#the would you die question is a bit ??? lol anyway

[suddencolds]

.~

[astermath]

title taken ✧*

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan makes an offhand comment about potentially “dying a virgin”. you ask him if he’d like you to help with that. and how could he possibly refuse?

word count: 3.8K

notes: first time fully writing smut on this blog! I hope I did okay lol I probs got a bit carried away,, I remember hearing his comment in the movie and being like I VOLUNTEER I CAN HELP lmao, anyways,,, comments / reblogs are highly appreciated, and requests are open! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!

warnings: cursing, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), ethan realizing how much he loves going down on you lol, MINORS DNI!!!! normal sized font below!

notes: guys hot take but I think ethan is a boobs guy, but what do you think? sound off in the comments ethan nation

P.S.: this is a REPOST with some slight edits, sorry for the inconvenience!!

You distinctly remember the moment when Ethan made that comment.

You were all sitting outside, discussing your theories as to who the Ghostface killer could be and who you guys should be watching out for. When Ethan realized he was part of the core friend group, and as a result, also a target, he looked panicked.

“Am I gonna die a virgin?”

It was an offhand comment that no one paid much attention to, it seemed like everyone pretty much expected that from him. But you didn’t. Sure, he was a total dork, and really bad at talking to girls, but he was a pretty boy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered hooking up with him before, but… That comment truly solidified the thought for you.

The two of you were sat on the couch of Chad and Ethan’s shared dorm. Despite Mindy telling you she didn’t trust him and that you shouldn’t be hanging out alone with him, you did very much need his tutoring. You’d rather get killed by Ghostface than have to retake econ.

But you couldn’t focus on the material. Not when Ethan’s virgin comment was making all kinds of images appear in your mind. You weren’t even listening to what he was saying, your brain having a field day with the thought of you taking that title away from him.

“Hey, Ethan.” You finally spoke up, looking away from your notes.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the end of his pen held to his lips. He always had a habit of biting his pen when he got distracted.

“Are you really a virgin?”

The bluntness of your out of the blue question completely took him out of it. His eyes widened and he just sort of froze up, like his brain short circuited. You could tell he started blushing, and god did it look adorable.

“U-Uhm…” He put down his pen and tried to look anywhere but where your eyes were. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it. He’d never even had a girlfriend, let alone have sex before, and as much as Chad tried to get him involved with girls he always struggled with it. Not just because of how awkward he generally was.

But because he had a crush on you already.

No one knew, not even his roommate, but lately he’d been struggling with keeping it to himself, especially as the two of you had been hanging out more on your own. There were so many moments where he just wanted to be closer to you, move all these papers aside and just kiss you right then and there.

His eyes were fixated on his laptop as he swallowed hard, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal. “Uhm… Yeah. I am…” He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands busy so his nerves wouldn’t show as much. “Just… Never got around to it.” He chuckled nervously.

You closed your laptop, realizing you’d made the poor boy uncomfortable with your sudden interest in his sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be ashamed about, there’s no, like, expiration date on when you have to fuck someone…” You tried to make him feel a bit better.

Ethan nodded awkwardly, genuinely wishing this couch would just swallow him whole so he could disappear. The girl he liked knew he was a virgin loser with no game, there was no way you were ever going to want him now.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Ethan wondering if it was too late to jump out a window and forget this ever happened. You, however, had a different turn of events in mind.

“Do you want me to help with that?”

Those words made Ethan look up from his laptop and his eyes widen. If your previous question was a pitch, this one was a home run. He wasn’t even completely sure if you actually asked that or if he imagined it, until he met your gaze. But he wanted to be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “W-What?”

You shuffled a little closer, legs touching his, putting a hand on his thigh and leaning in slightly. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Ethan can feel blood rush to his cock from the question alone, his gaze darting from your lips back up to your eyes. If this was a dream, it was definitely the best one he’s had so far.

“Yes.”

Your lips meet his only a second after his reply, the book on his lap falling to the floor as you both lean in at the same time. You could tell he was nervous, but that didn’t stop him from trying. You tilted your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue across his bottom lip, an action that elicited a slight whimper from him.

His arms snaked around your waist and you raised yourself up onto his lap. A hand soon found its place in his curls, tugging gently to tilt his head back as your lips traveled down to his jaw, then to his neck, peppering gentle kisses and love bites on the way.

“S-Shit…” He spoke between hot breaths, one of his hands now resting on the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing slightly whenever your teeth would bite down on his sensitive skin.

You giggle softly at how sensitive he was, lips sucking a darker mark on the spot below his ear. His hips were shifting beneath you, and even through multiple layers of clothing, you could tell he was getting harder by the second. You pulled back, hands coming up to cup his pretty face. He was already panting a bit, cheeks tinged pink from all this newfound excitement. “You look so pretty...” You press another soft kiss to his lips. “This okay?”

Ethan looks up at you with an almost desperate look in those doe eyes of his, nodding at your question. As much as you wanted to fuck him right then and there, Ethan deserved to be taken care of a little, especially since this was his first time experiencing most of this.

“Good, good...” Your thumb rubs gently across the soft skin of his cheek. “Wanna... Take this to the bedroom?”

“Please.” He breathes out against your lips.

The walk, or almost run to his bedroom, was a blur in your mind. You wasted no time, quickly getting inside and locking the door behind you both. Ethan was eager now that this was finally feeling real, hands swiftly finding your hips again and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“Hmm... Someone’s excited...” You mumbled in between kisses, stumbling backwards onto the bed until your back hit the mattress. Ethan held himself above you, brown curls perfectly framing his face as he admired how beautiful you looked on his bed.

He kissed you again, tongues playing with one another as his confidence was spurred on by his pure exhilaration. “Been... Wanting to do this forever...” He spoke against your lips as your hands searched for the hem of his shirt. “With you...” He pulled his shirt off in a hurry, diving back to meet your neck, pressing feverish kisses to your skin.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip, hand coming up to further push him into the crook where your shoulder and neck met. You let out a soft mewl when he bit down, wondering if he’d imagined this before. One of your hands moved over his chest, nails raking over the skin and undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake. They travelled over his abs, down to his crotch, palming slightly, which earned a delicious groan from him.

You tilt your head to kiss the side of his head and get his attention to meet your gaze. His eyes find yours, half lidded, pupils blown out like he was high off the moment. “Me too.” You say, and you could swear it activated something in him when you did.

His hands start roaming under your shirt, and you take that as your cue to take yours off too. He stops for a moment, purely to admire the newly exposed parts of your body. Sure, he’d snuck glances at your chest when you wore tighter shirts, or when the collar would dip down just enough to give him a peek. But he only imagined touching your tits, how soft they were, how well you’d react to his hands.

His hand reached out and he gently cupped your breast, still a little careful. “So soft...” He mumbled to himself, his thumb slowly rolling over your nipple, almost teasingly so. You whined softly, arching your back a little into his touch. His other hand joined in and he squeezed them a bit, seemingly entranced by just how soft and pleasant they felt. Like they were made to be held by him.

He leaned down to your chest and looked up at you with puppy eyes. He could ask you to rob a bank with those eyes, and you’d do it. You just hoped he didn’t realize how you weak you were to that look.

“Can I?” He licked his lips.

“Y-Yeah, Ethan, anything...” You rubbed your thighs together. You knew he was just taking things slow, for both of your sakes, but god it felt like he was teasing you so badly.

He licked your nipple, a little hesitant, but he took the hand in his hair as a sign that he could continue. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled softly, closing his eyes as his fingers played around with your other nipple. You swore he was getting off on just sucking and touching your tits, noticing slight movements of his hips grinding into the bed.

He let go with an audible ‘pop’, earning a delicious whimper from you.

“E-Ethan...” You whined, catching your bottom lip under your teeth.

“Yeah...?” He hoped he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Touch me...” You spread your thighs a little more. “Please?”

“O-Oh, right... Sorry, I just... Got a little caught up in the moment.” He chuckled nervously and you did the same. You were glad there was still an air of lightness surrounding the whole ordeal. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel judged or uncomfortable.

He moved back a little between your thighs, hands exploring the soft skin of your legs with a pleased hum. He’d dreamt about moments like these so many times, ever since you became part of the friend group, he just couldn’t stop imagining what it was like. What you’d feel like, what you’d sound like... He was still processing a little that it was all actually happening.

His hand hesitatingly moved over your inner thigh, bringing a finger to gently trace over the fabric of your panties. His eyes widened a little at what he felt; you were soaked. He felt a little more confident in knowing he did that to you, but also a little shocked. “You’re... So wet...”

You brought up your hands to cover your face. You were, yes, but the way he was saying it made you all the more conscious about the effects he was having on your body. “Ethan... That’s-- You can’t...”

He grinned slightly at your reaction. He never knew you could get shy like this, you were usually such an open person. “Alright, let me just...” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. He bit his lip when he discovered the hot wetness there, gently running over your slicked folds. “Is this okay?” he looked up at you.

“Mhm...” You nodded, your thighs twitching slightly when his finger grazed over your clit. “F-Fuck, yes... There, keep... Keep doing that.” You felt a little guilty for a second, remembering this was supposed to be about him. But you were doing him a favor, really, he was bound to have to find out how to touch a girl sooner or later.

His middle finger ran gentle and slow circles over your clit as his other hand kept busy running up and down your thigh. He stopped for a moment, hooking his finger around the elastic of your panties, looking at you for approval to take them off. You said something along the lines of “go ahead” between your whimpers, so he gently removed them from your body.

Again, he was taken aback by how beautiful you were, pussy glistening with juices. “God...” His thumb ran over your clit and you shivered slightly, having missed his touch, even if it was just for a few moments.

An idea sprung alive in his head, something he’d thought about many times before. “Hey, uhm... Can I...” He seemed nervous about proposing it.

“Hm? What is it Ethan?” You propped yourself up slightly onto your elbows, looking at him.

“Can I go down on you?” He paused for a moment, swallowing. “I, uh... I’ve always wanted to try that.”

You smiled at his request. Usually, the first thing guys would want is for a girl to go down on them, but you supposed Ethan wanted to explore all the options a little first. And maybe he wanted this to last longer than he would with your mouth on him. “Y-Yeah, sure...”

He smiled back, arms now on both sides of your thighs as he leaned his head down closer to your aching core. His hot breath hit your pussy, and you resisted the urge to just pull him closer. Instead, you ran your fingers over his scalp with an encouraging nudge. He stuck out his tongue, running it flat over the entirety of your wetness, humming at the taste.

You squirmed when he reached your clit, and his hands came up to settle on your thighs. He flicked his tongue and you moaned, almost obscenely, at the action. “F-Fuck!” He did it again, and your thighs started clamping down on him. “Jesus, Ethan...” He brought his lips down onto the needy bundle of nerves and suckled gently. Your head threw back as his tongue sent waves of warm tingles through your entire body.

“A-Are you sure this is your first time?” You spoke breathily through your moans and it only spurred him on further. He looked up at you with those all too familiar puppy eyes, tongue eagerly lapping at your juices. He moaned into your cunt, rutting into the bed slightly, fuck it felt good to please you.

You felt a familiar knot start to form in your stomach, hips moving against Ethan’s face as you mumbled his name over your whimpers. He sucked down on your clit again and that sent you over the edge, hand gripping his curls as you became undone beneath him. You rode it out on his face a bit before you relaxed back onto the mattress, thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Holy shit... Ethan...”

He slowly got up, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I hope I did alright.” He smiled, gently stroking your leg.

“Are you kidding me?” you spoke up after finally catching your breath. “You did so well baby.” You propped yourself up and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. Your hands went to his pants in the meantime, working on undoing his belt. “If you’d just… Help me out with those…” You smiled against his lips. “I could return the favor.”

He wasted no time in taking off his pants, kicking them off the bed until he was left in just his boxers. He kneeled on the mattress, his hard-on straining against the fabric of his underwear. You leaned forward onto your elbows, and he swore just the sight of you like that would have finished him off.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his bulge through the fabric, and you noticed a twitch from his cock in return. “Been wanting to know what you taste like for months…” You mumbled, hooking your fingers over the waistband of his underwear to free his throbbing cock. The tip was already dripping with pre-cum, proof of just how worked up he got from eating you out earlier.

“Just relax, ‘kay?” You looked up at him and offered a sultry smile, to which he nodded. You reached out and with a gentle grip, pumped his length a few times. He bit his lip, suppressing a groan. God your hand felt so much better than his…

You leaned in and licked across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum on your tongue and savoring it. “Such a pretty cock too…” You licked up the length of him and he hissed through his teeth, hand landing gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, not pulling, just wanting to touch you.

He whined out your name when you suckled on the tip, looking down at you with desperate and needy eyes. “Fuck… T-That feels… So fucking good oh my god…” His hand moves over to your jaw, so you’re looking up at him now, and the eye contact doesn’t break, not even once.

His breathing picks up when you start to bob your head, but he stops you before you go deeper, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit, sorry, was that too far?” You look at him with a worried expression.

“No, no, not at all, it’s just… I wanna last longer.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and you felt a sense of pride of almost making him cum just from giving him head for a bit.

“That’s okay,” You got up to your knees and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m starting to get impatient anyways,” His breath hitched when you traced your fingers over his length again. “Need you inside me…”

You gave him a slight push so he sat down on the bed as you leaned over to grab a condom from the pocket of your discarded shorts. You rolled it over his cock, a snug fit, as expected, and your eyes went back to his face. He watched your pussy hover over his length, mentally preparing himself. If you going down on him felt that incredible, then this was about to be an out of body experience.

You put one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, and reached one hand under to run his tip between your folds, lubing him up with your juices. “You ready?”

He nodded, hands coming up to gently rest on your hips. With that, you sank down onto his cock, slowly but steadily taking him inch by inch. Both of you moaned in unison at the joining of your bodies, neither of you imagining it would feel quite like this. You, surprised by the stretch he gave your cunt, him, surprised by your warmth and tightness.

“Fuck…” You sighed out, before you fully took his length, skin meeting skin with an audible clap. “So... Deep...” You put both of your hands on his chest, leaning forward a little. “Feels good, huh? You fit inside me so perfectly...”

“Shit...” He squeezes your hips harder, not enough to bruise, at least not yet. “So tight...” Ethan moves his hips up a little and you moan at the movement, the head of his cock grazing a very special spot inside you.

“F-Fuck, Ethan, hold on... J-Just...” You raised your hips, almost pulling him out completely.

“Let me...” You lowered again, ass meeting his hips. “Take care of you...” You started to establish a steady rhythm, Ethan watching your body move in complete fascination. You were gorgeous, tits bouncing, making the prettiest noises. Any guy would kill to have you on him like that, and he was no exception.

Your thighs started burning a little after a while, and he could tell as your movements got less intense. But you felt so good, every single change in motion sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his cock twitching whenever you would moan out his name.

He decided to keep chasing this high and take the reigns, putting a hand on your lower back and getting up, laying you down on the mattress as he pulled out.

“E-Ethan! What are you-- o-oh my god--” Your sentence got cut off by him sliding back inside you, his arms resting besides your body. You didn’t expect this more... Initiative-taking side of him, but it was welcome either way. You hooked your legs around his hips to pull him in closer, arms resting over his shoulders.

He quickly began thrusting, hips snapping forward, the room filled with the almost pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. He looked at you, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth slightly agape. You pulled him in by his shoulders to capture his lips, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace.

“Fuck... ‘M close... So close...” He spoke through heavy pants, head now buried into your neck.

“Me too baby, me too, holy shit don’t stop... D-Don’t stop!” You felt the hot coil in your stomach get to a breaking point, the bed rocking slightly with Ethan’s movements as you started repeating his name between your moans.

Ethan’s hips pushed into you one last time, cock twitching as he came, filling the condom nearly to its brim. He groaned your name into your neck, breath hot against your love bite covered skin.

You followed right after, legs clamping down on him, your pussy clenching onto his cock and milking every last drop out of him. Your thighs trembled as you panted, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm with a few last sloppy thrusts.

His body collapsed on top of you, the weight almost comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head. He moved his head to kiss you lazily, and you chuckled at how adorable he was being. He pressed a few kisses to your lips, eyes fluttering open soon after.

“Thank you...” He smiled sleepily, still coming down from the amazing high he’d experienced just then. “That was... Amazing...”

“Could say the same to you...” You smiled back, basking in the sweet after sex euphoria while you could. You whined slightly when he finally pulled out, suddenly feeling a bit empty.

Ethan disposed of the condom while you went to his bathroom to pee really quick. He sat back down on the bed and looked at his phone, seeing multiple messages from his roommate.

[chadmeister]: jesus christ

[chadmeister]: are u guys almost done

[chadmeister]: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes now you know

[chadmeister]: pretty sure the entire floor heard u two

[chadmeister]: at least u def won’t die a virgin now MY MANNN

tag list <3

@kometqh 

[hanyjar]

do stars return?

itoshi sae x reader

summary: your childhood friend leaves, and you question if he’ll ever come back.

notes: [1.2k words.] i like to think this man has super angst potential but that won’t be unearthed today LOL no beta we die like men <3

disclaimers: childhood friends trope, angst (if u squint) to fluff, making out for a lil bit, poetic dialogue, forgiveness theme.

masterlist.

Itoshi Sae shines.

It's a truth you've come to realise at the budding age of seven. He, with his tepid stature and equally cold attitude, is destined for greatness.

A star, you whisper, once upon a time. A time where he lived without a million eyes watching his every move. You will become a star, I just know it. 

And back in the day, it wasn't just you who believed it. Everyone did. From his teachers to his classmates, to his parents and his brother. It was an indisputable fact that the boy who dedicated himself wholly to soccer, a prodigy who made the sport look like an art form, had his future set out for stardom.

So it is no surprise to anyone when your naive declaration comes into fruition.

His face is plastered on every billboard - as far as the eye can see. Japan's pride, he is known as. The Ice Prince; he who dominates the field; a force to be reckoned with.

Itoshi Sae: the star.

You are proud. No doubt. Though, it’s false to say that you aren’t envious. Sae is a trailblazer: one that surpasses all of his enemies with a nonchalant stare, and transcends into the sky with the other geniuses. He is a part of the lucky few who are destined to be gazed upon with awe. Everything and anything you have achieved pales in comparison.

(You’d surely hear reprimands if you voice those thoughts out loud, though. In your time, you have made a name for yourself. An expert in your passion at the mere age of seventeen; a trailblazer in your own right.

…It’ll just never compare to the name Sae built for himself, you think with finality.)

But above the awe and envy you feel whenever Sae’s name comes up, is love.

Love: a trap that is inevitable for a childhood friend of his. A pitfall that you have fell into. Your love for him is a bittersweet fact, one which tugs at your heartstrings whenever his face shows up on your phone. Sweet, because childhood love is a beautiful, rare thing - you’re glad that it has happened, in all honesty - though bitter all the same, because he is a star.

And stars shoot past. They never go back.

(He, will never go back.)

So for the years that Sae is gone, you float by on that knowledge. Merely acknowledging him as the one who crashed into your life, and left as turbulently as he came. You work diligently to mute the love that festered in your heart, knowing it will never be. 

You wholeheartedly believe that your life will continue in this fashion.

Then, the impossible happens.

The star returns, seven years later. On your doorstep, nonetheless.

"Itoshi?" 

Somehow, even in the ungodly hour of 12:56AM, Sae manages to look as beautiful as the day he left. It's unfair. Unfair for him to show up at your doorstep unannounced; unfair for him to have grown into his boyish looks as gracefully as he did.

It’s unfair for him to still make your heart race, even after all this time.

"Who else would it be?" He scoffs, the bite of his words not quite reaching his eyes. "And, Itoshi, seriously?"

His voice makes your heart leap. It's like you are ten again. "Well… You haven't been Sae for a while now," you say. "Not since you ghosted me, anyways."

Sae's eyes flicker with an emotion you thought he is incapable of feeling. "I didn't mean to." Regret. The Ice Prince is feeling regret, all for you. And if you were ten again, maybe that alone would shake you. But you aren't. You are several years wiser. You know better.

"It's fine if you want to be the best in the world. I don't blame you for that - not at all. But you can be number one and not neglect the ones that love you, y'know?" You slowly retreat back into the comfort of your apartment, hand creeping onto the back of the door. "Goodnight, Itoshi. You should go home; it's late."

You push the door, preparing to end the conversation then and there.

It’s not supposed to be like this, you realise. He, your first love, is supposed to stay in the past. Itoshi Sae should not be at your doorstep past midnight, suitcase in tow, as if he came straight from the airport to your house. The feelings you hold for him should be locked up within the depths of your heart - not surging in full force from just the sight of him.

But alas, fate plays its mischievous tricks once again. And Sae is not the type of person who lets blunders get away scot-free.

"…You love me?” He says, barely above a whisper, foot wedged between the door and the entrance. An impenetrable silence follows from your end. 

Seven years older, but still a fool in the face of love, it seems.

“I did,” I still do, your mind yells. “But you’re a star now, Sae. Just like I said you would be.” Your breath hitches, nails forming crescent-shaped indents within your palm. “…And stars don’t fall in love with the big, black sea of nothingness, do they?”

A beat of silence ensues from his end. You cringe at your own word choice. Maybe he left, you think. Great. Itoshi Sae was at your door, and you scared him away with your stupid love and even stupider confession. How stupid can you even get—

The door hinge creaks as you topple over, shattering your inner turmoil. Sae announces his intrusion with a loud sigh.

“Hey! What are you?— This is considered trespassing—“ You begin. Sae shuts you up with a forceful kiss, pinning you against the door that you were hiding behind minutes before. It’s messy, tantalising, addicting. The smell of his aquatic cologne fills your senses, and he cups your face in between his hands. He feels so warm. He feels like home.

Sae’s whole body screams of need. The need for you; the need to make up for the lost time. 

You hate how you are so weak for him. 

“Idiot.” He deadpans as the two of you part. “If you’re going to get all poetic on me, fine. Stars don’t fall in love with the galaxy.” 

You remove yourself from his arms, eyes scrunching in offence. Bold thing for him to say, especially after he just kissed your lips raw. “So… You’re not in love with me?”

“Let me finish.” Sae is quick to pull you back into his embrace, voice impossibly soft for the otherwise stone-faced boy. “Stars don’t fall in love with the sky. They live in it; I live with you.”

Sae hopes that the implication is clear.

You, alone, are his hope; you are the reason he sparkles as much as he does. Even while you were miles apart, his childhood friend was the sole thing on his mind. A star cannot shine without its galaxy, after all.

“You’re not off the hook, by the way.” You breathe lightly, laying your head against his chest. “Seven years is still a long time. I don’t think you can cuddle your way out of this one, Itoshi.”

A small smile elicits from his face, “I can try, can’t I?”

…And this star is willing to wait for his galaxy to forgive him, no matter how long it takes.

[cassayeee]

IN THE FALLING SNOW (CORIOLANUS SNOW X FEM!READER)

warnings: this contains spoilers for The Ballads of Songbirds and Snakes, so read at your own risk. furthermore, this is smut - coriolanus snow smut. expect porn with a bit of plot, degradation, spitting, throat fucking, p in v, virginity taking, oral (m and f receiving), marking, idk just all of that good stuff. point is: mdni.

notes: this is like, really quickly proofread (and almost 8k words lol oops) , so apologies for any grammatical mistakes that pop up. also, this is the first time I've ever actually written smut so bear with me here. anyway, enjoy!

You were probably one of the only souls in Panem that knew the truth about the Snows. Shrouded in deceit of their true wealth status and fear of the truth being sung across the Capitol, you held onto their secret more closely to your chest than any of your own.

Having grown up on the Corso, practically next-door neighbors to the Snows in a penthouse befitting your own status, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be caught spending time between yours and the cousins almost every day. So much time, that the high society of the Capitol could almost always count on the L/N’s and Snow’s appearing at any event with the other in tow.

That was, of course, until the rebellion. While your parents had decided on siding alongside the president, the Snow’s had decided on another course, driving a wedge right through the once unbreakable bond between the two. And once the bombings had come and gone, you still had all your affluence and one less mother, but the Snow’s had found themselves even worse off.

However, you and Coriolanus Snow didn’t let any of that deter your own relationship.

---

“Coryo! Come on! Punctuality is a dish best not served cold.” You jeered over to your friend who had just exited his front door onto the wide and ever-expanding avenue.

His blue eyes locked onto your own as he made his way over to your car, the Avoxes in the front seat doing nothing more than staring straight ahead, ready to make the trip over to the Academy. As he entered, you made note of his blouse that could only have been touched by Tigris’ clever hand.

“Wow. Did Tigris do this for you? It’s beautiful.” Snow watched you dote on his reaping attire as he nodded ‘yes’ to your question.

“It was one of my father’s.” he finally replied as you contently sat back further into your family car’s seat.

“So,” you started. “How are you feeling about your mentorship for the Games this year?”

He raised a brow at you as he pondered your question. “In all honesty, I’m just hoping for a good tribute selection. 1 or 2 would be preferable, but even 4 or 11 would suffice. Someone with a chance of succeeding, I suppose.”

You inclined your head through his reasoning. It made sense, you had always known Coryo to be a competitive man – wanting nothing more than the control to make things go as he pleased.

“Well, with your charm and wits, I’m sure you could make any contender into a victor.”

---

And, oh, how right you were. Watching your Coryo more than triumph over his mentorship and even getting his tribute to win the Hunger Games had your own pride swelling in turn. This was all he ever wanted. To have his reputation goldened and his University spot secured, you couldn’t wait to see how he would blossom in the coming years.

What you were less than happy about, however, was how closely he and that District 12 girl had become. Sharing a picnic in that rat-infested zoo? Going to her for problems that he used to come to you about? Oh, your ego took a bruising after that.

Was she there for him after he lost his parents? No.

Was she there for him as his fortune declined? No.

Was she there to sneak food over to him to make sure the family didn’t die from starvation? No.

Was she there to hold him at night when he couldn’t sleep even after attempting to find solace in his mother’s compact? No.

What did she do? Sing a little song and twirl in her rainbow dress? Oh, please. You knew a flirt when you saw one, and did she ever fit the bill.

A part of you had even hoped that she died in the Games. Easy. Out of their lives forever and what was the biggest problem after that? Getting Coryo to University? With a little convincing you were sure you could’ve gotten your own father to sponsor him. Really, he needed to get over his little conviction with the Snow’s. It’s not like he didn’t owe Crassus more than that.

But besides that, you felt like you were losing your best friend. Had you been in love with him for years hoping he’d return your affections? Of course. Were you perfectly comfortable staying his friend and supporting him even so? I mean, not really, but sooner or later he would have realized that you were all he’d ever need.

If only that stupid little songbird would just fly away.

---

Arriving home from the Academy after the end of the Games, your feelings were twisted in a knot. More than anything you just wanted to climb into your room and sulk or find a way to get your father to cause an “accident” for that Lucy Gray Baird on her way back to 12, whatever would be more appealing at the time.

But, you knew you had to get over to the Snow’s to congratulate Coryo. Jealousy aside, you were still so proud of all he’d done and wanted to make sure he knew that.

Once you entered the penthouse, Tigris greeted you with a big smile and an even bigger hug.

“Oh, Y/N,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe he actually did it!”

You couldn’t help but fall further into her hug, genuinely happy in her arms. She was right. You were being selfish thinking about him and the girl at a time like this. Tomorrow you could be bitter all you want, but tonight, tonight was about Coriolanus Snow.

Helping her and the Grandma’am set up their old party favors and arranging the cake you brought over for him, you couldn’t help but wait for his arrival. Not being part of the mentorship, you had left as soon as the Games concluded allowing for Coryo to debrief with his fellow members and any newscasters looking for an interview.

Hearing the door turn, you all jumped up in celebration as you saw him enter. Noticing immediately that something was wrong with him, you dropped your arms as he burst into tears. Shocked, you started to make your way over to him as he ran into your arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he began to tell you about Highbottom and the Games.

And that’s when your world came crashing down around you.

---

You found yourself in Coryo’s room as he had his head placed in your lap, arms wrapped tight around your legs as you ran your hands through his hair. A position the two of you hadn’t found yourselves in for quite some time, but one that you both found nothing but comfort in.

“Maybe they’ll change their minds. Realize that losing you as a Capitol citizen is more a punishment onto themselves than for you.” You attempted to reason with him. To give him any sort of hope.

He only turned his head in your lap to face you. “Maybe if Highbottom didn’t hate me, but this feels more personal than even just being caught for cheating.”

“What about Gaul?” you tried, combing through his curly locks. “She seemed to have really taken a liking to you with all that extra essay work and singling you out whenever she could.”

“Gaul is certifiably insane and even more like her mutations than you’d realize.” He rebuked. “No, she wouldn’t even let me into the Citadel to try and reason with her. This is my only option.”

You both were silent for a stretch until you broke the silence with a hiccup. Feeling your body start to shake, Coryo rose from your lap to see you silently crying into your free hand. He reached for your head to bring into his chest, allowing you to release your emotions onto him.

“Oh, my Y/N.” The way he softly cooed your name made you latch your arms around him and cry even harder.

With a break in your hysterical state, you retreated your head away from his now tear-stained shirt and looked up at him.

“I don’t want you to go.” You confessed. “I want you to stay here. With Tigris. With the Grandma’am. With me. Please.”

His gaze softened while studying your features. He brushed back your slightly sweaty hair from your forehead as he placed a loving kiss upon it. You closed your eyes in the tender moment, never wanting it to end.

“I’ll always come back to you.” He asserted. “I promise.”

Trying your best not to lose your composure again, you buried yourself back into him, hiding your face from view. Tangling yourselves together, you attempted to find a semblance of sleep in his embrace, knowing that this may be the last intimate moment you get with him in years.

Eyes falling shut and breathing becoming labored, Coryo watched as you drifted asleep in his arms. His Y/N. His beautiful, intelligent, loyal Y/N. He knew he should have kissed you before. Told you that he’d only ever want to fall asleep in your arms, no matter what the news made of his and Lucy Gray’s relationship. But the good man in him knew that would have just made things worse for you, after he left, and he needed you to stay strong and become the powerful woman you were born to be.

And the not-so-good man in him reveled at the fact that you would always ache for more from him. Waiting until he returned. Loyal until the end. And if he returned to see you with someone else? Well, that would be sure to be remedied quickly. Because, as you were both severely aware, Snow lands on top.  

---

It had been months since you’d last seen him. And every day still hurt as much as the last. While you did receive letters from him, it was never the same as having him here. In person. Across the avenue and readily available at your beck and call.

With the worsening state of the Grandma’am and Tigris’ situation, you tried to help as much as you could, but your father strictly forbade anymore spending on the two after Coryo’s departure. He even threatened to send you to the Citadel for a “long-term internship” if only to keep you away. So, all you could do was watch the further deterioration of your family.

On a late day in September, you and your father were preparing to leave for the University for a pre-semester gala, attended by those in current attendance, and new studies joining in just a few days.

You smoothed down your blood-red, pin-straight formal gown, backless with a slit rising just up to your upper thigh, viewing yourself in your large vanity mirror white fixing your satin gloves. A tulle train adorned the back of your gown, wrapping around your waist and sparkling slightly with the gems attacked throughout it. Not as eccentric as some of the other Capitol citizens, you kept a rather minimalistic style, but you looked good, like, really fucking good. Hair styled in an intricate updo and makeup accentuating your features, you couldn’t help but enjoy your reflection. What was wrong with a bit of self-indulgence?

It’s not that you would describe yourself as vain or vapid, but rather know the worth in your own beauty. If you were to be a woman in a wolf-den of men, playing to your strengths and charms would be the only way to get anywhere, besides your self-assured intelligence, of course.

Breaking you out of your trance, you heard your father call from the foyer that the car had made itself around and was ready to depart. Taking a deep breath and checking your appearance once more, you began your trek into the snake pit.

---

Just as you had suspected, the hall was full of high-class society goers, along with many of the staff and faculty of the University. This was your time to solidify past Academy connections as well as create new ones as the environment called for. Knowing people was everything. And knowing people liked you was even better.

Making your rounds with your father, you stopped to chat with some of his associates and peers to begin your night. Already growing bored with the conversation, you stopped a passing Avoxes to grab a glass of posca to solicit a light buzz, making the night infinitely better.

Excusing yourself from the group to take a breather of business talk, you began to make your own way around to speak to some of your fellow Academy graduates among some influential figures in the University.

Currently speaking to Hilarius Heavensbee, the two of you were catching up on what you had both done after graduation, among small talk of the hushed Hunger Games.

“No, my parents were still pissed that my tribute only made it to 8th place, but how was that my fault?” he exclaimed. “The girl was already on her deathbed by the time she made it into the arena, and I couldn’t send her a miracle on a drone.”

You giggled at his exasperated state, slightly because of the posca you still sipped on.

“At least you got to mentor,” you bemused. “Fucking Persephone Price beat me out for a spot, so all I had was a good seat and an ability to bet.”

“Oh?” he said in a teasing lilt. “And did you place any bets my way, Y/N?”

You caught his eyes looking you up and down in a lustful gaze. You were always friendly with Hilarius back in the Academy, but never entertained much more than that, since your heart had always belonged to him.

But, as your body grew warm with the posca and need to feel wanted, you couldn’t help yourself from taking a small step closer to Hilarius, though still a respectable distance given the circumstances, while you dedicated a small giggle to him.

“Now, Hilarius,” you remarked. “If you wanted me to place my bets on you, you should have given me a little bit more to work with.”

He rolled his eyes at your slight jab, even knowing you were only teasing.

“Just because my tribute didn’t know how to please a crowd, doesn’t mean I don’t.”

The slight innuendo didn’t slip past you even in your hazy state. If anything, it only caused you to peer at him through your long lashes, blinking slowly as you licked your bottom lip. Before either of you could speak again, a murmur rushed through the crowd as you noticed people staring toward the entrance of the room. Turning to see what the commotion was about, you almost let the glass slip through your hands as you saw him staring right at you.

Standing shocked and immovable, all you could see was him, completely forgetting about Hilarius and your prior engagement. It was as if the commune around you was nothing more than a backdrop to your reunion. You watched as he greeted faculty and society members alike, never moving from your spot as he continuously flicked his eyes over to you.

He was back. Your Coryo was actually here. Suited in a black ensemble, he looked more handsome than you even remembered. How was that possible? He didn’t say anything in his last letter about returning home. Last you remember, he was still waiting back on his officer test results, so why the fuck is he at the University gala?

Whether it took minutes or hours, you kept your spot and waited for him to make his way over. And as soon as his full attention was on you, you couldn’t tell if you were going to sob, faint, or both at once. Long strides took him over to you, where he tilted his head down to view your frame.

Still stuck in a stupor, the best you could get out was, “H-hi.”

His mouth quirked up in a half-smile as he returned his own “Hello, Y/N.”

Your name flowing from his lips finally broke you out of the shocked state you were in as you grabbed his hand and made your way over to one of the balconies hidden behind a large curtain. With the fresh air giving you some reprieve from the heat your body was melting in, you enclosed him in a hug burying your face in his chest. Inhaling his rose scent, all your nerves relaxed. Something only he could ever do.

“Oh, Coryo,” you sighed. “I missed you so much. Every single day I missed you. What are you doing here? Why are you –“ Finally looking up to face him, all you saw was anger painted on his face.

Furrowing your brows, confusion clouded your features as you couldn’t understand why he was looking at you like that.

Jaw ticking, he stayed silent.

“Coryo?” you cooed like a child in trouble.

Something about the way you spoke his name finally had him relaxing his muscles, but still had a hard gaze on you. Quickly looking back over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking your way, he walked you backward toward the rail of the balcony. Arms on either side of you, he closed you in so that the only thing you could see was him.

“I get home,” he started. “Expecting nothing but a warm welcome from my dear Y/N, and what do I see? You looking at that Heavensbee trash like you wanted him to fuck you. Like you wanted him to touch what is mine.”

Surprise crossed your face as you placed your hands on the lapels of his suit jacket.

“W-What?” you stuttered. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Y/N. You think I don’t know what you were trying to do with him? Don’t forget who knows you better than you know yourself.”

He looked at you with a mixture of disgust and thinly veiled hate, like he wasn’t happy to see you at all. Like he didn’t miss you at all.

And you got mad.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Coriolanus.” You spat his name. “As it so happens, I’m a woman with womanly needs, and seeing as I can do as I please, I could go home with him right now and there wouldn’t be a thing you could do about it.”

He sneered at you with a laugh that had no hint of humor behind it. Tightening his grip on the rails he lowered his head down to your ear as you sucked in a quick breath of air at his closeness.

“Oh, Y/N,” he muttered. “You and I both know he’s not what you want. He just wants to get his dick wet and you, love, want mine shoved down your throat.”

Trying your best not to let him get to you, you utterly failed as a tiny whimper escaped the back of your throat and your thighs began to rub together.

Chuckling, Coryo lifted his head again to view your disheveled state. He caressed your neck with a callused hand, rubbing his thumb across your soft spot before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling your mouth close to his.

“He will not have you, Y/N L/N. You are solely mine, and whether I have to speak it, fuck it, or brand it into you, you will remember that. Now,” he released his grip on you. “Say your goodbyes, besides that imbecile Heavensbee, acquire your coat and meet me outside so I can finally stop this tiring back-and-forth and take what is rightfully mine.”

Pure lust layering over any coherent thoughts, all you could do was nod as you smoothed back down your dress and hoped that the cool air was helping your reddened cheeks from becoming too noticeable. Telling your father, you weren’t feeling well, he allowed you to take the car home and let you retire early for the night. Unknowingly to him, Coryo Snow followed you into the vehicle, one hand firmly planted on your bare thigh the entire ride.

---

Between the University to now, your heart rate had increased significantly from Coryo’s actions. You weren’t sure what exactly had gotten into him or what had happened to him since you last said your goodbyes, but the aggressiveness he showed you was an extreme you had never seen before.

Though, you couldn’t really be upset. After all, he had finally admitted to you what you had wanted to hear for almost two decades: he wanted you. And that excited you to no end.

As Coryo watched you fiddle in your seat, he couldn’t help but smirk thinking about how you were acting for him. A few sentences and you were reduced to mush in his hands, willing to do anything to get him back to your room. And it’s not like he was any better.

After his extravaganza in District 12, he realized just how much you meant to him. None of those deplorable District filth specimens could hold a candle to you. His Y/N. His pretty girl who would do anything for him and who he would do anything for.

How it angered him to see you talking to Heavensbee – like he was worth even a glance from you. You were supposed to wait for him, to be a good little girl, and refuse any suitors who tried to have their way with you. And you, you with your ‘womanly needs’ like anyone else would be able to take care of you like he could. No. No, he would make sure that after tonight you would remember who the fuck owns you.

---

After dismissing your driver, you made your way into the penthouse across from the Snows, opening the door and removing your coat, gloves, and shoes at the entrance. Coryo followed suit by unbuttoning his jacket and slipping off his loafers right by yours. Together. Yours and his – as they always should be.

Turning back around to face him, you saw the anger had faded a bit from his features, but a crease still lined in between his brows. He raised his hands to cup your face as he lowered his lips to yours.

This is heaven and I’m dead, you thought to yourself, still in disbelief that this was happening to you. You grabbed his own face in return with newfound enthusiasm as he groaned into your mouth, happy to have you reciprocating his own unhinged lust.

Tongues battling for dominance, you felt him tip your head upwards so he could completely devour your mouth – no question that he was the one in charge. Whimpering into him, he broke the kiss for just a second to see your fluttering eyelids open to him. Blue eyes peering down at you, he gripped open your jaw, spitting into your mouth.

“Swallow.” He commanded. And you happily obliged.

Placing his mouth on yours once more, he lowered himself to grip you behind the knees and lifted you around his waist. Dutifully responding, you wrapped your legs around as he began the trek to your bedroom, spit drooling from both your mouths as if you never wanted to be free from the other.

As he entered your room, you were becoming hotter by the second, needing to get this damned dress off of you. As he set you down on the edge of the bed, his nimble fingers reached behind you to slowly pull the straps down your arms, drawing out the action. He removed his mouth to quickly reattach it to your shoulder, following the line of your dress removal.

Getting to your elbows, you swiftly pulled your arms from between the strap openings, bearing your chest to him. Dilated eyes latched onto your breasts, with his mouth ferociously following suit. You moaned loudly into the room, encouraging him to latch his lips onto your nipple, running his teeth along the perked bud. Not wanting to leave one unattended, he lifted his hand to squeeze and tease your other breast, switching between the two as he saw fit.

“Fuck,” he groaned out as he pulled away. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You whined at the confession. Wanting more, more, more of him. He chuckled.

Finally, slipping the rest of your dress from your body, Coryo growled as you saw you had no undergarments on. The amusement all lost from his face.

He slid his hand around your throat, putting a light amount of pressure on it as he pushed you into the bed. Your own hands went to grip around his wrist, hoping to relieve yourself somewhat of the constraint.

“The fuck, Y/N. What,” he snarked. “Are you some District whore begging for any scrap of dick you can get? Huh? Is that it?”

You attempted to shake your head as he still held you by the neck. “No?” he bemused. “Because walking around with this pretty pussy out on display doesn’t seem like something a Capitol purebred does.”

“Please, Coryo,” you squeaked out. His words were getting to you, along with the pressure still being applied to your neck, adding to your growing wetness. Attempting any chance at receiving friction, you rubbed your thighs together, drawing his eyes down to your ministrations.

“Awe,” he tutted. “Does my sweet little whore need some relief? Is that it?”

He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your impatient nod to come. As it did, he removed his hands from your throat. Feeling your release, you sat up to watch as he unbuttoned his dress shirt in front of you.

“Hmm. And what makes you think you deserve it?” He continued undoing each of the buttons while he raised a brow waiting for your reply.

You looked at him with a pout, widening your legs apart to give him a good view of your glistening pussy.

“Please, Coryo,” you begged once more. “I promise I’ve been good to you. Never even touched another man. Only ever thought of you. Only ever wanted you.”

He discarded his shirt as he listened to your own confessions.

“Only ever me?” he started working on his belt. “Tell me, love, did you think of me when you touched that dirty pussy at night? When you’d fuck yourself on your own fingers, disappointed they couldn’t fill you up enough?”

You were practically salivating at his words, voraciously shaking your head in agreement. You watched as he slipped his pants and socks off, only standing before you in his briefs. Looking low, you could see the bulge hiding behind the article of clothing, just begging to be set free.

Rising to rest on your knees, you looked up to him, eyes urging him to come closer. Doing as you so preciously asked, he towered over you, caressing your face. You practically purred in his hands, nuzzling further into them.

With your own hands free, you started palming at his covered cock. Coryo closed his eyes, pushing himself further into your reach. Enjoying the way you were making him feel, you felt the overwhelming urge to show him just how much you missed him.

“I want to taste you.” You pleaded to him, and his eyes immediately shot to yours as you began lowering the waistband of his trousers. He had an amused look on his face once more, watching his adorable little unsullied pet want to please him. With zero reservations, he let you do as you pleased.

With newfound confidence, you set his aching cock free. It stood straight like a good soldier –  with an angry red tip that was begging for your orders. He was larger than anything you previously experienced – not that you’d ever admit that to your Coryo. However, you didn’t actually get much further than oral activities with your former rendezvous’, hoping and praying that Coryo would be the one to truly mark your body as his. And thank fuck for that.

Bringing your attention back to your current situation, precum was pooling at the tip as you wet your lips in hunger. Gripping the base, you brought your mouth down to give kitten licks to savor his arousal, slowly starting to pump his cock in your hand. He groaned as you continued to give him just enough for stimulation, but not enough to bring him closer to that sweet relief.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Y/N.” he snarled. Grinning at his behavior, you finally enclosed your mouth around his member, eliciting a low moan from him as you took what you could into your throat. Slurping and sucking, the lewd sounds you were making only drove him further towards release.

Wanting to be good for him – only him – you hollowed your cheeks to attempt to take all those lovely eight inches from top to bottom. Breathing through your nose and working your way closer to the hair at the base of his dick, Coryo lost all semblance of his self-control as you sheathed his entire length in your mouth.  

Tearing your already loosening hair free from its previously styled updo, he replaced the pins and trinkets with his own hand, wrapping the strands around and pulling your head back so he could fuck into it.

“Fucking hell. Should’ve –“ He took a deep breath as your throat constricted around him. “Fuck. Should’ve done this years ago. You feel so good.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations bringing him even closer to that sweet peak. Letting him do as you pleased, tears pooled in your eyes from the abuse, but you loved every second of it. Having him lose his precious control around you was the biggest prize you could win.

And all that control was lost in the moment he finally hit his peak. Shoving his dick as far as he could into your mouth, he released every last drop of his spend into you. As he pulled out of you, you greedily swallowed everything he left in your spit-riddled mouth.

Coming down from his high, he flared his nose at you, watching you gulp up any remnants of his seed. He quickly gripped your jaw and pulled you close to his face. Aching from the brutal pace of his hips and now the snake-like vice he had on you, your jaw would sure to be sore for the next couple of days. Yet still, you whimpered up at him.

“Who else did you let do that to you?” Shaking your head, you tried to plead in your actions that you hadn’t – not trusting your own voice to keep your lies hidden. He would know as soon as you opened your mouth anyway.

“No one? You expect me to believe that?” He was growing angrier by the second. “Do you take me for a fool, Y/N?”

“No!” you immediately pleaded. You never wanted him to think you thought ill of him – not when he was your whole world.

“Then tell me.” His hold tightened. “Tell me so I can fucking ruin their meaningless lies for ever touching what doesn’t belong to them.”

You tried to shake your head again, but he held you still. His eyes bore into your own waiting for a reply. Realizing you weren’t going to mislead him any longer, you caved.

“Felix and Pup.” With eyes narrowing, his mouth lifted into a furious grimace. He threw your head backward as you hit the mattress in a puff. You took a deep breath and watched as he began to kneel on the floor by your bed, gripping under your thighs and pulling you until you hit the edge of the bed.

Inches away from your cunt, you could feel his maddened huffs of hot air escape from his mouth and onto you. Running a single finger through your slick, you gasped at the stimulation and threw your head back. Your fingers tangled in the sheets of your bed.

“You let those ignorant, dull bastards touch you?” He spat out. You lifted your head just enough to look at him before you felt him continue to play with your growing wetness, causing you to drop your head back down once more.

Not knowing what to say, you just continued to lay there, hoping that he’d continue to give you any sort of friction on your pleading pussy. Unamused by your silence, he stopped his musings and leaned back. You groaned into the air as you rose your head again.

“Yes.” You admitted. “But it didn’t mean anything! Please, Coryo. You know I’ve only ever needed you.” Attempting to play into his ego, you hoped that he would just get over it and go back to touching you.

“Yeah?” he said, still not touching you. “Then why should I even bother with a slut like you? Whoring yourself out to anyone who looks at you, huh?”

Getting fed up with still not being touched you threw your legs around his head, locking them at the ankles. Glaring down at him, he looked entertained at your angry state, even while still being in his own.

“Yeah?” you mocked back. “And what about you, Coriolanus?”

He raised a brow at your words, silently allowing you to continue your taunt.

“Whoring yourself out to District trash? At least I had the decency to suck a clean dick. What did you expect when you were running around with your precious little –“

Rolling your eyes back, your words died on your tongue as his own ran a strip up your now dripping pussy. Your legs attempted to close around his head, but his large, veined hands kept them apart.

Forgetting about whatever it was that you were mad about before, you started rubbing yourself on his face, whimpering every time his nose caught your clit. Without warning, he entered one of his long fingers into your hole, caressing your innermost parts.

“Fuck, Coryo,” you moaned out as your hands gripped onto the short strands of curls that were starting to return after his Peacekeeper days. Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger – curling it to reach a spot that you’d never been able to find yourself.

He suckled on your clit as he pumped faster, and you grew closer to your own climax. Squelching noises bounced around the room as your arousal pooled around his fingers – so, so, so close to a release.

“Please, Coryo. I’m going to –“ Before you could even finish the sentence, he withdrew his fingers from your heat.

“What the fuck.” You growled out, furious at the loss of your orgasm. But you couldn’t stay mad. Not when he was currently licking his fingers clean, eyes filled with pure bliss. Already, you could feel yourself growing wetter at the sight.

Popping his fingers out of his mouth, he rose to cage you onto the bed. He looked down on you as his arms were planted firmly on either side of you. He tilted his head, seemingly pleased by your struggles.

“Oh, love. Did you think I was going to let you come anywhere but on my cock?” He brought his head down close to your head, licking a stripe up from the base of your neck to the lobe of your ear. You shivered in delight.

“No, my dear. I’ve waited far too long for this to let that beautiful moment go to waste.” He spoke softly to you. “Though, while I do sit with the anticipation of how your release may taste on my tongue, I have the whole night for that. Along with the rest of our lives.”

Coryo softly caressed your face as a moment of vulnerability passed over his face, perhaps one of the rare times you would truly see the boy you fell in love with.

“She was never you.” He whispered.

And you melted. Tears started to well in your eyes at the sweet confession. While you were still upset at heart that he had ever chosen that whore Lucy Gray to begin with, you could live with the fact that he was here now. That he had chosen you now. And over your cold, dead body would you ever let him go.

Shifting your hands to hold the back of his head, you brought his lips down onto your own. Slowing down for just this moment, you tried to convey all your feelings for him in the movement of your mouth. And Coryo sighed into you.

He wasn’t a good man – you both knew this. He was controlling and obsessive and possessive, but he was yours. You weren’t that great of a woman either if you were being honest. Jealousy boiled deep in your veins alongside a pot of anger that constantly threatened to spill over your “kind” persona, but you were his.

In those tangled weaves of fate, you had both found each other, knotted up at the center. No person could come between that, and God help whoever tried.

Shifting your mouth so that he could more aggressively push himself onto you, you said goodbye to the tender intimacy and relished in the way he roughly handled you.

He continued to play with your swollen clit, readying your virgin cunt for his length. Oh, how he was enlivened at the fact that he would be the first, and only, man to sink his cock into your heat. This would bond the two of you even further than you already were, marking you as his forever.

Slipping off the undergarment that he still wore, you and he were now fully bare to each other – like the Greek sculptures of old. Lovers before the fall. Viewed as soft and malleable, but in truth were filled with the hardness of their years – ready to find solace in the only other being that could see them as they truly were.

Taking his cock in his hand, Coryo began to rub his cock up and down your wet pussy. You moaned each time he swiped over your pearl and even more so when he put a bit of pressure on your tight hole.

“Fuck, Coryo.” You cried. “Just put it in already. Please. I need to fucking feel you.”

Your sweet begging was like music to his ears, and the cut of his restraint. Wasting no more time, he slowly started inching his way into you. Grunting, he rocked himself into you as you grimaced from the pain.

“Shit.” He moaned out. “You’re so fucking tight. Just relax for me, hmm, love? You’re doing so well. My good little girl.”

His praises went right to your core as your body began to open up more for him. Sinking yourself further into the mattress, he took one more thrust to fill you up completely.

Looking at you with only a sliver of blue around his blackened pupil, he groaned low and deep from the back of his throat after being fully sheathed in you. You, on the other hand, were still adjusting to the intrusion, but soon the pain subsided and all you wanted him to do was move.

“I’m okay, love.” You whined, giving him the go-ahead to finally start rocking his hips against yours.

Ever so slowly, he ran his length in your heat, getting you both accustomed to the feeling – addicting yourselves to it, more like. And with every thrust, he began to lose that self-control once more, pushing harder and deeper into you.

“God, Y/N. You’re sucking me right in.” He clenched his jaw at the pleasure coursing through him as you moved your hands up to grip his shoulders, digging your nails into him.

All you could feel was him. In you. Around you. His smell flowed into your nostrils as sweat and sex filled the air around you. And you couldn’t get enough.

“Coryo. Coryo. Coryo.” Your brain was turning to mush the more you could feel him rib against your walls. His name a prayer on your tongue and his body a temple as you worshipped both and all.

“Fuck.” He grabbed onto the back of your knees to lift your legs above his shoulders. Switching angles, he could reach even more of you as he pounded you into the bed. Squealing from the stimulation and pure pleasure, you held onto the sheets in a vice, trying not to spiral away.

“Look at this pretty fucking cunt. All mine.” He started rambling as he became drunk on your pussy. “I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to– fuck. Who even looks at you. I’ll fucking send them right to Gaul’s fucking mutations and watch as they die. Shit. I’ll fuck you right next to their corpse. Have them drown in their blood and our cum.”

His thrusts became more rapid as your cunt squeezed around him from his words. You couldn’t help the whines and moans as you thrashed your head back and forth.

“Hmph.” He grunted. “Like that, huh? Good. My dark little seductress. My perfect rose. Mine.” He thrusted into you.

“Mine.” Thrust.

“Mine.” Harder.

“Mine.” Deeper.

“God, yes.” You cried. “All yours! Please, please, please.”

Your words started to become unintelligent after you continued to search for your high. Coryo, noticing your state, began to play with your clit once more. Aching for you to cum all over his cock.

His own eyes rolled to the back of his head as he got closer and closer to his own release. With a foggy head, he quickly pulled out before immediately flipping you onto your stomach as you huffed out a disapproving whine. Filling you back up, however, had you right back to your drunken state.

“That bitch from 12 could never compare to you.” His tongue loosened confessions as he kept ramming his hips into your ass. “Fucking– fuck. Only used her so she would win. So I could– shit. Could go with you to University.”

You were barely comprehending his words at this point. Moaning obscenities into the sheets below you, you let him ramble without complaint.

“Make sure you didn’t try to find someone else there. No one– fucking damn it. No one else can have you. Gonna fuck you full of my cum and make sure everyone knows that.”

He felt you groan into the sheets again in pleasure. Gripping your hair, he pushed you further down as your back arched higher into the air. Keeping one knee on the bed, he bent the other to reach as deep as he could to fill you up.

“Coryo.” You drawled out in a lust-filled, husky voice.  

“I know, love. I know.” He felt you starting to twitch as your orgasm neared. “Never gonna let you go. Never gonna let you leave me.”

“Fuck!” You gasped into the sheets as you felt that coil tighten in your lower stomach. Tingles shot from your toes to your head as you waited for it to snap.

“Coryo!” you whined once more. “Please, I’m gonna come. Wanna come on your cock so bad. Let me come, please!”

Grunting, he reached around your torso to find your clit. Wrapping himself around you, he began twisting and rubbing on your pearl, making your release come faster and faster until –

“Come on my fucking cock, Y/N. Come on pretty girl.” And through his words and actions, that wave finally crashed as you moaned his name loudly into the bed. Legs shaking slightly, you kept rocking your hips back to meet his, riding out the best orgasm you’d ever felt.

You could tell Coryo was getting close too, by the way his thrusts got sloppier and paced quicker. He kept groaning your name under his breath wanting nothing more than to fill you with his seed.

Leaning his head down on your shoulders, he bit hard into your soft skin, marking his territory. You whined into the sheets as you could feel another wave coming toward you. Feeling you constricting around him had him suckling on the skin all over your neck – making sure there would be no doubts about who you belonged to.

“Fuck, Coryo.” You said as that coil began to tighten once more. “I want you to come in me. Want to– hmph. Want to drip with your seed.”

Growling right by your ear, he pushed even deeper into you, as the both of you chased your highs.

“Gonna get you pregnant with my kids.” Closer the two of you were getting, that beautiful high right in sight. “See your stomach swell with my babes. Over and over again.”

You both moaned out, so close.

All it took was one more deep thrust until Coryo painted your walls white as the driven snow. Your own release followed shortly behind as your body began to slump from exhaustion.

Coryo was entranced by the ring of both of your cum around his cock, slowly rocking it back into you to make sure it took. He will have you with him when he rules Panem. He will have you carry his children and be there to take care of him, as he would you. And he will never let you go.

Both of you falling into a mess of limbs on your bed, you couldn’t help but admire the man who lay next to you, wanting nothing more than for every day to be with him. An adoring smile graced your face as you traced his features.

He watched you with curiosity, before pulling you in by your waist to be even closer to him. You snuggled into his chest as his strong arms wrapped around you, sighing contently. Ever so slowly, your eyes began to droop, heavy with sleep. But, before you surrendered to your slumber, you whispered out to Coryo.

“I love you.” And you fell asleep.

His eyes widened slightly with fear. He feared for not only your feelings for him but his feelings for you. He never truly loved Lucy Gray, but you. You were always the holder of his heart, and he knew that was dangerous in the games he would yet have to play.

But he was a selfish man. He wouldn’t be letting you go, and he wouldn’t let anyone else get their hands on you – lover or enemy. He would keep you close, always in his sight, always safe. And really, what did he have to worry about?

“I love you too,” he whispered to your sleeping form.

Everything would work out for you two, he would make sure of it.

Besides, he thought to himself,

Snow always lands on top.

[beetlesau]

Bus Ride, Drabble Dabble, Bakugo/Reader

I'm obsessed with the idea that Bakugo would go feral for a woman that's as normie as his dad just because his mom CHASED his dad DOWN because she wanted him, And Bakugo is his moms twin. ANYWAY. Just messing around with a tame version of that idea. Being bored. Zero Edits, I don't even know if I spelt names correctly lol K Baaiiiii

"Why does your hair look like that?" Mineta peaked over the bus seat down at you. You instinctually pulled the collar of your shirt up to cover any cleavage that could have been showing from that view. 

You sighed, it was a common question back in school before UA. You'd been made fun of for it for as long as you could remember, but you never cared. It was your second year at UA, you'd thought someone would have said something sooner than now, but here you were. You made an obvious glance up at Mineta's purple grapelike head before bringing your attention back to his face. 

"Same reason yours looks like that, I guess. Our quirk just made us different." You looked back down to a Heroes Weekly Tabloid magazine you'd been busying yourself with prior. 

Your hair was normal, bland even, save for the bands of white that flowed down from your temples. The doctors said that when your quirk manifested, it must have put such a strain on you that your body responded in the odd way it did. The same thing happened to your eye color. You had such intense grey eyes after your quirk appeared you hardly remember the color they were before that day.  

"No I mean your haircut!" he chided. Your eye twitched before you looked up again at the pervert menace. You noticed that comment also grabbed the attention of the others on the bus. 

In the seat across from Mineta sat Ashido and Uraraka. Uraraka, who sat by the window, glowered at the boy as best as her round sweet face could. Ashido sneered and shot a glance over to Mineta's seatmate, Kaminari. A look that said, "if you don't do something, I will."

Kaminari, not wanting to have his face melted off as collateral damage, stood in his chair and turned back to face you as well. He put on his best flirty smile and propped his cheek on his fist. "I don't know, I think it looks pretty good. Edgy. Mysterious."

"Yeah, it's a mystery why she has that haircut. It's so unflattering on you! You could be an absolute ten if you'd just--"

Mina flung her leg across the aisle, shoving her boot into Mineta AND Kaminari's sides.

"You dimwitted jerks! You're lucky she doesn't have Uraraka float your two asses and hog tie you to the bus like a couple of balloons!"

"Say the word and I'll do it, girl!" Uraraka looked at you with her dusted pink cheeks. She may have been a softy but she was a ride-or-die. 

You laughed at your two best friends and shook your head no. It was alright. It wasn't anything you weren't used to.

"She cuts it herself." a gravelly voice across from you catches your attention. "Didn't you say that, like, first day of school? Do you not pay attention, idiots?" Bakugo takes one of his earphones out as he readjusts against his school bag. All the noise must have bothered him enough to chime in. 

All four members of the conversation lean out into the aisle and look back at the blonde. Did he just say he remembered some random thing someone said about themselves? 

"Oh. Right, yeah I kind of do remember that." Kaminari pulls out his phone and starts typing away like a madman. Not seconds later a couple of simultaneous dings are heard a bit further up the bus. "Uh, do you know why she cuts it herself though?"

"What's it to you dumbass? She's right there, ask her yourself." he sucks his teeth annoyed, but looks over to you. "Don't tell this shithead anything you don't want to." You smiled at him, your cheeks finding a bit of color before you turned back to Kaminari. You raised your eyebrows at him as though to say, "You heard the man."

Kaminari groans before trying a new tactic. "I mean, I already know the answer. I remember, I was just trying to see if YOU remembered. In fact, I think I probably know more about her than anyone else on this bus." he stated matter-of-factly. You looked at him with an incredulous expression before the hothead across from you spoke out again. 

"You're full of shit." he turns to you again, "You cut it that way so it doesn't get in your way! That's why it doesn't matter what the hell it looks like. You're not trying to win fuckin beauty pageants, you're trying to kick villain ass."

"What's going on, what did I miss? What was that text about?" Kirishima crouched in the aisle, looking to Kaminari for answers. 

"Kirishima, thank god! Mineta move, let Kirishima sit there, you've been a menace long enough today." Mineta checked the seat Kirishima had just come from and saw it was across from Yaoyorozu and agreed without too much fuss.

"Oh, man, you just missed Bakugo say that the lil lady back here isn't winning any beauty pageants." Kaminari slowly shook his head in mock disappointment. 

"WHAT THE HELL? DID I FUCKING SAY THAT??? YOU WANNA KEEP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH?" Bakugo shot up from his seat, sparks popping off his hands that gripped the back of Ashido and Uraraka's chair, the smell of scorched plastic permeated before Uraraka opened her window.

"It's okay Bakugo, he's just trying to mess with you. You're right though, I just hate having my hair in my eyes so I cut my bangs myself." you blow air up from your mouth and watch as the short choppy fringe fluttered about just a bit. "One of these days I'm gonna have tech support just make me a built-in headband so I can grow them out. The grow-out stage is a bitch, is all. " you laugh.

"So that's why Bakugo called you Fringe for the first year of school!" Kirishima nodded in understanding.

"Hey, Kirishima, do you know her favorite color, by the way?" Kaminari ponders dramatically. 

"Uh, It'd be a guess, but no I don't think I've ever asked--What is your favorite color?" Kirishima politely and enthusiastically requested the information from you now. 

"Oh! Well now hold on a minute, maybe we SHOULD guess it." Kaminari's words were laced with a layer of sticky entrapment but you were curious to see where he was going with all this nonsense. 

"Sure, go ahead." you shrugged. 

"Let's take turns guessing. Is it teal?" he looked at you expectantly, and you gave him a cocked side-eye. 

"No-"

"OH darn. Okay Bakugo, your turn. What's her favorite color?"

"This is stupid." he huffed

"Well if you don't know, just say so--"

"It's the same as her birthstone, jackass."

Your blush told Kaminari he was correct, or at least close enough. 

"What makes you so sure? Did she tell you?"

"Obviously it's the same as her birthstone, she has a bracelet she wears that's that color, so why wouldn't it be? It's not that hard to figure out if you weren't an idiot."

"--you know her birthdate?" Uraraka's eyes were wide and she was blushing profusely, knowing full well what was happening. 

"What's her favorite food?" Mina piped up, ignoring the subtlety that Kaminari was attempting, seeing exactly what he was trying to get from the angry blonde. 

"How the hell should I know." Bakugo sunk back down in his seat, attempting to put his dead earphones back on, conveying he was done with the interrogation. 

"Well that's a tough one anyway, I'll eat just about anything. I'm not picky." you shrugged, trying to save Bakugo from any more annoyance. 

"Psh. Yeah, but you have such an annoying sweet tooth. I swear I came down to the common area one time and you were practically scarfing down a cupcake. I thought you'd end up eating the wrapper." Bakugo interjected. 

"Oh, that's ... That's true actually!" you grinned. "Well, the sweets part. I was not going to eat the wrapper! Sato had made some for the class. Maybe if you didn't go to bed so early you could of known how amazing it was." you pouted.

"I don't eat sweets before bed, are you nuts? How's anyone supposed to sleep hopped up on sugar? I don't know how you do it." he mumbled, crossing his arms and spreading to take up more room in his seat. 

"Ah, well I suppose I do have trouble falling asleep sometimes." you considered, "I should try out your schedule for a week and see if it helps!"

"WHY ARE YOU ALL STARING? What the fuck could you all have to look at? Fucking annoying." Bakugo stopped to yell when he noticed the small group of onlookers were, well, still looking at the two of you. 

"Kaminari, he's right, you should mind your own business." Mina said as she and Uraraka turned back around to go back to their own thing. Mina turned to send you a glance and pointed at her phone, indicating you should check your phone. 

Looking at your recent messages you see one from the pinkette,

So are you going to pretend it's normal for THAT guy to know everything about you??

You bit your lip as you glanced over at the annoyed guy staring into the back of the seat in front of him. His leg was bouncing in boredom and probably irritation if you had to guess.

Mina was your best friend, but she could be a bit dramatic. 

You weren't sure you were ready to tell her that Bakugo had made it known to you that he was interested. Like, VERY interested.

And you were, less obviously, interested back. You knew his favorite food. His favorite color. He even told you things that made him feel insecure and confided his feelings about being a hero to you. 

It happened suddenly one day. You noticed him looking at you, like actually looking. He held you back after class and said your actual name and not just fringe. That was when you realized you had feelings for him. You didn't hate the nickname, and you considered yourself on good terms with him. He acknowledged your strength and treated you as an equal. But something about the way he said your name made your mind go fuzzy. It felt like you'd just woken from a dream and saw him for the first time. Were his eyes always that intense? 

"I talked to my old man the other day, and he told me some gross shit about how when he and my mom met- she pursued him relentlessly. Borderline insane is what it sounded like to me. My pop apparently doesn't have a spine and he just gave in. Whatever." Bakugo rolled his eyes before waiting for you to say something. 

"Oh! Um, I don't know, I guess I can see how that's romantic. Uh, why are you telling me this though?" you shuffled your weight from one foot to the other, noticing there was a bit too much heat bouncing off the two of you. 

Bakugo bit the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to find the wording. "I'm not crazy like that. I'm not some clone of my old Hag I just wanted to say." he lifted his arm to stretch his back, his actions nonchalant for such an odd topic of conversation. "Anyway, I waited a year is all I wanted to say, so I think I'm going to persue you now."

"Wh-what? You waited. Ah what?" you stammered, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. "W-what if I don't want you to pursue m-me?" you laughed. You were nervous. And nervous you always say something to deflect the awkward feelings. 

"I'm not very good at not getting what I want, but like I said-I'm not crazy like that old hag, I'll let you have your own say. Anyway. I'll see you later." and then he left you standing there dazed and confused. 

You looked over to him now, sitting alone in his seat. Why else would you have been sitting in the back if not because you knew he'd be back here? You smile to yourself. While this could be your secret for a little while longer you really couldn't resist after seeing his commitment to knowing you in front of the others. 

You pull out your earphones, put one ear in, and hold out the other to Bakugo, who accepts without hesitation. He shoots you a nod and pushes his bag to the floor making room for you to sit by him. 

And you do. You probably will for the rest of your life if he has his way, and you're happy with that. 

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,881 Pairing: Negan x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language (duh), allusions to past violence and flashbacks Summary: Y/N decides Negan has earned just a little bit more freedom. A/N: This is part 2 of a miniseries... lol or maybe not so mini? I'm not sure yet! Slow burn takes time to do well... anyway, first part is linked below! HAPPY WICKED WEDNESDAY! Bad Medicine - Part 1

You came in late that evening. Negan looked up from his book. Something he thought was maybe relief washed over him to see you again, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe he just didn’t want another tense exchange with Daryl… Maybe he was just glad not to be alone.

You slid his tray through the slot and watched curiously as he carefully tucked a torn scrap of paper into the pages of his book to mark his place. “What’re you reading?” you asked.

“Some book Gabriel left me,” he said. “I think I’ve read it five times.”

“What is it?” you asked again.

“Some nautical whaling adventure bullshit,” Negan said, bending to pick up his tray.

“Is it any good?” you asked.

“It was the first time. Maybe a bit the second. But not anymore,” he said with a dry laugh, sinking back down on his cot to settle into his dinner.

“I can bring you some other things to read. What do you like?” you offered.

His hazel eyes shot up to you, his expression unreadable for a moment. “Now, why would do that, doll?”

You ignored his use of the pet name and simply shrugged. “Because I’d hate to have to read the same thing over and over and over with no choice.”

“Isn’t that what me bein’ in here is all about? No choice?”

You paused reflectively. “Maybe at first, as a punishment for everything you did. But now—I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m not gonna fuckin’ turn down some new reading material if you’re offerin’.” A mischievous glint grew in his eyes. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any naughty stuff layin’ around, do you?” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “Negan…”

“Honestly, homemade pictures would be even better if you have the means—”

“I’m leaving,” you growled, turning to go.

He laughed heartily and you were surprised that your steps faltered at the sound. “Come on! I’m only kidding! Ish…”

You turned back around and shot him a look.

“Here’s a question: what’s the deal with you and Daryl?” he asked, taking an exploratory bite out of his sandwich.

Your eyebrows lifted. “Seriously? That’s what you want to talk about?”

He shrugged. “Well, this whole Gabe-Siddiq-Rosita love triangle has me on the edge of my seat. Can you blame me for hoping to scrounge up another such juicy morsel? You know I love a bit of drama. It’s a real-life telenovela.”

You rolled your eyes but paced back toward his cell and took a seat in the wooden chair outside it. “Daryl is… I consider him my brother,” you said. “And I’d die for him. He’s family.”

“You sure he knows about this bein’ ‘brotherly’ love?” Negan laughed. “He gave me quite a talking to about you earlier…”

“Considering your past, can you blame him?”

“No,” Negan admitted. “No, I can’t… So, no hanky-panky there, huh?” Negan asked, leaning forward to study your face as if trying to confirm what you’d just told him, still smiling. “Too bad for him… Guy could probably use some, right? Help chill him the fuck out,” he laughed.

You shot him a disapproving stare and he tried to look apologetic with only some success. “Are you through?” you asked, your tone bored.

“Yeah, I guess so. Thanks for the meal,” he said. You climbed to your feet, nodding.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We’ll do the same thing. There’s more to do over there.”

“You got it, boss,” Negan acknowledged. “Hey—Y/N—I know I can be an asshole, but I really meant what I said earlier. Thank you.”

You only nodded and gave him a tight smile.

And that was how you and Negan continued, for quite some time. It took you over a week to get the area completely cleared and the rescued medicinal plants transplanted. After that, you ended up having Negan build the new raised beds and help you install them. He could be surprisingly handy when he wasn’t busy cracking jokes and he seemed genuinely grateful for something to do to pass the time. It was surprising how easily the two of you got into an almost comfortable routine. You often were reminding yourself that all you were doing was building rapport so you could help Negan make progress, whatever that meant… It still seemed to be some vague, shapeless idea in your mind, but the thought of Carl and Rick and your loyalty and sense of duty to help Michonne kept you going.

Finally, with that project done, you decided it was time to start venturing outside the walls. Considering how well things had been going, Daryl couldn’t disagree with you anymore, though he did continually feel the need to remind you not to let your guard down. He also requested that you stay close to Alexandria when you ventured out, something you agreed to as sensible, at least to start.

Afterall, if Negan really was to someday assimilate back into this weird version of “society,” this step-by-step, gradual building of trust and rapport seemed like the way to do it.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You lightly tossed a canvas pack at him after swinging the cell door open and he caught it against his chest, giving you a curious look.

“Think you can handle going outside the walls today?” you asked him.

Negan looked surprised. “With careful supervision, I’m assuming?”

“Obviously,” you said.

He nodded, still looking a little stunned. “You trust me enough to take me outside the walls?”

“Enough,” you agreed, cocking one eyebrow.

Negan let out a low laugh. “Alright… What’s the plan then for today, warden?”

You rolled your eyes. He’d taken to calling you that since you’d given him a few stern looks in response to his usual pet names. “Foraging,” you said simply. “We running low on a few things.”

Negan stepped out of his cell with the bag slung over his shoulder, his canteen now stored inside alongside the smaller bags you’d tossed in for keeping gathered ingredients separated. “And I’m serving mostly as the pack mule?” he asked, watching you brush past him closely to swing his cell shut behind him. Was he imagining it or had your hand brushed his arm? Probably imagining it…

“Pack mule?” you repeated. You held up your own pack to show him. “No. I’m gonna collect mine into my bag, and you’re gonna store whatever you find in your own. I’ve been teaching you plants for a couple weeks now. I thought we’d see what you’ve learned,” you explained. “Unless, you’d rather stay here and—”

“No,” Negan interrupted you, almost a little too eagerly. He laughed a little nervously and the sound was deep and had a slightly gruff edge to it. “No,” he repeated, less eager. He ran a hand back through his hair and shrugged. “I’d rather not sit in my cell doing fuck-all, thanks.”

You smiled at him a little and he tried to ignore the way his heart jumped in his chest. Uh oh. What was that? Surely that was just because you were the only woman who’d smiled at him in maybe… six years?

“That’s what I thought,” you said. “Come on.”

Negan followed you through town toward the gate and you both tried your hardest to ignore the not-so-subtle stares. You should have been used to it by now, but whenever you stepped out with Negan beside you, you felt as if you were on display. The man may as well have been wearing a sign advertising his past crimes. There would never be any complete escape from his reputation and past. All you could hope for was a tiny seed of redemption… and some days even that seemed hard.

As you approached the gate, Negan cleared his throat and glanced over at you.

“Hmm?” you hummed, absently waving to Rosita who was on the guard platform.

“So, Daryl was okay with this?” Negan asked and you shot him a weird look.

“What does Daryl have to do with anything? What is your obsession with him?” you asked.

“Uhh—he fuckin’ hates me and threatened to kill me if I tried to hurt you or—do anything he perceives as being out of line,” Negan admitted. “You can see why that’s of slight concern to me,” he finished.

“Makes sense,” you said, not at all surprised. “But Daryl trusts my judgement, so when I told him I thought you were ready for slightly more freedom he was fine with it and so was Michonne. And if we aren’t back by dark, they’ll come looking. They know exactly where we’ll be,” you explained, stepping out past the gate with Negan just behind you. The metallic rattle continued until you heard the familiar slam and clunk of the latch, indicating you were firmly outside the walls. You looked over at Negan and he had a queer expression on his face, his eyes flitting over the scenery ahead. “It’s been a minute, hmm, since you’ve seen outside,” you commented.

He nodded, his hazel eyes finally landing back on you. “Yeah,” he said. He pulled in a deep breath, filling his lungs to the brim and then let it out slowly.

You thought he almost seemed emotional and you again marked the vulnerability you were seeing in him. This Negan seemed far different from the one who had brandished the baseball bat… “Come on,” you said, nodding your head toward the tree line.

Negan hesitated. “Hey, uhh… What if—” he stopped, breaking off abruptly and you gave him a curious look. “Just—I can’t exactly defend myself if shit goes sideways out here, can I? You’re certainly not gonna hand me a knife,” he laughed dryly.

You smiled vaguely. “I’ll protect you, Negan,” you said. For some reason, this made him laugh and your eyes shot over to him. “What? You don’t think I can?”

“No, it’s not that. Not at all. It’s just—bit of a role reversal from my Savior days, isn’t it?”

Your face grew sad, the smile fading, and the look in your eyes grew more distant. “You weren’t a savior, Negan. The only person you were really saving was yourself,” you said decisively.

“I kept a lot of people alive in the Sanctuary before your group showed up,” he retorted.

“Alive?” you repeated, rounding on him. “Alive in the same way we’ve been keeping you alive in that cell. Maybe alive, but not living. How often did you even think about what the lowest of the workers were going through? Scraping for points, wondering if they’d have enough to feed their kids, let alone themselves. I bet you didn’t think of them even once a day. You were too busy indulging in whatever the fuck you wanted.”

Negan’s brow dropped low over his hazel eyes and he looked reflective, as if truly considering the weight of your words. When you started walking again, he followed behind you in silence and you could feel a tension between the two of you for several long minutes. But by the time you started pointing out plants to him, it had diminished.

Negan was a fast learner and it wasn’t long before you both had a few of the small foraging bags full of herbs and mushrooms. You’d only had to correct him a couple times on his identification. (“Not those unless you want to go back to being in your cell all the time, Negan,” you’d said. You scraped your nail down the stem and it suddenly bruised bright yellow before your eyes. He’d flinched and dropped the poisonous mushroom, an easy to make mistake for a new learner. “Fuck me! No, I sure as shit do not,” he’d said, casting an apologetic look at you. You’d given him an encouraging smile and told him it was alright.)

He found himself laughing and shaking his head suddenly, tucking another small bag into the canvas pack.

“What?” you prompted him.

“Just—look at me? I’m out here following you around in the woods picking mushrooms and leaves like a fucking Disney princess. Life is wild,” he said. His hazel eyes were crinkled in a smile and you took in the sparking nature of the light in them and the genuine ease of him just existing in that moment. The salt and pepper in his beard was more noticeable now that he’d been keeping it neat and trimmed again and it wasn’t lost on you that the somewhat slumped posture of his shoulders seemed to have lessened lately.

You sighed and nodded your agreement. “It sure it,” you agreed. “If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be out here with you, I’d have taken it as a threat.” You turned back to the plant in front of you and plucked a few more leaves before glancing over at him again. You were surprised to see that his eyes were still on you. “Do you miss it?” you asked him suddenly. You were still down on one knee on the leaf litter and he was standing above you, his tall, lean frame stretching upwards. An involuntary flash of the line-up suddenly burst in your mind, hot and red, and you nearly fell over, all your breath leaving in a rush. You put a hand down to steady yourself and Negan watched your head drop and your eyes squeeze closed. Your other hand drifted to the handle of your gun, as if you were reassuring yourself it was still there.

“Hey—” Negan said, concern thick in his voice. “You okay, doll?”

You gathered yourself, gulping at the sudden tightness in your throat, and then stood up quickly, nodding. “Yeah. I’m fine. And don’t call me that… I think—I think we’re about done for today,” you said hurriedly, tucking the supplies back into your own pack.

He nodded, his brow still heavily furrowed. “Okay,” he said, his voice unsure. But he fell into step beside you again. The tension in the air had returned. Negan let it stretch for a minute before he broke the silence, genuinely feeling his concern like a tightness across his chest. “You aren’t gonna tell me what that was about back there?”

You didn’t turn to look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you. You focused straight ahead instead, and navigated stepping over some fallen wood while you answered. “No,” you said simply.

“Okay.” Negan forced himself to pull his eyes away from you, nodding, and fell silent again. Neither of you spoke on the short walk back to the gate nor all the way back to the cell. You finally looked up and met his eyes again as he handed you the pack he’d had slung over his shoulder, now full of foraged tidbits that would make life just a little bit better or a little bit more enjoyable for many residents.

Negan studied your expression, and he thought you looked sad. There was really no other word for it. His hands slipped into his pockets and he stepped back into his cell just far enough to allow you to close the door, not taking his eyes off you. The bolt locking him in echoed in the space.

“Thanks for your help today,” you said, meeting his eyes one more time.

His brow furrowed even more heavily over his eyes. “Sure,” he said, nodding. “Not sure you should be thankin’ me, though. Probably should go the other way around.”

You didn’t really acknowledge his response, just added his canvas bag to your shoulder and licked your lips nervously. “I’ll make sure you get lunch soon,” you said.

Negan watched you turn and leave, puzzled and frankly a little worried. His fingers curled around the cold iron bars of his cell as the outside door slammed behind you.

Once you were back in the sunshine, you made your way toward the pantry with the bags, with a detour to find Daryl at Aaron’s house. He was just where you expected he’d be, working in the garage.

He turned at the sound of your footsteps and straightened up hurriedly when he realized it was you and perhaps because he sensed something or read it on your face. “Hey,” he drawled, wiping his hands absently on the bandana from his back pocket. “How’d it go out there?” he asked eagerly.

You nodded thoughtfully, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. “Good,” you said. “Pretty good…”

His eyes narrowed. “Ya sure?” he prodded you. “Somethin’ happen?” He was already bristling, ready to go punch Negan across the jaw if he needed to.

“Not exactly,” you said hesitantly, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

Daryl frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“I mean—he didn’t do anything. I just—I had a flashback,” you said, your eyes growing a bit distant. “To back then. At the line-up,” you murmured, ducking your head and blinking fast to clear away the tears in your eyes. “I was kneeling down, picking tea leaves off this plant and I looked up and he was sort of standing over me and it just—it triggered something,” you admitted.

Daryl looked deeply concerned, the line between his eyebrows deepening. “Was it somethin’ in yer gut? Did ya feel… unsafe?”

“No,” you said, almost urgently, looking up at him and catching his blue eyes again. There was a touch of faint disbelief in your own voice. “That’s the thing. I don’t feel unsafe around him now. It was just something about the angle. I looked up and he was standing there and—” You broke off and sighed again. “I don’t know…”

Daryl leaned forward on his hands on the workbench between you. “Well, it ain’t like all that past shit just goes away,” he said. “I couldn’t do what yer doin’,” Daryl admitted. You gave him a curious look and he nodded. “If I walked him out into the woods, he wouldn’t be comin’ back.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Yeah… Anyway, I just—I hate to ask you…” you hesitated again.

“Ask me,” he said. “It’s alrigh’.”

“Would you mind just getting lunch together and taking it to him? I think I just need a break for a little bit. Or I can ask Michonne,” you added.

“S’alrigh’. I’ve got it. Michonne is busy with the kids. Soon as I finish up in here, I’ll pull somethin’ together.”

You look relieved. “Thank you,” you sighed.

“S’nothin’,” he said. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and you could tell he was on the edge of saying something. “Ya dun have to do this, ya know. If it’s too much—he can rot in that cell for everythin’ he did. Fuck him,” Daryl said pointedly, throwing in a small smirk as he said the last two words.

You had to laugh a little at that. “Yeah, I know. It’s okay. I don’t give up that easily. I’ll be good by the time he needs his evening meal. Thanks, Daryl.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Negan looked up, hesitant, as he heard the outside door open. He was expecting to see Daryl coming in again. He couldn’t stop turning what had happened outside the walls in the morning over and over in his head. He scrutinized his own behavior and yours. He thought through all the conversations… but he’d come up empty as far as any reason as to why you’d abruptly ended the field trip or why Daryl had brought him lunch instead of you. He was annoyed by the tight pit in his stomach. His lunch sat untouched still, right where Daryl had pushed it through the slot into his cell.

But it wasn’t Daryl coming in with his dinner. It was you.

Negan had nearly jumped to his feet before he could stop himself. “Hey,” he said, the same novel dangling at his side. You stopped at the bars of his cell.

“Hi,” you greeted him. You looked down at the still full tray just inside the slot and then back up to meet his hazel eyes. “Not hungry today?” you asked, cocking one eyebrow at him.

He shrugged and took a few steps toward you. “Honestly? I was a little worried I wasn’t gonna see you again,” Negan admitted. His tone wasn’t jesting or sarcastic. “After this morning, you know… outside the walls.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nodding. “I see.”

He laughed a little and shook his head. “There’s that therapist response again.”

“Well, do you want this? Or should I save it for tomorrow,” you asked him, looking down at his still full tray on the floor.

“You can save it. I’ll eat my lunch. Less work for you tomorrow,” he said.

You nodded and set the tray aside on the chair outside his cell for a moment. “I have something else for you,” you said, digging into the bag hanging from your shoulder. Negan watched curiously as you withdrew several books. “I raided the library. I tried to pick some things I thought you’d like but—I realized I have no idea what you’d actually like… So. I guessed,” you said.

You gave him an expectant look and he came to the cell door. You passed each book through the bars to him one by one. Negan was highly aware of your fingers being only inches from his. He could have brushed your hand with his if he’d wanted to.

“Thanks,” he said, new books in hand. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You nodded. “I know.” Your response drew another gruff laugh from him.

“I’ll go put this aside,” you said, collecting the tray again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Negan.”

He hesitated just a moment, gulping at the lump in his throat. “You don’t need to tell me what happened out there… Of course you don’t. You don’t owe me anything. But right before, you were asking me if I missed it,” Negan said. You’d turned back to look at him again, curious. “Do I miss being the fucking King of the Castle?” He paused and his tongue swept out over his bottom lip. “Yeah. I do,” he admitted. “I miss the freedom. I miss people paying attention to me, listening when I fucking talk, getting me whatever the hell I want… But I don’t miss all the bullshit that came with it and what I had to do to maintain that power.”

There was a strange expression on your face and then you sighed. “I guess that’s something,” you said softly. “See you tomorrow, Negan.”

[iamjellyfish]

❥A/n: I lowkey prefer writing Yandere lol, either angst or Yandere is my taste. Anyway, is there anything in my writing that needs improvement? After this fic, I'm going on hiatus for a bit because I need to write a comic for a contest (wish me luck!).

❥Part: 1 2 (ur here)

❥Summary: it seems your childhood friend isn't who he appears to be. What now?

❥Warning: YANDERE, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NONCON, 18+, questionable actions, (probably more).

The darkness filled the room, you don't remember your room being this dark. Your head hurts, both hurt and dizzy. With hands moving around looking for your phone, you realize this isn't your room, the furniture is familiar but the texture of it proves otherwise. You waited a bit for your eyes to get used to the dark then move to turn on the light. "Ugh, that is uncomfortable."

You look around to see a room that is familiar to your room on the base, with identical decorations. thud...thud...thud. You walk to the door, this place is weird, something feels so wrong and you can't recall how you got here. Click...click...click. Nice, the door is locked, someone is either playing a prank on you or someone messed up has kidnapped you.

Theories start popping up in your head, could this be the stalker? If this is a prank, who can pull it off? It's totally not Soshiro. Before you can continue your deduction on this puzzle that caught you, the answer finally presents itself to you. Click. The door opens, and your eyes move to see it's Soshiro.

"Ah, Soshiro, is this some kind of prank? Didn't know you would pull this type of prank-" You spoke but Soshiro put his index finger on your lips with a shh, you were thinking how arrogant that was but Soshiro started speaking.

"I know you're a little confused, but wifey, this isn't a prank!"

"wifey? Soshiro, please explain! What's happening here?"

You said, confusion and fear filling your eyes, Soshiro could see how afraid are you, in fact, he saw through your mind. His lips form a smirk, and his eyes open to create a threatening stare. Soshiro moves his face closer to yours.

"Well, I have been in love with you for quite a long time. No. That won't convert how much I love you. My heart is yours. Might as well take it out and gift it to you."

He said softly, his hand caressing your cheeks, you look into his eyes with fear, you don't know what to do now. You could feel Soshiro's slow breaths on your skin, his eyes tracing down every inch of you. You want to say something but Soshiro continues.

"You see, being a soldier mean that there are risks, risks of you getting harmed, risks of you getting in a coma, worst case scenarios, you die. And I can't stand that chance."

Soshiro said, before you could protest, he held you close. His arm wraps around you possessively, he might hug you a little too tight but you can't push him away. Seem like you have to try to talk him out of it, so you return the hug, a hand rub the back of his head. You lay your head on his shoulder as you spoke.

"You know Soshiro, I fight so I can protect people, so I can protect you. Even if you're afraid that something might happen to me, I still have to fight. Don't worry I promise you I will be fine."

Your soft voice is like a lullaby to him, it made him calm down and want to drown himself in you more but deep down he can't stand you getting hurt, stand you leaving him for any reason. To Soshiro, locking you down to him and pampering you up is the only solution to his obsession. Just your promise isn't enough, Soshiro is a man who fights a lot of kaiju himself, he prefers the steady and logical plan even if it is unethical, even if it means trapping you to him forever.

"Oh my wifey, my angel, that won't cut it. In fact, I wasn't even thinking about changing my mind. I love you and keep you here, end of the story. "

Soshiro purrs in a low voice, he easily pushes you down the bed and pins you. His hands move to your thigh and squeeze it a little, Soshiro is now moving your legs to wrap around his hip, eyes looking at your sad face as you realize he won't change his mind. Tears start forming on your cheeks and Soshiro swears he could forever get lost in you. Before you could say anything to reject him, Soshiro kissed you on the lip and then pushed his tongue inside.

"Aw, you're so cute, I love you, I'm never letting you go!" He claims boldly, as he moves his hand to remove your clothes, you struggle and try to attack him but it's Soshiro, he is like a different breed that easily overpowers you. "Soshiro- stop-!" you cried out only to be silent by another kiss, Soshiro got impatient and ripped the rest of your clothes in return. "You either could be a good girl and accept this or ... I could fuck you so hard you can't leave the bed for 3 days. I've waited so long for this, I promise, after this, I will pamper you with love. So do not struggle."

Soshiro coos as he kisses you again, his hand moving to your tit and playing with it, his other hand moving down to your wet cunt and fingering it. You tried to hide your moan but Soshiro's finger immediately found your g spot and attacked it making you moan into his ear. Just like sweet music to him, he enjoys making you moan more and more.

After your release, he kisses you.

"I hope you don't think this is enough."

[lanaslovelyletters]

Anakin is roommates with reader and has an addiction to smoking. Reader tries to help him with it and Anakin decided it’s not enough and wants something stronger. He thinks sex will help.

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐠

Roommate!Anakin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (general smut), swearing, mentions of substance abuse (nicotine)

Summary: You’ve never had a great relationship with your roommate… one night you get home late and see him smoking. You remind him that smoking kills and although you hate him, you want to help him… it goes to rather drastic measures.

Word count: 3.2K+

Author’s note: Where did you get this idea??? I love it. Also, there are psychological terms being used here— I’m a Polisci and not a psych student and will be using terms I learned when I took AP Psychology sorry lol. Also, read the prompt as if it should be on the shorter side? So I made it as short as I could, hope it's good enough<3 (Btw this is def not beta read. We die like Padme on the table)

You never really got along with your roommate. He blasted loud music and often came home at odd hours of the night. God, you hated the careless way he lived his life. Hell, you didn’t even know what he did for work. He always paid his part of the rent on time, so you kept him around. Besides, there weren’t many other offers and he was willing to pay half.

On a particular night, you came back from an evening shift at the local mental health clinic. The bag that was lazily slung over your shoulder was dropped to the ground as you walked into the living room. There he was. His lips held a cigarette between them, as he strummed his bass. It was loud and obnoxious.

“Okay, Slipknot, could you turn that down a little?” You let out a heavy sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. He rolled his eyes at you, and took a drag of his cigarette, blowing rings in your face. It caused you to cough and waft it away immediately before you took it out of his mouth and put it out in his ashtray.

“What the hell! That was my last one!” He threw his arms up in the air as the smoke subtly settled in the glass.

“This stuff is a slow death, y’know?” You said with a tone that screamed ‘as a matter of fact’. He was clearly pissed at your actions.

“—and? Does it look like I care?”

“Look, I get that we don’t see eye-to-eye on things, and we’d both rather not be living together… but the only reason I’m willing to live alone without you is if you move out. Not if you die on this fucking carpet.” You clicked your tongue and pointed at the scruffy rug beneath your feet.

“Why do you even care?” He raised an eyebrow and scoffed at you. Yeah… why did you care anyway? The question stumped you for a brief moment before you finally thought of the perfect response.

“Who else is going to pay half the rent? Besides… I don’t want to clean up a cancerous body in my house.” You were still standing there in front of him with arms covering your chest.

“Whatever… I’ll try.” Wait. It was that easy?

“Wait, are you serious?” You were a bit surprised to see him nodding along and agreeing.

“Yeah, I guess. My mother would hate to bury her own son… or whatever…” He trailed off as he stared at the worn cigarette bud in the ashtray.

“I knew you had some sense in there.” You joked as you poked his forehead before leaving for the kitchen to make yourself a late dinner. Anakin followed you like a lost puppy, as you pulled out some fruits and readied a blender. He watched as you cut up the fruits neatly before you added them to the blender.

“Hey so—” he didn’t get to finish, because the blender started going.

“Oh sorry about that. What were you saying?” You stopped the blender for a second.

“What could—” The noise dialed back up again,

“Oh, sorry,” you chuckled and poured the mixture into a bowl with some yoghurt.

“Very funny,” he said with a roll of his eyes as he leaned forward in the barstool he sat in,

“No, but really— how am I supposed to beat the cig cravings?”

“Via Pavlovian psychology, of course.” You gave him a curt smile.

“I’m not a dog.”

“Didn’t say you were. Look, the hypothalamus controls cravings… sex and food mainly. This means— you can try replacing it with chocolate. Maybe carrots?” You mentioned and took a bite of your yoghurt mix.

“Yawn. Don’t like the sound of that.” He rested his face against his palm.

“There’s a thing we do down at the clinic… for alcoholics mainly. We slip something disgusting or nauseating into their drink and they’ll associate drinking with this icky feeling… works like… most of the time… sorta…”  You shrugged and took another bite.

“Right… well there’s just the problem of— I’m not an alcoholic and you also said that only works some of the time,” he said. His elbow dug into the table as it supported his heavy head.

“Why do you smoke anyway?”

“Stress. Smoking calms me down after a long day.” His sigh was heavy and rough.

“Well then, something to destress whilst also eliminating your addiction… I really think something like chocolate would work.” By now, you’d finished your bowl and you put it aside to wash later.

“Yeah… whatever. I guess it’s better than nothing.” He got up from his stool and went straight into his room. Something told you he wouldn’t survive the first week without a cigarette…

A week had gone by fairly quickly and he hadn’t smoked since the night you lectured him. However, he ate chocolate in unreal masses. Even then, as he was sitting on the couch this afternoon, he had bought a pack of cigarettes. Referred to them as ‘emergency cigs’. Just in case. He stared at the packaging, letting his thumb trace over the ‘M’ in ‘Marlboro’. Oh, he was so tempted. Just one drag and he’d feel the relaxation settling in his shoulders and the sounds of birds chirping and children laughing in the streets. Just one won’t hurt. He peeled the plastic film off and opened the lid. He could already feel it against his lips. Just one—

“What the fuck, Anakin.” You came up from behind him and took the pack out of his hands. He groaned as you did so, desperately grasping for it.

“You were doing so great with the chocolate, why the hell did you buy these?!” You spat and hid them in your back pocket.

“The chocolates didn’t work well enough. I need more. I need something better.” He complained and sighed, leaning back on the couch.

“Fine. I’ll go out and buy you some nicotine patches. Just promise me you’ll kick this habit, okay?” You rolled your eyes and went outside to the garbage bins. You threw the brand new pack of cigarettes in there and wheeled it out front.

When you got back inside, Anakin had already left for his room. The two of you had an established set of rules, one of which was to not enter each other's rooms unwarranted. If any of the patients at the clinic taught you anything, it was that addiction was hard to beat. No matter what kind it was. As much as you despised having to live with him, he didn’t deserve to die an early death because of something he couldn’t control.

“Anakin?” You knocked on the door gently, but there was no response.

“Come on, man.” The knocking became a little more frantic, but there was still no answer. 

“Whatever.” You walked away and found your purse before heading back outside to uphold what you said you’d do earlier.

After you got back, you heard him watching something on the TV. It was a car commercial for a new Ford model.

“Catch.” You got in front of the screen and threw him the packs of nicotine patches you’d bought. He peered up at you with lazy eyes and slowly unpacked one. You hadn’t really taken note of it before, but he was fucking hot. His hair was messy and his body was chiselled. He was shirtless and only in a pair of very unforgiving sweatpants.

“Thanks…” he mumbled and stuck a patch on his chest.

“Feel better?”

“Don’t know yet.” You took a seat beside him and cast Netflix to the screen,

“Anything you wanna watch?”

“Nah… I’m good.” He seemed as if he was giving up. He was all sluggish from not having had a cigarette.

“Okay…” you turned off the TV to sit and soak in the uncomfortable silence. Nobody said a word for at least a few minutes before Anakin finally spoke up,

“It feels okay… just… doesn’t beat the real thing.” Your head turned to look at him as he said that. 

“I’ve tried everything, okay? I have tried to help you. For some reason, you always need more. What more could you possibly want?” You sighed and brought your knees to your chest.

“You said… the hyper something? was responsible for sex and food cravings, right?”

“The hypothalamus, yeah. That’s why we tried chocolate.” 

“That’s food… what about… sex?” He took a gander at you with those intoxicating tired and beat eyes.

“Like… jerking off? I mean, maybe?” You shrugged.

“No, sex,” he said, staring right at you.

“Oh… well… knock yourself out, I guess? You have a girlfriend?”

“What about you?” He moved closer, still staring deeply into your eyes. His velvety blue ones captured your very soul with just their existence.

“I’m… um… I don’t have a boyfriend…” you swallowed harshly as he leaned into your neck. His breath hit your ear,

“I’d say that’s pretty convenient, no?” He grinned, letting you feel the electricity surging through your spine. You shuddered before swallowing hard,

“What are you insinuating, Anakin?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I need something better than chocolate. Something better than nicotine patches. I can’t just sleep with random girls every day and hope I won’t get an STD. You are single, and I’m guessing you don’t have any weird illness.” His smirk was evident, even if he was practically buried in your neck.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Anakin.” You sighed but didn’t resist his antics.

“Mmm ‘don’t think so. I have a pretty great plan mapped out in my head.” He began to nibble away at your skin, several sighs escaped your lips as he did so,

“Anakin…”

“Yeah, that’s right. Say my name just like that.” He ravaged your neck now, littering it with bruises and marks. He pulled away briefly and got up from the couch, taking your hand in his as he helped you up. Almost immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. He pushed you up against the cold wall, clawing at your waist,

“Jump.” You did and he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He then carried you to his room, where he roughly threw you on the bed. Your breaths were heavy and he swallowed up every single one with his mouth. His tongue massaged yours as his hands massaged your clothed tits.

“Anakin—“

“Ani. Just Ani.” He captured your lips again. He loved those pretty little whimpers and gasps you’d make. It drove him wild. The way your hands were pulling at his hair as your lips desperately reached out for his… It was like a drug.

He pulled off his shirt and helped you get yours off too. You unclasped your bra, and he revelled in the sight. They were fucking perfect in his eyes. The embarrassment on your face as he stared only made him more hungry. He unbuckled his pants, pulled them down and discarded them somewhere in a corner. Shortly after, he got yours off too. Your panties were damp and when his two fingers went to investigate, he just had to point it out to you— essentially mocking you.

“Look who’s getting so worked up when I’ve barely even done anything?” He scoffed. The mocking only worked to turn you on even more, and the face you made gave it away almost immediately. Dumb mistake or was it served on a silver platter?

“Don’t tell me you get off on that,” he snickered and massaged your hips, one hand worked its way further down and ripped your panties off. 

“Hey, those were expensive…” you mumbled, but he didn’t care. The whole house could catch on fire and he wouldn’t give a fuck, because he was here with you. 

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He placed his thumb on your clit, slowly rubbing circles. You clenched the sheets with whatever little power you had left. Even with gestures as small as stroking your sopping cunt, you were at his disposal. Through and through.

As it got more intense, he added a finger, then two then went ahead and added a third— finger fucking you until you went cross-eyed, flicking as hard as he could. Your cries and moans were like music to him. Better than whatever garbage he played anyway.

“All for me? You spoil me, darling.” Fuck, that sent you toppling over the edge, clamping down eagerly on his fingers. With a final moan of his name, he felt your essence coat his fingers. After pulling them out, he licked and sucked them clean,

“You taste fucking heavenly. Better than the chocolate, that’s for sure.” He pulled you by the hips and kneaded them nicely, listening to how you panted like the needy little thing you were. One hand slowly travelled up to take a squeeze at your nipple before travelling back down. His hand grabbed the base of his cock as it rubbed against your sensitive folds. Fuck, he was good, but you were growing impatient. Surely bucking your hips would work?

“Fuck, you’re desperate, aren’t you?” He mocked you and snickered. It was embarrassing. Downright humiliating. Yet you relished in it. Oh, you needed him so bad your ovaries were going to explode.

“Come on… Anakin,” you mewled and arched your back.

“It’s Ani, darling.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead gently, still teasing your needy folds,

“Now, let me hear you again.”

“You’re embarrassing me…” you diverted your gaze and turned her head to the side. It was clear as day to see that your face was completely flushed.

“That’s the point,” he scoffed and grabbed your chin roughly,

“Come on, you can do it, can’t you? Be a good girl, tell me what you want.” Good girl. You folded almost immediately.

“Please… just do it.”

“Come on now, you can do better than that,” he snickered. His relentless teasing just egged you on even more.

“Please, Ani. Please fuck… fuck me,” you sighed with exceptional need, as you arched your back.

“Don’t think I heard that… a little louder?”

“Fuck me, Ani! Fucking take me!” Your desperation was clear in your tone and the way your brows were furrowed. You were pathetic to look at, and oh how he loved it.

“That’s my girl.” He leaned down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, as you felt him finally intrude your walls. He swallowed every moan you made and even drowned them with his tongue. His size was unthinkably big. There was one protruding vein in particular. The way your walls clamped around it, allowed you to feel it from its start to its end. He wasn’t completely uncivilized though. He allowed you to adjust to his size before moving even a millimetre. In the meantime, he sucked at your skin, twisted your nipples, and moulded your breasts. By now, there wasn’t one spot on your neck that wasn’t bruised. As these appeared one after the other, the pain from his cock invading your insides slowly mingled with pleasure.

“You can move…” He did exactly that. As if it were a command typed into a computer. He almost pulled all the way out, before slamming himself against your hips roughly and sighing out your name.

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he groaned as he wasted no time bringing your knees up against your chest, as he began to pound into you. His pace wasn’t too fast, but rough enough to earn those ethereal moans of yours.

“Fuck, scream for me. Scream my name. Let the whole block hear you,” he sighed, speeding up his pace, rutting against you like a heathen. It was fucking filthy. He watched as every inch of himself disappeared inside you, massacring your insides with no mercy. Every pant and every moan contributed to his head falling back in pleasure, as he drove his hips vigorously against yours.

“Ani!” His name left your lips repeatedly like a broken record. He was fucking you completely stupid. What day was it? What time was it? What was your own name? Your cock-drunk self had only one thing in mind: Anakin Skywalker.

“Fuck, I’m close!” You panted as he thrust with even greater speed and strength. He was relentless and unforgiving.

“That’s right. Cum for me. Cum on this cock, baby,” he groaned as you started clenching down on him. He was struggling to move with the tightness but didn’t give up that easily. His tip hit your cervix repeatedly and you felt like your guts were being rearranged.

Finally, you couldn’t handle it anymore and you tipped over the edge,

“Ani!” You fell limp, but Anakin was far from done. He pulled out, only to get next to you and pull you into his lap. His face was flushed. His eyes were hooded and his lips parted. His hands were kneading your hips,

“Ride me.” What? You had no means. You were limp and tired from the pounding you just got. Now he’s trying to go for another round? But oh, how you wanted it. You wanted so badly to feel him again. To feel a new angle of him. Quite literally speaking.

With whatever strength you could muster, you slowly sank down on him, taking him by each delicious inch. It was far too much for you though, your arms immediately gave out and you fell on top of him. That was no issue though; he helped you. He grabbed your hips tightly and thrust upwards. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with pleasure. You’d never been fucked that food before. Anakin let his face get buried in the soft mounds in front of him, as he arched your back for you. He was determined to make you finish for the third time in the evening, before finishing himself.

“Doing so good for me, baby, you’re doing such a good job.” He continued to drag your hips down upon his, but with one hand, he slowly let go and pressed it against your abdomen,

“You feel that? That’s my cock ruining you.” This man… your words were illegible by now. He removed his hand from your stomach and stretched the corner of your mouth with two of his fingers,

“You’re so pathetic like this. Where’s the smartass now?” He was right. He was fucking you into oblivion. You couldn’t even fully comprehend what he was saying anymore. You just whined and moaned at him. Just like the good girl, you were being for him. The overstimulation didn’t help. In fact, you were already getting close again. Your pussy was suffocating him and his drags were getting sloppier and sloppier— until he finally got you to release on top of him. He pulled you for a few more thrusts before pulling you off, having you fall backwards on the bed so that he could paint your stomach white.

The two of you both panted heavily as he fell back. It felt like you were going to pass out from the exhaustion.

“Beats the nicotine and cigarettes,” he sighed with a snicker. His eyes were fixated on the white ceiling above,

“So does tomorrow work too?”

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[vidavalor]

Ah, I remembered!

My question was: what are your thoughts on Crowley saying ‘I lost my best friend’ when he’s directly talking to Aziraphale’s non-corporate ghost in season 1? I always thought that line was strange. Is it that he can’t say ‘I lost you directly’ because others might be listening?

Hi @procrastiel ooh, nice! I *love* this scene so I'm super happy to share an opinion on it. Thank you. :)

Meta on the meanings behind what they call each other, what they intentionally *don't* call each other, how they actually said they loved each other and came up with a shorthand for it in 1941, and why they still don't just use those damn words already...

This goes everywhere, just FYI lol. I think I started with "no nightingales" and took a scenic route through 1600, 1941 and bits of S2 before coming back to the scene you asked about but I've been told it makes sense. Thanks for indulging me. :)

There are certain things that Crowley & Aziraphale feel that they can't call one another and can't say to one another directly. It's not just because they could be overheard if they're in public, though that's always a concern. They don't say them when they're alone, either.

It's because it hurts too much.

They've always tried to be optimistic about surviving Armageddon and being able to be together somehow but they're terrified that they won't and the odds, in their minds, aren't great, being that it's the whole will of God and all. As a result, they've lived their whole relationship expecting it to end in tragedy. They could both live for all of time, forced apart by Heaven and Hell. One of them could die and leave the other alone for eternity with nothing but the memory of the other. Meanwhile, in the now? It's not a great situation, either.

They can't really be together. They are together but not openly and they can't promise each other everything and they absolutely would if they could. Heaven and Hell could literally murder them if they got caught together so they have to be careful and keep it a secret. This means that even as the human world they live in opens up and starts to change to a point that queer humans like them are living more open lives with one another, Crowley and Aziraphale still cannot at this stage in the story.

So, it all becomes then an unspoken question of: what would make this easier? (As if it could ever really be made easier?) They don't wish to cause each other any additional pain. What would make it easier, they think, is if they don't say certain things so that what they can't have now or what might be lost to them in the future is and will be easier to bear.

This is delusional but they're doing it anyway because it gives them some measure of control over things they can't totally control.

They think it is easier to deal with not being able to be together if they just never say directly aloud what they are in terms that are surface-level undeniable. They speak in a coded language with one another and they say all the things in those words. But the doublespeak gives them some cover. Not to ever deny any of it but it softens the edges of it.

It's also because they live with the fact that they can't fully be together but they also both are fundamentally optimists and want to think that maybe, someday, they could find a way to have what they want to have with one another. That's also why they don't say the things fully. A part of them thinks that if they just don't right now and they wait until some time comes when it seems like they could have a life together, then they still get to have those moments. They're almost saving some of it for a life they hope they get to have but aren't sure if they will.

As a result, they are romantic as all fuck towards one another but they don't use words like romance or love aloud. If they do find they have to talk about it, they've shorthanded it in a way that they both understand because it's based on their past together. We already can see bits of it uncoded-- nightingales, dining at the Ritz-- but there are more than that that we can see if we deep dive a bit here so let's do that...

What's evident in the scene in 2.06 wherein Crowley decides to try to abandon the doublespeak is how deeply ingrained this way of speaking is for both of them. Also, how they don't abandon it when they're alone (the 1967 scene also illustrates this.) Crowley actually reverts back to their doublespeak *three sentences* into his proposal. He doesn't get much further than establishing that they've both been on this planet for a long time before he starts evoking coded messaging. He flicks his hands between them during the "you and me" line in a way that is echoing how Aziraphale gestured at him to mean "couple" in 1941. He winds up using coded language all over the place, peaking with the "no nightingales" moment that is actually coded language twice over because of "nightingales" being their word for romance and the asking Aziraphale to listen for birds evoking the Job minisode and the moment in the courtyard when they came up with the doublespeak.

Part of why Crowley can't get through the proposal without it is because he doesn't want to do it like this. Both the doublespeak and the idea of someday loosening it a bit mean things to them. They like their private language. Maggie and Nina are not exactly correct in assuming that they never say how they really feel. They're not wrong, either, but they're not fully right. Crowley and Aziraphale do talk. They just do it in a way that hurts them less because they can't bear to hurt each other because they're batshit crazy in love with each other. Maggie and Nina are correct in saying that Crowley and Aziraphale don't say how they truly feel if saying how you truly feel means using traditional language but they are wrong to say that they don't express these feelings at all because we have literally been watching them do so this entire time.

Notice how Crowley, even risking more with breaking their code in 2.06, still doesn't say some things. Amazing how he said all of that and he didn't say I love you, isn't it? He could have. He is, in what else he's saying, but the words they don't say are still there on the table. Aziraphale, later in the scene, almost does. He almost does because he is a mess over the situation and he wants to give Crowley something but then he doesn't and he spits out a self-aware I forgive you instead. That horrid, complicated version of it that he's used before and is code they both kind of hate. He's angry that this is all happening the way it's happening because it's taking some of the things they leave unsaid for hopeful, better days and it's saying them in a less than ideal moment.

That they both leave out that I love you, though, is the most I love you thing they could have possibly done.

They think it will be easier to not be free to be together and unafraid in the present-- and to maybe lose one another in the future, if they eventually have to-- if they pretend they're not a team or a group of the two of them and one way to do that is to never say words like the one we were all silently screaming at Crowley to say in that scene in 2.06 lol: "couple."

Are they a couple? Yes. Are they lovers? Yes. Are they partners, the term Nina used? Yes. Do they refer to their relationship using any of the terms in this paragraph? Oh God no...

That is why Crowley freaks out when Nina tries to get him to use uncoded, normal, human person language to help her understand what Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship is. She calls them partners and this is Crowley:

We're in agreement with Nina then when she responds with:

Nina isn't wrong here. She's just from a different world than Crowley. Nina lives in a world like ours in the year 2023 and she's puzzling Crowley and Aziraphale out through that filter. She doesn't know at this point that they are an angel and a demon who could be murdered by Heaven/Hell for being together. Her best rationale for why she's never seen Crowley and Aziraphale in her cafe together and didn't know until this week that the bookseller has a fella is her theory that Crowley is married and that he and Aziraphale are having an affair. To her, it explains why they've got chemistry for days but they're secretive. Crowley denies that-- defending Aziraphale's honor like the good old fashioned lover boy he is :)-- but the reason why he quickly denied that he and Aziraphale are partners, even if they absolutely are, is twofold. They are used to hiding it, it's dangerous for them to get caught out, and he probably feels uncomfortable with the idea of telling someone what they are exactly without talking with Aziraphale about it first-- that's all one reason.

The other reason is that he and Aziraphale don't use that word. It's not that it's an inaccurate one; it's probably the most accurate one, actually. They have a word, as we'll see, but partners isn't it because partners is the same thing as a couple and these are embargoed words to them. They don't use those phrases, even if that's what this is, just as they don't say I love you because if they don't call it love directly, they'll never lose that love, in their minds. If they don't know what it's like to hear the other say it, they don't ever have to bear the pain of never hearing it again. Better to hold those words back and only use them if they ever can somehow really be fully, openly together without fear. If Crowley doesn't use those words with Aziraphale, then he's not about to use them with the Coffee Shop Human he's only just recently met.

Along these same lines, they refrain from traditionally romantic terms of endearment on the surface. No my love, no darling, no sweetheart. Angel was there at the start and it stays because while it's always really angel (romantic), it's also angel (species/occupational), so it works well enough with their code. But its equivalent in reverse is Crowley. It's intimate, in the sense that only Crowley and Aziraphale know what it means. Only they were there in Job's courtyard. That's the coded layer of it-- it's Crowley's name to everyone else on the surface but it's that and a pet name to Aziraphale. It's why Aziraphale just calls him that constantly. Crowley changed his name to something only Aziraphale also really understands, making the use of it by Aziraphale then a way of expressing affection. When Nina asks them both separately about their relationship, both Crowley and Aziraphale actually revert to using what they call one another in an effort to explain it, even though they know that it doesn't translate fully in human terms without more words. Crowley says Aziraphale is an angel he knows; Aziraphale says:

Ironically? They are actually making it all *more* intimate by speaking in their own, private, coded language. They can't give each other everything but this they can, right? The language is their own, little world and not being able to explain their relationship to humans that well in 2023 doesn't mean they don't know what they mean to one another, which is more important. Since they can't make each other promises of forever that they can't keep and they can't have a life in the present that they'd choose for themselves, something they can do is use their little language to be sweet towards one another and they do. By having to work a little harder at conveying meaning through doublespeak, they wind up with something ironically actually at least as romantic as the traditional words, if not more so.

Anyone can call a lover darling and it can be lovely but can just anyone make my dear fellow romantic? Aziraphale can. This one was all him. He loved standing there in front of a dozen deadly human soldiers in the Kingdom of Wessex in 597 A.D., getting away with a pet name under the guise of stealing the "old sport"-style of male, moneyed, British speak and turning it romantic. This scene is great with the pet names because it opens with Aziraphale being a bit of a tease with "is that you under there, Crawley?" which he only does so that Crowley will roll his eyes and correct him. Aziraphale loves that Crowley changed his name to something coded between them based off of the moment they started their doublespeak. It was very romantic and this scene shows that Aziraphale sometimes, in earlier days, would call Crowley the old name just to get Crowley to correct him, which is all just a coded way of getting Crowley to say that, yes, he still feels the same way and yes, he still wants Aziraphale to call him that. This same scene, a few sentences later, then has Aziraphale's my DEAR fellow-- heavy emphasis on the 'dear'-- which is then answering Crowley's admission by just skipping any and all of Crowley's names entirely lol and calling The Black Knight my dear in front of a bunch of bloodthirsty soldiers and mercenaries.

The my [] fellow is perfect in their little language because of how it sounds all "I say, old chap!" on the surface but contains words that are romantic to them in their doublespeak. It's intentional that it's *not* "old chap" or "old sport" that they appropriated for their own purposes, it's my [] fellow. Fellow as in human, which is how they see their relationship (because it is) and that's something that comes up when Crowley uses a variant of this in 1941, which we'll get to in a second. My adds an intimate element to it of admitting that they are each other's in whatever ways they can be.

Aziraphale, like we said a moment ago, will sometimes sauce Crowley with the pet names a little and he does in S1 when he calls Anathema my dear when reassuring her in a scene in which he and Crowley are having a playful coded argument over Crowley's driving. Aziraphale miracles a bike rack onto the back of The Bentley and unnecessarily codes the word "bicycle" ("a perfectly normal velocipede"), smirking when Crowley grumbles "bicycle" at him. It's joking with him a bit at the lunacy of their little language *in* their little language. (Crowley playing back during this sequence is also calling Aziraphale angel (romantic) in front of Anathema, which was also a strategic decision to signal to her that he might look like a murder hornet but he's really just long-suffering gone on the sunshine-y one. Very we're just an old gay married couple, hen. We won't hurt you. in tone.) Anyway, Aziraphale using my dear with Anathema-- and his little smirks towards Crowley around it-- was really just underlining the way he uses my DEAR fellow with Crowley by using the same core phrase with a human in normal, uncoded, human conversation.

Other than this and the big one we're going to get to, there are really only two other things we've seen them use to refer to one another. In S1's Eleven Years Ago/2008, there's the moment when Crowley and Aziraphale have arrived back at the bookshop and Aziraphale is flirting with Crowley and says this, tongue firmly in cheek:

I mentioned this in another post about the wall slam in Tadfield but this is a very much intentionally blasphemous specific sexual request that is more at home in the sex meta post you all have me working on lol but for the purposes of this conversation, "foul fiend" is Bible for "wicked demon", so this is Aziraphale just kind of flirtily, jokingly calling Crowley a wicked demon in the one area in life where Crowley would probably happily own that description lol. It also has the other layer of humor in it in that Crowley calls Aziraphale angel (romantic) all the time, more often than he uses Aziraphale's actual name, and you'd think he wouldn't want to because Heaven hasn't exactly done right by Crowley and he's not especially fond of it. By calling Aziraphale angel with love behind the meaning of it, he's calling Aziraphale a good angel. He's saying that Aziraphale is what an angel is *supposed*to be, something that Aziraphale struggles with. It's both sweet and reassuring at the same time. As a result, Aziraphale has never just started calling Crowley "demon" for the same reasons-- he thinks if being a demon is being demonic and truly evil, then Crowley is a terrible demon because he's a lovely person. He is, however, positively wicked in bed, and Aziraphale likes to mock their whole situation with blasphemous Bible innuendo when requesting a little hellfire.

The other thing to briefly mention before we get into the friend discussion is a scene not long after the one we just talked about, when they're both smashed in the bookshop in S1. When he's drunk and attempting to say "bouillabaisse", Crowley gets distracted staring at Aziraphale for a moment and calls him baby before going back to his attempts at saying a word (in French, their romance language, per S2) and we get the "fish stew-- anyway!" segue back into the rest of the scene. Aziraphale was too drunk to notice enough to react so this opens up the question of whether or not the rules can get slightly more lax in bed. Does Crowley call Aziraphale baby in more intimate moments or does he just want to and it slipped out when he was drunk? It's a fairly normal phrase so it both would and would not be a surprise either way but it's still something of a question mark by the end of S2.

But there's one thing that they use that pertains to your question from the Discorporated!Aziraphale scene (told you we'd start to get here eventually lol) and that's how they use the word friend.

The rules of their language apply-- what is said on the surface is what one of the meanings of what they are saying is. It has to be what it sounds like on the surface to also be a coded thing. Aziraphale is Aziraphale's name and angel is what he is and Crowley is the name Crowley chose for himself. That angel and Crowley have hidden meanings-- that angel is given a tone that turns it from referring to Aziraphale by his species and more into angel (romantic); that Crowley is the name everyone calls Crowley now-- from angels to demons to humans alike-- but only Aziraphale knows that it's an in-joke referencing Crowley having to playact at being demonic and evil to hide his truer, sweeter nature... this is what makes these terms acceptable in their mutual language. My [] fellow is then also meeting the rules of the language because of the humor of taking a non-romantic phrase and using it for this romance of theirs that they don't refer to as one. It sounds like a perfect common thing for British men of any kind of relationship to use in conversation on the surface but it's romantic to them underneath.

So when they say friend, by their own rules of this language, it has to first contain the surface meaning. It has to be true on that level to reoccur in their language. So 'friend' does mean 'friend' in a friendship sense. They are friends. They are good friends-- best friends. Using the word is an admittance that they are each other's closest friends, which is both lovely in its own right and healthy in a romantic relationship. You want to be friends with your romantic partner. It doesn't mean you can't have other friends, of course, but if you're not friends with your partner, it's not really going to be a terribly satisfying relationship and since that is what they are-- the longest-running of long-term relationships lol-- that they are friends is important and a good thing. It's also a big deal for them to admit to it, since they are actually *supposed* to be mortal enemies. Their whole enemies-to-lovers thing never really got off the ground because they adored each other on sight but that they're friends despite the danger and the conflicts is a big thing in its own right.

But that's not the *only* meaning of friend to them, so let's look at how they evolved that bit of their language.

From what we've seen so far, it started in 1600 in The Globe Theatre scene with this:

In 1600, Burbage drops some human, queer coding into the secret language. Friend, the way Burbage is using it, is something that's actually implying lover. The surface word is technically related to friendship but the tone changes the meaning of friendship in this context to be that of a sexual relationship. Burbage's tone implies that he thinks Crowley and Aziraphale are fucking (which Crowley, laughing, silently agrees with is obvious, since he's been ignoring Burbage in favor of buzzing around Aziraphale and clearly trying to flirt his way into his bed).

Burbage is pissed that these two-- who, as we know, are basically the entire audience-- have been ignoring his monologue in favor of flirting with each other so when Aziraphale tries at a modicum of politeness (that somehow is even bitchier subtly than Burbage lol-- "I love all the... talking" is the best he can come up with), Burbage slings back by trying to drag Crowley into it by calling him Aziraphale's friend, with that loaded tone that makes the question really: 'and what does your lover think?'

Aziraphale gets the innuendo-- he's not exactly a novice at this in 1600-- but his immediate response is just to panic at the idea of anyone noticing him and Crowley together and, as Aziraphale does when stressed, he lies in increasingly absurd levels of untruth. (See also: the scene with Shax in The Bentley in S2, when he spirals up into ludicrously claiming to *not even know who Gabriel is* in an effort to say that he has nothing to do with his disappearance.)

Crowley is bemused by Aziraphale's increasingly desperate attempts to deny what is abundantly obvious to everyone around them and by Burbage's attempt to make a thing out of them to try to assuage his bruised ego. He chooses a little violence with this particularly amusing bit of go fuck yourself, you insecure little twerp:

Anyway lol what this scene then does is give us a moment in the story wherein we see them in a situation where friend (loaded) is defined as friend used euphemistically for lover and they both know it. This isn't coding they came up with but that they will wind up appropriating from the humans around them and repurposing for themselves, though they won't for awhile still to come yet.

What's worth noting here is that friend (loaded) in this human code is euphemistic for a pretty wide array of loaded friend relationships. There's no separation in it for friends with benefits versus someone you're seeing but aren't comfortable admitting that versus someone you've been with for awhile versus the person that is basically your secret spouse, etc.. All of these things are friend (loaded) in human code because the main purpose of it is to identify a pair of people who are involved as such without directly saying so on the surface, even if it's implied heavily via tone.

So what happens when Crowley and Aziraphale eventually decide to repurpose it for themselves?

They've got to be clear on what it means. They'll need to define it more specifically amongst themselves in order to use it.

For awhile still after 1600, they just aren't defining their relationship. They don't need friend (loaded) because they have things they call each other, right? They've got angel and Crowley and my dear fellow and the like. They're not usually around a lot of other humans together that are going to do what Burbage did and try to force a definition of it. (This changes, as we know, in the modern era-- especially S2-- but back in the day, it was true for them.) As a result, they've never had to define this and that's absolutely fucking perfect, as far as they're concerned.

Not defining this? Lovely. Yes. More of that. Makes the fact that they can't just call each other my love hurt a lot less, they're convinced. It helps now for sure and it'll make it less painful if they lose each other. They totally will not at all continue to spend thousands of years wondering what it would sound like if they said the things. They don't each have fourteen million fantasies about being able to use the traditional words and how they'd do it-- absolutely not lol. *Not* using the traditional words isn't at all making both the allure of those words-- and the ones they *do* use-- hotter and more romantic or anything. Not in the slightest...

So then we eventually get the Holy Water Arc, right, and in the middle of that scene, we see them run into a definition problem. In 1862, what actually causes them to fight isn't the holy water request. It's Aziraphale giving it all a word and that word being "fraternizing." First rule of We Don't Say It Club is that we don't say it... but it's also that if you're going to say a word that means the two of you and what you have, maybe don't use the one that Heaven would-- the one that means 'socializing with the enemy.' In Aziraphale's defense, they're both a mess and half-broken up in this scene and there's more going on it than we're going to get into here but the point is that suddenly not having a word caused big drama and caused the whole holy water conversation to de-evolve into an argument that broke them up for the eleven or so minutes that they can stay broken up.

But they still hadn't really resolved the whole holy water argument debacle by 1941, even if there is evidence in the show that they saw one another between 1862 and 1941, and the reason why they haven't is because holy water is irretrievably linked to defining what they are.

Crowley asking for it meant they had to consider what they are to one another and talk about it and 1862 proved their language didn't have words for that at the time. There is a level of panic to it because the request contains a certain level of acknowledgement about how they feel about each other. Aziraphale jumps onto holy water being a suicide pill not just because he's terribly worried that that's why a visibly anxious and depressed Crowley wants it but because if it's not what Crowley wants it for, then Crowley is saying he wants it for defense and whose defense, right? Not just his own, potentially. It's very much saying that he wants it to protect not just himself but Aziraphale from Hell and now we're talking about Crowley being willing to risk the wrath of Hell and maybe get himself killed trying to protect Aziraphale from harm and now, we're closer than ever to that I love you under the surface and they panic and they avoid it for 80 some odd years entirely until World War II...

...and then we arrive at The Blitz in 1941. We are now a scant one hundred years or so until 6,000 years being up since the creation of Earth and Armageddon was always going to happen in "*about* 6,000 years" so, for all they know, this is it... and Crowley in 1600 told you how he feels about sad endings:

So while rescuing Aziraphale is nothing new, Crowley turned up in 1941 with the intent of making a better ending, in case they had now found themselves at the start of the end of the world. They were almost out of time either way and he didn't want it all to end without them having said the things but also they didn't know *for sure* if this was it... and they still can't be together if it isn't... so Crowley can't just show up and be like so, angel, I've been meaning to tell you in the actual words for the last six millennia-- I'm madly in love with you. He has to find a way to do it in their language of doublespeak. And so, here's Crowley using friend (loaded) in front of the Nazis in 1941:

By using my friend in the church, Crowley is then actually euphemistically calling Aziraphale my lover by calling back to The Globe Theatre and stealing the human coded term that Burbage used. Crowley does not care what the Nazis think. The comment isn't for them; it's for Aziraphale. So is letting Aziraphale find out about his first name, which is also calling back to The Globe Theatre. ("Anthony", pronounced "Antony", as in Shakespeare's 'Antony and Cleopatra', the play in which Shakespeare put the love poetry he stole that Crowley wrote for Aziraphale.) So is referencing the unguarded holy water in the church, which is then trying to talk about it a little by connecting it to this romantic grand gesture here and acknowledging why they panicked over it all those years ago. It's all saying I'm in love with you in their little language in the best way Crowley can in this moment.

But what did we say about friend (loaded)? We said they have to define it, right?

Because it can mean different things. Crowley isn't wrong to use it and Aziraphale understands it the way he does in the church. He understands it to euphemistically refer to them as lovers, which they are. It's just that all of this combined with Crowley saving the books then makes Aziraphale realize that it's one thing to say my friend (loaded) but if you say it and then there's holy water referencing and then there's more of the Shakespeare scene in there with Anthony and the little "you don't like it?" pout and then there's the entered a church for you and... you put all of that together with little demonic miracle of my own and saving the books...

...and Aziraphale realizes that Crowley is taking the thing that they always were-- my friend (loaded)-- and using it in the middle of saying that he's in love with him.

Crowley is trying to give it a word.

The word he's using meets all their language rules. It's from a moment in their past. It has a true surface meaning and a loaded undertone and subtext for days. He's not asking Aziraphale to use it. He's not saying the actual thing, as that would be breaking their rules, but he is absolutely saying it in their language.

He's not asking Aziraphale for it in return. He's just saying that this could all be over soon and he needed Aziraphale to know and in some ways, it's an apology of sorts. He's sorry they fought. He's sorry they lost years over it. He's sorry for the pain of it. He was in love, you see. The sex while pining got to be a lot. All of this got to be a lot. You get it now right, Aziraphale? Yes? Good. Lift home...

The phrase my friend (loaded) takes on a different meaning after Crowley saves the books and after their conversation inside and outside The Bentley. That's the point of the two "shut up"s-- the one from Part 1 and the one right after it where Part 2 picks up. Why have this conversation twice? Because it's actually two different conversations.

The first one outside The Bentley is Aziraphale in a love stupor, just telling Crowley that saving the books was a nice thing and Crowley responding with a half-effort "shut up" while he cleans his glasses. It's the only scene in the entire series to date in which Crowley is cleaning his glasses and he is in this moment to give Aziraphale his eyes for a moment. But The Blitz, Part 2 shows us this again... and then gives us the scene in The Bentley with what starts out sounding like the same conversation on the surface to start. It is, though, not the same conversation *under* the surface...

There's a reason why Aziraphale says a second time that saving the books was a nice thing. They're now in The Bentley, which is a little more private, and Aziraphale can't let this drop because he needs to know for sure what Crowley is saying with this and if Crowley's sure he wants to be saying what it seems like he's saying. This is basically Aziraphale's version of Crowley's "are you sure? are you sure you're sure?" in the magic shop later on. Aziraphale knows Crowley just said he's in love with him but Aziraphale also knows *Crowley*, right?

He's been with Crowley for a long time. He knows him very well. He knows that Crowley is anxious and emotional and hopelessly romantic and that the world is literally ending around them as they're driving through bombs raining down over London and part of Aziraphale is thinking of the fact that even in this seemingly apocalyptic Armageddon that could be starting here, Crowley was coded in what he just did. He left the traditional words on the table. He said the things in their language and that is, in some ways, even more romantic, but he's left them the things they leave out of hope for a better future, just in case. There's a caution to that and while Aziraphale appreciates the caution, he also can sense that Crowley was nervous about doing this. He is a little concerned that Crowley's going to have said he loved him and then regret it and pull away from him again and Aziraphale can't do the first bit of the Holy Water Arc all over again. He's really wanting to start to move into a lighter era here lol. He also really wants to be sure that he's understanding what Crowley is saying entirely.

And he wants to hear it again.

If Crowley isn't going to shut down on him entirely now, Aziraphale very much liked all of this and would like more of it but he first has to be sure he knows for sure what Crowley means and he can't just ask directly or he's both saying the things they leave unsaid and he'd be undoing Crowley's effort so he has to find a way to ask without directly asking and in such a way that an already sensitive about all of this Crowley won't take offense or be embarrassed and that gives them a way back from this if Crowley shows signs that he feels like he might have gone too far.

So Aziraphale offers Crowley an out.

He tells him again that it was such a nice thing Crowley did for him. He means this and it was a nice thing but this is also saying that he heard that I'm in love with you that Crowley was saying by saving his books and that he liked hearing it, that it was nice, that it was okay that Crowley did that, but that it's also okay if he feels like he made a mistake with it.

Crowley's response to again being told that it was nice is to again tell Aziraphale to "shut up", this one a bit more emphatically than he did outside The Bentley a few moments before. It's unclear to what extent this language, at this time, is sexualized, but by 2019/S1, this back and forth of Aziraphale calling Crowley "nice" and Crowley responding with some bite is a self-parodic sex game that they're playing in Tadfield.

Much of what happens in Tadfield is playing on other parts of their story-- think about the paintball bit with the gun but now with knowledge of The Bullet Catch in The Blitz, Part 2-- and there is a big difference in the ways Aziraphale calls Crowley "nice" in 1941 and in 2019. In Tadfield in 2019, Aziraphale is literally smirking in a way that implies that this is a little game they play and he's saying a series of things that he knows will prompt this intentionally outsized reaction from Crowley, who is playing it with him. The game is likely tied *to* this bit of 1941 that we see in The Blitz, Part 2 in S2, in that it's referencing it a bit (if very obviously going in a different direction lol), but also because Aziraphale's phrasing and tone in 1941 is not smirking. It's softer and quieter and not designed, through their language, to prompt a certain response out of Crowley. It's not yet a sex game, it's still a kind of conversation they've had in the past that will serve as inspiration for said sex game in the future.

While it's a bit unclear if a version of this already existed in 1941 or if 1941 is part of the evolution to what it becomes by 2019, there's a tone to it in The Bentley in 1941 that says that, at the least, Crowley suspects that Aziraphale is trying to lure him towards sex by calling him nice and that's reinforced by the next thing Aziraphale says, which continues it, but is also doing so to provide Crowley with an out to his confession of love, in case Crowley wants to take it.

Aziraphale's out comes in the form of offering him sex, which is absolutely what this is:

Oh, gee, Aziraphale, whatever could you do in this moment here in The Bentley? You aren't at all telling him you'd do literally anything he says he wants right now, right here, in his damn car, are you?

But while Aziraphale would so absolutely yes because lawd, 1941 Crowley is sldjwkejele... look at what he's *really* saying as well...

What he's saying here is we can pretend you just did all of that for sex, if you want to. I know you didn't and you know you didn't but we are good at pretending and if you're silently having an anxiety attack behind your glasses over there, we don't have do this...

Crowley's response?

The quiet "forget it, will you?"

Meaning: I don't want to take it back. I'm in love with you. I wanted to say it. I meant to say it. Everything might be going to go pear-shaped and I wanted to have said it somehow. I don't need you to say it. I don't know what I expected but I also maybe kinda didn't want the response to be 'aww, you're sweet... do you want a blowjob?' so maybe let's just drop this. We're going to never speak of this again now. Moving onto spreading the demon drink...

Crowley turns down Aziraphale's offer to make it about sex and, in doing so, Crowley says indisputably that it's about love. If he had taken up Aziraphale's offer in that moment, then it would have been agreeing to pretend that he's never said he's in love with Aziraphale and to instead pretend that the romantic-looking things were all an effort to get into Aziraphale's pants. When he turns down sex, Aziraphale smiles softly because, to him, *this* is then really the moment that Crowley said he loves him.

Aziraphale knows for sure now what Crowley was saying and my friend (loaded) now has a definition between them that means the whole deal. Since Crowley said the thing that meant lovers euphemistically as part of saying he's in love with him, then my friend (loaded) is now forever part of the night during The Blitz in 1941 when Crowley said he was in love with him, which means that they can't use any version of friend (loaded) with each other without that being part of it. Friend (loaded) always meant lovers (sexual partners) but now it also means lovers (romantic partners) as well. It's not that they just suddenly became romantic partners because it's been a romance all along but now they're acknowledging it in a way they can't go back from and they do so by giving what they are to one another a word in their secret language.

Aziraphale then wants to return the feeling. Crowley is saying that he doesn't need him to by telling him to forget it about it and wanting to move on from it but Aziraphale can't accept that. Crowley might be right-- this could be it-- and like Aziraphale's going to let Crowley potentially soon go to his grave without telling him he's not alone in how he feels. That's not happening. However you think the events happened to give Aziraphale the opportunity to rescue Crowley from the wrath of Mrs. H-- divine fate, Aziraphale miracling the bottles broken, The Bentley shipping it and helping Aziraphale, all of the above, etc..-- he gets the chance not ten minutes later and he takes it... and, of course, what does he use?

My good friend (loaded af lol).

They've already just redefined my friend (loaded) by this point, so to turn around and use it is to tell Crowley I feel the same way. I love you, too. This is Crowley's change in expression in reaction in that above gif. It's one thing when Aziraphale volunteers to help-- that is sweet and Crowley's all eyebrows raised in intrigued surprise. His whole expression then slips from that into being stunned when he hears my good friend and he realizes that Aziraphale is now grand gesturing *him*. He's realizing that the bit in the car really was just an offer of an out, not just that plus Aziraphale saying he was uncomfortable with what Crowley had said and needing it to stay a lot more hidden beneath a cover of sex. It was Aziraphale needing to be sure he understood and needing to be sure that Crowley was sure he wanted to make this change in how they are but now that he's sure on those things, Aziraphale is actually all in for it.

Worth mentioning that my good friend (loaded) is a mashup of my friend and my dear fellow, which makes it extra sweet. Just as Crowley started this by calling back to The Globe Theatre by using my friend (loaded), Aziraphale is calling back to the my dear fellow rhythm of what he's called Crowley for centuries. It says I love you and every 'my dear fellow' was not just fondness but an 'I love you', if you didn't already know. I've loved you forever.

It's also quite literally calling Crowley 'good', which is not something that he really believes about himself but is something Aziraphale believes about him. His good friend, as in close friend, but also his good friend, as in good person. He also does nothing to discourage Mrs. H's inevitable understanding that he and Crowley are a couple. He gestures between them to indicate it. He uses my good friend in such a way that it's just the same thing queer humans of the time would have said to someone low-risk (a theatre person) in London during WW2. It's completely inverted from his response to Burbage in a different theatre in 1600, in the moment this whole friend thing became a thing for them, which is also intentional. It's telling Crowley he understood all the things Crowley was saying in the church and he feels them, too.

Then, there's this, once they're back the bookshop:

Here, we're acknowledging what friends means now by pausing and emphasizing it. "That's what friends are for" is not a phrase that would require the pause and the tone on friends if friendship was all "friends" meant to them. It's not now and this is acknowledging that.

Note Crowley's little lip twitch/almost-sad-smile at what Aziraphale is saying. It's agreement. It's assent. This is them confirming that they understand what the other is saying and giving this new word a home in their language.

This is then what they call each other now when they need to talk about it and it's my friend on the surface and it's my love underneath.

There's a sadness to it. How nice it would be to just be able to say it... It's also a moment of realizing that they aren't sure they can use this word all the time. It's good to have a word and a shared understanding of what it means and they have no desire to take back these confessions of love here but while it's lovely to have said this now, it's also a bit heartbreaking.

Aziraphale's heartbreak, his little Crowley move of putting on his (transparent lol) glasses, his brave smile, and then how quickly they both transition from this conversation into The West End, The West End and I'm a lonely G.I... and The farthing *has vanished*! It shows you how accustomed they are to burying the pain under trying to live in the moment for one another.

A few moments after this, Aziraphale will be showing Crowley some of his human magic tricks in preparation for performing on stage and when they get to the point where Aziraphale is telling Crowley about Goldstone's Magic Shop, he then tells him that it's not for him because it's "for professional conjurers only."

This is somewhat unintentional metaphor on Aziraphale's part that Crowley then acknowledges and turns into coded language in his response. Aziraphale's love of human magic is metaphorical for his love of humanity and living in a way as to indulge his humanity in a way that angels have been taught not to do. The reason why Aziraphale's love of magic is this metaphor and not, say, his love of books or music or food, is because all of the other things that Aziraphale likes about the human experiences can be dismissed by him as relating to understanding the human experience *so as to be a better angel.* He's really not a student of humanity just to learn how to better guide them. He admits to Adam in front of Crowley in S1 that he thinks that humans are the ones who get it when he tells him that he hoped Adam would be good and worried he'd be evil but that he's something better than either of those-- he's human incarnate. Aziraphale can justify most of his indulgences as being related to learning human ways to relate to them to help them-- food, books (his home and his book collection can be justified as necessary cover for his angelic embassy), music, etc.... but the love of human magic?

Aziraphale just loves it. It's for him. It's his hobby. He thinks it's a little selfish and probably a lot unbecoming of an angel. He'd completely just want this for a job and he's not supposed to want a job other than to be an angel, which is supposed to be the bestest job imaginable lol. What kind of angel wants a silly human job? What kind of angel with actual magical powers is obsessed with human magic? Aziraphale is. He's endlessly fascinated. It makes him happy. It brings him joy. It's the part of living as a human that he's done in such a way that it's just for him and in such a way that it conflicts a bit with his role as an angel. The only other way Aziraphale loves like this, in this human way? The only other thing he studies at to be a better human over being a better angel?

Crowley.

So when Aziraphale says that he can't go to Goldstone's because it's "for professional conjurers only", Crowley knows that what Aziraphale is really saying is that the shop is "for actual humans only". He knows Aziraphale is admitting that he's sometimes insecure about his ability to be human because of how his humanity is tied to being an angel. Crowley knows that they're talking about Aziraphale and his human magic love on one level but that they're also talking about them and their relationship on another level. This is Aziraphale saying that he loves human magic with a passion but he's not sure he's as good as it as he could be or as he wants to be because maybe he doesn't know everything about being a human in the way that the "professional conjurers"-- humans-- know... and everything we just said he's unsure about with relation to human magic is also how he feels sometimes about loving Crowley.

This conversation is happening in an overlapping way with their friend confessions and Crowley hears that Aziraphale is saying in there that he loves Crowley with a passion but he's not always sure that he's studied enough, that he knows enough, about being human to be what Crowley deserves. He would love to go to this magic shop but he's afraid that it's not meant for him. He struggles, as Crowley already knows, with how he's not supposed to want it but oh he wants and he can't help but love magic and he can't help but love Crowley... all of which prompts Crowley to reassure him, using a now-familiar bit of their language:

"You, my Nefertiti-fooling fellow, are about to perform on the West End stage. If that doesn't make you a 'professional conjurer'... I don't know what does."

Meaning:

You, my human-passing man, are so good at this that you fooled the Ancient Egyptian Queen. You're about to perform your human magic on stage-- to make yourself vulnerable in a way that scares humans. You are always willing to take risks like that and try something new and learn more about being human and that makes you human. It's human to not totally know how to be human, I think. You're doing all of this tonight because you love me. It doesn't matter if you're a good magician or not. This love of ours is human and you're very good at it. You love me very well. If loving me doesn't make you a 'professional conjurer'... I don't know what does.

Crowley uses my [] fellow to emphasize my friend (loaded) by using the term of endearment that Aziraphale himself started that has human connotations to make the point that their love makes them human and to tell Aziraphale that he's very good at their love.

Aziraphale, understandably melting over that:

And then? They just keep using my friend. For decades. Through S2.

What makes it work for so long is the fact that it's human-coded in origin so if they run into a situation where they need to refer to one another like this, they can use it and it doesn't get a lot of questions. After the partners scene with Nina, Crowley uses my friend without thinking twice about it, telling her that she'll be safe in the bookshop because "my friend would never let anything happen to you." Nina already gets that they're friend (loaded) and she doesn't know what using friend means to them because only they know about 1941 but it's a phrase that they can use with the outside world if they need to but that mostly stays between them because only they know that, in their language, my friend = my love.

So when Crowley says I lost my best friend in the Discorporated!Aziraphale scene in S1, he means that he lost his best friend but he *also* really means I lost the love of my life.

The first thing my best friend means is just the actual, uncoded definition-- what the words really mean as they are. Aziraphale is Crowley's best friend. Whatever else they are to one another, they've always been that. The idea that he'd have to go through the end of the world and whatever came after without his best friend devastated him. In a lot of ways, it's sweeter than saying anything else, even if they weren't in a public space, because it's saying that what he'd miss the most is just having his partner in crime in life. The other layer of it is the coded layer. Since they are a couple that uses my friend in an euphemistic way for my love, then Crowley's my best friend in 2019 is the same thing as Aziraphale's my good friend was in 1941. It is my best friend on the surface and it is that but it's also my love beneath it.

This scene is also then the same thing in meaning:

And by S1's present of 2019, they're at a point of using it in an argument, which provides them the means to talk in a way they didn't have in 1862. Yeah, they have their dramatic little breakup spats but this is actually a marked improvement over where they were before the holy water mess. So now watch this bit of the bandstand again here below for the friend (loaded)...

Remember that Aziraphale lies increasing bits of absurdity when stressed and that Crowley knows that. He dismisses what Aziraphale says with that "you doooo" when Aziraphale tries the *utterly ridiculous* "I don't even like you" lol. They're both panicked about the end of the world here in Ineffable Divorce: Round One and Crowley's trying to get them to run away again, which is a terrible idea, but in the process of suggesting it, Crowley is calling them friends (now eternally loaded, as we just spent this meta proving lol) and...

...*how long* have they been friends does he say?

So, how long have they been in love, per their language, per Crowley in the bandstand scene?

Six thousand years.

Since the start.

Vavoom. Sorted. :)

[agaypanic]

Hey :) I was wondering if since it’s a leap year you would maybe write a oneshot or blurb or smth with James Maguire x reader (maybe like Quinn!reader from your series??) where she proposes on the 29th of February bc it’s a tradition that comes from Ireland?? I just think it would be so cute bc he just totally wouldn’t see it coming and I’ve never seen anyone do it in a fic before

Leap Day (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

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Summary: You, the girls, and James are now well into your twenties. Life is perfect, except for one little thing that’s been on your mind. After taking with your friends about it, you figure you should take matters into your own hands.

A/N: won’t put it on my series masterlist, but this could be seen as an epilogue of sorts to the fella series (even tho it’s not finished yet lol) but obvi it can be read as its own thing. Also im american so sorry for any terminology and such i get wrong. reader, james, and the girls are obvi aged up

***

If you had told your younger self that you and your friends ended up staying in Derry after finishing school, she would’ve thought you lost your mind. All she thought about was graduating and leaving home, traveling the world, and escaping her pain-in-the-ass sister Erin and somewhat crazy family.

But if she saw the life you had now, she’d probably understand. Because you had everything you truly wanted.

You had a nice little job close to your flat where you managed a bookstore. It was a quaint shop that became a frequent stop for some of the local teenagers. Erin also stopped by every now and then to boast about what she had already read.

When you weren’t working, you were with your friends. You were a bit more tame than you were in your adolescence, but that all usually went out the window when Michelle got a drink or two in her. Which happened often.

But the best part of your day was when you’d go home to see your boyfriend of many years, the love of your life, James Maguire.

“So, what’s goin’ on with you and him, anyway?” Michelle asked as she messily poured everyone a glass of wine. Every now and then, you and the girls got together for a night to get drunk and catch each other up on anything that happened since the last time you’d gotten together. For some reason, you and James were a bit of a hot topic tonight.

“What d’ya mean, Michelle? You know what’s going on with us.” You laughed, taking your wine glass from her.

“I mean, when are the two of you getting hitched? Has he even popped the question to ya?”

“Believe me, Michelle, you’d all be the first to know if we got engaged.” You said a bit glumly, downing your drink and waving your glass around for Michelle’s attention to fill it again.

“He still hasn’t asked you?” Clare asked with an incredulous look. From the start, she had been a big supporter of your and James’ relationship. If it was up to her, you’d probably have a few kids and a house in the countryside by now. “You’ve been going out since we were sixteen! And you just turned twenty-five a few months ago, didn’t you?”

“Yup.” You responded, popping the ‘p.’ “Nine years and no ring.” You held your bare hand up to prove your point. “But I don’t mind too much. As long as we’re together, that’s really what matters.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Clare cooed.

“It’s shit.” Michelle countered.

“Michelle’s right, Y/n,” Erin said, grabbing a crisp from the bowl in the middle of the table. “You’ve been waiting for James to propose since we finished at Our Lady Immaculate; admit it.”

“Have not!” You laughed at the absurdity of your sister’s sentence, but the looks everyone gave you made it die down. “Okay, maybe a little. But not seriously! It was just like a dream, you know? Like Erin thinking she’ll get published or Granda thinking Ma will actually divorce Daddy.” 

Everyone giggled, except for Erin, who was grumbling about your little jab.

“Be serious, Y/n!” Clare laughed, patting your hand. “You’ve been waiting for him to ask for a long while.”

You looked down at your glass, swirling the wine around with a sigh. 

“Maybe a bit.” You answered quietly. It hadn’t really nagged at you too much until recently. After all, you had been together for almost a decade, and everyone else around you seemed to be getting engaged or married. You loved James; truly, you did. But it felt like you were missing out a little. “But I’m fine with waiting.”

“The question is, Y/n, how long are you gonna have to wait until he actually does it?” Erin asked, leaning forward to stare at you. You shrugged, not really knowing the answer and not really wanting to respond.

“You might as well ask him, Y/n!” Your cousin Orla said with a grin. She was always an optimist. “He might just be scared you’ll say no!”

“You know, now that you say it, that’s probably why he hasn’t asked yet,” Michelle said, taking a sip from her wine glass that had been filled more graciously than anyone else’s. “After all, James is a pussy.”

“Don’t call my fella a pussy, Michelle!” You reprimanded, yet you still laughed along with everyone else.

“I can call my cousin what I want. And the fact is that he’s a pussy!”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea, really,” Clare said when everyone’s chuckles had died down. She gasped. “This is a leap year! You could ask him on the twenty-ninth!”

“That’s next week, Clare.” You said a bit nervously. Of course, you’d marry James in a heartbeat. But the thought of proposing, especially so soon, made you a bit sick to the stomach. Now you realize why James probably hasn’t asked you yet.

“It’s either next week or another four years, Y/n,” Michelle said with a teasing smile.

You gulped, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. As you thought about it, you had to admit that it wasn’t really a bad idea. Sure, you had less than an ideal amount of time to plan everything out. But you could probably get something small but nice together.

“Okay… Who’s going ring shopping with me?” The girls squealed at your question, getting up to surround you in a drunken group hug.

***

It was the twenty-ninth, and you were a nervous wreck. The ring weighed heavy in your pocket as you paced around your dining room. Dinner was sitting waiting on the table, and you were playing your little speech of love over and over in your head. All you needed was James, who should be home soon. But as the minutes ticked by, you wished the clock would freeze so you could have more time to prepare for this.

“Darling, I’m home!” James called out as he opened the door, and you realized you were out of time. You skipped out to the front hall to greet your boyfriend.

“Hi, Jamie.” You cooed, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek before stepping away so he could hang up his coat. 

“Sorry I’m a bit late, needed to finish some things at the office.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, hun.” You waved your hands, both to dismiss his unneeded apology and to get rid of some nervous energy.

James gave you a quick peck before walking off to the bedroom to change, leaving you to overthink a bit more. You wanted tonight to be perfect. James deserved nothing less than that.

To pass the time, you grabbed a candle and placed it in the middle of the small table, finding a lighter to light the wick.

“It’s so nice to be home,” James murmured as he walked over to you, arms slinking around you to pull you close to his chest. He buried his face into your neck, leaving a kiss or two before taking a deep breath. “Dinner smells good.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” You turned your head to kiss his cheek before pulling away from him. The two of you sat down and started putting food on your plates.

You talked about anything and everything, James leading most of the conversation, which you were grateful for. You felt that if you had to talk too much, you’d either stutter too much or end up spoiling your surprise. James held your hand most of the time, playing with your fingers absentmindedly as he talked about something amusing that happened at work.

Eventually, your plates were clear and your cups were empty. James was finishing up a story about something a few of his lads had done while they were all watching some sports game you didn’t know much about. You knew that now was your time.

“Jamie?” He hummed, perking up at the sound of his name. 

“Yes, love?”

“I love you.” You didn’t really know how else to start.

“I love you, too, N/n,” James said, smiling as he squeezed your hand.

You took a deep breath, about to give the speech that you’d been preparing in your head.

“I’ve known that you were the one for me since we were fifth years. Probably since I first saw you at the bus stop. That’s probably crazy, knowing something like that so early and so young… But it’s true.” You laughed, thumb sweeping over his knuckles. “These have been the best years of my life, being with you. And it might be a bit selfish of me, but I want more of them.”

“Y/n…” James whispered, tilting his head. “What are you saying, darling?”

“We have a bit of a tradition here.” You say, wiggling your hand from James’ grasp and standing up. “Ladies’ Privilege, Bachelor’s Day, whatever you fancy calling it. Where on Leap Day, girls can propose to their fella.” You stuck your hand in your pocket, fiddling with the ring. “And seeing how it’s Leap Day now, and I have a ring and all, I guess there’s just one last thing to ask.”

James’ expression turned even more stunned when you got down on one knee, now holding the silver band up in front of him. 

“Will you marry me, Jamie?”

In the few seconds of silence after that question, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. He looked at you stunned, and you desperately wanted to know what was going through his mind. How long would you have to kneel on the ground for him to give you an answer?

But then he smiled brightly, and all your worry slipped away.

“Of course, I’ll marry you!” James slipped out of his chair to join you on the floor and grabbed your face, giving you a long and deep kiss. You gripped his curls in your free hand, the other resting on his shoulder. When he pulled away, he let out an airy laugh. “I never thought I’d be the one being proposed to.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” You giggled with him as you slipped the band onto his ring finger. “Happy Leap Day.”

“Happy Leap Day, indeed,” James said before kissing you again.

[tomorrows-inferno]

AU time… yay

anywho :] Nameless Land, Nameless People is a Honkai: Star Rail AU that I made because I like Ratio’s character a little bit and figured it would be a fun idea to put him in less than great situations.

The AU “starts” (or maybe not?) when Herta decides to call up Ratio for an assignment that involves the Trailblazer — Stelle. They both need to work to reach a now abandoned research facility (that seems… oddly familiar…) to retrieve important documents and a strange “curio” buried in the facility’s depths after a tragic accident that led to the abandonment in the first place.

Alternatively, this AU is focused on Ratio and lore that I wish could be expanded but I’m also playing rather loosely with it. Unfortunately, the assignment goes horribly wrong and Ratio is now stuck in a time loop — each ‘run’ lasting 1 to 5 days.

We say ‘1’ because Ratio can ‘die’ abruptly in a run. How? Because of Mendicium. [Shown in image above and below!]

This is Mendicium. If you recall, it is a Parasitic Stellaron. Mendicium is using Stelle’s body after that little assignment goes very, very badly. This event (Mendicium ‘killing’ Stelle / using her body) could be what triggers the time loop in Ratio’s mind. But why? Ratio uses the seemingly endless time he has to try and figure things out — that is, before he gets ‘killed’ again. We say ‘killed’ because there is a revival/rebirth system in the time loop as follows:

Ratio’s “death” is not considered a true death. He only finds himself revived/reborn into the next run where it seems rather hopeless — because everything plays out the exact same with almost no chance of alteration. Herta’s call, the facility assignment, Stelle’s ‘death’, Mendicium’s ‘kill’ and all over again. Most of these questions will be answered (I hope.) alongside the truth of some of these events, while maintaining some form of coherence. But it’s fun!!! They get into… Bad but somehow entertaining shenanigans!!!

They’re fun. (No they’re not. What happened to his eye?)

But anyway! That’s all. For now. I think. More art on the way — silly art or loreposts. Both! Fair warning I just made this AU for the lols but I still want to put effort into the plot/story here. A lot is planned to, well, happen.

Questions? Ask!

[hwaslayer]

project: make you love me (jyh) | ten.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.2k (sorry i know i said 5.5k.. had to chop off a bit and move it onto the next chapter lol)

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, flashback scene, yuyu and yeosang find themselves at a house party ayeee 🤪, yeosang assuming the role of wingman, alcohol consumption, intoxication, a sprinkle of seonghwa, dancing/throwing ass back, cute funny drunk yunho lol, making out, dry humping, sleepovers 😙

one night - sire | mi gente - j balvin | dj turn it up - yellow claw

Yunho looks at himself in the mirror, letting out a deep sigh. He opted for a simple outfit— one that could keep him cool in a packed house and not be too extra for a party. But, the longer he stares at it, the more he feels like he could do better. Or, maybe, you might not even notice him or think much of him in this outfit. 

How does he do this?

Honestly, he's not even sure what constitutes a 'house party' outfit.

"Nice." Yeosang nods as he stands near Yunho's doorway.

"It's too plain, isn't it?" Yunho eyes Yeosang's outfit. He's in a loose, black sleeveless top, a bomber jacket, jeans and boots.

"No, why? It's fine." It's Yeosang's turn to eye Yunho in his fit, and he honestly thinks it's perfect for tonight's events. Yunho opted for black jeans, a white Stussy shirt, and his converse. He has a silver bracelet dangling around his wrist, cologne sitting at the corner of his dresser. Yeosang doesn't smell it on him yet, but he thinks it's because Yunho is questioning whether it's too much or not. "You look good."

"Should I add some cologne? A light jacket?"

"Add the cologne." Yeosang laughs. "But, not the jacket. I'm literally only going in this because I'm just there for a few drinks and to be a wingman. Then, I'll see myself out." Yunho smiles and nods.

"Hm." Yunho hums. "I'm just going there for a bit, too."

"Mm, but you're going there to hang out with Y/N and grab her for a few dances. I refuse to leave until you get a moment with her."

"I don't know. What if she doesn't wanna, though? I'm not gonna force her."

"Seriously? With all the little walks you guys take and your study sessions?" Yeosang smirks. "Right." He looks at his phone. "Anyway, we're a bit late. Wanna take a shot or two and walk over?" Yunho shrugs.

"Sure." Yunho takes one last look at himself before spraying a bit of cologne and meeting Yeosang in the kitchen. Yunho doesn't like to drink much because he hates the feeling, especially the next morning. But tonight, he was feeling a little more bold— like he could use the extra liquid courage to be less nervous around you.

Not that he needed it, but it was a party. He'd like to be of some fun for you.

By the time Yunho heads out to the kitchen, Yeosang already has 2 red cups ready to go. He tilts the cup to the side, peeking at how much alcohol was inside—

Yeosang must have wanted him to die.

"This isn't a shot or two. This is half the bottle." Yeosang laughs and shakes his head.

"Not even. I swear dude, you'll be fine. We can pace ourselves when we get there. Plus who knows, they might've taken all the alcohol already."

"It's only been 30 minutes since the party started." 

"A lot can happen in 30 minutes." Yeosang picks up his cup and raises it in the air. "Cheers?" Yunho shrugs and taps his cup against his, internally dying at how much alcohol is in his cup.

"Cheers." Yunho swallows the first half in a big gulp before cracking open the coke can. He takes a sip before gulping down the last bit and making a face at Yeosang. "Don't ever do that again."

"You're welcome." Yeosang laughs. "Let's head out and get your girl." Yunho shakes his head, quickly cleaning the kitchen before shutting off the lights and following Yeosang out. Luckily, the party is at a house right behind the complex, so Yeosang and Yunho aren't having to walk too far. As they approach the community, Yunho can already hear the music blasting from down the street, followed by a few echoes of loud yells and cheers. Hearing the noise makes him feel a bit anxious, and he's starting to regret his decision based off of it alone.

But, he commits. He knows he'll see you soon, and things will feel a bit better.

It does help knowing Yeosang joined to make him feel more comfortable.

Approaching the house, Yunho can see that there are people packed on the first floor of the house and into the backyard. He follows Yeosang in, squeezing his way past all the drunk people to head to the kitchen.

"Here, gonna make you a drink to sip on." Yeosang says, pointing at the counter where all the liquor and soda are laid out. Yunho continues to follow along, even if his eyes are searching high and low for you. He hasn't seen you yet, and he's hoping he does soon.

He really just wants to find you and be with you.

♣︎ FLASHBACK

Yunho kicks the rocks beneath his shoes, hands dug deep into his pockets as he patiently waits at the end of the path. He's anxious, and a bit nervous; but overall, happy to finally see you. His head shoots up the moment he hears a door click close, footsteps jogging down the steps.

"Yunho!" You softly squeal, giggling as you run straight into his arms. He wraps you into a bear hug, slightly swinging you around before placing you back down onto your feet.

"Hey cutie."

"I missed you! You're actually here."

"I told you I came home early." You chuckle before gently squeezing his bicep.

"I know, but it's nice to know it's real." You smile. "What have you been up to?"

"Not much. How was your drive over?"

"I fell asleep for most of it. We stopped at a pitstop to grab more grub, but otherwise, it was okay." He nods.

"Club was fun last night?"

"Sooo much fun! I met so many new friends, and the DJ was so good! It was such a good time. I wish you had been there." 

"I wish I was too. But, next time. Yeah?" You nod.

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'm happy you had fun, though. You deserved it, all of it." You link your arm around his, absentmindedly following him to his car. You don't realize it until he's opening the car door, gesturing at you to wait until he grabs a few things from the seat. "I have something for you."

"What is it?" Your eyes sparkle as you stand and wait.

"You said you needed to get new lavender for your room, right?" You remember texting him that a few days ago, and you can't help but smile at Yunho's attention to detail.

"Are you serious?" You slightly pout when he hands you the small bouquet of lavender, plus a smaller bag.

"I-I also found those persimmons you like so much." He scratches at the nape of his neck, nervously watching you eye the gifts. Your expression is a tad bit unreadable, and Yunho can't really tell if he's crossed a line or if he's okay. But, to his surprise, you set the things down onto the trunk of the car and jump back into his arms.

"Yunho, you really are the best. Thank you for all of this."

"Of course. I guess it's my odd way of saying congrats?" You giggle, allowing him to press a small kiss against your temple. 

♣︎ END

But, unluckily for you, you're having to deal with a drunk Seonghwa who doesn't seem to get the point. You had been avoiding him since you arrived, sticking close to a few other friends in the backyard while watching an intense game of beer pong taking place. The moment you stepped away to go find your bestfriends, Seonghwa comes stumbling out of nowhere— ziplining straight to you once he spots you.

"Babygirl, can we talk?" You can smell the liquor on him, his hand wrapping gently around your wrist. "I've missed you. I've been waiting for you all night. Just give me a few mins—"

"Not now. I'm trying to find my friends."

"Your friends?"

"Seonghwa." You warn him because you know exactly where this is going.

"You sure it isn't Yunho? I hope it isn't." Seonghwa laughs at the possibility even though your expression confirms the answer.

"And if it is, then what? At the end of the day, it isn't your business." Seonghwa scoffs.

"Are you serious? I don't get you. I don't get it. I've been turning everyone down for you, and you don't even realize—"

"Okay, then go do whatever the fuck you want Seonghwa! No one asked you to do that, I told you this was over. Stop keeping tabs on me." You rip your hand from his grip even as he continues to call for you, walking away from the hallway into the crowded, but hyped living room. Every single person in the room was dancing; either with friends or with another person. You catch a glimpse of Yunho standing against the wall with Mingi and Yeosang, flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. He sips on his drink, eyes meeting yours across the room. You're in this cute cargo mini skirt, a cropped tee and Nike dunks.

Goddamn, you look good.

And if it wasn't for all this liquid courage, he wouldn't be thinking about grabbing you for a dance— just for funsies. Bonus that he gets you, all of you, to himself tonight.

You didn't even expect Yunho to show up at this point, being that he's said time and time again that he wasn't into parties. But, you're glad he is. Mingi and Yeosang must have done a lot of convincing, which they did. Though, the other part of it was the fact that he knew you'd be here and that might give him another opportunity to get even closer to you.

"Hey, what the fuck was that about?" Chaery pulls you out of your little staring contest when she comes out of the kitchen and gently squeezes your arm.

"Just Seonghwa being Seonghwa, what else?" You roll your eyes, still appalled at Seonghwa's audacity to try and gatekeep you for the night even though you're well aware there isn't one truthful bone in his body. You ended this, and you had no plans on falling back into his trap tonight. 

Not on the agenda.

"Dude, forget him, let's just have fun." Soobin says, pointing at your group of friends in the corner of the room. "Everyone else is over there." You follow them over, eyes glancing over to Yunho again. He's still conversing with Mingi and Yeosang, though his eyes follow yours mid-convo. It's almost like he's waiting for you, or waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his move. You're hoping he does, but you also have no problem making the first move.

Yunho is so, so attractive.

You would be lying if you said your feelings for Yunho weren't growing by the second.

You meet up with your friends in the living room; Hyunjin, Jongho, Taehyun, Minnie and Yeonjun already dancing along to the song and showing off their moves. You, Seungmin, Soobin and Chaery join along, before Yeonjun is passing his flask around so that your group can take more shots together. At this point, you're tipsy and definitely feeling yourself more as the alcohol continues to run through your veins.

Feeling yourself, feeling bold, feeling good despite Seonghwa trying to ruin your night and be all possessive— who the fuck was he to act that way? He didn't want it in the first place, so you'll give him a little taste of his own medicine.

You can't help but turn over your shoulder to see Yunho bouncing along to the beat while Mingi is scoping the room. You can tell he's trying to get Yunho to explore and find himself a cutie to dance with, but he responds with a laugh and a shake of his head. His eyes meet yours [yet again for the umpteenth time tonight] and the tension suddenly increases tenfold through his look alone. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he's giving you a small smirk. 

You want him.

"Why don't you dance with him instead of eyeing him the entire night?" Chaery says in your ear, making you drunkily giggle.

"I'm too shy."

"Shut up, since when? You look so good tonight, fuck Seonghwa. I refuse to let him ruin your night. Get up on Jeong Yunho, now." She quickly glances at him. "He clearly wants you too." Suddenly, the lights in the living room shut off, obnoxious, colorful disco lights filling different corners of the room. It's clear that the intention behind shutting off the lights was to get everyone to the highest level of hoe tonight, and it's working—

Hyunjin is dancing with Minnie, Soobin and Yeonjun are dancing with some other girls in your class.

Even Seungmin is pulling Chaery to the middle for a fun, platonic dance. 

"Go for it, dude." Yeosang says to Yunho, gently nudging his arm. "She'll be out there any second."

"Y/N come out here!" Chaery yells, pulling you deeper into the dance floor with Seungmin. You know she's plotting on getting you closer to Yunho because the two of them are only an arms-length away from where Yeosang, Yunho and Mingi stand. You laugh and dance around with your bestfriends anyway, until you feel a hand gently grab at your wrist and pull you from the crowd. You turn to see Yunho smiling, pulling you flush to his body before grabbing your hips. Mingi is focused on his dance with one of the seniors, leaning back against the wall as she works her ass against him, while Yeosang is pursing his lips together to prevent himself from smiling at you and Yunho dancing together.

And Seonghwa? He shouldn't give a fuck, but he does. Especially when he sits on the random bar stool and catches you having fun with Yunho [out of all fucking people], his girl for the night whining for his attention in between his legs. The worst part is that Yunho can fucking dance.

The sly motherfucker has gigs and can keep up with your rhythm. Since when?

It looks so natural for the two of you to be all up on each other like this, and it makes Seonghwa so fucking annoyed, slightly sick to his stomach even. How the hell was he gonna lose his main chick over Jeong Yunho? 

But, you could care less about what he has to think. Right now, all you can think about is Yunho giving your hips a squeeze, fingers hooked into the belt loops of your skirt as he dances against you and works with your rhythm. What a turn on. 

After a couple of songs, it's transitioning into yet another song and you're worked the fuck out. You turn to face him, giggling as he keeps you close and rests his hands around your hips. 

"Thanks for the dance." You tell him in his ear, hand resting on the nape of his neck.

"Are you staying for awhile?" He asks, pulling back slightly just to read your expression.

"I was, but I don't mind leaving early." He looks at you again, a small smile on the corner of his lips.

"Wanna get outta here then? I'm kinda over it." You chuckle and nod.

"Let me just tell Chaery." You look over at Yeosang, who is still observing the party with another friend of his. "What about Yeosang?" Yeosang hears you and shakes his head with a smile on his face, deciding he'll be home later just to give you and Yunho some alone time. 

"No, it's alright. I'm gonna stay and catch up with more people." He lies. You nod, hand laced with Yunho's as you navigate the crowd and gently pull Chaery by the arm. She waves happily at Yunho before she's dipping forward to hear what you have to say.

"I'm gonna head out early." Her eyes widen before she squeals.

"Oh my god! Yes! Be safe, okay?" She points at Yunho. "You better take care of her or I'm chopping your shit off, for real." He winces.

"Yeah, don't worry. I got her."

"See you later!" 

"Or not, don't come home! That's fine, too!" Seungmin drunkly adds, making you roll your eyes as you both continue to through the crowd and out of the house.

"Thank god." He says the moment you two step out of the door and get hit with the fresh, evening air. You chuckle as you make your way out of the front yard and out onto the street, finally feeling free from suffering at a crowded, stuffy frat party.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here." You look down at your hands still clasped together. As the cold hits, you're realizing you're still quite drunk and Yunho is too. He's much more talkative and giggly tonight. You like it.

"I wasn't either." He chuckles. "But Yeo and Mingi.."

"They did a lot to convince you, it seems." He shrugs.

"That. And, maybe the fact that I knew you were coming?" You shoot him a look before smiling down at the ground.

"You know you don't have to use the party as an excuse to hang out with me more, right?" 

"I don't know, you're a really pretty girl who has a really busy schedule. Thought it was a good way to sneak myself in a bit more outside of school and friends." You snort and nod.

"Yunho, I like your company. We can always hang out. You don't have to subject yourself to this mess."

"Eh, I'd say it was still worth it." You giggle.

"So, where are we going?"

"Down the street and back to my place?" He asks nervously. "If that's okay with you, of course. There's really no intention behind it, and I know you wanted to see my place, so I just—"

"I'd like that." He smiles. God, the fucking boldness spewing out of him right now— who is he?

"Okay." The walk is back up the hill, super quick and nothing too treacherous. Though, it seems like it lasts for 5 seconds when you're holding Yunho's hand and listening to him talk about everything he's observed at the party. He's making you laugh so much that you don't even remember the last time you had a stomach ache from someone telling you their party experiences. Everything is just so natural with Yunho, you can't help but accept the fact that your feelings for him do grow every second you're near him.

"Oh my god, I think I got a workout from that walk alone." He chuckles as he unlocks his door and steps aside to let you in.

"Good, at least our workout is covered for the weekend." You look around at the apartment. It's bare, but it's clean. They have a couch with a coffee table in the living room and a good sized tv. The kitchen is spotless, with a few containers of protein and Shaker bottles lying around the counter [thanks to Yeosang] and some bread and fruits off to the side.

"Wow, it's cozy and clean." Yunho chuckles.

"We try to keep it clean." He looks at you with glossy, drunk-dazed eyes. "And guess what? It's really hard." You snort.

"I beg to differ. You and Yeosang do a good job." He pops into the fridge and flashes a water bottle.

"Well, that's always good to hear." He laughs a bit. "Need some water?"

"Please." He smiles as he hands you the bottle in his hand. You both take a good gulp or two before Yunho starts to slowly walk down the hallway. 

"Quick tour - Yeosang's room, my room." He smiles. "End of tour." You laugh.

"Thank you for that." 

"Do you wanna hang out in my room or out here? It's up to you, I don't mind either way. Just want you to be comfortable." He says. You point to his door and he simply nods. He swings the door open to his room and it almost surprises you how neat it is inside. You're only peering in from the hallway though, carefully taking steps into his room before you're fully in his space, eyes wandering from wall to wall. He has a drawer against one wall, with a few figurines lining the top surface. He has a corner desk with two monitors, probably to help with his gaming [you assume; Seungmin and Soobin have been trying to do this setup for ages], and a good sized bed that has its navy sheets neatly fixed. His room isn't entirely huge, so it's obvious he's tried to utilize his space as much as possible.

"I feel like I'm intruding in your space, though." You say as you continue to eye his room. Yunho comes behind you, watching as you observe the surroundings.

"Trust me, you're not." He says softly from behind. You feel his presence close in on you from behind, chest almost grazing your back. "You can relax." He chuckles a bit, hoping it'll help you feel a little better. And he thinks it works, especially when you start to walk towards his drawer and carefully run your hand across his figurines and special edition funko pops. They were mostly given to him throughout the years by his older cousins. The gifts will always be special to him, especially now that they've all moved to various places around the world and he rarely ever sees them anymore. 

"Do you collect these?" Your eyes are still on the figurines while Yunho follows behind. He shakes his head as if you can see him.

"Not really, my cousins gifted me those."

"Sweet." You glance at him with a small smile. Then, your attention darts to the random pile of photos sitting at the corner. Your hands almost get ahead of themselves, beginning to reach over to grab them when you pause— "Pictures?" You look at him with that doe-eyed look again and he melts a bit.

"I found them while cleaning out a few things. It's mostly with my cousins and—"

"Baby Yunho with mom?!" You raise up a picture, one that has baby Yunho in a hat, striped t-shirt and shorts. He's sitting on the lap of who you presume is his mother, throwing up a thumbs up with a huge, hearty smile. "You are so cute, look at you!" He blushes, but he takes the photo from your hand and snags the others before you can see anything else embarrassing. 

"Uh, yeah. That's mom. I need to get a frame for these, but until then—"

"Let me see the others!" You pout, trying to reach for the others in his hand. He raises it, laughing at your effort when he's damn near as tall as the Salesforce Tower in SF. It's so adorable, and so, so endearing that you want to see this so badly. "Yunho, hey." You whine. "That's not fair. I wanna see baby Yunho with his cousins."

"You will, once I frame them and make it look more presentable." You give him an unsure look and he smiles. "Promise." You huff and scrunch your nose. "You're really, really cute, you know that?"

"If you think this is gonna make me forget about it, it's not gonna work Jeong Yunho." You look up at him as he closes the distance between you two.

"Oh, it's not?" He teases, his face dipping down towards you in an angle that'll make it so easy for him to just kiss you, indulge in you, right at this moment.

"Mm, no." You subtly bite onto your bottom lip, but Yunho catches it. There's a small pause, some silence sitting in the air while Yunho's eyes are darting to your features— the mole near your bottom eye lid, long, thick lashes, plump lips.

Yeah, he wants to kiss you.

"Y/N?" He breaks the silence first.

"Mhm?" His lips only a mere inches away from yours at this point and it's obvious where this is going. God, you can't wait.

"Is it okay if I..?" You nod quietly as Yunho leans in to meet your lips. At first, the kiss is soft, sweet. He only pulls back to quickly read your expression, but it doesn't last for long when you're pulling him by the shirt for another kiss. This time, it's deeper. There's hunger, there's need, there's want. Yunho quickly drops the photos back on top of the drawer before cupping your cheeks. His tongue lines your bottom lip before inserting it in, a small whimper leaving your mouth when his tongue starts to dance around with yours. You push him back so that he plops onto his bed, boldly climbing onto his lap without a care in the world as you continue to messily make out with him. The quick moment you release your lips from his, he's chasing after your bottom lip— gently sucking onto it and biting it before pulling back. One hand is at your waist, fingers starting to hook onto the belt loop of your skirt when he feels you subtly grind against him. He lets out a breath while the other hand gently squeezes at your thigh before coming up to cup your cheek. He kisses you on the lips once more before he trails down your jaw, feeling your hips working against him as you let out small moans. 

Your skirt is barely doing justice to cover you at this point, and it's driving Yunho crazy.

But, that's what brings him back to reality. Though it's hard as fuck to fully come back down from cloud nine, he doesn't wanna do this the wrong way. He wants to take you out first, wants to treat you properly and have your first time [if ever] naturally occur— not a drip of intoxication. You were worth much more than that, and he was not trying to be another Park Seonghwa who solely treated you like an object, a 'prized' possession; another body he could add to his list.

"Wait, wait." He whispers near your ear after prying his lips off of your jaw. 

"What's wrong?" You look at him with some sort of fear, or worry. Yunho immediately shakes his head in response because there's nothing wrong with you; he just wants to do right by you.

"As much as I really, really wanna do this right now, I wanna do things right with you." His eyes land on yours as his thumb continues to caress your cheek. "Especially don't wanna be intoxicated if it ever gets to that point. Is that okay?" You give him a soft smile and nod.

"More than okay." 

"Okay." He comes in for another sweet, gentle kiss against your lips— one where he stays there for a bit before slowly pulling back. "I don't wanna mess this up."

"You won't, Yunho. You couldn't." You brush the hair out of his face before lazily wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rest at your waist while he looks at you, eyes darting across every inch of your face.

God, you are so beautiful. So sweet, and so beautiful. 

Seonghwa is the biggest dumbass he has ever come across. But to each their own!

"Do you.. wanna make some pb&j sandwiches? Watch a movie while we lay down? Play a board game?" You giggle.

"Actually, a pb&j sandwich followed by a movie while laying down sounds amazing right now." 

"Okay, let's do it." He taps your waist. 

"Wait. Do you have clothes I can borrow and change into? Cause I definitely don't wanna lay down in this." He chuckles and walks to his drawer after the both of you get back on your feet. He hands you some shorts and a longsleeve, telling you to use whatever in the bathroom that you might need to freshen up. "Thank you." You plant a chaste kiss to his cheek before freshening up in his bathroom and changing into his clothes. You smile to yourself, smelling the scent of his detergent on the pieces of material, feeling how soft it is against your skin. 

When you walk out, Yunho is already toasting some bread while grabbing the peanut butter and jelly. You giggle as you place your clothes down in his room, slipping yourself onto the counter near him while he goes to work.

"Yunho, the peanut butter to jelly ratio is off." 

"No, it's not." He holds up the bread slice with a thin layer of jelly.

"It needs more jelly. You can still see parts of the bread cause there's not enough jelly." He laughs and nods.

"Okay, cutie. I'm on it." He adjusts the ratio until you're happily clapping and take the sandwich from him. You bite into it with so much satisfaction that Yunho can't help but be pleased with himself. You're happy. Here— with him and this sandwich.

"Hey." Yeosang suddenly walks through the door and slightly furrows his brows at the two of you laughing over pb&j sandwiches. You're sitting on the counter with Yunho now slotted in between your legs.

"Oh, hey! How was the rest of the party?" He shrugs and tosses his keys aside.

"Alright, I guess. You guys didn't miss out on much."

"Are Chaery and them still there?" He nods.

"Yeah, but they were getting ready to head out too." 

"Want a pb&j sandwich?" Yeosang laughs.

"I'm good. Thanks." He spots Yunho's clothes on you and prevents himself from smirking a bit too big. He doesn't know you too well enough to tease, plus he feels like he can't just flat out assume, so he keeps it to himself and bids you two farewell instead. "I'm gonna shower in a bit and head to bed. Fucking beat."

"Goodnight!" You and Yunho call out before he disappears into his room. You and Yunho giggle at each other as you continue to satisfy your drunchies before getting yourselves ready for the movie. The both of you settle on a true crime documentary for god knows why [definitely not shits and giggles], but as long as Yunho was around, you felt comforted enough. He hands you an extra toothbrush from his stash, reassuring you that he wasn't pressuring you to stay unless you really wanted to.

Which, you did.

It was late. You were comfortable in his clothes. Of course you'd fall asleep mid-documentary. Plus, Yunho wasn't gonna let you leave this late even if you lived across the lot. 

Once you and Yunho get more comfortable and clean up in the kitchen, he shuts off the lights and closes his door— leaving you to stand awkwardly in his room as you wait for him. He chuckles a bit and grabs his laptop off of his desk before nodding towards his bed.

"You can lay down, you know?" 

"It's your bed. You should pick which side you want first." 

"I'll hang out on the end so that the monsters don't come and get you in the middle of the night." You laugh and shake your head, slipping yourself near the wall after Yunho pulls his sheets back. He settles in right after, allowing you to snuggle against him as he sets the laptop on his tummy. "Are you okay?"

"You're comfy." He snorts a bit as the movie starts to play.

"Definitely gonna fall asleep."

"Am not." You whine.

"Probably 20 mins tops."

And Yunho's right, except it barely hits 20 minutes before he hears the soft snores against his chest. He smiles down at you before shutting off his laptop, setting it on the floor near his bed before adjusting his position so that the two of you were snuggled deeply under his covers.

He could get used to this, and he doesn't know if it's more of a good or bad thing right now.

But he doesn't ponder for long— setting a small kiss on the top of your head before shutting his eyes and letting the drowsiness take over.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunholuvrsblog @mingigiggles @jaerisdiction

[melrosing]

When do you think Jaime will collect the Widow’s Wail from KL?

I think there are two possibilities??

Loras has the sword - this has been theorised since it’s mentioned in Cersei’s POV that Tommen gifts Loras a jewelled sword when he departs KL in AFFC. I honestly don’t think Cersei would notice Tommen handing over Widow’s Wail, so makes sense it goes unremarked upon. Anyway, if that’s the case, it just means the sword has to make his way to Jaime somehow - and given the potential ambiguity around Loras’ condition plus future within the plot, plus the fact that really GRRM could orchestrate any manner of things to get the sword from Loras to Jaime (like how he gets Needle back to Arya), this doesn’t seem impossible at all.

Jaime goes to KL, is or is not the valonqar, acquires the sword whilst there and heads North. This seems more likely but also makes the whole matter of Jaime and Cersei’s endings murkier?? If Jaime is not the valonqar, that means he goes to KL, perhaps reckons with Cersei and then walks away, acquires the sword and fucks off North. If he is the valonqar, he kills Cersei and fucks off North. I’ve never been a great believer in the whole jc ‘born together/die together’ ending, I think it’s a belief exists to be contradicted and also the fact that the valonqar prophecy exists at all more or less precludes it (like they cannot die together if Cersei is already dead, and I don’t see Jaime’s story heading towards suicide at all - he’s been in that place already and moved onwards). And what’s more, I can’t imagine Cersei dying before the torch of KL (rather, I think she will certainly have a hand in that). So therefore - what the fuck is going on here lol. Widow’s Wail has a role to play in the Long Night, I think everyone feels clear on that, and I’ve talked before about how I feel it is practically confirmed by GRRM himself that Jaime is getting that sword. So what I mean to say is what does Jaime acquiring the sword in KL suggest about the timing of other surrounding events, and what’s more what does it suggest about the endings of Jaime and Cersei themselves?? Jaime getting his hands on Widow’s Wail is a relatively small plot point but the logistics of it have broad implications. So whilst I do tend to think that the Loras theory is a little bit of a reach, Jaime acquiring it in KL kind if asks more questions than it answers….

[edelfie]

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! this means war.

while you are off doing your own thing, being controversial and whatnot, a certain pest in your side seems to be buzzing about. unfortunately for her though, she’ll have to try a little harder to keep up with you.

or, lia loses her mind a little

POST CREDITS! —

As far as Lia is concerned, you are nothing more than an obstacle in her way. Sure, a persistently irritating obstacle, but a measly one nonetheless. Whatever game you were trying to get at wouldn't work on her.

She really shouldn't be wasting her energy on you anyways. She already has everything she wants: the best job in the world, all the money a girl could dream of, and her fiancé. Keyword: hers. Perhaps she is a bit territorial, but isn't it natural for any girl to be with their things?

Following their heated argument though, she isn't so certain where she stands with the man in question. She knew her words were hurtful the moment her fingers flung across the screen, and she won't fawn and play innocent knowing that was exactly why she sent them in the first place. It's just...so hard to communicate her emotions to Atsumu when he takes everything she says or does as a joke.

It's funny. Everyone in her life has expressed their own feelings about the constant push and pull of their relationship. Years of infrequent dating and uncertain feelings culminating into a very real, very permanent engagement was not how she envisioned their relationship ending. Because while Lia thinks she loves Atsumu, she knows he's difficult to be with.

When they were younger and had just started dated, she gave him the benefit of the doubt more often than not. That he was simply "like that", constantly riding on the brink and not giving a damn about what others thought about him. And to a degree, she found him aspirational for that and even wanted to replicate him in that sense.

That was, until, it started affecting her work. She began losing brand deals and sponsorships because the boy she was dating couldn't behave himself for the two hours he was in public. It was ridiculous! At times, it felt like she wasn't his girlfriend, but his mother, his publicist, and his manager all in one. And maybe that does make her selfish for not going to his games, but when does she get to be selfish in their relationship?

She feels the most empowered, the most authentic, the most selfish every time she calls it off. She gets to enjoy her freedom, then watch as Atsumu comes crawling back to her. Sometimes he outright says he'll change (he doesn't usually), or he'll demand that she "match his effort" (she won't). Maybe it's antithetical to some, but for Lia it just makes sense.

So despite dating Atsumu Miya being equivalent to forcing a square into a circle, Lia would rather die than let anyone take him away from her.

NOTES! —

Sorry for the smaller chapter today! I just couldn’t think of a way to fluff it up that wouldn’t already be included in future chapters. If I do get any ideas though, I’ll be sure to update this and post a notif. Also, Lia isn't meant to be like a token "mean girl", she's very flawed and human and that's a result of her environment. She is still bitchy of course, but not evil. Anyways, today’s fundraiser is to help the Liberty Lancers Marching Band purchase new uniforms! While it may seem miniscule compared to other "issues", as someone who's partner marches and has come to love band themselves, having new uniforms would mean the world for these students. You can click here to donate or read more on their story.

In other news, I am back from my (tiny) break! Though I’ll admit, I didn’t use that time wisely to plan ahead for my next releases LOL. I had fun though! Starting on Friday evening, I made a new group of friends! I signed up to be in a buddy-program with international students, and I found out my buddy that day (if that makes sense). I’m so lucky because we have so much in common! My buddy and I (plus another buddy pair we’re friends with) went to a football game on Saturday, but I only really cared for the pretzels and marching band LOL. The opposing team’s band was so good and I was literally mesmerized by their majorette dancers.

And then I presented my speech in class on Tuesday, which wasn’t as scary as I thought but I’m still glad it’s over LMAO. After that I went to the gym to work out for about 30 mins, before heading home to go on a date with my partner. We walked around downtown and went bowling, to which he absolutely wiped the floor with me I fear. And then today in one of my classes we had a rock, paper, scissors tournament (gotta love college LOL) and…I WON! We did it a few times but I just kept winning or getting very close, so I was named the RPS champion. Anyways, here’s a picture of me and my buddy down below ^-^

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© all rights reserved—edelfie (2024) // do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on other sites without permission

[maybege]

What If - Part 4

Summary: Mandalore approached and you cannot help but feel like something is about to go terribly wrong.  

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.2k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), (semi-)public sex, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, knotting, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, Angst with a capital A, fluffy fluf

As we say in German “Was lange wärht, wird endlich gut” which is what I am using as my excuse for why this took so long. The truth is: depression is a bitch, real life is a bitch and creativity and time for writing are like the same side of two magnets that do not want to even go near each other. Anyway, we made it!!!

There are a few people I gotta thank for this. First and foremost the iconic, the brilliant @mostly-megan who not only suffers through all the random AU ideas I have (and there are a LOT of them) but also brainstorms with me. The Ragnar Scene and also a very (very!) lovely scene towards the end of this part would not exist without her and for that, I am very grateful. Then, of course, the ever-present, ever-lurking genius that is the Boba Tea Anon who is in the Paz trenches right there with me and encourages me in everything I do (even if it is just a – I promise one day I will do a Lord Huron Paz piece!). Also, a very special shout out to Neyo (@galacticgraffiti) who gave the Mando kids their names, suffers through The Horn Knee with me and is always there to cheer me on. And then, of course, all you Paz girlies (gn) who make me feel like a sane person while I ramble about a faceless man who appeared for a total of 23 minutes (if that) and is – canonically – dead anyway. You make sharing my writing worthwhile in the first place and I will be forever grateful for getting to share my writing with you.

And with that – on to the last part (and the new canon for me lol). Please let me know what you thought in a comment or a reblog!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

There was a certain impatience to him you had not expected at the last meal. When the announcement came that you were approaching Mandalore, Paz – who had spent the dinner between you and Ragnar – had pulled you into his lap, his arms like iron around your body. Ragnar had wandered off to the front with all the other foundlings, expectantly looking up at the clan leaders.

You had turned your face into Paz’s neck, trying to get his scent on you. You could not believe how you had only known this man for a few days – a week, at most! – and yet his scent was the only thing that seemed to calm you down. And it was no different for him.

The alpha’s hand immediately found your scent gland and you shivered as the soft leather brushed over your skin. It did not take long until he pulled his gloves off, settling them into your lap, before resuming his motions.

The nervous energy in the room was palpable but it was practically radiating off him and it inevitably affected you as well. Where you had been excited, if a bit reluctant, a few weeks ago at the prospect of reclaiming Mandalore, now there was only a strange sense of dread in your stomach. One that even the alpha could not dissolve.

“When you wake up tomorrow, some of us will set foot on our homeland for the first time in too many years,” Briggs announced, his serious gaze roaming over the packed hall, “I cannot promise you it will be easy. I cannot promise we will all wake up to the sight of Mandalore. But we will die trying.”

You could see Ragnar looking back at his father who tilted his head. A gesture meant to be reassuring but only resulted in you questioning whether Paz would be one of those dying. You shifted nervously, causing Paz to tighten his hold on your waist.

“Calm down, love,” he rumbled quietly behind you, “It will be alright.”

Forcing yourself to nod, you gripped his large hand tightly, trying to burn into your brain what it was like to touch him,

“Rest well and rest assured that tomorrow will mark the start of a brand new era,” Briggs raised his glass, “And let us toast to our home!”

“To our home!”

Everyone lifted their glasses and the conversations resumed, a constant background roar that reminded you of the countless fates that were tied to the success of this mission. A strange feeling started in your chest, and not the kind that Paz’s presence usually caused.

You shifted again, watching as the crowd dissipated and the foundlings were walked off to bed. Their excited chatter moved down the hall and something cold clenched your heart when you watched Ragnar wave at his father.

Immediately everything quieted down. With everyone returning to their own conversations and the hall being considerably more empty now, Paz did not waste any time. His hands landed on your thighs and you managed a wobbly smile.

 “What is going on in your pretty head?” he asked you, his fingers skimming over your thighs, “You’ve been squirmy all evening.”

“Who says something is on my mind?”, you popped a berry into your mouth, grimacing at the sudden sour taste.

“True,” he laughed, “You might have just spent dinner thinking about when you can finally sit on my cock again.”

“Paz!” you gasped, “you cannot – I mean – what if –“ You glanced around with flushed cheeks, relieved to see that no one had seemed to hear his indecent theory.

He laughed again and the sound made your heart and body melt. “I will never tire of making you flustered,” he murmured, his big hands pulling you closer, “Though I actually would not mind having you cockwarm me tonight, sweet omega,” his fingers brushed the underside of your breasts and you shivered, “I would be lying if I said I could ever get enough of you.”

“I actually had something similar in mind,” you admitted shyly, slipping off his lap and enjoying the way his hands followed you and his body leant into you. As if he wanted to keep touching you, as if he never wanted to let you go. Your heart skipped a beat and you smiled.

“I … would like to try something?”

He leant back, his legs spreading with the movement and your teeth dug into your bottom lip at the sight of the obvious bulge in his pants. “Oh yeah, omega, and what would that be?”

You made a few steps away, making sure that your robe (a dark blue, just like his armour) swished around your form as enticingly as possible. Paz’s head turned to follow your movement from your place in front of him to a chair in a dark alcove, dressed in shadows where you knelt down right in front of it.

The big alapha hummed, rising to his feet, knowing exactly what it was you had in mind. “I think I can get behind that idea.”

From the other sounds that were floating through the cantina, you knew that illicit things were already well underway. Most of them likely more graphic and adventurous than what you had in mind. Still, you felt a little nervous at the prospect of sucking Paz Vizsla’s cock.

But for some reason, this was exactly what you needed. You wanted to bring him pleasure, so much pleasure.

You watched as he pulled off his cape, folding it expertly before motioning for you to stand. He dropped it on the floor, his hand steadying your elbow as you sunk down on the soft fabric. “Don’t want you uncomfortable,” he announced, before sitting down in the chair.

He looked big like this, bigger than usual. And oh so confident it already made your panties wet. His knees spread, the trunks he called thigh caging you in and you watched with bated breath as his fingers undid his codpiece, expertly freeing his cock.

He was already hard and dripping precome, the knot at the base slightly inflated and you squeezed your thighs. It was not like you had never seen his cock before and it certainly was not as if he had not fucked you before. Yet, the sheer size of him and the thought of taking him in your mouth overwhelmed you a little.

Where were you supposed to start?

But when one big rough hand closed around his shaft and Paz started to jerk off right in front of you, you could not help but to simply … dive in.

Opening your mouth as far as it would go, you closed your lips around his tip, one hand struggling to fit around him. The grunt he let out, paired with a twitch of his hips, had you smiling around him.

“Stars above,” he cursed, “Warn a man next time, won’t you, love?”

You looked up at him, teary-eyed, while your tongue licked the underside of him. Or at least the part you could reach. He was heavy in your mouth, heavy and big and he tasted of something that made you want more. Slowly, you moved forward trying to take more of him but soon enough, he bumped something at the back of your throat and you sputtered.

Before you could panic about breathing, Paz had pulled out of you, his large hand cupping your cheek while the other was still wrapped around the base of his cock. “Deep breaths, omega,” he soothed you, his hand leisurely stroking himself, “You are doing so good for, trying to take it all.”

“You’re so big,” you marvelled, wrapping your hands around him, “I want it all, alpha, I – Paz, I really want it all.”

“Want my help?” he asked, “Might have to be a little rougher, though, sweet omega, and I can smell how much that turns you on but I need you to tell me – Are you sure?”

You nodded eagerly, darting your tongue out to lick at him. “I am sure, alpha,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the tip, “I promise.”

“If it is too much, tap my thigh three times, understood?”

You nodded again, shifting on your makeshift pillowed. Your thighs were already drenched at this point and you wondered whether you could come just from sucking him off. It seemed like you would be able to do a lot of things when it came to Paz.

His grip on your face loosened just the tiniest bit. “Open up for me,” he ordered, pulling your face towards him, “There we fucking go. Gorgeous.”

“I will never tire of this sight,” he groaned, “You struggling to take my size, trying to be so good for me,” he shifted, his hips surging forward and you smiled with pride when you did not gag this time, “Can I go deeper, love? Is that okay?”

With your position between his legs, your jaw wide open around him, you could not really nod. But Paz seemed to recognize the excited twinkle in your eye because you could hear the grin in his voice when he muttered a “Stars, you’re perfect.”

You took great care to keep your breathing even and through your nose, experimentally swirling your tongue around him every time he pulled out of your mouth. His thrusts grew heavier, his hold on you tighter and you swore you were this close to coming just from the sheer sight of his shaft covered in the sheen of you.

It was not long before he came in thick spurts on your tongue. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat working overtime as you did your best to swallow around him. “Good girl,” he praised you, “My good fucking girl.”

Your heart jumped in your chest as you licked him clean, not quite ready to let go of this intimacy.

His hand came to your chin, gently scooping up some of the come that had spilt from your lips. “Here you go,” he offered his coated thumb and you sucked the digit into your mouth without hesitation. You could never get enough of his taste.

“Let’s retire for the night, love,” he suggested, “We have a long day ahead of us.”

*

By the time you got settled in your bunk, you knew it was only a few hours before everything would start. Before you had to say goodbye.

Paz had excused himself, leaving you to get ready for bed alone before he appeared by your side, dressed completely in his armour.

“Are you okay?”

“Said goodbye to Ragnar,” he explained, sitting down on the little cot, hunching his shoulders over so he would not hit his head.

“Oh.”

Somewhere behind the curtains, someone snored.

Paz grunted when he laid down, his giant arm reaching out and pulling your back to his front.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, “It’s a tight fit.”

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, grunting when he pulled the curtain closed, “I will not spend my last night without my calmer.”

“Aren't you uncomfortable?” you asked, your voice small, “With – with the armours and me and all the …”

“I will not spend my last night without my calmer,” he repeated, leaving no room for doubt. It took a bit of shuffling to turn you around but when you finally were facing him, you already felt much better. You tucked your face into his neck, breathing in his scent as he wrapped both arms around you.

Your heart was squeezing so hard in your chest that the emotional pain became physical.

What if this was his last night? What if you would never see him again?

And what if you did? Would it ever be like this again? Would he want to keep you as his calmer (or more?) when Mandalore was finally reclaimed?

Paz shifted, his large hands running over your back until one settled at the back of your neck.

“I got you,” he rumbled, “You’ll be safe, omega, I promise.”

You swallowed away the need to tell him that it wasn’t your safety you were worried about.

 *

The next morning was worse. It barely qualified as morning and you were sure you had not found any sleep. You had just been shifting all night from side to side, desperately burying your nose in his neck to soak up every little bit of his scent that he could give you.

You were not sure if Paz had slept either but when the alarms sounded in the room at the same time, it took him a minute to get up. Everyone was shuffling around the packed room silently, most of them already dressed and armoured. Ready to descend to the surface of Mandalore.

Despair was clawing at your insides. You felt like you were watching something from the outside that you knew would fail. That you knew would destroy everything you held close to your heart.

And yet, you watched helplessly as they lined up, preparing to board the ship that would take them into the atmosphere.

It was silent – eerie – as if everyone knew something big was about to happen. And you couldn’t move from his side. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. You needed to be here with him.

You watched as Paz double-checked his weapons and your mouth quirked up as you remembered how the man had seemed like a weapon on his own the very first time you had seen him. And how true it was, now that you saw guns and rifles packed to every piece of his armour that could carry it.

Your smile fell just as quickly as it had appeared. Would this be the last time you got to see him?

You had been scared a lot of times in your life. Like when your parents had taught you how to swim and you had been convinced you would sink to the bottom of the sea. Or when you had taken a bad fall in one of the hiding places and scuffed your knee. But that childish fear of creatures and heights was nothing compared to the existential dread that settled in your stomach.

It wasn’t fear that something could go wrong it was fear that you knew something was going to go wrong.

And could you really risk this?

“You, uh, you will come back, right?” you whispered, already hating how needy you sounded. But you needed to hear him say it. You needed Paz Vizsla’s words to be the ones to tie you to the hope of a future together.

“Someone already scared for me?” Paz tilted his head and while you knew this was supposed to be a joke, his voice did not sound very light. Like he knew it too. That feeling.

“Well, I mean you have Ragnar,” you shrugged, pulling the cloak closer around you, “And I mean your tribe needs you, you are a great warrior and –“

“Exactly,” he interrupted you gently. You watched as he approached you, his steps heavy and measured and you swallowed. “I am a great warrior,” he repeated with his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, “Which is why I will come back to you.”

“But –“

“Listen to me,” he whispered, his hand cupping the side of your neck, scenting you so gently your eyes fluttered close, “I vow to the stars, I will come back to you, love.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he boarded the ship.

*

If somebody asked you what happened during the time you were waiting, you would not be able to tell them. As soon as Paz embarked on the with the scouting group, it felt like time stood still. You barely knew what you were doing. You were pacing the entire length of the ship it seemed, Ragnar keeping you company for a few of those pacing trips before he distracted himself by playing with the other foundlings.

You tried to approach your feelings rationally. You had spent a lot of your time these past few days in close proximity with Paz. He was an alpha, you were an omega, obviously there were some biological components that could have contributed to your feelings for him.

But that was exactly it. Your feelings …

At the thought of Paz not coming back, it felt like your heart ripped into two. You could not fathom a world without him in it and, more importantly perhaps, you could not fathom your life without him in it. You wanted him to come back and when all the tribes settled in their parts of Mandalore, you wanted to be as close to him as now. You wanted to spend your evening with him and Ragnar and you wanted to know what his days were like, what his role was in his clan.

Whether he wanted to keep you in his life as well.

Waiting was pure torture. Communications were cut and all that remained was the cold silence of the ship. You avoided the cockpit and strategy meetings, Briggs (thankfully) seemed to understand your reluctance and did not press you on the matter. Until Axe Woves came to warn the ship of the Imperial that had settled on the planet and the fight that had broken loose.

That was the meeting you had insisted on attending, hoping that – in whatever capacity – the stoic alpha might drop some comments about the people on the surface.

“Is,” you swallowed, “Is he well?”

The beskar-clad man, much to your frustration, said nothing at all.

Which was not very helpful.

The fight continued and troops were dispatched and you stayed, keeping the foundlings safe and quiet. In fitful dreams, you heard yourself confessing your love to him just before he disappeared never to return again. You woke up with cold sweats until you crawled into his bunk, pressing your nose into his pillow and willing yourself to think of a future in which he came back to you unharmed.

Sometimes, you could hear Sluice and Chants converse about what to do if it all failed. Whether to settle back in Nevarro was another possibility or if the tribes should stick together to find a new home.

All you could think was that you would not leave Paz on this planet.

You could not leave him.

It was morning when the announcement came. You had buried yourself in his cot, his sheets pressed to your nose as you took trembling breaths when the PA system stuttered to life, the mechanical voice echoing through the empty hallways.

You had retaken Mandalore. The air was breathable and you could safely land on the surface to meet the victorious troops.

The joy and excitement that spread through your entire body could not be described. Nothing could happen to wipe the smile off your face as you frantically searched for the one good dress you wanted to wear when you saw Paz again. You wanted to please him and kiss him and tell him you loved him. And maybe, if you were very lucky, he loved you too.

Stars, how you hoped he would.

But that elation stopped short when you set foot onto Mandalore. You could not even look at the surrounding landscapes, the fallen home of your ancestors – when you spotted the group but no Paz. A quick glance around did not reveal him either and suddenly the feeling of dread was back again.

Briggs was standing there too, and you knew the man long enough that when you saw his eyes getting glassy at your sight, he did not need to say anything anymore for the tears to fall.

This was it then.

You always wondered what it would feel like to live with a broken heart. Now you knew.

The pain in your heart was unbearable and you suddenly wished that you had never left the bunk this morning. That you were still curled up in his scent and his blankets without the knowledge that the alpha you wanted to spend your life with was dead.

“Where is my buir?” Ragnar asked somewhere behind you and you could hear it in his voice. How he tried to sound strong but he was just a child. A child without his father.

He made his way to the front and stopped by your side. You put your hands on his shoulder.

“I am sure he will be fine,” you assured him, not believing your own words, “He – he must have … another mission somewhere, right?” you looked to Axe Woves who avoided your gaze, “Right?”

Ragnar grabbed your hand. “Bu said if he is late, I need to distract you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we're family,” he said it so effortlessly, “and because I know he will come back but you might worry and you shouldn’t worry.”

You were not sure what happened first: the stopping of your heart or the break in your breath. Paz told him you were his family? Ragnar considered you … his family?

“Do you wanna play a board game?” the boy asked and the breath rushed back into your lungs, “Bu taught me a few games for when I wait for him to come back.”

“He did?” you asked, your voice faint as you followed him back to where someone had set up a small open-air cantina at the ramp of the ship. You ignored the looks Briggs and Chants gave you. Ignored the way that Bo Katan bowed her head as if to pay respect to you as if you had something to mourn.

Not now, you told yourself as your heart cracked in your chest. Maybe tomorrow you could bury yourself in Paz’s bunk, breathing in his scent until there was nothing left but your own grief.

Tomorrow, you promised yourself, Tomorrow I will know he is dead.

*

The sun was setting over the mountains and Ragnar made no sign of stopping the game anytime soon. He had patiently explained the elaborate card game to you before dealing the cards. And then he had continued to play with you the entire day. Sometimes, people joined you for a round or two. The first had been Din Djarin – the man with the green baby. He had not said anything but you could feel the sadness coming off him in waves.

Then there had been The Armourer who had stayed for only one round, occasionally speaking to Ragnar about his helmet ceremony (the first having been interrupted only a few weeks prior). She was followed by Sluice, Bo Katan and finally, Briggs.

“Mind if I join?” the older man had asked, only sitting down when you nodded.

“Not at all,” Ragnar spoke up, relieving you of the to find the energy, “Do you know the rules?”

Briggs had left after two rounds, his warm hand on your shoulder the only indication of what he had come here to say. My condolences for your loss.

The tears had burned hot in your eyes but you forced yourself to keep playing. Ragnar won most rounds and the one he did not, you were fairly sure he lost on purpose. “No worries,” he assured you with childish wisdom, “Sometimes it takes a little longer to get the rules.”

“That is okay,” you forced yourself to smile, “How about we take a break for some food?”

“Good idea!” the boy jumped up, “I will get some of the berries and you stay here and watch the cards!”

Before you could protest, he had raced to the small buffet table.

You both welcomed and feared the moment of solitude this afforded you. It allowed you to take a deep breath, to let your shoulders and your guard fall. Maybe even a few tears if you were quick about it. You did not want Ragner to see you like this. He seemed to be determined that his father was alive and well – that he would return – that you could not bear to be the one to break his heart.

“Bu!” Ragnar shouted and you whipped around immediately. It took you a moment to find Ragnar but when you did, he had his arms wrapped around the legs of a large man. A man dressed in dark blue armour.

 “Paz,” you sighed, feeling tons lighter. Ragnar threw himself at his father who caught him though you did not fail to notice the way his legs almost buckled.

Stars he was hurt.

A new wave of panic washed over you and you did not realise you had stood up until the stoll toppled behind you. Several pairs of eyes were on you but you only cared about one.

Paz set Ragnar down and whispered something to him. You watched as the boy nodded, skipping off to Din and the Armourer. And then Paz walked towards you. Though walk seemed too weak a word for the way his heavy steps came closer and closer, his looming figure soon right in front of you.

Paz was right in front of you.

“You,” he growled, taking your hand without slowing his stride, “Come with me.”

“Paz, what happened?” you asked, trying to look him over, “Are you hurt? Did – Were those Imperials we spotted on the radar? Axe Woves and Briggs and – oh stars, we need to get you checked out and wait – are you bleeding? Where does it hurt maybe I can –“

A door swished open and you glanced around in confusion. This was not the infirmary. This was not even a proper room if the cleaning supplies on the shelves were anything to go by.

“Paz, you need – oh!” your hands gripped his shoulders tightly when he lifted you onto a surface. Was it a table? A counter? Stars, you could not bring yourself to care. Not when he was standing in front of you, panting like he had the fight of his life behind him.

Which he probably did.

Your heart clenched again, from fear or joy you could not tell.

His large hand fiddled with your dress and with a rip, your entire front piece was hanging off you in tatters.

“Alpha,” you cried, moving your hands from his shoulders to his chest, “Alpha, are you all right? I was so worried.”

The big man stepped between your open legs and you took a deep breath. The smell of adrenaline burned your nose but you could not help but notice the arousal that was in the air as well. He was angry and determined and the way he did not even look at his hands when he tugged on his belt made you glad you were already sitting down.

“Keep calling me that and I will be,” he grunted, opening the snaps of his armour and finally his fly.

Your eyes were fixated on his hand around his cock. “Pull down your dress,” he instructed instead, “I want to see your tits.”

You hurried to do so, almost ripping the fabric entirely in the process but you could not care less. Not when you had your dream of an alpha standing between your open legs, getting ready to fuck you. The ruined fabric pooled around your hips and the cool air made your nipple pebble. But then Paz was right there, the bulk of his body between yours and you could feel his cock against the inside of your thigh.

He pushed the tip of his cock against your folds, slowly circling your clit and you whimpered. Why did everything he did feel so good? “Ready?” he asked, spreading your wetness around and you found yourself wishing that you could see. That you could see how big he was against you, how his hand gripped himself, how his brows might furrow in determination and the set of his lips as he pushed inside you.

But you could not have everything in life. And for this moment, the feeling of his cock stretching your walls was enough. He was here, he was alive and he made you feel so stars forsaken good.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “Paz …”

“That’s good, huh?” he grumbled, slowly pulling out before pushing back in. You could feel your walls ease around him, your juices covering his shaft and the gland on your neck pulsed with the need to have him scent you.

He remained still for a few moments and you took a deep breath, breathing him in again and trying to get yourself to realize that he was alive. Your alpha was alive.

Paz started to move, then, and slowly pushed inside you again before building up a steady rhythm that had him deep, deep inside you. And all you could think, between bouts of pleasure, was that he was alive. Paz was alive.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hand shaking as you gripped the edge of the table, overcome with emotion, “A-alpha, I was so scared. “

A particularly hard thrust had your hands fly around his neck. “I was protecting you,” he replied, his voice shaking, “You were never in any danger, omega, I would not allow it.”

“I wasn’t scared for me, you di’kut,” you cursed as you hastily wiped away the tears streaming down your face, “I was scared for you!”

Paz grunted at your admission, pushing inside you again and pulling you as close as he could with the armour in the way. “And I was scared of never seeing you again,” he confessed into the darkness between your faces, “That I was breaking my promise to you.”

“Wh-What,” you gasped, feeling his cock grow inside you, “Alpha, what is happening?”

“Oh fuck,” he grunted, “Sorry, ‘mega, sorry, I didn't mean to – oh shit, love, you gotta stop squeezing me.”

Easier said than done. In fact, it seemed impossible. Because as soon as you realized that it was his knot swelling inside of you, all you could think about was what it would be like to be knotted by him. Which turned you on beyond belief.

The mental image of him filling you up to the brim, the giant size of him staying inside you, made your walls flutter and your high approach so much faster. Paz’s movements did not stop and you could feel the ring at his base growing and growing, catching on your entrance with every thrust and making you yearn to keep him inside.

“Alpha, will you – Can you – oh!” he hit that spot inside you again that made your blood sing and you fell back against the wall, completely at his mercy.

And then the light went out.

Your body tensed with fright and you squeaked, thinking something had gone horribly wrong. But Paz did not seem deterred and you faintly remembered that the light switch was somewhere on his side of the room.

There was a sound you could not pinpoint, followed by a loud clatter and then his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you to him and you squirmed at how he folded you in half, his cock still nestled deep inside you and then he was … kissing you.

You gasped, the feeling of his lips familiar against yours and everything you had dreamed of.

“Fuck it feels good to fill you up,” he murmured, the praise making your cheeks warm.

Your legs were still trembling around his hips and you tightened your hold around his neck. Your nose bumped against his scent gland. Add that to the feeling of his smile against your shoulder and even retaking Mandalore could never rival the feeling of being scented by him.

“That good, huh?” he teased you, his lips moving against your skin.

He had some stubble that tickled your sensitive skin and you gasped, the sensation opening you up even more.

And then he pushed inside you one last time as you came around him. The knot at his base swelled with no signs of stopping, locking you together as he filled you up. You shivered at the feeling of him twitching inside you, spurts of come filling you up in a way you had never experienced before, increasing the pressure inside you that made your walls clench. He continued to rut against you, causing your clit to rub against his pelvis again and again, prolonging your peak.

After what felt like an eternity, you came down from your high, relishing in the feeling of him still pulsing inside of you. It was strange, something you had never experienced before, but the closeness made you sigh contentedly against his lips.

Paz was quiet save for a few grunts, his hands grabbing your hips, keeping you as close as possible.

“I’ve never been knotted before,” you admitted between kisses.

“Really?” Paz asked, his mouth pausing on yours, “How does it feel?”

“It feels kinda nice, alpha,” you whispered, pulling his face closer to yours again.

Paz did not say anything for a moment, his laboured breath loud in the small room. Then his hands cupped your face and you could feel his eyes on you and you wondered if he was able to see you despite the darkness. Probably not, after all, it was his visor that usually enabled him to do so. But he made you feel seen with how his thumbs brushed over the apples of your cheeks, still wet with tear tracks or how his lips softly landed on yours.

“I don’t think I told you yet,” he said against your mouth, “But you are beautiful. To me, you are the – the most stunning omega I have ever seen. When I was down there – when I … I dreamt of what it would be like to see you with my own eyes.”

A flutter started in your chest. An awful flutter of hope that had you thinking of futures beyond the next few days. He could not mean what you thought he meant, right?

“But you helmet –“ you started, trying to rationalize away the hope in your voice.

But Paz had other plans. “I want to court you,” he said, sounding as determined as ever, “Stars, I want to properly court you, love, whatever that entails for your clan but I asked Briggs and –“

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure that I did everything right,” he explained, his hand warm on your back, “So I asked him about any customs I might have to know, that last night before we left and – and for a second there it looked like I would never get to ask you. But I can, love, I can ask you now. Will you let me court you, ‘mega? Will you let me spend the rest of my life with you and Ragnar and all the other foundlings the stars let us have?”

“You – you want children, too?” you asked, feeling like the breath was stolen out of your lungs, “M-more than Rganar, I mean?”

You could feel his smile against your neck, the tip of his nose buried in the valley beneath your ear. “Course I do,” he confirmed, “Ragnar is the biggest gift of my life, I won't say no to that joy again.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest and you could feel your walls clench around him. Paz moaned, his cock twitching inside you. “Is that a yes, then?” he asked carefully, his hand wandering up to cup the back of your neck. He moved away from you,

“Yes,” you breathed out with the biggest smile on your face, “Yes, Paz.”

The scent that surrounded you made you euphoric and you realized that it had been Paz all along. That sweet scent that made your heart beat faster and a smile appear on your lips? Paz fucking Vizsla.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la,” he asked you quietly, his breath warm on your face, “Look at me, sweetheart.”

And you did. Your eyes blinked open and it took you both an eternity and a second to get your eyes used to the seemingly blinding light of the storage room. But then your eyes met his and you saw Paz Vizsla for the first time.

He had dark eyes, just like you had daydreamed, and his hair looked just as soft as it had always felt. It was matted to his forehead in places and he looked … exhausted, like he had not slept in days. There were bruises on his cheekbones and you could see some dried blood and dirt on his jaw. But all of that was overshadowed by the brightest, biggest grin on his face.

It made the corners of his eyes crinkle and you could not help but smile back, absolutely in awe of the man in front of you. What were you supposed to say the first time you saw the face of the man you had fallen hopelessly in love with?

“You are handsome,” is what you settled on finally, carefully brushing your fingertip over his crooked nose.

He huffed out a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Thank you, my love,” he rumbled and your heart skipped a beat at him calling you his. Because you were, truly, whether you had realised it before or not, his.

“I love you,” you blurted out, feeling oddly shy.

“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “There is no version of this life in which I do not love you.”

“You will have to tell me about your scars,” you whispered, your eyes roaming over his face, catching on one that cut through his eyebrow, “Every single one.”

“I will,” he promised, kissing you again, “We have a lifetime for it.”

[r4izx]

Blooming flowers, Wilting love

lyney x g/n reader!

6,212 words and 33,475 characters

summary: lyney feels love when he sees you. but he feels itchy in his throat when he also sees you. he sometimes cough up petals as well... is this love?

warnings: mentions of blood, slight cursing (one curse word lol)

a/n: as i was writing this, i saw a tumblr post all about their love-hate relationship with hanahaki disease fanfics. it made me pause and go like, ʘ‿ʘ oh.

this is my longest fic so far but also...!!! one of my least favorites as i wrote this during a writer's block. •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀ nevertheless, hope you still enjoy!

"do you think we'd stay together, forever, yn?"

you and lyney were gazing at the sea that time. staring at the constellations, counting the stars, you think you won't ever forget that moment. the sound of the waves, the wind's breeze, it was so... peaceful for the lives of two fatui members. but his question was a bit abrupt, you think. especially for someone like you who thinks it's pointless to believe in such thoughts.

"there's no such thing as forever, lyney." it's the truth you think. nothing in this world lasts forever. that's why it's better to cherish the things you have now while you still can. this was your point of view of the world. for you the world had limits. you always thought that in the end, everyone will die anyway. so you didn't meddle yourself with beliefs about 'forever'. although... "-but i don't think i can live without you, all, beside me, lyney." you, of course, was referring to him and his siblings. you know how much lyney loves his family. after all, they're the only ones he has left to take care of in his life. compared to you who has no one, he had a responsibility.

lyney loves his family more than himself. from when you were kids staying at house of the hearth, you watched how much he cares for them. to the point where he'd sacrifice himself if he needed to. just for the sake of his family. and just like lyney, you cherish your family a lot. although not connected by blood, you view lyney, lynette, and freminet as your family. you've been together since childhood, you all grew up together, what else could they be but family?

what else?, you say?

contrary to your view of the three as family, lyney views you more than that. at first, he didn't know what he was feeling. he didn't know when it all began either. he just remembers when he started to think about you everytime you weren't there, everytime you weren't by his side. everytime you were with someone else. all of a sudden he started to feel jealous when he sees you with someone else. but it quickly goes away when you go to him at the end of the day. you were always there for him. lyney often bottled up his feelings. he had no one to vent to. it would be awkward to talk to father about it and he doesn't want to burden his siblings with his worries. but he has you. you were there to comfort him. at moments where he was at his lowest, you were just... there. he was sure you didn't learn any magic tricks, how come you always surprise him by being there when he needed someone? as if you knew what he was feeling. but still, he isn't complaining. at this point, he couldn't go by a day without you and he felt reassured, ..you cherish him more than anyone else, you feel that you have a duty to protect him, ..just like family! you are his family. that's all it is, ..-right?

but if that was the case, then... lyney thinks why doesn't he feel the same way towards his siblings, his family. he never got jealous when lynette and freminet was with someone else, no. he never relied on somone this much and felt comforted just by their presence. and sure enough, lyney was sure about his feelings for you. his love for you. and no, not love for family way but more like... a romantic way. he was sure of it when he noticed the fact that his temperature rises slightly when you both make contact. when you make cheesy remarks not knowing what it does to him cause you just view him as family. he felt butterflies in his stomach. and lyney thinks that this is what romantic love felt. it felt warm. it felt like he found a bonfire in a cold, snowy mountain. that fire was the only thing keeping him alive. it made him feel safe, warm and...

itchy?

is love supposed to irritate you like this? it started with an itch. lyney has been feeling itchy in his throat ever since he figured out his feelings for you. it was so irritating and annoying he wanted to take his throat out but he couldn't. he doesn't know what it is, he doesn't know anything at all. it's his first time loving someone in a way that's more than love for family, after all. so he goes to a doctor since he couldn't tell anyone about this. not father, not his siblings, and not even you. he doesn't have the courage yet. the doctor began examining him. asking him all kinds of questions. when did you start feeling the itch? are you able to eat properly? and... did you do anything that triggered it? well, that question definitely triggered something in his memories. and all of a sudden, he started coughing. his throat stated to ache unbearably. he couldn't breathe, he felt his airway being blocked no matter how hard he tried. it was a good choice to go to the doctor earlier, the doctor quickly moved to help lyney breathe. slowly, the coughing was going down but lyney's throat was getting itchier and itchier. he couldn't take it anymore. he coughed up whatever was making him feel that way despite the immense pain. to say that he was shocked was an understatement.

blood.

and...

..petals..

lyney wasn't stupid. he's heard of this before. he heard it a long time ago. when someone's love doesn't get reciprocated, they start to grow flowers in their lungs and cough up petals. he heard it when he was younger and thought it was stupid. that whoever was in love was stupid. clearly they were gonna die because of love, so why do they still continue? it wasn't even love for family. but now that he's older, lyney thinks he understands now. it doesn't make him any smarter for understanding though, rather he thinks that maybe he is stupid. he became the person who he thought was dumb for continuing to love someone despite that being the reason for why they're hurting so much. but how could he ever stop? he thinks that if he stops loving you his heart would as well. you made him feel safe, warm, comforted and... loved. he trusted you so much that it scared him how easily you could hurt him. but still, he won't stop. how could he when he can't even imagine a life without you?

the doctor explained to him in detail. how people only get this disease when they're love is unrequited and the fact that it was so rare to get it but he still did. he didn't know if he was lucky or not. although the doctor did tell him there was a way to remove the flowers though, it was basically a cure. he could get surgery in exchange for his memories. he would have to forget all about you. and so... "What! NO!" lyney couldn't help but shout out of surprise and annoyance. was this doctor crazy? do they think a person would want to forget someone they love? the thought of not remembering you sends lyney shivers down his spine. he can't even imagine forgetting all those memories. when you both went sparring together, got lost during a mission, when you wiped his tears when he couldn't keep his emotions to himself anymore, and even when you both first got taken in at the orphanage. it scares him. he doesn't want to forget you. so he never will.

the doctor just chuckled, fortunately they understood and gave some 'advice'.

"then, you better tell 'em what you feel soon. take the chance while you still can. you don't possibly think that you would live forever, right? ahaha..-"

forever.

"...there's no such thing as forever, lyney."

that memory suddenly popped into his mind. is this what you meant? that death will await for us in the end anyway? it's not like you were wrong though.. you were right. there's no forever in this world. but the doctor was also right. he should go ahead and tell you how he feels soon. he just needs to muster up the courage and confess!.. but how could he? how could he have the courage when he sees the way you look at him?

lyney always felt something odd about you everytime that tangerine head harbinger passed by. he sees the way your breath slightly hitches. the way you'd steal secret glances at him, the way your eyes glimmer for a bit when you see him, the way you turn your head to hide your reddening face.

he hated it.

he hated the fact that you liked someone else when he's right beside you and has always been right there since childhood. but what he hated even more is the fact that he pays so much attention to you. he'd notice things about you that he was sure you probably didn't know about yourself. you never acted this way around him... does he even have a chance? how can he possibly confess to you at this state? he feels his throat ache even more now. breathing felt more of a curse than a cause to live at this point. everytime he inhaled, he could feel petals going up his throat. truly, his time is limited now and he has to do something before it's too late.

by now, you've probably noticed that something was wrong with lyney. when he sees you, instead of usually greeting you with a bright smile and a hug, he just smiles, sends a wave, or even worse- he just nods at you! he barely talked you don't get what you did wrong so it was getting slightly annoying.

scratch that-- it was REALLY annoying.

you both finally met again after a busy week cause of father's orders at fontaine. it was a fatui meeting. everyone had to attend. you were glad cause that meant you would be able to see your family-- lyney, lynette, and freminet of course, --and also see lord childe. the harbringer who you oh so look up to. well, okay, maybe it's more than just admiration.

you like him.

you like that ginger head.

maybe it was because of the stupid smile on his face whenever he made you laugh, maybe it was because of the fact that you felt safe around him, or maybe it was simply because he was outgoing that he ended up stealing your attention. you didn't expect yourself to be the type to fall for someone really quickly, but you got to know him for a few months in a mission together and you... really liked him. he didn't just steal your attention, he stole your heart as well. although, you had no one to talk to about this and you don't think you would actually tell it to someone.

so here you are, at the fatui meeting, waiting for the harbringers to finish their speeches when it finally ended. originally, you took this meeting as an opportunity for you to catch up with your family. but it seems that lyney

had the same intentions when you feel a tap on your shoulder. you turn around and face him. you almost couldn't control the smile on your face when you remember that he's been acting differently towards you the past few weeks. you quickly compose yourself and speak to him with a stern look.

"don't you think you have something to say to me?" you cross your arms and stare at him, waiting for him to speak up. lyney suddenly mutters something incoherent, he sounded as if he couldn't form words probably in his mouth. the only thing you understood was his almost incomprehensible "wa--t--r. wah-... ter!!". for a moment, you were really worried. you've never seen lyney in such state before. you grabbed the nearest bottle you could and gave it to him as he takes a deep breathe and clears his throat. "well,... where, do i, begin?"

"oh ho, from the very beginning. lyney. we haven't seen eachother for so long, i can spare some time for you." despite your sharp tone, the sweet smile on your face was quite unsettling. oh boy, he's doomed. you were gonna scold him. you always did this. from when you both were a child, you always scolded lyney when he did some outrageous things like hurting himself just to rescue a cat stuck on a tree. you scolded him for a while that time. you were quite protective. after all, it's your duty as his family.

lyney tells you that he was feeling unwell and couldn't speak properly these past few weeks which explains the situation earlier with the water. "--but why didn't you tell me anything!?" that's right. why didn't he tell you anything? the lyney who always relied on you, who felt safe and comforted when he vented his feelings to you was now the same lyney who started acting a bit distant and different. when did he change so much? you just don't get it. did you really do something that he didn't like for him to be like this with you? he seemed fine with others which made you even more concerned. but before you could finish worrying, --lyney interrupts.

"..y/n.. i have something to tell you, okay?"

what's this? all of a sudden the atmosphere changed. it was gloomy yet felt somewhat reassuring. you didn't know what was gonna happen next. what is he gonna say? why is he being so serious? is he gonna drop some big news? why can't you understand him at all right now? and why is the 11th fatui harbringer approaching you? wait-- what?

"y/n!! so you were here!~" the ginger head was approaching you with that same stupid smile on his face again. you couldn't control yourself from slightly blushing. you could feel your ears reddening a bit as you try and look away from him. you cover your mouth to hide the fact that your mouth is slightly raised upward as you turn away from childe's direction as an attempt to hide from his gaze only for you to catch a short glimpse of lyney's expression.

you don't get it. you don't understand at all what that look on his face was. you, who's one of lyney's closest companions, someone who he could consider as family, for the first time was unable to know what lyney felt. he's been hiding too much stuff from you these days. he hasn't been opening up to you. you can't help but worry that he might be bottling up his feelings again and doesn't have anyone to vent to. but the thing is... lyney always went to you. he would go to you and you would comfort him. so why isn't he?... 'don't tell me.. that, he lost his trust in me?' the thought sent a shiver down your spine. you quickly looked at lyney's face again, only to see him gently smiling. was that just a trick of your eye? you were sure it wasn't. you look at his odd smile. unlike what a smile should do, it didn't reassure you at all. it made you worry even more. you really can't read him. he looks sad yet happy. he has a solemn face yet it felt as if it was filled with so much guilt. unfortunately, your thoughts was cut off when the man whom you liked stands before you.

"i've been looking for you everywhere! i'm hosting an after party with some of my companions, wanna join us?" childe asks you when he finally noticed lyney and continued, "--oh, and, you could invite your friend over there too." you glance at lyney who heard the offer. he understands that you're trying to ask him if he wants to attend. so, he looks at you with that unsettling smile again. "y-ou- ...you should go.. y/n, i'm.. fine.." he clears his throat mid sentence. he wasn't fine at all. his throat is so itchy, he feels that his lungs is about to burst, his chest feels heavy, his airway feels blocked and he feels that something is going up his throat and he's trying so desperately to hold it in. but there's only so much a person could handle. but... in the first place, lyney was a person who had no one he could rely on, who he could vent to except for you. but he can't bear it. he can't bear the sight of you with that tangerine. he thinks he really won't be able to handle this hanahaki disease thing. and for some reason, seeing you so in love with someone else hurt him more than the flowers threatening to spill from his body.

so he gathers some remaining strength to tug at your sleeve when you were about to leave with childe. he grabs your hand, flipping it to the side of your palm and does a little magic trick. he takes his hat, rummages through a bunch of items in it until he finally stops and grabs something. he grabs it and closes his hand and places it on top of your open palm. when he finally opens his fist, he then revealed a flower. a rainbow rose, to be exact. before you could even say something, lyney just nudges your hand a bit as a sign for you to just go already. you hadn't even left when he himself took the initiative and faced the opposite direction and left in a hurry. you didn't know why he was rushing you and himself so much. and at this point, you don't what your efforts to talk to him was all about when in the end, he just leaves. without leaving a word behind.

childe takes your hand in his and that was all it took for you to snap out of your daze. your heart instantly started beating faster. you think he might even be able to hear your heart pounding so loudly right now. was it because of the fact that he's holding you? the fact the he came all this way just to invite you? and that he was looking for you, and only you? or maybe it was because of a certain flower you were holding in your other hand. on one side, you were holding childe, and on the other, was a rainbow rose.

'a rainbow rose, huh.'

lyney couldn't sleep that day. nor could he breathe. nor could he eat, speak, and think properly. his heart felt like bursting. maybe it really was. when he saw the way you light up when childe came, he was hit with an arrow of reality through his lungs. suddenly the air around him felt warm. but not the type of warmth your presence gives him, rather... it felt suffocating. he felt like throwing up. he was doing all he could to keeo himself from vomiting. he really was. it was the hardest battle he has ever done. a battle between him and his own feelings. there is a saying that one's greatest enemy is theirselves and in this battle, lyney thinks he's at the losing end. when he left you there after giving the rainbow rose, he felt his heart throb in pain. he saw the look on your face. a face full of confusion, worry, and a small hint of happiness. at that moment, he just wanted to chase after you, hug you and never let you go. yet..., all he could do was send a small smile. a smile filled with mixed feelings, a smile you wouldn't be able to understand, even if you tried. lyney himself doesn't understand what he feels too. jealousy? anger? happiness? relief? sad? he didn't know! but one thing for sure was that he felt like he was...

about to die.

he immediately went to the nearest secluded place he could go to. making sure nobody, was around. and after all his efforts to not throw up, he started vomiting. blood. it was so bloody. not even enemies has hurt him to this point, yet... his own feelings did this. and lyney thinks again, 'is love supposed to feel like this?' he wanted to blame you, blame you for not returning his feelings and put him to such a miserable state like this, but he couldn't. cause he knew it was his fault. it was his fault for falling for someone who only views him as family. and if he wanted to he could just take surgery and forget about you! --but he won't. he's sure that forgetting you will hurt even more than this disease.

the downpour of blood and petals wasn't stopping. he was starting to choke on the petals. his throat was hurting, so, so badly. it was aching, it was itching. he wanted to scratch it out of him and just end his suffering. especially when something really rough went up his throat. it even got stuck there. he was coughing and coughing, trying to vomit it out. he was having such a difficult type to breathe and aside from petals and blood, even tears was spilling out from him. he was dying yet living. and so, he spitted it out. a flower. no, flowers. such beautiful flowers came out tainted with blood. at first, he didn't recognize what flowers it was because it was painted red from the blood, but he looked really closely and...

rainbow roses.

he scoffed, really? these, again? was teyvat making fun of him right now? cause it sure feels like it. the rainbow roses that was supposed to be filled with a bunch of colors was now just red. for some reason, that color reminded him of his fate. and so, he kept that rose.

lynette and freminet has caught on to lyney at this point. they started wondering what was wrong with him when they saw that he's been having too much so-called bathroom breaks, --especially, when you're around. they noticed how lyney's breath slightly hitched when he sees you, they noticed the fact that he now tends to avoid your gaze rather than look up to you and stare at your eyes as if he saw something beyond it like before. at first, they just watched. they waited, and they observed. just like in their missions. they knew for a fact that lyney won't open up his problems to his own siblings. which is why he always relied on you, opening up to you. you were his source of fresh air. in a place where he felt suffocated and had nowhere to go to, you were there. so surely, if lyney didn't want to tell them, they just have to wait, ...but if it takes too long and progressively gets worse, they have no choice but to interrogate him.

it's been a few weeks since lyney has been acting strange and there was no sign of him telling the truth to lynette and freminet. they were growing impatient to their brother's antics. they aren't usually this bothered but when it comes to health, they have to step in no matter what. family comes first and their brother showed them that. which is why, it's totally valid to do this right now because it's out of love and concern, ...right? lynette and freminet decided to follow lyney when he needed a bathroom break. they followed as lyney goes to a secluded area instead where no could see or hear him, which was perfect for them. --and almost immediately when lyney got there, he started throwing up.

how can they explain what they're feeling right now? watching their own brother suffer, vomiting blood and petals. their heart dropped. it felt like it. the world froze around them, only lyney was moving as if the time stopped. all this time... lyney was suffering this much and didn't tell anyone...? they couldn't help but think he was greedy, for not wanting to burden others but himself. they couldn't make a sound. they needed to be... patient. --like how they were trained and taught to be by their very own brother. tears were starting to blur their vision when the sound of raspy coughs kept on going as it becomes even more rougher than the last one. patience.., they both think to themselves. --but only when they heard their brother utter a name did they lose it.

"...y-/n--..."

blood, petals, and the way he acted around you. everything seemed connected somehow. it all cleared up. and it was so obvious that lyney was suffering an unrequited love. but they had to confirm it. their patience? gone. lynette and freminet look at eachother and nods, a signal saying 'go' as they rush towards lyney's side. just as they went beside him, lyney collapses to the ground, although still conscious. the other two immediately went to support him and lyney finally looks at them. he looks them in the eye and send a sheepish smile as if saying, 'don't get mad'. but how? how could they not? they wanted to scold lyney, scold him for keeping all his problems to himself, scold him for doing nothing and bearing the pain all this time, scold him for liking someone who only sees him as family and of course, ...scold him for continuing to love you despite everything.

lynette says it first, despite the cracks and sniffles between her words she still says, "brother--!!.. wh-..why don't you just.. get surgery and forget them?..". and lyney is shooked. how did they know who he really liked? was he.. "..so obvious.." freminet continues his thoughts. now, lyney couldn't hold back his tears anymore. he started crying. it wasn't about you, -no. he cried because after a long time again, he could open up. he could breathe again, although he knows not for long. literally. so he thinks he has to say everything now before he loses the chance. he has to explain everything to lynette, to freminet, and of course, to you..

"..--c--can't.." he can't. he can't forget you. why did everyone think this way? the doctor and even lynette. he wanted to tell lyney that he would rather lose his vision than forget you. he would rather duel with father than forget you, he would rather bear this pain than forget you. he would rather lose his life.. than forget you. he wanted to say all this to his siblings but he can't. he couldn't even imagine a life where he doesn't know how to utter your name. the thought scared him. to him, a life without you was a life without a home. no safe place. he wouldn't be able to breathe. most importantly he couldn't stop thinking about what you would feel if he forgets you. how ironic though, he doesn't even think about what you would feel if you found out that he's suffering all because of his feelings for you.

once, twice, thrice, it kept going on. petals enough to make flower crowns surged from lyney's throat. and now freminet speaks up, "--p-please, ..just, tell y/n what you feel..". ah, that's right. another cure for this disease aside from the surgery was to be loved right back. but he knows it's impossible so he just shakes his head in response. "h-he's telling you to confess..!, --n-not to get your feelings returned.." "stop being so stubborn!" freminet adds. for once, lyney let his siblings scold him, after all it's a first, and perhaps even the last time this would occur. the thought made lyney cry. salty tears came flowing down his eyes along with blood and flowers from his mouth. it was mostly because he thinks that sooner or later he'll end up leaving his loved ones behind, both his family, and you.

a week had passed and his disease showed no signs of getting better, only getting worse as time passed. it was the same thing over and over again except for the fact that he has his siblings to help and rely on now. but then again, nothing would change if he doesn't tell you what he feels, that's why he's been preparing himself. for the entire week ever since lynette and freminet found out about his condition, he's been taking a break from missions with the excuse that he got a severe injury from a recent battle. which lead to him to being stuck in his room for the whole week, unable to see anyone aside from his siblings and father. nobody raised suspicions about him faking his condition, after all, he did look like he was suffering. but during that period of time, he didn't need to control his vomiting which helped him, ... sorta..? anyway, it simply meant that he's ready.

ready to tell you what he truly feels before it's too late,

...or not..

"i'm confessing to childe soon.."

hah...

...-ahahaHah"--ahaHahaha..--"

lyney couldn't help but laugh. should he have just stayed in his room for a couple more weeks? he laughed. watching your amused yet confused expression, you're probably thinking 'what's wrong with him?' and he laughs even more! he was laughing so hard tears started forming in his eyes, atleast, he thinks it's because of that. it was a bittersweet laugh. he starts to ponder, 'maybe i should've just gotten surgery..' but he smacks his head with his palm. that's right. his hat nearly tumbles off his head.

"lyney-?! what's wrong? -you.. okay..?"

you probably questioned if he was okay because he was still smiling and chuckling. "-pfft. i was just so enamoured by your eagerness to confess! ahaha-!!" contrary to him, that is. it took him so long, to build up the courage to tell you his feelings, and now he just feels like running away. he starts to feel that sooner or later tears won't be the only thing pouring out of him again. he may be chuckling right now but his mind is

it took a while for lyney to calm down again, while you were stressing over what's going on. why was he being like this? he's acting weird, again. the lyney who opened up his heart to you before is long gone now. replaced with unreadable expressions and held back words. you knew, something was off. enamoured? really? something was off about lyney in a way he was only like this towards you. but no matter what you do, you can't seem to remember anything you might have done to put him in such state. you might be a bit oblivious but you aren't stupid. yet, you still can't pin point why he's like this.

lyney interrupts your thoughts. he clears his throat and with a shaky voice, he asks,

"y-you... you're confessing, today?"

hm?

why would lyney be so curious about your confession? maybe he's curious as a friend just like others would be, but, something smells fishy. lyney isn't the type of person to be so caught up on topics like these, as far as you know. so, what's up with him now?

"..yeah, later. ..he invited me to go to on a mission with me. it's these little acts of him that make me so heads over heels for him." and that was all it took for lyney's courage to vanish. all bark yet no bite. you who was once his home, a person he could confide in, where he could breathe and feel safe, is now the reason why he is unable to breathe. he's inhaling, yes, --yet he feels that he can't exhale anymore. just endlessly gasping for air.

-fuck. he has to do this. he knows it himself, --that it isn't long before he has to go. he has to. -no, he needs to. he needs to confess. lyney takes a long, deep breath and finally let out some air. he looks at you, --you who's blushing so meekly, fiddling with your fingers like a teenager texting their crush, only for him to remember that it's all because you're thinking about him. someone else.

"y/n... y-you know, you're really special to me right, i just wanna know if you feel the same.. do you love me too?" maybe lyney should've made it clear, --or maybe he shouldn't have asked because- "--of course i do, lyney.. were family okay? always remember that." oh he is for sure gonna remember that. until his last breath most likely.

at this point he just had to go. "i-i see, well- y/n, I'll get going, goodluck!" lyney is rushing to get out of here, his heart his thumping so fast but the butterflies he feels is in his throat, he needs to go, -as soon as possible. just as he turns around to leave you immediately say something, "-lyney! wait-". and he gulps, but doesn't turn around to look at you. there was a short pause until you continued, "i want you to know that you're special to me, okay? you're one of my closest friends.., family-, even, ...just wanted to say this so you know.. goodluck! stay safe! let's watch the waves again next time, when we have time. see you!"

that time never comes.

he can sense that you're waving but he doesn't wave back. you hear his footsteps and watch as he leaves. something was wrong with lyney today so you wanted to reassure him. albeit it was just an inkling.

liquid trails on the ground as lyney walk-runs. he doesn't know whether it's from the tears running down his face or the blood pouring out of his mouth. maybe a mix of both. the trail leads to an room that served as a dormitory for the fatuis, but fortunately for him, it was empty. unlike his mind that was full of thoughts and his heart full of emotions. he couldn't stop thinking about what you said. sure, you may have said that he's special and all but what he heard was the word friend. a reminder that he'll never be more to you than that.

maybe it was just him.

maybe he was the only one who felt like his day is complete when he sees you. maybe he was the only one who thought that you were eachother's back. but now he feels as if he's the only one watching your back as you take a step forward while he's just there, watching you. maybe he was the only one who thought he had a chance. considering you were childhood friends and all. fuck- friends. it was right there all along. you both were childhood friends, nothing more, nothing less. this was his destiny. but for once he wants to stray from the path towards this so called destiny and it leads him to this current situation.

flowers.

there's no point in holding back now. he really feels like he's reaching the end of the path he's walking. he lets it all out, coughing up different kinds of flowers. heliotropes, chrysanthemums, rainbow roses... this time it's not just petals anymore, it's full on blooming flowers coated in red.

everything hurts.

his throat, his lungs, his heart... even his mind! he can't take it anymore yet for some reason his mind starts drifting back to the memories he and you had together. these memories felt like home. the sound of waves crashing onto the land, the sound of his heart beating along, and the sound of your comforting voice. for a split second he felt like the pain he was feeling eased for a bit, but he was brought back to reality when he realizes that these moments are really just memories, ...and will forever stay like that. he will no longer be able to be with you again, no longer have the ability to make more moments like these. and it dawns on him,

his friends, his family, the fatui, childe, father, and... you. his life flashes before his eyes. and he didn't even realize it but he was shedding no tears. weird but, maybe this was just too much pain for him to even process. he feels his body weakening, his legs barely able to stand makes him fall onto his knees. the way he starts to feel dizzy and his vision is blurred-- even without tears in his eyes. the way he feels like something pierced through his stomach, his heart-, even. he knows, his time is up.

lyney wishes he could say his last words, but he isn't able to. so he just says it in his mind,

...thank you,

and that was his final words. to you, to his siblings, to everyone.

he falls down the ground, and with all the strength he could muster, he tries to open his eyes, ...only to see a rainbow rose. the rose he kept. though, it wasn't covered in red anymore, and it was fresh. it was blooming.

then lyney smiles,

maybe there was forever in this world, but it was just... not meant for lyney.