch, completely oblivious to your problems. You liked watching him sleep, he calmed you just by existing and you envied his innocence.

God, you hated Fridays. To be honest, there wasn't a day you liked when in fact you hated being alive. But Fridays were oppressive. They were like a reminder that the world was a living, breathing thing where things happened and you were on the outside, never a part of it.

On Fridays you would hear the conversations of your coworkers talking about the parties they were going to, the dates with their crushes, the family dinners, the happy hours with friends. You once heard a colleague saying that weekends are made for enjoying your family and you wondered if you would feel better if you had a family to run to.

All these fruitless and cursed inquiries would arrive on Fridays like an unwanted visitor and weigh on your chest as soon you close the door behind you and contemplate the emptiness of your apartment. Of your life.

I should get another cat. You would think every Friday night and ended up on the couch, like now, with a bottle of wine, a clonazepam pill, and the vain hope that one day maybe things could change or that one day you just wouldn't wake up on the next Saturday morning. The second option would always bring a sadistic smile to your lips.

Flirting with death again, Y/n. Why do you always end up on this couch flirting with death?!

You were distracted by your own thoughts, immersed so deep in them that the very air around you seemed thick and unbreathable when you heard the sound of the doorbell. You froze for a moment scared by the intrusion. The sound, which you weren't at all used to, sent a shiver down your spine.

There was only one person in the world who had access to your apartment, one person in the world who you trusted enough to give your address, your phone number, your friendship. And this person unfortunately had a too busy life to spend time with you. Even if he tried very hard.

However, contrary to everything you knew to be true, when you opened the door, he was the one standing there, dressed in jeans and a hoodie with the hood pulled to hide the majority of his face and a pair of sunglasses, although it was night. Tony Stark.

"What...?" You started to say, but were interrupted.

"Are you going to let me in or am I going to have to stand here and risk being recognized by one of your weird neighbors?"

You opened the door for him to enter and closed it behind you, still amazed that he was there in the first place.

You and Tony met at one of his science fairs. You worked for a technology company and he offered you a scholarship because he was enchanted by one of your creations. The rest was history. Well, in fact the rest was the only real friendship you had or have in your life, not counting the financial help that ensured you continued paying your rent when the company you worked for went bankrupt and you were fired.

"I've sent you at least ten messages all day. And I've tried calling you a thousand times." He ranted looking at you as if looking for something. "I thought you’ve died or worse."

"What could be worse than dying?" You asked, your voice sounding as monotonous as your life.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't respond, returning to where he had left off.

"What I'm trying to say is that I was worried about you. The last time we spoke you didn't seem well and that was two weeks ago."

You sighed, sitting down and he pushed Sebastian to the side so he could sit next to you. The old cat seemed to glare at him before getting off the couch and starting to lick the exact spot where Tony touched him.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry about the messages, I didn't know what to reply and I didn't see the calls because the cell phone is on do not disturb mode."

Tony sighed. "What's going on? Aren't the medicines working? Is there a problem at work?"

You shrugged. "Same as always. And I'm not taking medication, you'd know that if you read my latest messages, which you haven't done in the last week."

He didn't seem satisfied with your answer. "Why the hell did you stop the meds, Y/n? You  just said they were helping!"

You shrugged. "For the first few weeks. Then they stopped working like all the others. Plus, they don't let me cry. It's a strange feeling."

Tony ran a hand over his face. "Isn't this a good thing?"

"Not really. They don't take the sadness away, Tony, they just don't let me cry it away."

He stared at the TV sighing. "I'm sorry I didn't respond to your messages. I was away. I just got back."

You nodded. "Out of the country?"

"Out of the planet." He said with a shrug "Alien threat, long story. The short version is that I was there leading a team and we won. The earth is saved again. I saved your life again, I'll send you the bill later."

You smirked "As far as it's up to me, you don't need to bother anymore."

Tony made a face, analyzing you closely, but didn't say anything.

"Why are you here, Tony? Really. Don't tell me you were just passing by because you have no reason to come to this side of town."

He sighed. "I'm worried about you. I dreamed about you last night. It was bad, really bad. It made me think..."

You frowned, waiting for him to continue, but instead he pulled you into a tight hug like he was afraid of losing you. You were surprised at first, but then you hugged him back and that feeling, the human touch, was enough to make you start crying.

"It’s okay." Tony whispered in your ear. "You can cry. I'm here, now."

And you cried. In a way you hadn't cried in a long time. All the feelings pent up inside your chest seemed to overflow and you felt relief, almost as if you had carried something heavy in your arms for a long time and could finally let go.

When the torrent of tears finally stopped you pulled away hugging your knees and feeling a little embarrassed, but Tony somehow always knew how to deal with every situation in such a natural way. Sometimes you would catch yourself looking at him and thinking how you could be so lucky to have him as a friend. Good things didn't usually happen to you, but Tony was an exception.

"Can we turn this thing off or at least find something decent to listen to?" He said while searching for the remote.

"Anything but your old man bands." You responded finding the strength somewhere to tease him. He rolled his eyes, finally finding the remote and turning off the TV.

He made himself comfortable on the couch and leaned his face in his hand, staring at you and simply said it. "I want you to come live with me."

And before you could show any reaction, he continued explaining himself.

You shook your head in disbelief. "Tony, you're not responsible for me. We're friends, that's all."

"I have more rooms available in that tower than I have people living in them. Besides, it would make things a lot easier for me. It's hard to keep an eye on you when you live on the other side of town."

He seemed to completely disagree. "It's what I do. I care about the people I love. Please, just... consider it." He ran his hands over his face again. "This is my way of saying I care about you, Y/n."

You sighed heavily. The idea of ​​no longer needing to pay rent was tempting, but on the other hand, what would you do in that place? You would feel like a fish out of water.

"I don't know, Tony. I'm not your superpowered friends, I have nothing to do there."

He stood up looking around and heading towards the cubicle that was your kitchen, somehow completely ignoring your answer. "Have you had dinner?" He asked rummaging through your fridge and grimacing. "Y/n there's no food in here. It doesn't even look like there's a human being living in this place."

You shrugged. "There's enough."

He opened the freezer, rummaging through the packages of frozen food. "For God's sake, is this what you're feeding on?"

You sighed, slightly irritated by the intrusion. "Tony, fresh food is expensive."

He closed the refrigerator, took out his cell phone and typed quickly. "Well, I guess we'll go for pizza tonight. Do you like Pepperoni?"

You weren't hungry, but you nodded anyway, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. Tony might be the smartest person you knew, but he was as stubborn as a mule.

He sat back down next to you. "If you need money just tell me."

You rolled your lips. The idea of ​​asking Tony for money was always in the back of your head, but since you got your job you stopped accepting his help and didn’t want to give in to the temptation again. "I don't want to overstep the boundaries of our friendship. Besides, that would put me again in an uncomfortable position, Tony..."

"Then come work for me. Okay, sorted. I need someone with your skills..."

You rolled your eyes "Do you need someone to create software for you?"

He smirked, "Okay, you got me. But, we can think of something."

You sighed, the corners of your mouth turning up in a smile. Tony was so sweet, you could see an herculean effort from him to make you feel better and it was definitely the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for you.

"I would like to quit my job. It’s a shit job." You admitted staring at your hands. "… and I hate that place. I hate those people."

"Is there any person in the world that you don't hate?" He teased.

You smirked, "You're not so bad."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him. You snuggled feeling the pleasant warmth of his body and laid your head on his shoulder.

"In fact, I think you're the only person in the world I don't hate."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "I'll take that as a compliment."

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah, as you should.”

He looked at his cell phone's display for a moment and then informed. "Pizza in 20 minutes." He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on again, this time looking for something to watch. He went through the streaming catalogs – from which he was paying for - and ended up deciding on a random horror movie.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes watching the opening scenes of The Nun. The silence, however, was not the uncomfortable kind, the kind that you need to fill with anything because the situation starts to get messy and strange. In fact, there was a certain comfort in being next to Tony, the intimacy that existed between you was something comforting and even cuddling with him on the couch, your head lying lazily on his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his waist, his arm resting affectionately on your shoulders, you felt completely at ease and carefree because you knew it was completely platonic. Tony had Pepper and you had simply given up on having a man in your life. Romantically speaking.

"How are things at home?" You asked, breaking the silence. "With Pepper and Morgan."

"Very good. Pepper has been taking care of the company and so she's been traveling a lot, but we're doing great. Morgan is doing really well in school. I think I've done well in life."

You smiled, genuinely happy for him. "Does she know you're here?"

He nodded, but you pushed a little harder.

"What does she think about me?"

"She knows what I tell her. She doesn't care about our friendship, if that's what you're asking."

You nodded, getting distracted by a particularly scary scene in the movie.

"She agreed to you coming and living with us." He said proudly.

You looked at him in surprise. "Seriously?"

"She also warned me that I should offer you a job if I expected you to accept the offer. Pepper knows people, she deals with them better than I do."

You smirked to yourself. "She's an incredible woman. I don't know what she saw in you." You teased tickling his ribs and eliciting giggles from him. You loved the sound of Tony's laughter. It would do you more good than all the anti-depressant pills you've ever taken in your life.

It took about 30 minutes for your pizza to arrive. Obviously, it was you who greeted the pizza guy at the door. Tony was terrified of any of your neighbors finding out he was coming to your house, not only because it could be fodder for the gossip tabloids, but also because it would ruin your privacy.

You put the pizza box on the coffee table and got two cans of soda from the fridge and threw yourself back on the couch.

Sebastian, who had settled into the small loveseat, was now staring at the two of you jealously.

You were surprised by how much you enjoyed your slice of pizza. It was the first thing you were eating that day, but you were sure that what made everything feel so special was the company. Any food, no matter how tasty it was, seemed tasteless in your mouth when you ate it alone sitting on that couch using TV to pretend a non-existent company.

"I could use an assistant." Tony said finishing his soda and looking at you waiting for an answer.

You took the last bite from your piece and chewed slowly thinking about what to say. Deep down you wanted to say yes, but rationally you wondered if you weren't crossing a line.

"You'll have your own room, which is bigger than this entire apartment. You'll have a good salary, meet new people, and spend more time with me. Something tells me that would do you good."

You smiled "I wouldn't know where to start. I don't know your work, Tony and I've never worked as a secretary."

"Assistant." He corrected.

"What if I screw up? What if I disappoint you?"

Tony touched your face "The only way you can disappoint me is by not trying. I want what's best for you and we both know that's not continuing to live in this place alone."

Immediately you glanced at Sebastian sleeping peacefully in the loveseat. "Can I take him with me? You know I'm not going anywhere without him."

Tony pretended to think about it. "You know he hates me, right?"

"He doesn't hate you. He's just jealous of me." You corrected him.

Tony smirked "You can take him, but he will have to stay in your room the whole time. It's not safe for him to be loose in the tower."

“Is it safe for me? I mean, with your weird friends there?”

Tony nodded “I’ll be there to protect you from them, don’t worry.”

Tony pulled you into his arms and you finished watching the movie like that, feeling safe in his arms and with a sense that somehow everything would be okay.

You sighed finally surrendering.

"Then the answer is yes."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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[gabessquishytum]

CW: past child abuse, past parricide

Special inspector Hob Gadling hates his job. Well, it's actually not true - he loves his job, but today specifically, he hates it. First, he was hoping for a bonus, and now he got assigned to a years-old cold case 'just to ensure that no new details emerged, and the investigation needs not to be reopened.' Second, he'll have to deal with some filthy rich weirdos.

Destiny Endless is a top-tier consulting risk manager, his services costing more than Hob's yearly paycheck. Death is the founder of a successful chain of funeral homes - after all, people always die, and rumor has it that Death is the best in her line of work. Dream is a famous writer who's able to write it all: whatever genre he sets his eyes - and pen - on, the book becomes a bestseller. Desire Endless is a porn star; the only mention of their name makes armies of fans go hard, wet, and horny. Despair founded a pharmaceutical corporation and revolutionized the world by introducing new, highly effective antidepressants. Destruction seems like the only normal person in that fucked-up family of masterminds: he had made a career in the military and then fucked off to travel the world. Last but not least, there is Delirium, an artist. Personally, Hob thinks that one needs to be constantly high to come up with such colors and forms, but hey, it's not him who's paid six figures to install some mind fuckery in amusement parks, so he doesn't get to judge.

Hob wouldn't come close to any of these freaks, but he has to verify that nothing was missed during the investigation, and so, here he goes. Mama and Papa of the Endless disappeared almost twenty years ago with no trace. Their bodies were never found, and there was no evidence of foul play. They just vanished into thin air, voilà. It was presumed that they had got bored, bought themselves new personalities, and left to live someplace else. To Hob, this seems strange yet plausible: looking at their kids, it's obvious that insanity runs in the family.

Still, Hob shows up to do his job, examine old records, and talk once again with all the Endless heirs. All goes very smoothly - there's nothing suspicious, all the kids' testimonies match. Hob would gladly close the check, but there is one tiny problem: he fell head over heels in love with Dream. Now in his thirties, he's unconventionally beautiful, insanely talented, and he's got Hob wrapped around his slender finger. Dream keeps his distance at first, but eventually, they begin dating. Hob finally closes the check for good - it's as clear as day that Endless parents must be chilling on some private island - and plunges into the relationship with Dream, learning him from the other side, as someone vulnerable, insecure, and kind-hearted. There's only one strange thing: Dream is inexperienced in bed for his age, and he's always somewhat tense during sex. Hob tries to talk to him, but Dream shuts the conversation down. Hob guiltily googles his bf and finds out that despite his high profile, there are no mentions of his exes in the media. At all.

Hob is puzzled, but it all falls into place when, one night, his lover has a nightmare. Hob wakes up from his screams and, with horror, realizes that this is more than a nightmare - it's a memory. He wakes Dream up and holds him while he cries. On the periphery of his mind, Dream's screams and pleas create a terrifying story of the siblings being abused by their parents for years.

'You killed them together, didn't you? Each of you thought you were the only one who suffered and thus kept the others safe. But once you all learned the truth…' Hob whispers into Dream's hair and holds him tighter. 'It's alright, my sweetling. I'd have killed them myself for you if they had been still alive.'

They stay like that through the night. In the morning, Hob makes Dream breakfast like nothing happened and goes to work. He's got no reason to worry about the case ever being reopened: there's no evidence, and he's determined to be the only one who sleeps by Dream's side till the end and holds him through his dreams and nightmares.

I love this so much. Poor, poor Dream. And the rest of the siblings too!

Hob doesn't want to draw further attention to the case of course, but he does all he can at work to make sure that files are carelessly "lost" or at least buried so deep in the archive no one will find it for a century. It even occurs him to frame someone else for the crime to make sure that the siblings are thoroughly safe, but... its better left forgotten. God knows Hob will spend the rest of his career making sure that no one ever goes sniffing around the Endless siblings ever again.

What's more he'll spend the rest of his life helping Dream in his recovery. He makes sure that he has private, confidential access to resources that a survivor should have - none of the siblings ever told anyone about the abuse or went to therapy because they're terrified to look like they had a "motive" to get rid of their parents. Hob changes that. He persuades as many of the siblings as he can to visit trusted therapists. Not all of them go for it, but at least someone is finally advocating for them and offering a little bit of support.

Hob loves Dream most of all of course, but he considers all the siblings as his family. He hates what happened to them. He can't fix it. But he can protect and love them as they deserve. Maybe all of them can finally breathe a little easier, with a friend on their side.

[laladellakang]

partners (1/2) ♡

masterlist | wattpad

DETAILS: bold dialogue: english members: ot7, (individual scenes) nrk, psh, lhs, yjw word count: 5.1k add. della in dark blood/bite me

SUMMARY: behind the scenes of dark blood [revamp] hehe revamp like vampires 1/2 + slight continuation of burgundy lipstick on jungwon's part

NOTES: hi! i'm so sorry for being away for so long! i have an explanation here if you wanna see what's been happening BUT NOWW i've come back for this new special birthday + anniversary month chapter! this is basically the partners chapter but revised + more scenes. i was gonna just combine it w part two but it was hecka long and i hate extremely long chapters. oh yea and della's dance in bite me includes a girlie now (but still has a man) please let me know what you think by sending asks/commenting. i look forward to them while writing and they really make my day <3 

Della's hand injury at the start of 2023 has caused an obvious shift within Enhypen's dynamics. The fear of another relapse has caused the members to grow increasingly protective and wary of the girl, doing everything they can to get the love of their life back. Displaying it through their constant supervision when Della is in the kitchen, to being assured that she has taken her antidepressants, to an overall improvement in communication to ensure that her negative thoughts don't boil over.

Fortunately, the slump went away faster than they anxiously expected. Following the tour and her plastic surgery, Della had regained her usual self just in time for her birthday and their two-year anniversary. As their bond grows stronger by the day, the eight found themselves back in their honeymoon phase— practically inseperable.

Then the time came for a comeback.

It would have been ten months since their last one, and the group ready to go back into their busy routine with barely any rest but at least looked cute while doing it. They were excited for the change, and even more thrilled to find out that the concept would be something sexy. However, when they were briefed about the potential couple choreography, all seven boys froze collectively.

"We have to see how this goes. This is uncharted territory for us, so we're not sure if it's the best idea," the creative director explained. "BTS' Jimin incorporated mixed dancers, and the response was pretty good. However, 'Like Crazy' wasn't a full-on couple dance, so it might be different this time."

Jungwon, who was sitting to the left of Della, immediately held her hand under the desk, while the other six stole glances in her direction. Their minds were mostly occupied with how their girlfriend would react, as opposed to fully sinking in what such concept would entail for them.

"You'll hear the song in a bit, but since the key point is about a man doting on the woman who turned him into a vampire, we are going to have Della be the killing part," another director continued. "You'll have slightly different lyrics from the boys and you'll have an overall more seductive look."

"Thank you," Della bowed in her seat. "Is it altered to be more feminine?" she asked.

"No, no. You'll be singing from the girl's perspective. So if we look at the next page—" the sound of papers flipping echoed through the room. "Here, for Della's part in the teaser, we're gonna have you bite an actor— of course, not literally," the director's comment made a few people snicker. "—and turn him into a vampire. So, essentially, you'll be singing to two people: the woman who turned you and the man that you turned."

"Ahh, understood," Della nodded calmly. "Thank you," she said once again before caressing the back of Jungwon's tense hand. She glanced over at the others to find most of them looking at their sheet with a hard gaze. She could additionally see Jake playing with the corner of his and hear Jay's foot tapping on the floor. 

"Thank you for the question, now back to the previous page—" another round of paper-flipping. "Now given that backstory, Della's partner in this comeback will be the only male—" the comment made Ni-ki choke on the coffee he was sipping. "Are you alright?"

"Ye– yeah! My– apo– apologies." he said in between coughs, turning his body away from the table while Sunoo patted his back.

"Like we said, we don't know how this is gonna turn out. We're sort of taking a gamble by doing this type of concept, but it's certainly going to be different and memorable."

The car ride home was tense. The members made an effort to conceal their emotions in the office, but in the privacy of the car, they saw no need to do so, and thus, they didn't. Though the discussion had to wait until they reached the dorm, as they needed all seven boys to be there. Della, who already knew the reason behind the tension, just calmly played with her phone and hummed to their upcoming title track.

"You really like the song, huh?" Jay commented as he entered the combination to their dorm. Since they had freshly heard it, all Della kept doing was humming the tune and repeating the words 'just come kiss me and bite me',which only heightened the tension among the three boys in her car. She could have chosen any other parts of the song and instead went for that specific line.

"It's one of my favorites of ours. It's so good," Della stopped her humming to reply with a grin. "We're ho—"

"Group meeting!" Jungwon immediately called out.

"As expected," Della muttered to herself. The four new arrivals swiftly put their shoes away and made headed to the living room, where the other four were already waiting. "Hello—"

"Lala, how are you feeling?" Jungwon wasted no time in asking. The question that all seven boys have been meaning to ask for the past two hours.

"I feel great," she replied with a soft smile, sitting on the couch armrest. "The song's great! The concept's great! I really can't wait for it."

"Is there... anything you dislike about the concept?" Sunghoon asked with a suspicious tone.

"Honestly..." the boys all looking at her with curious, yet almost eager eyes. "I think it's our best concept yet. It really represents Enhypen," her words made them collectively sigh in relief. "Were you expecting me to hate it?"

"No, it's just— like..." Sunoo struggled to find the words to explain the situation. "We were worried about the couple concept thing. The couple dance plus all the acting."

"Why were you worried about that?" Della furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you expecting me to be jealous?"

"No!" the seven said simultaneously in different tones. "We were just worried." Della couldn't help but scoff and giggle at her boyfriends.

"You guys have gotten so used to being a group that you often say things in unison," she covered the bottom half of her face, unable to contain her giggles. "So cute!"

"Wait— Lala, stay focused— are you seriously, seriously fine with everything?" Sunoo placed a hand on her knee to grab her attention.

"I'm totally cool! I don't mind you guys dancing with girls at all!" Della said with wide eyes and a genuine tone. "Guys, I used to train in YG— dancing or acting with the opposite sex is nothing! It's all professional," the mention of her old company itself suddenly provided the answer to their question.

"But the concept is quite sexy. We won't just be dancing next to each other, it's gonna be a couple dance with hand touching, at least," Jake explained.

"Honey, have you seen groups like Winner and BigBang? With Riki still being a baby, I doubt any of the parts will be suggestive— the worst thing they can do is have you hold onto the dancer's waist or something," she gave the Aussie a knowing look. "This is the art of dancing! We're exploring new stuff that fourth gen hasn't done before!" her eyes shone with every word she spoke, clearly showing her enthusiasm for the concept.

"I mean... on top of that, we don't love the idea too," Sunghoon spoke up, trying to be gentle. "We— or at least I wouldn't want to dance with another girl, let alone seeing you dance with another guy," Heeseung and Jay pointed to him in agreement while the others nod.

"Aww, darling, it's all professional, I promise!" Della made her way to the Sunghoon and released his crossed arms. "I'm only dancing with him for a little bit! Barely half a minute, I'm sure," she linked her arm with his and stared up at him with puppy eyes.

"It still ain't fun," he muttered, gulping down at the sight of her.

"Della, it's not that we don't trust you or anything," Heeseung sighed. "You have guy friends, for Christ's sake, we really do trust you! It's just... it's just..."

"It just fucking sucks," Jay bluntly completed for him. "—and we really don't wanna do this couple dance thing either. We know it's gonna hurt you."

"I'm not hurt, honest!" Della straightened her posture and widened her eyes. "I mean, we can always try to reason with the team if you guys are rea—" her idea was immediately cut by a string of 'no's.

"Forget about us, we'll be fine!" the other six wanted to smack their maknae on the head for lying. No, they will certainly not be fine. "But you! We don't want to hurt you or anything!" at least his other point was correct.

"I'm not hurt! Look, guys—" Della sighed, sitting down in betweenn Ni-Ki and Jay on the sofa and held their hands. "I'm not gonna lie, I might get a little jealous, but just a little! I'm not gonna be 'hurt', I swear! Just this conversation alone is enough to assure me that you all are seriously the best boyfriends in the world," she said with utmost sincerity. "I have nothing to worry about and— I know it's easier said than done but so should you. I'm completely obsessed with you guys! I don't want anyone else"

"Well, there are seven of us," Jungwon blurted out without thought. "I'm sorry!" his eyes instantly filled with regret while his hand went up to cover his mouth. "I didn't mean it like that. That sounds so wrong, I'm sor—"

"It's okay, darling. I'm not offended," Della got up from her seat and ruffled his hair. "Plus, you're absolutely right! I have seven boyfriends, I don't need any more! Especially when you're all so perfect." she placed a kiss on Jungwon's cheek before heading towards the kitchen. The seven boys all looked at each other in flabbergast.

"Are you absolutely, positively certain you're okay with the couple thing?!" Jay called out.

"Absolutely! I trust you guys! Best boyfriends ever, I tell you!"

The boys eyed each other as the same thought crossed their minds; one that they could never say aloud. "She gets jealous and upset over fan ships with idols we barely (or never) even talk to, yet she seems completely fine when we act with a girl for the screen?"

When the day came to finally learn the choreography, the boys were evidently really tense. They didn't even bother to conceal it in hopes that they might magically cancel the idea due to lack of chemistry. Little did they know that that is what the company prefers; for them to not 'stray from Engenes' hearts.'

The overall lesson came out smoothly, with everyone remaining professional and focused at the task at hand. Yet that was also because Della had not even touched her male dance partner. That part would only come towards the end of the song, on the second chorus, as Della dances with a girl on the first half. It was easy for the boys to cast their jealousy aside, but it certainly wasn't when the man finally came along.

"Della, your partner, Ingyu, as you know," the choreographer introduced the two out of formality. "Ingyu, Della," both Della and Ingyu politely bowed, despite already knowing each other from earlier. "Do you think you can do the moves from memory?" the choreographer grinned at the girl.

"Maybe...? Hopefully?" Della nervously grinned back, causing both the choreographer and Ingyu to chuckle.

Everyone had practiced and (essentially) mastered the chorus dance, but Della needed to be taken aside to learn the part switch she has with her male partner. It was an entirely new set for her, whereas several of the members just had to change partners.

This also provided an opportunity for them to fully observe their girlfriend dancing with another man. How lucky were they to have their full attention on the session they dread the most.

"Let's see what you've got," the choreographer stepped back to observe. "Five, six, seven, eight— it's you and me in this world..." Della did a great job mirroring the moves. Although some details in her leg movements were missing, her upper body ones were practically all correct.

"Damn, we just had to have a break while they are doing their part," Jay mumbled to his fellow members. "If it had happened earlier, we would have had something to focus on. But now it's right up on our faces."

"They have great chemistry, don't they?" Heeseung scoffed with a sardonic smile. Their eyes followed as the choreographer instructed Della on how much she needed to bend, having her hold onto Ingyu for support. "Wow, such amazing chemistry," he sarcastically remarked.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I asked her about the chemistry between my partner and I?" Sunoo asked Heeseung, who replied with a shake of his head. "I asked her how she would feel if I had good dance chemistry with my partner, and she just said, 'That's great! You should switch partners if the dance chemistry isn't there.' Like, what the fuck?"

"Ahh, you mentioned that to me," Jungwon reminded him. "Della really isn't jealous—she even encouraged Sunoo-hyung to make eye contact," he pointed at Sunoo.

"Really?!" Jake's eyes widened. "Even in front of the cameras?!"

"Uh!" Jungwon and Sunoo nodded with wide eyes. "I think as long as everything remains professional, she's completely fine."

"Well can someone tell her that we're not completely fine?" Sunghoon really tried to not glare at the couple but it wasn't like he was the only one.

It took around fifteen minutes for Della to get all the moves down. While it wasn't long by any means, the boys felt like the session ran through a hour. Instead of making the most out of their break, they were using up their energy on the glares that they sent the couple's way. 

Both the choreographer and Ingyu (and certainly Della) could feel the potential holes that were burning through the male dancer's skin, yet they decide to brush it off since it doesn't appear to affect Della's performance. They always knew that the Enha boys had a crush on the girl anyway.

The keyword was professional, and as long as everyone remains that then all should be well.

"Are you finish?" Sunghoon asked Della as she finally made her way over for her break.

"Yup," she gave a thumbs up. "Thankfully, it wasn't difficult."

While they were all feeling jealous, they knew that Della had done everything they asked of her and there was wasn't much she could do. So they resorted to the only outlet available for them to express their emotions; teasing and poking fun at her.

"Was it fun?" Sunoo playfully glared at her with a pout.

"Aish, it's all professional," she playfully pushed him.

"So it was fun?" Sunoo pestered further, causing Della to scoff and mutter a "no it wasn't."

"'It's all professional,' but you were fully leaning on his chest?" Jungwon teased as well.

"It was no different from you!" she protested with a point to him. "—with all of you! We maintained our distance and everything."

"Our distance was like this—" Jake opened his arms wide in exaggeration. "While your distance was like this," he demonstrated by getting very close to Jay.

"No, it wasn't!" Della stomped her feet repeatedly. "You guys are exaggerating!"

"In that case, show us how it was," Ni-ki stood up from the floor and got closer to Della. "Demonstrate with me," he smirked.

"Eyy!" the members teased, impressed by their maknae's smooth flirting. "Go on! Show us!"

"Aish, you seven," Della complained with a roll to her eyes but complied anyway. "It's you and me in this world..." she sang monotonously and lazily repeated the moves that she just learned.

"Wah! Look at the large gap when it's with me!" Ni-ki protested to his hyungs. "Wah... seriously..." he pinched his nose bridge and shook his head.

"What the—" Della's confusion was immediately cut off by the members simultaneously jestering her. Choruses of "wah Della!", "how could you do that?!" "with our maknae too!" and "can't believe you play favourites," ran through the circle, making whoever else in the room glance at them with an amused expression.

"What are you talking about?!"

"Riki, riki, what do you think of this? So everyone disappears out of the frame except for you," Della explained her vision, using her hands to mimic curtains opening. "All eyes are on you and then Sunghoon-oppa emerges!" her hand then dramatically raised as if she was Thanos. "Brave heart— pam, pam, pam!" she said Ni-ki's line while popping her chest. "Then you and Sunghoon-oppa couple dance on his part!" the pen in her hand dropped as if it was a microphone and she had just said something life changing. 

"Couple dance?" Ni-ki raised an eyebrow. The two dancers were ecstatic when the choreographer had asked them to take part in the process. They have wanted this for so long and were finally given the responsibility of the pre-chorus and second verse. The pre-chorus practically screams Ni-ki's name so it was a no-brainer for the maknae to take the former. 

They were experimenting together but didn't interfere with each other's section, simply situated in an empty practice room with snacks and their phones playing the recently recorded song. It almost reminded them of the time when they had their first kiss.

"Not literally, but like... a pair dance, y'know? Something like Given-Taken," Della grinned. "Then Heeseung-oppa emerges! Then I emerge! Then everyone gathers and emerges—"

"What is with you and people emerging?" Ni-ki laughed. He was feeling a little too happy to have his girlfriend all to himself whilst doing the activity they love the most (especially since said activity was recently ruined by the couple dance). It was evident in his clinginess and the shine in his eyes. 

"It's the drama! The vampire! The darkness!" the younger could only laugh more, letting his head drop on his girlfriend's lap. 

"I'm sure you know what suits the mood, and I think the emergence thing sounds great," Ni-ki can't help but hum when Della's fingers tangled themselves in his hair. "I'm doing something like this; come here and get some—" with his eyes still closed and basking in the soothing sensation, he brought his hands up to form the first part of his original dance. "Something with a cool vibe, y'know?" 

「大好き」 Della smiled softly. 「まじ力のスタイル」 she got close to his face to place a sideways kiss on his lips. [daisuki: i love it, maji riki no sutairu: it's seriously riki's style]

「ありがとう」Ni-ki muttered out before closing the gap to deepen the kiss. [arigatou: thanks]

Della and her boyfriends wouldn't call herself a jealous person. However, what she definitely is, is an anxiety-filled, insecure person. Otherwise known as a jealous person. 

But she's not envious! She simply overthinks that some girls just suit the boys better than her and that they deserve better. While she's not jealous of the boys acting with Park Jiwon for the trailer, she had to admit that she was a little nervous before the shoot.

'What if they look great together? Especially Sunghoon since he has a lot of scenes with her,' she recognises that she's overthinking it but she really can't prevent herself from doing so.

'Sunghoon and one of your close friends look great together, but they don't give off couple vibes,' she reminded herself. 'You look great with them too, Lala. Give yourself some credit, you bad bitch.'

With the help of her self-pep talk (and antidepressants), her nervousness subdued quick. It also didn't take long for it to completely wash away, resulting from Jiwon being a massive shipper of Enha as a group. It was evident in how she giggled to herself whenever Della and the boys did anything close to being couple-like.

Furthermore, she had caught Jiwon pouting to her manager, questioning; "Is that all we're getting? Della being disappointed in Sunghoon and they don't even hug?" or along those lines.

Needless to say, there was no reason for Della to feel jealous, and that almost annoyed Mister Park Sunghoon himself.

"You're seriously, seriously not jealous?" Sunghoon asked when they had a moment to themselves on set.

"No? Why would I be?" Della said with a borderline sassy tone. The boys have been walking around eggshells with Jiwon and have constantly asked the same questions to Della. A rotation between "are you sure?" "is it really okay?" "aren't you jealous?" and "are you feeling okay?" Although she appreciates the gesture and thinks it's incredibly sweet of them, she has gotten tired of saying the same things over and over again.

"Not even the slightest? Babe, the storyline literally includes me defending her more than yo—" 

"And what are you gonna do if I said that I was?" she cut him off, moving closer to him with a low voice.

"I– I mean," he stuttered at the look on her face and sudden close proximity. Even after two years, there are still moments when he finds Della intimidating. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay—"

"And what are you gonna do if I said that I wasn't?" she practically repeated. "You want me to congratulate you?" an eyebrow was raised to challenge him further.

"No! That's not what I meant!" his eyes widened in panic. "I– I was just– a little—" he did have an reason, but the addition of Della's hand pushing his bangs to the side had distracted him from whatever it was he was trying to say.

"Why don't you relay this to the others as well, hm?" she then brushed her fingers on his cheekbones. "I am rarely ever jealous because, at the end of the day, when you act out those scenes or record our songs, I'm the one who's on your mind. You don't think of Jiwon, your dancers, or even Sooha or Engenes. You think of me," she lets out a smirk when he appeared to be in a daze.

"The lyrics that you sing in your songs? Those are all for me."

"I get to have a couple dance with you?!" Heeseung exclaimed when Della broke the news. "Sweet! Nice!"

She really couldn't help it. She just had to reveal to the guy that she sneaked in a tiny pair dance for the two of them. It wasn't much in her eyes but it's more than enough for Heeseung.

"You have to show me! Please!" Heeseung got up from his bed, ready to replicate whatever it was that Della came up with. "It's definitely gonna be the choreo, right?! Like they won't ask you to change it or anything?" Della couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable the older was. His eyes sparkled with eager and hope, incredibly ready to perform his girlfriend's arrangement in pride.

"Nope. Absolute free to do whatever I want," she grinned before standing up as well. "All you do is kneel..." she kneeled on the floor to demonstrate, with Heeseung following suit. "Then rise... walk... then this," what he had to do wasn't difficult at all, so he would definitely still be able to sing live. "That's it."

"And yours?" Della smiled and made her way behind him. It was a tight fit, but the two can definitely make it work with how simple the moves are.

"Go ahead."

"'Come to me, make it right,'" Heeseung could feel himself get even more excited when Della placed her hand under his chin. "'Please connect me again,' woah!" his eyes widened at her hands running down his arms. 

"'Devour you,'" Della whispered, leaving goosebumps on his skin. Her face got close to his neck while her right hand mimicked a claw on his shoulder blade. Knowing Heeseung, this move should drive him insane.

"No fricking way," within a flash, Della was back onto the bed with Heeseung lips on the side of her neck. "Gosh, I love this vampire concept."

"Gosh, I hate this vampire concept," Heeseung rumbled under his breath.

"It was all fun and games until we realise what a vampire concept entails," Jake mumbled with crossed arms. 

"Yeah, and it's whatever this shit is," Jay huffed, openly glaring at the unfolding scene without a care.

Della was in the midst of filming the scene where she wakes up and bites a passerby. For budget conveniences (since his face wouldn't be visible anyway), the actor was none other than her male backup dancer, Ingyu.

It seems that, although she had made her lack of jealousy clear, her reasons did not resonate with her men. Even when they implement her advice, they still felt that red, hot jealousy. 

"If his face ain't even on the video, then can't one of us do it? Seriously..." Sunoo rolled his eyes to avoid looking at Della leaning into Ingyu's neck. 

"I know right?" Jungwon and Jay briefly replied, shifting their eyes to the monitor and giving them a closer look at the scene.

"Oh my God!" the boys (with the exception of Sunoo, who was still avoiding the performance), held a shocked look when Della's pretend bite appeared very realistic.

The segment is definitely different from that of Jay's and Sunghoon's. With Della being the one to initiate the bite, the focus is on her face instead of the partner's. The audience could see her laziness-laced body with eyes holding a convincing hunger to them, making it look like she was an actual starved vampire. She looks incredibly alluring, all while looking at another man.

"Oh great, she's amazing at acting too," after a quick glance back, Sunoo let out another eye roll. "Does she always have to give it her all? She should've half assed it," he spat out. 

"Sunoo-ya," Heeseung and Jungwon laughed while the other four snorted with grins on their faces. 

"You're gonna get us in trouble with that language," Jay chuckled.

"I wasn't screaming it or anything— I'm just saying what you all are thinking," Sunoo shrugged innocently. "You three are way louder than me without even saying anything" he gestured to Heeseung, Jay and Jungwon, additionally giving them a pointed look. The others know they can't disagree, as the trio really placed their heart on their sleeves this time.

"I don't fucking get it. Any one of us could really act this scene, I swear," Jungwon huffed out with a sarcastic smile. He placed his hands in his pockets, turning his body around to avoid looking any further. "Seven boys and they went with someone else for fucking budget reasons when they don't need to pay us fuck all for that scene alone. It's like they're doing this on purpose just so his name is on the fucking credits and Engenes won't ship us or—" 

"Woah, woah!" Heeseung and Jake cut him off from his tangent. Jay and Sunoo's eyes simply widened while Ni-ki and Sunghoon held him back as if he was going to fight.

"You need to have a talk with Della or something," Sunghoon pat his left shoulder in attempt to calm him down. On his right, the youngest did a similar gesture by massaging the tense area.

"Or your therapist..."

"A little birdie told me you need to let things out," fortunately, since Della's part was the last shoot of the day, Jungwon's sour mood did not interfere with their work. It also gave them the opportunity to talk in the fully private hotel room. 

Jungwon only scoffed out, keeping his arms crossed as he sat on the bed. The man himself doesn't fully understand why he was so upset. The other boys had quickly calmed themselves— unbeknownst to him, it was because they saw how angry their leader was, yet he remained with a scowl for majority of the time. 

"Who?" he avoided eye contact when he muttered, afraid to raise his voice at the girl.

"It doesn't even matter because I can tell with my eyes closed," Della mirrored his body language but remained standing before him and leaning on the desk behind her. She has always been nervous whenever any one of the boys are mad at her, but Jungwon is probably the most intimidating. His leader energy is incredible.

"I just don't understand why they need Ingyu to act when there are seven other men who can do it," he went straight to the point. "If his face isn't even showing then any one of us could've done it! Heck— even the director could use his own neck! They couldn't have one of us to do it?!" as he went on, his voice started to raise a little in passion.

Della only stood there with an occasional nod, listening to the tangent that the other members have already heard. He talked nonstop for a few minutes, leaving Della room to ponder through her words.

She noticed that he kept repeating points like 'any one of the members could do it,' 'the bite could've been even more realistic,' and 'why they would want you to imitate a bite on another man.' It all finally clicked to her when Jungwon said, "They scrapped the kiss mark for the jacket shoot and now this? They're definitely keeping us apart on purpose."

"Jungwonie?" she grinned mischievously, to which he stopped and replied with a hum. "You're so cute," she didn't give him much time to react, as she had already hovered above him to connect their lips.

"Wait, Lala—" the younger was certainly not complaining, but he wished that Della would say a bit more than that, especially after he went on and on.

"You want more neck kisses, don't you?" she grinned once again. "You felt special during the jacket shoot and want that again, right? And you're jealous because the concept was scrapped for you yet another man got it. Am I right?"

Jungwon blinked slowly, taking in the observation that the mind reader had made. He didn't even know that he was feeling that way but it all makes sense. His emotions weren't even specifically directed to Ingyu; it's towards a man who wasn't him. He would feel the same if the team had chosen any other member. 

A rare occurrence for Jungwon, but definitely not impossible. As much as he loves his best friends and the relationship, he did originally want Della all to himself.

A giggle interrupted his train of thoughts, and when Della asked for a confirmation, all he could do was nod in embarrassment. She let out another giggle before closing the gap between them once again.

"Don't worry, Wonie. I'll give you a million neck kisses if that's what you want."

my writing style has evolved and i'm hating a lot of my old works so i'm going to edit + tweak them soon but i'm still keeping the old ones on wattpad just in case they're someone's comfort fics <3 n e ways i hope you enjoy because i hope my writing style has progressed instead of regressed

part two coming soon

taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @one16core @i90snoo @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount @nvmbheart [i have removed accs that i can't tag so please send me an ask/message to be in the tallest again]

[bomberqueen17]

*vibrating slightly in place*

So ok. When I was in kindergarten, my classroom was arranged so that four desks were linked together, so we were in little groups. I used to regularly vibrate my desk and the three it was attached to, with three other children in them, across several feet of floor space, until the linked desks ran into the teacher's desk, which was larger and did not move with the force of my vibrations. I was a good student, but hard to control, and markedly uneven in my ability to like. Do anything. "Well," my mom said once, upon beholding my entire spectrum of a report card, "we'd just hate to be bored."

When I graduated with my bachelor's degree, seventeen years later, my mom said "I never thought you could do it," and when I, shocked, said "what?" she said "well what with your ADHD and all," and I said "my what?" and she said "well, i never wanted to shake your confidence, and I thought once they put a label on you it'd be over, but you super have like, turbo ADHD. Why, what do you think your deal is?" She said it nicely and not in those words at all, but it was the first time I'd ever really realized that I wasn't just mildly eccentric, I did seem to actually have something wrong with me.

I've been trying to get a diagnosis ever since. I've never been able to. I had no health insurance at all for a huge chunk of my twenties, which put a damper on things. One doctor told me "you'd know if you had that" and when I was like "I... do" she was like "no i mean. you'd already be being treated." Which shows a wild and totally unwarranted optimism in our medical system, but she was a resident. The doctor overseeing her care of me suggested I try taking fish oil capsules. To "rebuild my brain tissue".

I did. It didn't help. I still buy them but mostly I use them now to get my cat to take pills.

Eventually in my 30s my doctors started sort of believing me maybe, or at least realizing they couldn't really brush me off (I have gotten... less easily-cowed as I've aged) but they were all like "oh, I can't evaluate that. You'll have to research and find a place that can do a neuropsych eval for you. Insurance doesn't cover those. So good luck. Have some antidepressants in the meantime."

I slid into my 40s, still undiagnosed. I read as many self-help books on the topic as I could find, did all the checklists I found. They all said "girl you super have like turbo ADHD." I tried meditation. I tried divination. I tried bullet journaling, which was hilarious. I tried yoga.

I actually damaged myself doing yoga and am banned from yoga, but at least I'm in physical therapy now. (Word to the wise: if you have really really flexible hip joints, don't fucking do yoga. "Usually I don't have to tell people not to get into that position," said my bemused physical therapist. "Oh," I said, blissfully bepretzeled. "It feels super good." "Mm," she said, "you've torn your labrum. Stop doing that." Now I do really, really boring stretches that don't feel nearly as good, but I also can walk without limping, so. Like. We take the good with the bad I guess.)

Anyway. My PCP in January was like "wait you didn't follow my super vague directions to go see 'the guys downstairs' and see if they can squeeze you into their eleven-month waiting period to get an evaluation that i cannot mention without saying it's several thousand dollars and your insurance surely won't cover it? you must not want this diagnosis very badly!" (At no point has anyone ever given me a phone number for 'the guys downstairs'. I still don't know what she meant by any of those directions. This PCP and I technically speak the same language but I've never understood a single thing she has told me and I don't think she understands a word I say in return, everything I tell her seems to be such a shock to her. You blame antidepressants for your weight gain? I've never heard of that. Ma'am please look up what the incredibly common side effects of antidepressants are.)

I called around but noplace both took my insurance and was accepting new patients. Finally I gave up. Then my Dude went on our insurance company's website and took over the search. He found that there's some kind of concierge service thing, which the insurance company normally charges $450/mo for but our plan includes it, because it's pretty well-hidden on the website and most people aren't ever going to find it anyway. So he said, you know what, I am going to instigate a query on this.

They took two weeks but eventually came back with a list of 13 places, most of them not remotely local. Ten of them were red X's, disqualified for varying reasons-- one because the phone number didn't work, another because it's a seven-hour drive away and doesn't do telehealth. One was in New Jersey. None of them were the local places I had already called.

Two of them were valid, but the insurance wouldn't cover the evaluation for various reasons.

One of them was fully covered, the insurance company said. So I went there.

Their website said "no you're not we can't see you". But Dude was like, call them on the phone. Surely, surely, the concierge service couldn't have lied??? Bet, I said, and called them and left a message, and said to him, if they call me back I will eat a hat.

But they did. They called me back. "Our insurance checker widget is down," they said. "But we do take your insurance! We can see you. We just don't know how much it will cost."

Ominous.

But. They could see me later in the week, via a telehealth appointment.

So I signed up.

The appointment was this morning. I turned up. Their insurance checker thingy still wasn't working so they couldn't be sure how much the appointment would cost me. I at this point don't care, and gave them my HSA credit card, and said do what you will.

I waited 45 minutes and then texted the number they'd texted me from with the confirmation, and a moment later the guy showed up. "Whoops," he said, "that system isn't working quite right either!"

He talked to me for like. Three minutes, and was like "yeah that sounds. Pretty textbook. I'm going to prescribe you stimulants." He then proceeded to take a very basic medical history, and I recognized all the questions because I have researched stimulant medication for ADHD so much. And he was like "We're going to start with Adderall, check at your pharmacy in like an hour." And then he gave me extremely useful and detailed instructions on how to take it, when to take it, what side effects to worry about, what to expect, what to note down in case it might mean a problem, and how to be safe about it. (He asked me three times if I'd ever been suicidal, and it had also been in the online pre-screening. I am aware that can be a rare but very serious side effect of stimulants!)

And then I went to Rite-Aid and I now have 16 pills in my possession, and i am going to wait until tomorrow morning to start taking them, and I am already scheduled for my follow-up in 15 days.

I have absolutely no idea how much any of that is going to cost, but for the record the pills were eleven dollars.

So. I don't know why the last decade of my life has been spent being told that a comprehensive and unattainably expensive neuropsychological evaluation was my only option. Maybe this place is a disreputable pill mill or whatever. But. I am going to get to try to medicate this disorder that has warped my entire life to this point, and I am going to try to see if I can't have some more control over my life, and if it doesn't work then at least I will know, instead of on my deathbed being like "i wonder if i'd ever tried amphetamines maybe I'd have been able to finish a project ever in my life, guess we'll never know".

Which was what I was starting to genuinely think was going to happen.

Literally though why can't a primary care doctor just refer you to a psychiatrist who can then decide whether you need an assessment or whether your condition is likely to respond well to a basic diagnosis?? I get needing the whole nine yards if you're not sure what's wrong with this kid and you don't want to give them the wrong thing-- like I know misdiagnosing a bipolar sufferer with depression can give you really bad outcomes, for example-- but-- I don't know? I don't know.

I just want to be able to start and finish projects. What I'd really love is to be able to make to-do lists meaningfully, as that is an ability I did used to have and now absolutely don't. I legit cannot make a to-do list in any meaningful or useful way.

So we'll see. I'm going to keep a journal and the real test of whether the pills work is to see whether I can actually keep the journal.

But I need to find some kind of edible hat, at some point, just to keep my word.

[marsbutterfly]

Oh, What A View

Summary: After the war is over, you are left to tend for the poor soldiers whose minds got broken in the process. One specific man catches your attention.

Warnings: unprotected, vaginal sex, creampie, cum leaking, oral sex (m! receiving), titty fucking, cum play, accidental voyeurism. | a/n: Hobo!Eren and Nurse! Reader concepts are originally aleks' (@princess-jaeger) <3

Wattpad! | Ao3! | Hobo! Eren Yeager x Nurse! Reader

“They did it!” The news broke loose not long after the event actually happened. All the newspapers, radio stations, and gossipers were talking about it, the end of the four-year-long war between Marley and the Mid-East forces had finally come to an end when a peace treaty was signed after the military destroyed their fleet.

Information traveled so fast that you were barely able to tell what was true and what wasn’t. The only concrete information you had was that Marley’s win was a real achievement and hundreds of mentally and physically scarred soldiers were on their way to your care.

It would take them a few days to get back from Fort Slava and, in the meantime, you find yourself preparing extra beds and blankets to care for those in need.

When the time goes by and the soldiers finally arrive, you watch closely as one of the warrior candidates assists a man who has been scared by the guard leading them towards the hospital, “ugh, typical,” you think to yourself, annoyed by the way those poor people are being treated. Not that there is anything you can do about it.

A week passes and, during those seven days, not a lot happens amidst the broken soldiers. It is a day like any other, medicine rounds begin going around and, with each passing patient, you mark an x next to their name. With the assistance of the other nurses, you get around pretty quickly.

“Has bed five B gotten her medication yet?” You ask one of the other nurses as you flip over the pages on your clipboard, not fully paying attention to what it is that they are currently talking about. If it didn’t involve the patients in your care, you wouldn’t give it a second thought.

“Yeah,” the short-haired nurse responds, dipping two of her fingers into the bag of chips. She brings the wavy food into her mouth before rubbing her fingers together, getting rid of the dust. It is more than clear to you that she doesn’t take her job very seriously, “The only one left is bed fourteen A.”

“Mr. Kruger?” You inquire, bringing the board close to your chest. The other woman shrugs, licking the orange powder off of her fingertips.

“He’s only willing to cooperate when you are the one doing his care,” she says and you can’t help but look away, a deep blush taking over your cheeks as you now stare at the ground. You had indeed been exchanging a few glances here and there with the man, but you wouldn’t think he would go as far as to refuse treatment from anyone but yourself.

Clearing your throat, you nod. With one hand, you bring the clipboard down towards your thigh, and with the other, you reach for a small cup containing a couple of pain pills, one antipsychotic and one antidepressant. It’s a decent cocktail, enough to cause a grown adult to relax.

The sound of your heels colliding with the floor fills the nearly empty hallway, the only exceptions being a few soldiers who sit in their designated wheelchairs, one of them with a book in hand as he reads the words on the page carefully and the other one slamming his head against the wall.

Your hand trembles, a nervous sweat dripping down the side of your head as you touch the handle on the door. The patient himself has never been anything but a gentleman but it is the people around him that worry you, after all, no more than a week has gone by since the military dumped the broken soldiers into the hospital.

With a deep breath, you enter the room without knocking. A small tv plays the same program it did the day before and the men and women sit around it like flies attracted to the light. A couple of them sit on a broken table, marked cards in their hands as they play a game similar to poker, though you can’t decipher what it is.

One woman, in particular, draws the same symbol over and over again with barely usable markers, mumbling words that feel like an incantation based on the number of times she has told you she is a witch. She is harmless overall, though can still be quite difficult when it comes the time to take her medicine.

With one glance around the room, you come to the conclusion that the patient you are searching for is nowhere to be seen inside the small room and it means that he could either be sitting on the bench outside or simply lying in bed in his room.

Making sure not to touch anyone, you make your way towards the massive window, eyes searching for the long-haired man in question. Once you realize that you can’t find him, you decide that it is time to look in the very last place and, if he wasn’t there, you would have to call the guards.

So you rush up the stairs towards the last room on the third floor, where all the physically disabled patients were being kept. It seemed like extremely poor management, considering that most of them weren’t able to walk down the stairs, but it is not like the Marleyan government cared about these men too much.

From underneath the door, you see a shadow hopping around on crutches and it could only mean that he is awake. Unlike the other nurses, you like to knock on the door, making sure that they understand how valuable their privacy is to you. 

Inside the room, a low, husky voice speaks as the shadow is now facing towards the wooden surface, “Come on in.” Your heart skips a beat for a second, the tone of his voice is deep and you can feel a dreamy sigh exhaling from your body as you twist the doorknob.

“Mr. Kruger?” You inquire, peaking your head inside the room, the hand that holds the medicine cup also bringing the clipboard closer to your body. His emerald green eye pierces right through you and a warmth grows on your face, even if there is absolutely no light to them, “I’m passing around medication.”

“Ah, I see,” the man exhales a response, extending the hand that does not hold the crutch forward to take it out of your hands. You wish you could offer him some juice or even water to drink the medication with but such luxuries were forbidden. It doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, however. 

He takes a deep breath before swinging his head and the cup backward. You can see the movement of his neck as he swallows the pills with amusing ease. Once he is done, his tongue brushes through chapped lips, moisturizing the area as best as he possibly can.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says in that exact same low voice, not shifting it in the slightest. You can feel as his eyes go through your body, taking in the full image of your silhouette and you can’t help but tug at the edge of your skirt, pulling it down in hopes of calming yourself down.

He begins to take a few steps closer and you feel as your legs gain a life of their own, backing your body against the door as you use your free hand to search for the handle, desperately looking for an out. Before you have time to fully take in what is happening, the man is standing before you, his hand touching the wood a little off to the side as he traps you in the space between the door and his body.

The man doesn’t say anything, he simply stands there. His breath is warm and there is a familiar scent to it though you can’t fully identify what it is. One of his eyes is bandaged up and you bring your hand to his face, your thumb brushing against the cloth gently so as not to hurt him.

“Does it hurt?” You ask, cursing yourself for saying it out loud and he shrugs.

“I have gotten used to it at this point,” is all he replies with. He eventually lets go of the crutch, now using your body to balance himself up. His grip on your waist is tight as his fingernails dig through your skin through the cloth of your clothes, but you don’t complain. In fact, it feels good to have him touch you.

You can’t help but exhale loudly, dropping the clipboard in your hand to the ground. When it collides with the surface, it makes a loud sound and immediately the man brings his index finger over your lips, telling you to shush, even if he knows that nobody would care about it, not the nurses and not the broken soldiers.

His lips ghost above yours, so close that you can already taste them, though he doesn’t give in so easily, he wants you to speak, he likes to hear your voice, “Tell me something you have never told anyone,” he requests.

It takes you a second to think and, in that time, he has lifted the edge of your dress, fingers brushing through the silk of your underwear as he carefully watches as the fabric makes its way past your thighs. He doesn’t stop until he can see your belly button, that’s when he shifts his focus to opening the front of your uniform.

You can’t find any words seeing as your brain betrays you, all of your thoughts are targeted at the man’s touch. His vision is focused on you and, without breaking eye contact, his mouth closes on your right nipple. Eren sucks on the hardened bud while your eyes are closed shut in pleasure. 

He lets go of the nipple with a pop, then proceeds to bite down, blow a bit of cool air, and watch it as it becomes erect, then goes back to sucking on the bug. Licking, biting, sucking. It goes on. You couldn’t help the erotic sounds that come from deep within your throat.

Lust exploded from a place inside his chest and he couldn’t help but let it take over his actions. You cradle his head against yours; keeping him in place. Letting go of your nipple, he moves on to your left breast to give it the same attention. 

Though before he resumes the activity, he asks you the question again, a firmer tone this time and a threat of stopping if you didn’t respond quickly. You scramble to find something inside of your nearly empty mind but finally, something comes up.

“I have a collection of sex toys,” you whisper underneath your breath, afraid that anyone but him would hear your confession. He smiles, bringing his lips around your nipple once more before giving it the attention you so desperately craved. With every flick of his tongue, you could feel the wetness as it pooled in your underwear. “Now will you tell me your first name?”

You puff out your chest, giving him better access to your previously hidden breast. Your arms are pressed against the wall, hands balled into fists as you try and turn your head away from the scene in embarrassment. 

The man pulls your body towards him but before you have a chance to collapse against his chest, he is pressing you against the window, your cheeks against the glass as he pulls your underwear to the side, wanting to make this nothing more than a quickie, “Eren, Eren Kruger.”

You feel the head of his cock bumping between your legs, seeking for the entrance to your aching core. Closely after, it began to push slowly into you. The sensation as he filled your cunt wasn't one you had felt in a while, not even on those private, lonely occasions when you’d lay in bed, thinking about him and the encounters you have shared in the past.

You brace yourself against the window as the man buries his length all the way inside of you. Your fantasies seemed so pathetic now, the idea that he would be gentle? Nothing more than a distant dream as Mr. Kruger was known, by you specifically, to be quite rough when he is fucking you.

It isn’t his fault, he would say, there is just something about your juicy, puffy pussy that would make all of his senses go out of the window and he would only be able to think with the head of his cock.

Your breath caught in your throat. The pleasure was gathering inside of you. Every thrust drove you further toward ecstasy. You mouthed something incoherent at the streetlights on the wide road below. His hands on your hip pulled and pushed you as he slammed his cock into you, again and again, fucking you careless of your comfort, like you were just a thing, a doll.

Your breasts are pressed against the window, hands gripping at the curtains as tightly as you can while supporting both of your bodies, he holds you up by wrapping his arms underneath your knees and his cock never leaves the warmth of your cunt, not even for a second.

“People might see us,” you say, drool pooling on the corner of your lips. Wetness drips down your pussy, coating not only his member but the back of your thighs. He is rough, rougher than usual but at every step, no matter how tough his words are, he makes sure that you are ok.

“Then let them see,” he hisses, pumping his hips forward while lowering your body on his cock, allowing more of his length to enter your aching cunt and you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure, “Let them see what a slut you are.”

“Mr. Kruger,” you moan his name quietly, trying to attract as little attention to you as possible, “It feels so good.” Your underwear is still pulled to the side but the fabric now comes in contact with your throbbing clit, rubbing the area ever so gently with his every thrust. A heartbeat passes and you correct yourself, “Eren.”

“I know what you like,” he says and you can tell he has a shit-eating grin on his face just by the way his voice sounded. You open your eyes to make sure nobody is watching the two of you, gripping the curtains hard in the process before allowing your head to fall backward.

A part of you secretly wishes that somebody would walk in, that somebody would catch the two of you in the most embarrassing of situations and you would have to acknowledge that you were having filthy sex with one of your patients, but you would rather live in denial.

He shifts ever so gently and finally hits the spot he was so desperately searching for, you have to bite down on your lip not to let out a loud gasp. You clench your butthole tightly, squeezing your muscles around him and he giggles, an amused laugh as he continues to pound into you, “Here, huh?” He teases.

You want to respond with an insult, something to wipe that smug smirk off of his lips but your vocal cords and your brain betray you at that moment and all you can think about is how delicious it feels to be fucked by him. 

The man proceeds to place the tip of your toes onto the window’s sill, spreading your folds apart and giving the passing people on the outside of the facility a perfect view of your stuffed pussy. It’s embarrassing and you can’t help but blush, but not a single part of you wishes to stop.

The man’s long hair sticks to the side of his neck, sweat exhaling from his pores with every thrust of his unstable hips, his mustache is coated in a layer of fluids and he readjusts for a second, pressing your body even further up against the window, your nipples becoming hard as they come in contact with the cold glass.

He brings his lips towards your neck, his tongue generously going through every inch of skin available, the bun on your hair, once elegant and now messy, threatens to fall and if it wasn’t for the lack of one of his legs, Eren would have already used his hand to take it down.

Your nails are rough and so is he, gravity leaving you bouncing on his cock harder and deeper than usual. Suddenly you don’t care that people outside might see you, you don’t care about anything but the angling of your lover’s hips and his ragged breaths against your neck.

“Keep moving just like that, baby,” he whispers against your skin and you take his words as an incentive to continue moving yourself on his cock.

You wrap an arm around his shoulder as you feel yourself unraveling and you moan into the glass. You are still trembling when he lowers you down, gripping one hand to your waist. Even though his pace now is faster than before, a hard thrust that shoves you forward into the window, and bracing your hand against the glass, you beg him for more. You need him now, need him closer than it is possible for two people to be.

“You’re going to make me come, Eren,” you say and he presses your body further against the window with a thudding sound, while the ripping of your underwear can also be heard. The cloth simply falls to the ground.

“Then come for me baby,” when finally you feel yourself tightening around his cock, a wave of an intense orgasm washing over you, you rock your hips against him, Eren moaning with you at the feel of your quivering muscles. You want people to see you now, to see them gasping in jealousy.

He witches, holding you perfectly in place for a few seconds, and his warm cum begins to flow inside of you, filling your body with sensations you could never grow too used to. So much comes out that eventually, you felt as the warmth began to squirt onto the glass and down your thighs.

Not a word leaves his lips so you are the first one to break the silence, “You made a mess, Mr. Kruger. Would you like me to clean it up?” A devious smile curls into his lips, though you cannot see it for he is hiding his face on the back of your neck, but you can feel as the corners twitch in excitement.

Slowly and carefully, he raises your body one more time, pulling his cock out from its newly found home inside of you. Your toes touch the ground, finding footing enough for the rest of your feet. It’s a slow process but, soon enough, you find yourself kneeling before him.

You raise his shirt and begin to kiss his stomach, starting just above the belly button. His body collides with the window, one hand searching for balance as he holds onto the ledge while the other is tangled around the back of your head, playing with your hair in a desperate attempt to show you what he has in mind. You cooperate slowly, letting him guide you down. It takes less than a minute before your mouth gets to the happy trail above his pubes.

His cock is right there, inches from your face. You hesitate for a second, wondering if a blowjob would be the best way to reward him. You decide on something better but, to prepare him for it, you run your tongue along the shaft, getting it wet with your saliva and you can taste the mixture of your juices and his, it’s still warm and quite salty.

It’s difficult and messy to navigate with just your mouth, but you do the best you can. Starting with kitten licks along his slit. The taste of his cum floods your tongue making you salivate.

You meet his eyes to find him still smiling, the corner of his mouth pulling up more into a smirk. He knows what he is doing to you. So you continue your motions down his shaft. Licking lightly along veins, drool escaping as you do. 

Clearly, this was the wrong choice, everything about this situation seemed wrong. As soon as you are halfway down, he begins to set the pace and it is relentless. Using you a hole more than a person.

You remove him from your mouth and move your hands towards your chest, unbuttoning the uniform you wear. Your hard nipples tingle in the cool air. You move up again, breasts large enough to cover his entire cock. He looked down at you in shock, but the devious smirk on his lips never ceased.

"I want you to cum between my tits,” you announce to him, knowing that is exactly the kind of stuff he wants to hear you say.

He simply moans as he thrust up against you. You respond by moaning as well, your breasts have always been sensitive, and react to his hips being pushed against them quite well. His hands come down, joining yours in squeezing your breasts around his cock. "Oh, shit." He hisses, his thrusting speeding up as he finds a rhythm, "You feel amazing."

You smile up at him. He doesn’t look like he'd last much longer, "That's it, baby, fuck my tits. Cum all over them."

"Uh... ohh fuck..." that is all he manages to say as a warning, his fingers begin digging onto the soft skin of your breasts, and his cock starts pulsing in its place between your boobs. You can feel wetness spreading, most of it being squeezed out and forming in a pool on your cleavage.

You continue to rub the shaft, looking at the mess he made. You can’t control yourself and your mind slowly slips away, rubbing his warm cum all over. There was enough to cover your breasts in his cum and have left over on your fingers. "There is so much, baby, and you just came not too long ago.”

“You’re just so fucking hot,” he pants, removing his hand from your breast to bring his cum coated fingers towards your lips. He pushes through gently, silently asking for permission before you open wide to receive him.

Your tongue swirls around his digits, fully taking in the flavors he is offering you. The viscous liquid drips against your taste buds and you continue to do so until his fingers are removed from your mouth completely clear, the only thing still coating them is a thick layer of your saliva.

As he places his cock back into his pants, Eren shakes his head, removing the hair from his eye. You are still on your knees, searching in your pockets for something that could be used as a tissue to clean the cum off of your bare chest.

“No,” Eren says, his voice is firm and it echoes through the almost completely empty room. You pause your movements for a second, wondering what he is talking about before he continues, “I want you to have my cum on your chest until you go home. A little reminder of me.”

“But, Mr. Kruger,” you try to reason with him, watching as he extends you a hand in the hopes of assisting you as you get up, “People will know.”

“After the little show we just gave them,” he smirks, buttoning up the top and covering your cum soaked cleavage, “I doubt many people don’t know about it already.”

You can’t help but blush in embarrassment, flustered cheeks facing away from him as you try to hide your emotions from him. You didn’t know what came over you, a public display such as the one you just experienced, and with an eldian no less, oh what the marleyan government would do to you if they figured it out.

A thousand thoughts go through your head in the span of a minute or so. Unconsciously, you begin to gather around your clipboard and the papers that fell out of it while you were busy being kissed by the man, and, before you have time to realize it, he has already walked out of the door and is on his way out of the courtyard.

You wipe away the steam off the window to find him sitting on the bench, he props his body up on the crutches as he speaks with one of the clinically insane patients. It takes a second for you to realize it is one of your patients, so you begin to make your way down the stairs, carefully enough not to fall but moving your feet at an incredibly quick pace.

Once you are finally there, you speak to him again, “I’m sorry, I looked away for two seconds,” you say, though your voice trembles with the thoughts of how the two of you were linked together mere moments ago. He shrugs, no light in his eyes.

“I don’t care,” he says, pretending not to know you. You knew how little you meant to him but still, to hear not a shred of empathy in his voice was enough to cause your heart to break. So you simply sigh, putting on a fake smile.

As you walk away, arm wrapped around your patient, you feel a cold breeze down against your free pubes and you finally realize that nothing is protecting your cunt, “Where are my panties?” You ask yourself silently, looking back at the man with a desperate look on your face, only to realize he has the cloth attached to his nostril, taking in a deep whiff out of it before placing it into his pocket, a smile on his face. That man was truly a devil.

[shina913]

The Boyfriend Experience | MYG

The Boyfriend Experience: Yoongi

The BFE: Masterlist

Pairing: Escort!Yoongi x Divorcee Fem!Reader

Rating: M🔞

Genre: sex!workAU; strangers to ? ; angst; smut;

Warnings: alcohol consumption; cussing; mentions of antidepressant; gynecology; mentions of divorce; bits of self-pity and low-self-esteem; legal sex work (in this AU); fingering; dirty talk; clit play; protected penetrative sex; aftercare

Word count: ~8.2k words

Summary: 💬 When I saw my gynecologist recently after not having sex for a year, she told me, ‘You need to be having sex.’ She told me that my vagina was 'drying up.’ Sex, in and of itself and for its own sake, is also important for a woman’s physical health. 

A/N: Little disclaimer: the doctor's office part is a spin on this one scene from Sex and the City. I found out that this is a legitimate condition 🥴 I don't really go into detail about it but I also don't mean to offend anyone who is actually suffering from this condition so I apologize! It's only a small part of the plot.

A/N: Thank you to @/itdoesntmatterwhy and @/purplewhalewrites for reading through this and for your super helpful suggestions to get this installment going. It's been kind of a struggle to get the storyline straight for this one so...I hope you all like how this Yoongi turned out. Enjoy! 😘

You are hypnotized by the bubbles in your champagne. You watch the tiny orbs floating and fizzling up to the surface…much like many of the realities you’d encountered in recent days.

Three days ago, you were at a doctor’s appointment for your annual exam. You’d been experiencing some discomfort down in your lady parts.

After making her assessment, the doctor prompts you to sit up on the exam table. You straighten your posture, adjust the hospital gown behind your shoulder, smooth the paper blanket over your lap, and anticipate her professional advice.

As she scribbles on her prescription pad, she says, “I’m prescribing you an antidepressant.”

“I-I’m sorry…I’m confused. An antidepressant? B-but I don’t think that—“

She looked up from her dark-framed glasses. “Oh, it’s not for you.” Then she cocks her eyebrow and gestures below your waist. “It’s for your vagina.”

“Uhm…okay, now I’m even more confused.” It was the understatement of the century.

“The discomfort you’re feeling is due to some dryness,” she begins to explain. “I’m also prescribing a topical gel with some hormones to help with lubrication.”

“Lubrication?” You ask incredulously.

“Yes,” she smiled politely. “I would recommend abstaining from any sexual activity for about 24-48 hours to allow the gel to work its magic but after that, you can get right back on that pony!”

“Well, abstaining shouldn’t be a problem then. I’ve been sexually in-active for a while, so what’s another two days?” You joked.

Your doctor’s eyebrows furrowed. “You haven’t had sex in–how long?”

You’d already gone through this line of questioning from the pre-assessment intake that her assistant had done before your doctor entered the room. Didn’t she check your records?

She looked at her laptop and scrolled up. “A year?”

“Yes…give or take,” you replied quietly.

In actuality, it was a little bit longer than that. It’s been over a year since you and your ex-husband, Jihoon, separated and began divorce proceedings. Months before he moved out, intimacy was already scarce, bordering on nonexistent.

The doctor’s mouth falls open at your confirmation. “Oh, honey…” She pulled her glasses off.

You and Dr. Cabrera have known each other for years. You both spoke freely and casually when the situation called for it.

“You need to be having sex. And no, it doesn’t need to be with an actual dick. There are other ways, too.” Her lips thinned into a tight line as she gave you a knowing look.

You roll your eyes at her. “Don’t you think I know that, Mina? It’s just that I haven’t been motivated to date…” Much less touch myself. “Ever since Jihoon—“

“Ah, fuck him!” She waved you off. “Girl, you need some regular activity in your vaj, okay? And not just for pleasure but for your health!”

She goes on to lecture you more about vaginal health and how it goes hand-in-hand with sexual health. If your ex was getting all the sex he could elsewhere, there was no logical reason to be depriving yourself.

“You need constant stimulation! That’s why your coochie is depressed!”

Another reason to be depressed? Receiving a written notification from the courts this morning, telling you that you and Jihoon were legally divorced now. It was a tough reality to face. For the longest time, you were both unhappy. Breaking up was a foregone conclusion and yet–seeing it written on paper, in bold letters, still felt like a swift kick in the lady balls.

“What are you celebrating?” You are snapped back to reality by a voice.

“Hm?” You were so lost in thought, you had no idea how long you’d been staring at your champagne flute.

You turn your head to find a man, standing about two feet away, his elbow resting on the back of one of the bar stools next to you. His hair was long, ending just a couple of inches below his earlobes; it was loosely brushed back, one side tucked behind his ear while the other had a few strands falling right above his eyebrows.

He wore a dark, tailored suit–formal, understated elegance but with a hint of approachability since he’d skipped wearing a tie. Despite that, he still looked like a million bucks.

The lounge was nearly empty as the night waned. A handful of customers were still meandering about, sitting in the plush tables and chairs situated by the wall.

Even though you were the only one seated at the bar, you weren’t sure whether he was addressing you.

“Are you talking to me?”

He kept his gaze on you. “I am,” he smiled softly. He then gestured to the chair next to you. “May I?”

“S-sure.” With another smile, he saunters over and settles into the seat. He points to your drink again. “So, one usually orders champagne to celebrate something, right?”

“Oh, this?” You lift your glass and then shake your head. “I’m not sure if I would exactly categorize tonight as a ‘celebration’.”

The corner of his mouth quirks in a half-smile. “Maybe you should have ordered a whisky instead?”

You laughed wryly at his comment then thought, maybe you should have–especially after the week that you had.

He calls the bartender over. They smile and make small talk as if they’d known each other for years.

You frequented this lounge at least twice a month in the last six or seven months after your girlfriends dragged you out to dinner here once. Eventually, you’d gone out on your own to have a cocktail or two, whenever the kids were with their dad for the weekend.

Coming to L’Atelier beat drinking at home on your own. You didn’t socialize much on your nights out but at least you were drinking at a nice place. It was a small comfort and you just wanted to unwind after busy weekdays shuttling your children around.

This was the first time anybody had actually approached you–apart from the bartender and the occasional ‘Is this seat taken’ question from random men trying to hit on women who sat next to you.

After this man places his drink order, he turns his attention back to you.

“Do you come here often?” Your question sounded like a terrible cliche but it was the best you could muster. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

The bartender clears their throat and presents the man with his drink.

He thanks the bartender before he answers, “Yes, I’m here pretty regularly,” he smiled enigmatically. “Maybe you just haven’t noticed me.”

Haven’t noticed him? Nonsense! You most definitely would have noticed him if he walked into a room. Was your sad vagina making you blind, too?

“I’ve seen you once or twice, though,” he says before taking a sip of the amber liquid from his glass, his eyes never leaving you.

“Oh?” You ask nervously.

“Yeah. I come here often for…business meetings,” he rationalizes. “Have you been offered a seat at the chef’s table yet?”

You frowned in confusion. After coming to this place many times before, this was the first time you’d ever heard of an option to have a seat at the chef’s table.

“I don’t think I have. Sounds exclusive,” you remarked.

“It is but I know the owner and I can bring you in as a guest.” After a beat, he asks, “Would you like to take advantage of it?”

Tempting as it was, you cross your legs and decline politely. “That’s alright. I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not,” he says. “I’d be happy to show you what offerings the restaurant has. The chef always has something that will satisfy any appetite.”

You stopped to consider your answer. Was he trying to pick you up or were you trying to read too much into an innocent offer?

You gulped your nervousness down your throat. “No, it’s not that. I’m, uh…” You scrambled to think of an answer. How could you tell this man that you hadn’t gone out on a date in a long time and that you were rusty when it came to settings like this so you’d prefer not to embarrass yourself.

His expression suddenly shifts to a look of realization. “S-sorry, I’m not trying to be a creeper. If you're with someone or just want to be alone–”

You shook your head and answer meekly. “No, no. I’m here by myself.” Then, you decide you’d dare to take a chance. What was the harm in enjoying a drink with someone?

“I don’t mind the company, either.”

To quell any further awkwardness, he introduces himself. “I’m Yoongi, by the way.”

After giving him your name, you can't help but notice that your breath hitches as he shakes your hand firmly. "Pleasure to meet you.”

“Please! The pleasure is all mine,” he says with a smile, his hold still lingering on your skin.

******

It was hard to pinpoint what exactly made him attractive to you but you narrowed it down to a combination of his looks, personality, and confidence–the confidence, especially! And no, it wasn’t the type of confidence that was synonymous with arrogance or cockiness.

It was the quiet self-assurance that he exuded, where his ego took a backseat and you took center stage.

It was a refreshing experience since the man you were married to for years was very much into asserting his masculinity, especially when you first started dating. Admittedly, you’d found that attractive at one point in your life.

That was half of Yoongi’s charm. The other half of it was the element of seduction. He knew and understood how seduction worked.

In the short amount of time that he spent with you, it seemed that the trick lay in small things: his cologne, outfit, laughter, eye contact, and subtle touches–his knees brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat…they all added up.

You don’t recall Jihoon putting that much effort into your relationship, much less coaxing your own self-esteem to the forefront. You chalked it up to the fact that you were both so young and had been together for a long time. You didn’t have many points of comparison, relationship-wise.

“You seem like a really great person,” he says. “Why are you out here by yourself?”

You eventually relay that you’d come here to enjoy some ‘me-time’.

“Interesting,” he says. “And what do you typically do when you’re not alone?”

“Well, I have a day job and children who keep me busy.”

“Oh, you have children?”

“Yes,” you reply. “Two boys–currently with their dad. It’s his weekend.” You try but fail to hide the bitterness behind your tone. The tight smile you gave Yoongi was a dead giveaway, too.

You were fully expecting him to pepper you with questions, questions that you weren’t quite ready to hash out with a stranger.

“I see.” His tone had a finality to it, sensing your apprehension about expanding on your recent divorce.

You tilt your head back and down the last drops of your drink, thankful that he decides not to pry.

“Last call!” The bartender announces to the whole room before turning to you. “Can I get you anything else, miss?”

You shook your head in response and start to dig for your credit card to settle your tab. When they turn to Yoongi, who also declines any more drinks, he makes a request instead. “Junho-ssi, can you put her tab on mine?”

“Oh gosh–no, please–”

“I insist!” He hands his credit card to the bartender, effectively ending your protests.

******

You, along with the last few customers from the restaurant, walk out through the expansive foyer and toward the main exit. The restaurant staff begins to shut the lights off but leaves the lounge illuminated. You’d never been around for closing time so you found the whole scene novel.

A tall, handsome man dressed in a bespoke suit struts out of the backroom, which you assumed was the office. You’d seen him before, in passing. One of your girlfriends pointed out that he owned the place.

You part ways with Yoongi when the owner stops to greet him.

What was the owner’s name again?

“Jin-hyung,” Yoongi greets him in return, answering your unspoken question. They share a friendly hug and exchange pleasantries.

“I thought you left hours ago?“ Jin asks him.

“I was on my way out but I decided to hang around the lounge for a bit.”

Not wanting to linger, you walk out to the front of the restaurant to call yourself a rideshare. While you wait, you think about how this evening turned out to be a pleasant surprise to you. You walked into the bar, thinking you’d have a few drinks, and wallow in self-pity for a bit before you returned home to slip into your pajamas and fall asleep while a Beat Bobby Flay marathon plays in the background.

“Did you drive here?”

Your thoughts are interrupted by Yoongi, who was now standing next to you.

“Nah, I knew I was drinking so I just took a car over here.”

You shifted nervously. You hardly thought of yourself as ‘confident’ and it’s been a long time since you’ve been in the dating scene. You were out of practice after all these years but how else did you expect to jumpstart your sex life?

Besides, it’s been well over 72 hours since your gynecological treatment. By doctor’s orders–you should be good to go.

You found yourself speaking the words before you thought through them clearly. “I don’t know if you have any plans tonight but would you like to come over and have a few more drinks?”

******

Once you and Yoongi walked into your home, all that confidence remained at your doorstep and never followed you past the threshold.

Luckily, you found an unopened bottle of vintage red in your kitchen, which you offered to him.

After a few sips in, you clear your throat. “Listen, I have a confession to make.”

He shifted in his seat, prompting you to continue. “What’s that?”

“I…I don’t…do this kind of thing often. You know, bring men home. I hope that you don’t think ill of me for stringing you along like this.”

He smiled, looking calm and not at all disappointed. “And why would I think that?”

Not knowing why he couldn’t see the obvious answer, you shrug. “I realize that I hadn’t thought this through. I don’t want you to think that I’m reckless or easy.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you’ve offended me.” His tone remained even and his expression was soft.

“I didn’t know if you were expecting to get laid or whatever,” you say anxiously.

“When a woman invites me back to her place, I never expect anything to happen. There’s always the hope but I’m honestly content with whatever she wants to do.”

You scoffed in disbelief. “You’re telling me that men don’t expect sex all the time?”

“I’m not like other men, unfortunately,” he answers. “I have a slightly different perspective, especially in my line of work.”

Your brows knit in curiosity. You’d come to realize that you hadn’t asked what exactly he did for work. You’d been too enraptured with his charm, happily talking about yourself while he listened to every word you said.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but what do you do for work?”

“I’m an escort,” he says matter-of-factly.

If memory serves, that meant– “Oh my god. Oh my god…” Your scalp prickles immediately. Setting your glass down on the coffee table, you abruptly get up from your seat and start to pace around your living room. “W-why didn’t you tell me that right away? Why did–”

“I’m sorry. Our conversation was going so well earlier that I didn’t feel the need to slip it in. I didn’t think you’d invite me over.”

“Wait! Do I have to pay you? Is this…are you going to charge me for this?” You stammered in a panic.

His voice was soft and reassuring. "Relax. When I approached you, I thought you were a client - that's why I asked if you'd been offered the chef's table. It's kind of like the secret password," he reveals. "But since it didn't seem like you knew anything about it, I made the conscious decision to spend time with you. So, to answer your question: no, I am not charging you. I'm here because I want to be here.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief. Your head was spinning. A ‘secret password’? Was there a hidden brothel at the restaurant? You had so many questions!

“I understand that this is overwhelming and I don’t mean to freak you out any further. If I’m making you uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll leave. ” He raised his hands up, further conveying his point. “No harm done.”

He stood up and collected his jacket which was neatly draped over the couch cushion.

Your mind was still racing. What would it mean if you asked him to stay? He says that he’s not charging you but was it enough that you’d take his word for it?

You stop your pacing and turn to look at him.

Sure, you could make him leave and forget that this ever happened. Nobody has to know, nobody needs to know.

…Exactly. Nobody needs to know.

“Wait,” you answer softly. “Could you stay a little longer?”

******

It took a few minutes of some awkward, borderline-invasive questions about his job. You were understandably curious and he was a very patient interview subject. He kept most details vague–presumably, to keep some ‘trade secrets’ under wraps–he was fairly open about his work.

You learned that there was a specific app where his clients can book him and that he often stops by the restaurant, which had a secret lounge, for discreet meet-ups.

“So, you’re saying it’s not just all sex all the time for you?”

He threw his head back in laughter. “It’s not. Sometimes, some clients just want to talk–just like we’re doing now. That’s what our back room is for.”

“Right, but what are the chances that you don’t, I don’t know, get it in before the end of your date?”

He lets out another chuckle. “This may be hard to believe but there are times when some of my dates just want someone to keep them company. And yes, there are times when all they want is physical contact the whole time we’re together.”

“Huh…okay.” You internally fan yourself. “You can tell me to stop if I’m being annoying!”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Normally, I just talk to the other guys I work with since we all have to be discreet. So, talking to you about it feels liberating…on a different level. By the way, I love this red,” he comments at the wine.

You smile at his compliment before sinking into the couch cushions–internalizing this brand-new perspective. You marveled at the concept, like an awakening of sorts.

Hearing about his experiences and different approaches to each of his relationships with his clients fascinated you. On the other hand, it also made you think about how much you missed out on when you were younger.

He notices that you’ve fallen silent. “What are you thinking?”

“Just how little I know about relationships and…sex.” You sighed softly.

“What do you mean?”

You thought about how quickly that year passed, focusing on distracting yourself with work, and your kids so you wouldn’t have to think about how Jihoon was living his best life, with a newer, younger partner.

You didn’t have time for that. You had your babies to take care of. You had to stay focused for them!

Shaking your head, you say, “I don’t know. I guess I find myself being unreasonably envious of these women whom I’ve never met.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m envious at how they’re able to explore their sexuality without…being judged or looked down on. Like, I’m definitely not in my 20s anymore, you know? The concept of dating or even going out to get a drink doesn’t seem appropriate for someone like me.”

“Someone like you? You mean a woman?”

“Someone who has a full plate,” you counter.

“Is it full, though?” He asks skeptically.

You scoffed. “Well, yes! I have my job, then my kids—“

“But your kids aren’t here. You just said that they’re spending the weekend at their dad’s.”

“Right. Still, I don’t know if I have the time—“

“I’m sure you can make time now that you and your ex have joint custody. Don’t you think he enjoys himself when you have your kids while he has his own me-time?”

“Yes, but he’s a man. It’s different for women.”

“Surely you still have desires or fantasies? There’s no gender or age limit for that.”

You shrugged. “Isn’t there? Sometimes, I feel like I’m past it.”

He lets out a disbelieving laugh. “What do you mean to say, ‘you’re past it’? You don’t like sex anymore?”

His incredulity stings you a bit, maybe because he seemed young and had sex with several people often. “It’s possible! And you know what, maybe it’s just been too long for me and you know, they always say, you either use it or lose it.”

Yoongi stares at you, mouth agog, and utterly dumbfounded by your ridiculous theory.

“Can you do me a favor and humor me, just a little? I think that’s only fair, right?” After your interrogation, it did seem like a fair exchange so you nod your head, prompting him to continue.

“Tell me what you loved about sex. It could be the lead-up to it, a specific action, or the experience as a whole. What is it?”

You paused at his question. Your lips puckered as you thought about your answer. After a few more seconds, you finally answer, “Weirdly, it doesn’t have anything to do with any kind of penetration.”

He laughed so hard his shoulders vibrated. “I thought penetration was everyone’s favorite part?”

You tutted. “Nuh-uh. Not me.”

He eyed you quietly while he awaits your answer. “I’m at the edge of my seat here,” he chuckled.

You laughed in return. “Okay, okay. It’s kissing.”

His lips and eyebrows quirked in curiosity. “Interesting choice. Doesn’t ‘kissing’ still technically involve some kind of penetration?”

“I guess,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at the same time. “But to me, kissing means more than just getting it in.” You pause again to think of the correct metaphor. “It’s like the prologue and the epilogue to sex.”

His eyes flickered with renewed interest while you elaborated. “You know, when you like someone or find them attractive enough, you imagine what it’s like to kiss them, right? The thought consumes you until you finally get that opportunity to do it.”

He continued to regard you intently, hanging onto your every word. “You start off feeling and tasting…and then you slowly melt into it. Your hands start to explore, clearly wanting more of that person.” You smiled wistfully, “One of my favorite things to do is finding out how long I could keep my mouth sealed to my partner’s while we undress each other. And then the thrill of breaking that kiss–for just a few moments–so you could strip that last piece of clothing off them–then you get right back into it.”

You watched his chest rise and fall, his gaze still hot on you.

“After all is said and done–after you both ride out your highs and your bodies are trembling from intense pleasure, your only source of calm and comfort is falling into those kisses again.” When you finish, you press your lips into a hard line and stare back at him.

“Wow,” he choked out after a few beats.

You wave your hands dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I know it sounds crazy and delusional,” you scoffed.

He disagreed. “On the contrary, I think that you make a very compelling argument for kissing.”

You sighed ruefully, “It was just something that my ex and I stopped doing many years ago. I felt like that was the beginning of the end.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he remarked sincerely.

“Yeah, me too.”

You looked away to take another sip of your drink while his gaze remained on you. When you turn your attention back to him, he asks, “I’d like to do that for you, if you’ll let me.”

You cocked your eyebrow in suspicion. “Do what?”

“I want to give you that feeling again.”

You frowned in confusion. “What feeling?”

“The feeling you get from a kiss.”

Your eyes bulged in amusement before laughing. “What? That was like, some desperate wish from a sad lady.”

“If that’s how you want to see it, fine. But I am here, sincerely asking if I could kiss you.”

“Oh my god, Yoongi–” Your forehead creased, trying to make out whether he was for real or just pulling your leg.

“I’m not bullshitting you, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Then you must be drunk,” you countered.

“Not that drunk,” he demurred. “I am still very much coherent.”

You continued to eye him skeptically for a few seconds.

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. If you say ‘no’, then we’ll move on from this subject and continue on with our night. And I think I’ve made it deliberately clear that I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable at all,” he reassured you.

“I…” The answer was at the tip of your tongue. However, before you say anything else that you feel might be too impulsive, you feel the need to step away to cool off.

“Oh, look at that!” You remark at the empty bottle of wine and reach for it. “I’ll be right back with another. Red, right?“ You hastily make your way back into the kitchen, not waiting for his answer.

******

After retrieving a bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge, you puff your flushed cheeks out and fan yourself. It was definitely the alcohol…coupled with the fact that Yoongi’s presence was lowering your inhibitions further.

All that bullshit you spewed about not having the desire? Being ‘past’ sex? Right. You internally smack yourself.

He wasn’t charging you anyway, what was the harm in a little taste? The problem was what could happen after the fact. What if you turned out to be insatiable? Could your alimony checks pay for these meetings?

“Shut up, this is crazy!” you mutter to yourself.

And yet, even as you made your way into the kitchen, you were already feeling that familiar tingle in the pit of your stomach. A feeling you thought was long gone, walking out the door along with your ex.

You put the bottle of wine down and center yourself, splaying your fingers onto the counter then lean on it for support.

You try desperately to calm your fluttering pulse.

“Hey.”

You turn your head around to see him entering the kitchen.

Shit, were you taking too long?

“I thought you might need this.” He held up the corkscrew in his hand and then slowly advanced toward you.

You laughed. “Oh…uh…silly me!”

“I got worried so I thought I might check in on you to make sure that you were okay.”

You turn around and attempted to take a step but your knees felt like jelly. So instead, you lean your back against the counter. “I’m fine,” you try to say as evenly as possible. “Also, seems I’m all out of red wine and this is the only one I have left.” You gestured at the bottle on the counter.

Seeing your apprehension in serving it, he asks, “Do you like it?”

Your eyes bulged at his question.

“The wine. Do you like it?” he clarifies.

“I do.”

He gives a small nod. “Well if you like it, I’m sure I’ll like it, too.”

“You said earlier that you preferred to drink red. Do you always adjust your preferences based on whatever your date likes?”

“Mm…so we’re on a date?”

You giggle nervously at your presumptuousness then start blubbering. “I mean–I’m just saying.”

“It’s just a preference,” He interjects cooly. “...but I generally like to keep an open mind about things. I’m not the type who limits myself.”

“Because ‘limits’ are an occupational hazard for you?”

“I may not limit myself but knowing my clients’ limits are helpful for me. I want to know what they want; want to know how much I can give it to them…until they tell me to stop.”

“And how often do they say ‘stop’?” Your question was barely a whisper.

“All the time, actually. Except…” he hissed through his teeth, “…it usually comes after the word, ‘don’t’,” he punctuated.

Your lips seal tightly as if bracing yourself. At this point, you’d made up your mind and wanted to know what it would be like to be intimate with him.

But you still haven’t said the words.

He smiles and takes a few more steps, closing the gap considerably but still leaving room for you to push away from him if you want to. At this point, you didn’t want to push him off but instead felt a visceral need to pull him closer.

He inhaled deeply, like he could smell the want thrumming from your body.

He swallows, leaning in so his face is in your hair. The sound of his breaths sets your body alight…this would be the moment you’d give in to your impulses.

He’d pressed himself against you and you didn’t stop him. You shift, knowingly brushing your thigh against his crotch, his cock stiffening at the contact. He bit into his lips in an effort to suppress a growl but fails at it.

Your skin is hot to the touch and your heart feels as if it’s thumping out of your chest. With his lips still narrowed into a hard line, you lock eyes with him, and he detects that dormant lust lingering in their depths. You gulp and drop your gaze to his lips. Your bodies, now pressed against each other; mind racing, you continue to stare at his mouth. You want to taste him.

“I want you.” His words reverb around the room like an echo.

He moistened his parched lips with his tongue and let out a shaky breath. And maybe it has been that long…but you’d never seen anyone look so desperate to take you. Never felt so paralyzed by desire.

"Can I please... have you?" You can’t imagine he’d ever worked this hard for a fuck.

You never thought of yourself as sexy. You always thought you looked average. But when you're with him, he made you feel unbelievably irresistible. You haven't felt this confident in a while.

His mouth gently grazed the side of your jawline. "Please...tell me I can have you."

Curiosity consumed your body, leaving you no choice but to surrender. Finally, you permit yourself; and in turn, permit him. “Yes.”

You slowly tilt forward until your lips gently meet his but he doesn’t take the lead. Instead, he decides that you should still take it at your own pace, and he’s more than happy with it. It’s slow. Soft. Tender…everything that you hoped it would be.

He presses his hand onto the small of your back, making you arch against his hold.

“Bed?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum your agreement against his mouth.

“Where?”

You fist at his shirt and pull him down the hallway and into your bedroom.

His back hits your door, which slams against the wall, jolting you into his arms. He can do nothing more than keep up with your pace, all while silently demanding you start ridding him of his clothes.

Your tongue circles his mouth, your heads tilting constantly, taking other angles, pulling back, only to crash together once again. It’s wild, messy, yet absolutely incredible.

“You’re so sexy, you know that?”

“You’re just obliged to say those things.”

“I’m not obliged to say or do anything I don’t want to.” He peels off the wall and walks you both farther into your bedroom. “And neither are you.” He backs you in until your legs feel the mattress against them. He turns you around, zipping your dress down. “Do you understand?”

You nod and remain still as he unfastens you and then pushes the dress downward, his eyes falling to the material that pools around your feet.

His hands reach for the clasp of your bra. One flick of his deft fingers releases it, and he notices your shoulders lift. He moves in close and slides his forearm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We can do this however you want. You have control, okay?” He whispers, trying to ease your nerves. You were tense, but not from fear. It was from anticipation.

“Yes,” you respond.

“You’re beautiful and I want us to take our time.” He drags the straps of your bra down your arms until it tumbles to the floor. “We don’t need to rush through this.” Kissing your cheek lightly, he relishes the feel of you pushing closer to him. “I want to remind you how good it can feel.”

You turn and lift your chin to look at him. Without a word, you start to unbutton his shirt, one by one, slowly and purposefully, with a whole range of of thoughts and emotions running through your head.

He lets you undress him at your own speed, resisting the urge to rip his own clothes from his body and toss you on the bed. “Want some help?” He asks to find out what options you’d be open to.

You peer up at him, and he sees apprehension in your gaze. You smile and shake your head ‘no’ softly.

He realizes that even though you’re desperate for him to take you, you have no idea how this will all play out. It’s been so long, and he was the first partner you’d been with in a while. You didn’t know if you wanted it raw and fast or slow and loving.

“Don’t be nervous.” He takes your wrists, instantly feeling you tremble. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“But I want to.” Your gaze drops from his, down his bare torso, your teeth sinking into your lip. “I really…really…do.”

Pulling away from his hold, you push his shirt from his shoulders and place your hands on his pecs. His body feels like it’s just gone up in flames, and his hands twitch, desperate to grab onto you. Ravage you, kiss you…ruin you. The look in your eyes tells him you’re aware of all this because you want to do all of those same things to him.

You reinforce this with a hard kiss on his lips, and he’s instantly overwhelmed by it, his palm going to the back of your head, gently pushing you closer, his mouth opening, inviting you in.

Your hands are everywhere. Your kisses turn sloppy. His actions convey a sense of urgency, making him want to take you hard and fast, show you how good he could be for you. He can feel his control slipping but somehow manages to maintain his hold on those last few strands. He knows this isn’t the time for him to get carried away. He was giving up control to you.

Holding your head in his hands, he slows the tempo of your kiss. Suddenly, it was all coming back to you now. Your hands snake down to the fly of his pants, you undo it and slide them off him, all while keeping your lips locked. He takes you down to the mattress, your tongues dancing slowly, breathing each other’s breath.

You never thought he’d taste this good, even with the hints of alcohol mixed between you. He comes down to rest over you, taking his arms up over your head, leaving your hands free to roam his back, his ass, and eventually his face. You’re both lost and consumed by each other.

He forcibly breaks your kiss to test a theory.

You let out a whine, hating the loss of contact. You lunge at him, wanting to capture his mouth again but he teasingly pulls away. You lean in again and he retreats with a soft chuckle. Finally, you let out a growl, clasp your palms on either side of his face, and aggressively pull him back to you.

His chest rumbled in arousal, and he kisses you back with just as much fervor.

You pant against his mouth, your hands grabbing at his hair, legs locking around his waist, telling him that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Your lips purse, your hands sliding past the waistband of his boxers. You push them over the rise of his ass. “Are you worth every penny?” You cheekily pinch his butt, making him flinch and grin at the same time.

“Yes,” he says simply.

You giggle, then sink your nails into his flesh. He grits his teeth, enduring the sharp pain. “And I’m supposed to just take your word for it?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He raises his eyebrows in warning as your hand glides softly through his dark strands. “But yes, you’d better take my word for it. Let me make you feel good?”

Your lips press together, your hips flexing up, pushing into against his hardon. “Yes,” you breathed out.

With your consent, his lips crash into yours, the slow and steady pace all but forgotten. Wild hands feel down his thighs and start pulling impatiently at his boxers. He fully appreciates your eagerness, taking his own hands to your panties, pushing them down your legs just as impatiently.

You inhale sharply but quickly adopt his method, tugging and squirming to break free of your last bits of clothing.

Until there is nothing but skin on skin. Nothing but the friction of his flesh rubbing all over yours as your bodies entangle, lips and tongues clashing, your moans and hungry gasps filling the room.

His hand grazed your clit lightly, stimulating the sensitive nerves there. Your breath caught and you tilted your head back as he moved down your body, kissing and licking downward until he was past your torso.

His thumb swiping at your soaked folds sends an unexpected shiver up your spine, making you gasp. He’d anticipated a slow build, but after a few light strokes, he realized you were already primed for him.

His fingers continued to work you, pumping at a slow, even, and purposeful pace that increased both the pressure and area with each stroke. His digits were gliding up and down your folds in a slow circuit, coming up to your clit, then down…easing in and out of your aching cunt. Your breaths started to turn ragged, and he took it as his cue to change his pace in bursts, shortening each motion while your orgasm built.

“Oh shit, I’m close,” you choked out as your muscles seized. “Keep going…”

His strokes became shorter as your climax neared. Dipping in and pressing up against the roof of your core, sending you over the edge. He kept the pace until the sensation became unbearable.

The second you felt the first shudders of your orgasm rip through you, you let out an aggressive, high-pitched gasp. You gripped at your sheets, back arching off the mattress as you trembled with relief and satisfaction.

You barely notice him getting off the bed to grab a condom from his pants, which were on the floor. He tears open the foil and carefully rolls the condom down his length.

It doesn’t take much guidance to get his cock resting at your throbbing entrance. You suck in air and hold it, pulling back to get him in your sights. His eyes on you, he nudges his hips a fraction, resisting the urge to pound straight in. “Ready?”

“God, yessss!” You can hardly talk through your desperation so instead, you roll your hips up and take a bit more of him.

He pushed into you, eliciting a small cry from your lips as you adjusted to the stretch.

He swivels his hips, grinding deeply. He flexes his hands over your hips, keeping you pinned against the mattress, withdrawing from your pussy and gliding gently back in.

He watches you melt beneath him, but the slight quiver on your lip worries him. He pauses his movements and loosens his hold on you.

“Are you okay?” His fingers gently brushed your forehead.

With a swift kiss to his lips, you nod. “I’m good.” You sink your nails into his ass and roll your hips onto his, telling him wanted more.

You fist your hands in his hair, moaning in invitation as your body goes into autopilot. You feel his palms squeeze your thighs again, bracing himself as his hips grind against you once more.

You don’t know how you’ve managed to resist him this whole time.

He nips at your bottom lip and releases it, pulling his face away and looking you straight in the eyes. He rolls his hips again, grinding hard against your pelvis, making your core clench tightly. Your head lolls on a deep moan, giving him free access to your throat. He takes full advantage of it, licking and sucking at the hollow.

You could cry with pleasure at how good it felt.

Nuzzling your cheek, he takes your hands and thrust them up on the pillow, he elevates himself a little to get a good look at you. You’re panting in excitement and need. Loving the feel of him inside you. He rolls his hips teasingly. “You like it slow?” He licks his lips, savoring the sight of you breaking into a sweat.

“I don’t really care,” you utter.

“Please, tell me what you like.”

“And I’m telling you I don’t care,” you insist. “Just don’t stop–”

At the sound of your words, your eyes immediately dart up to Yoongi, who was now sporting the cockiest smirk. Flustered, you end up muttering, “Ugh, just keep going, okay?”

“As you wish,” he says with a chuckle. Lowering his face, he catches your mouth gently as he continues the measured, delicate rock of his hips, making sure his drives are slow and exact, his tongue following suit. He releases your hands, allowing you to feel him.

He lets you control your kiss again, only breaking away from time to time when you lazily throw your head around on the pillow, sighing, moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head from arousal.

You’re caught in the moment and floating in mid-air. He keeps his rhythm steady, ensuring that you’re kept in a consistent state of pleasure. He’s amazed by how responsive you were to him, finding himself enthralled at the sight of you losing yourself.

He peels away from your chest as he lifts and balances his weight on his forearms. Your eyes follow his, your hands reaching for his face, holding him. Your hips are in perfect sync, his rolling down, and you undulate upward to meet his, each plunge taking your breath away.

In one swift move, he rolls you both over until you were on top. He gives you a look, reminding you that you were in control. With a gentle nudge from him, you sit up, shifting your legs on either side of him for leverage.

You ease into your movements. He closes his eyes and flexes his hips to meet yours, filling you to the brim as he exhales. You lift off slightly, feeling his length slide out. His mouth falls open with a sigh when you sink your hips to take him in again.

You were feeling drunk with the power you currently had–watching Yoongi coming apart beneath you. You place your hands on his shoulders for support until your ass rests atop his thighs.

You sway your hips and he matches your rhythm, maintaining that perfect synchronicity. You increase the speed and it didn't take long before you were fully captivated in pleasure again.

He slowly lifts himself off the mattress and sits up, his face right in front of yours. His hands move from your hips to your arms, maintaining a firm grip to hold you still. He then withdraws slightly before thrusting sharply into you, causing you to cry out.

Your head lolls sideways and back, as he fucks in and out of you. You open your eyes, stare down at him, your breathing ragged, and he’s staring back at you, eyes blazing.

“Fuck…don’t…stop,” you mewl pathetically as he pounds into you.

He groans loudly, closing his eyes again, tipping his head and leaning it against your forehead.

He feels you inching closer to another orgasm. He reaches between you to massage your clit, circling it in the most optimal rhythm, applying the perfect amount of pressure, enough to send you over the edge.

You both calmly roll through your own waves of pleasure, a stark contrast to the frantic hammering in your chests.

“Are you okay?” He asks against your misted neck, still catching his breath.

You giggle softly, rolling your forehead against his forehead. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

His lips curve into a smile before he gently places soft, leisurely kisses on your lips. At the same time, his fingers caress your cheek and neck. He didn’t need to do all that, but it felt good.

You pull away and regard him intently. “That was nice.”

“Aftercare is important.” He plants another soft kiss on your lips before he gingerly lifts you off him.

He asks for permission to use your shower, and you direct him to the linen closet where he can find some towels for himself.

“Yoongi?” You call out to him. He turns around and hums his prompt for you to go on.

“You know, if I could afford you, I’d pay twice whatever you’re charging.”

He grins at the compliment, nodding before turning back towards the door. “I can give you access to the app if you’re serious about it,” he says over his shoulder in jest.

His laughter sends gentle currents coursing through your body. The thought amuses you, as you sink back into your sheets while the sound of your shower tap turning on echoes through the room.

******

For somebody whose work revolved around sex–it sure didn’t feel like it from your perspective, nor his.

Everything felt natural and organic. Every touch, every kiss felt real. Every movement you made was in response to his–an even exchange, never missing a beat. The whole act itself flowed like a great conversation, one that you didn’t want to end.

It wasn’t that he had magical skills in bed. There were no special rituals or elaborate positions. His strength was in genuinely understanding that sex went beyond the physical aspect. He knew how to build anticipation and actually deliver.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had spent the entire night setting the mood for the moment and the result was extremely satisfying. He made you feel so comfortable and relaxed that it made the sex that much better.

And it was mind-blowing! Even then, that adjective felt inadequate in describing the experience.

As he was getting ready to leave that morning, you let him know that you didn’t feel the need to call him again even after he offered to meet up off the clock.

“Look, I’m flattered, but you don’t need to do me any favors. Besides, I wouldn’t want to take any business away from you,” you say to him.

“Don’t think of it that way,” he shook his head. “It’s just that I really enjoyed our time and I thought–”

“Then let’s leave it at that,” you interrupt him calmly. “I had a really great time, too.”

He sighs in defeat but asks again for good measure. “Are you sure?”

You nodded in response.

He took a step closer. You chuckle softly, butterflies tickling as he snakes his arm around your waist. “If you ever feel lonely, call me. I’ll be here for you. As a friend.” He gave you a smile that had the slightest hint of mischief in it.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please do,” he says emphatically–almost begging. “And you know where to find me.”

You laughed.

“We can grab a drink, or something.” His eyebrows twitch and his teeth catch his lower lip while he stares at you.

You looked at him wryly, but deep down, you had to admit that his insatiable desire for you stokes your ego. “You know, you’re making this really hard–”

“Good. Glad I’m not the only one finding this…hard,” he rasps.

You slap of his chest playfully, eliciting a laugh from him. You roll your eyes but are unable to stop yourself from smiling. “Oh my god! You’re a menace!”

He throws his head back, laughing some more, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’m teasing, of course. But I’m serious, though. If you ever want to talk, I’m a phone call away.”

You offer a small smile of appreciation in return. “Thank you.”

“Would it be alright if I kissed you goodbye?”

You shook your head softly. “That’ll be nice.”

He dips his head and pauses for a fraction of a second to brush the tip of his nose against yours, before fully capturing your mouth in a lush, deep kiss.

And it was nice, just as you thought it would be. It was also nice to feel wanted and desired–even for one night.

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