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#there's a lot more snow here than i'm used to
daydreaming-nerd · 3 days
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I’ll Crawl Home To Her (Azriel x Reader) 
AN: This was supposed to be based off But Daddy I Love Him but it morphed into something else but I'm kinda happy about it.
Summary: The story of how the princess of Velaris and the shadowsinger came to be.
Warnings: blood, injury, dickhead dads, bit of smut but it's not too descriptive (It's for the plot), angst, fluffy ending.
Word count: 8053
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As a princess I was told that “hate” is a very strong word. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of things that I hated. For example, I greatly disliked when my tea came with too much milk, and I absolutely despised corsets. But if there was one thing I hated, and I mean truly hated, it was my father. 
If it wasn’t for the way he treated my mother and older brother then it would be the way he treated me. How he kept me from my beloved, my brother's best friend, the shadowsinger, my Azriel.  
Azriel had been mine long before my father ever knew about it. When I grew to be 207 my mother finally convinced my father to let me go to Windhaven with her to visit Rhys. I hadn’t seen my brother in years, as he had begun training with the Illyrians. 
He wrote me letters of course, detailing friends and enemies he made along the way. Two of which stood out to me, Cassian and Azriel. However these letters never made up for him in the flesh, which is why during my first trip to Windhaven I had never been so excited. To this day I still remember it…
The winter wind stung my cheeks as snow clung to the furs of my cloak. It was as if no matter how many layers I wore the wind found its way to barrel through and nip at my skin. 
I found myself walking along the edge of the camp, where the light of the fires couldn't reach me and only the moon gave me the ability to see. When my mother and I arrived at the little cabin Rhys was not there, after speaking to Devlon we found he was on assignment and would be home soon. 
After a few hours in the cabin I began to feel claustrophobic, so I took a walk around the heavily wooded area. There was something magic about the first snow of the season. The way the snow covered the ground and crunched under my boots. White capped trees that looked like they were frosted by the gods, and the still silence that came from the insulation the blanket of white provided.  
“It’s a little cold out don’t you-” a voice crooned behind me and stopped abruptly as I turned to face him. 
Standing frozen just a few feet from me was an Illyrian male with his mouth agape at the sight of me. He was large, his wings the biggest I had ever seen. Inky black hair framed his carved face as his hazel eyes frozen in shock as if he had just seen a ghost. 
“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head a bit, as if to clear the fog from his mind. “It’s just that I don’t see many beautiful things up here, you startled me.” 
My cheeks flush and I pray he thinks it's from the cold and not the butterflies in my stomach. 
“I find that hard to believe when this is your view,” I smile, gesturing to the snow valley below us. “There’s nothing more beautiful than the first snowfall of the year.”
Footsteps crunch behind me as he comes up on my right, “Perhaps, but it pales in comparison to you,” he smirks and this time I know he can tell he’s the reason my cheeks are pink. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?” 
I turn to meet his gaze once more but before I can answer back I hear a shout coming from far away. 
“Y/N!” my brother shouts charging towards me. 
“Rhys!” I call back running into his embrace. 
He lets out a groan as I leap into his arms, a pile of furs and wool as I pull him into me. The scent of sea salt and citrus filling my nose, the warmth of him seeping through my clothes. 
“Ahh little sister I’ve missed you,” Rhys says, setting me down to get a good look at me. 
“Little sister?” called the male behind me, his snow crunching footsteps coming towards Rhysand and I’s side. 
“It seems you’ve already met her, this is my little sister,  y/n.”Rhys beams, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Y/n this is my very good friend, Azriel.” 
“Azriel,” I blink, holding out my hand for the shadowsinger to shake. How had I not realized? Rhysand’s letters spoke of his shadowsinger friend, now that I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him, I could see the dark matter swirling around him. 
“Princess,” he says, bowing his head and pressing a kiss to my hand. “It is an honor to meet you. You’ll have to forgive my previous informality, I didn’t know who you were.” 
Rhysand let out a hearty laugh behind me, “Azriel my friend there is no need for such formalities, in fact my sister detests them.” he smiles. 
“It’s true, you can just call me y/n, I’m sure that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come.” I smile hoping I was speaking the truth into existence. 
“Come, mother has made dinner for all of us and you have yet to meet Cassian,” Rhys said enthusiastically, throwing an arm over my shoulder. 
From that day forward I found myself spending more and more time at Windhaven, in hopes of seeing Azriel. Sometimes I would see him for only a minute or so, other times he would be able to stay and have dinner with my mother, myself and of course Rhys and Cass. 
Those were always my favorite nights when he and I would share stolen glances across the table. Sometimes we might brush hands reaching for the carafe of wine, other times I would feel his boot brush my ankle under the table. Both of us danced around the other like flickering flames. 
It wasn’t until a few years later when all three of them conquered the blood rite that Azriel and I were finally able to admit our feelings for one another…
We stood behind one of the many rows of cabins, the sound of laughing warriors celebrating their victories or mourning their losses ran through the camp. Before he even spoke I knew why he asked me to meet him back here, I could feel the tension between us both. 
“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care about you. I’m tired of saying “nothing” whenever Rhys and Cassian ask me what’s on my mind. I’m tired of trying to hide that everytime I come back to camp that I’m looking for you and hoping I can see you for just one second. I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you,” Azriel confesses, caging me against the back wall of a cabin. 
“Azriel I-” I begin but he cuts me off.
“When we were on the mountain, there was a moment where there was a dagger to my throat and I thought I was going to die. I thought I would leave this world without telling you how much I loved you. If it wasn’t for Cassian that would’ve been the case. I won’t make the same mistakes twice,” he finished. 
“Azriel, I love you too,” I shuddered a sigh, aware of how close he was to me. 
The second the words left my mouth he was on me, large hands encircling my waist as I felt every inch of his body pressed against mine. His breath was hot on my face, contrasting the bitter cold of the night air.  
“Can I kiss you?” he breathed,  lips mere inches from mine. 
“Please,” I begged, but once again the word hung in the air for mere seconds before his mouth was on mine. 
Every part of it felt so right. His hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair, his lips on mine claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My arms pulled him as close as possible, needing to feel him, smell that scent of rain, leather and whatever intoxicating cologne he was wearing.  I was so drunk on him that I was shaken when I heard a hearty laugh ring out through the camp. 
I pulled back immediately realizing what was happening, “Oh my gods, we can’t do this here, my brother he-” 
“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “I talked to Rhys about it, I have his blessing to court you. He took it rather well, he actually seemed excited.” Azriel laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he held me closer, his body blocking the wind from seeping into my clothes. 
“Oh Azriel,” I smile, kissing him hard as I feel him lifting me into the air, my head spinning just as fast as he spun me. 
We spent the rest of that night lying on a blanket in a field away from the world. The sound of distant celebrations making us laugh every now and then. At some point I could’ve sworn I heard Cassian singing a tale of an old drunk warrior.
I had tried to tell Azriel that he should join his brothers in their celebration but he insisted that he would much rather spend his few moments of peace with me. It was one of the best nights of my life. 
Our relationship was kept secret from everyone but Rhys and Cassian. Even my mother, who always accompanied me to Windhaven, was kept in the dark. No one with close ties to my father could know. That being said, it was hard for Azriel and I to find quiet moments together. 
Most of the time we met in the woods behind camp. Azriel would go away and bring me little trinkets, pretty rocks and feathers he found while in the mountains. In the spring he always came with a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. We always ended up making out and getting carried away, on more than one occasion I tried to take things further but he never let me. 
“I won’t have the first time I bed you in the woods. You’re a princess, you deserve a soft bed to be worshiped on.” 
Was what he always said to me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn’t help but wish for more. 
It wasn’t until a few months later that I finally saw an opening. Father and mother were going to be at a meeting in the Winter Court, leaving Velaris in the care of Rhys. More importantly the cabin at Windhaven would be empty. That night was truly the best night of my life.
My back hits the warm sheets below me as Azriel looks at my bare body with hungry eyes. I had never been with a male before, my father and mother dead set on having me intact for whatever husband they shackled me to. But Azriel would be my husband, even if he wasn’t noble or the son of a High Lord he was mine, and I was his. I didn’t care how many rules I had to break to have him. 
“My beautiful, beautiful princess,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my neck. 
His hands wander the expanse of my bare skin, both warming and leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. I arch my back into him, needing more, needing the very essence of him branded into me. 
“Azriel I need more,” I breathe tugging on the ends of his hair. 
He had already stripped me bare and kissed every square inch of me before falling to his knees and feasting on me like I was his last meal. I had read about such sinful touches before, dreamt about experiencing those sensations with him at night. None of it compared to the real thing. 
“Are you sure about this?” He asks me once more, brushing the hair from my face. 
“I’m sure, I want it to be you,” I nod running my hands through his hair again. 
The wild twinkle in his eyes was enough to make my toes curl as he smiled at me, “I promise to be gentle, to make you feel good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips. 
“I trust you Az,” I nod and his lips kick up again at his nickname. 
I feel him nudge and my entrance and my breath hitches as he inches himself inside. The stretch was painful, but the sting faded as he peppered kisses all over my face, whispering sweet nothings to me.
“Shh you’re doing so well princess…”
“You’re so beautiful…” 
“Can you feel me? Can you feel us?” 
“I love you…” 
I must’ve seen stars a million times that night. His gentle nature only made me fall deeper in love with him. It wasn’t the brutal fucking I had heard about in taverns and from drunk men at balls. He had taken his time, and been even more gentle than he had promised me. 
We made love a dozen times that night. Kissed and touched and worshiped until I fell asleep, bathed and warm in his arms.
The next morning was hard to face. Knowing we had to leave the cabin and act as if we didn’t spend the entire night exchanging souls, and tangled in eachothers arms. 
Az especially was on edge, so much so that when a younger male offered to tie my boot for me Azriel marched over and pushed him into the mud before pulling my foot onto his bent knee and tying it himself. 
Of course I yelled at him for being an Illyrian baby while Rhys and Cassian laughed and poked fun at their friend. Azriel just huffed and shot a warning glance at the poor male who had tried to tie my boot. 
From there on out we spent every possible moment together. I would tell my father that I was visiting friends in other courts just so I could see Azriel, which wasn’t often. As the war between humans and fae grew more iminanent I saw less and less of the shadowsinger. Our meetings became more fervent, and well…passionate. We became careless and it’s what ended up tearing him away from me for good.  
My back was pressed against the cabin wall, my hands pinned by my head as Azriel’s lips consumed mine. We had no longer than an hour together before he would be set back to scout for Hybern’s troops, but we intended to make the most of it. 
“I missed you,” he breathed into my neck. 
“I missed you too, two weeks is too long,” I murmured, breathing in his scent. He always left me one of his many shirts to sleep in but it never did compare to the real thing. 
“I don’t have much time, they’re sending me to the border to scout for Hybern’s troops,” he says in between kisses. 
Scarred hands drift over my waist and graze my bum as I feel him collecting fist fulls of my skirt. Before my dress can be pushed up much further than my knees the door to the cabin barges open, startling both of us. Azriel  placed his hand on one of the daggers strapped to his side, but not even he could defend me from who stepped through the threshold. 
“What the hells is going on here?” My father’s voice boomed from the doorway, the cold air from outside seeping into the place that was once our own. 
I peek out from behind Azriel’s shoulder to find not only my father but Lord Devlon standing before us. My fathers eyes locked on mine, and white hot fear seared my nerves. 
“What are you doing with my daughter?!” My father roared, his power slamming Azriel aside. 
“Father no!” I scream, clinging to his arm to interrupt his antics. 
Devlon screamed for backup to come as Azriel’s feet hit the floor again. The commotion outside beginning to stir. 
“My lord, I-” Azriel starts to explain but my father cuts him off. 
“You will not speak unless spoken to, you bastard born brute!” my father screams as Devlon’s men come to detain the Shadowsinger. 
“Father stop it! He didn’t take advantage of me, we’ve been seeing each other.” I plead with my father as tears start to well up in my eyes. 
“What?!” he scoffed, looking at me like I was a common whore. “You are promised to one of the sons of Spring and yet you soil yourself with filth of his kind?” 
“He’s not filth. He’s Rhys’ friend, and he’s good, brave and kind.” I beseech him as I hear Azriel struggle against the men who have him bound.
My father takes a deep breath and turns his gaze from me. The sound of his boots crossing the wooden floors to stand before Azriel are the loudest most impending sound I had ever heard. He stands before my shadowsinger before raising his hand and letting his fist collide with that beautiful face I had spent so long kissing. 
My gasp reverberates through the room but Azriel doesn’t make a sound, as if he’s challenging my father, or proving his worth. 
“What should we do with him?” my father asks, not taking his eyes off Az. 
“The boy has completed the rite, we can send him to one of the battalions on the border. Perhaps the trash will take itself out,” Devlon laughs. I had known that the Lord had a chip on his shoulder for my brother and his friends. But sending him to the slaughter? 
“Father please I love him!” I cry falling to my knees before my father, grasping his hand. I would never beg my father for anything, never fall to my knees for anyone. But for this I would… for Azriel, I would die on my knees. 
Despite my pleading my fathers gaze never falters from where it is fixed on Azriel. As if he’s trying to decide if he should slit his throat now or let him die on a battlefield. Azriel’s face remains steadfast and strong, showing no signs of weakness, like he will accept whatever punishment befalls him with the grace of a warrior.
“Send him,” he says resolutely before turning away. 
“NO PLEASE!” I beseech as my father hauls me to my feets again, but my knees are giving out under me. 
“It is done,” his gruff voice says in my ear as I watch them haul Azriel to his feet. “One day you’ll thank me.” 
I watch as they pull Azriel toward the door. Dragging him unnecessarily letting his wings drape across the ground. It was all happening so fast and could be the last time I ever saw his face.
“Let me say goodbye! Please let me say goodbye!” I shouted thrashing in my fathers grasp. Needing to touch Az one last time, needing one more moment with him. 
Azriel’s eyes were frantic as he heard my screams, as he watched my father use his strength to detain me.  
“Listen! Listen!” he called trying to get me to stop my frantic blubbering, the guards pulling him out the door. “You have to be strong princess. I love you , and I will find you again, if not in this life than in the next!” he shouts as he is hauled past the threshold of the cabin. 
“Azriel!” I scream, my voice cracking under the weight of my tears. 
“I love you!” he shouts again from the outside of the cabin. 
“I love you!” I call back to him, not knowing if I’ll ever get another chance to say it. 
That was six months ago...
Since then the war had gotten more and more bloody, and unavoidable. As far as I knew Azriel was still alive. I hadn’t seen him since the night he was ripped from my arms, a night I often had nightmares about. I sent him letters whenever possible and every so often I would get one back. 
I could tell he had tried to send more, as every date on the ones that did make it through were skewed. The most recent one, dated two months ago, burned a hole in the pocket of my dress. The folds were so worn from reading  that I feared they may fall apart the next time I opened it. 
My love, 
I am alive and well, though my battalion has suffered great losses. More and more Illyrians are sent to the frontlines every day to take the place of the dead. There are times I wonder if a wide eyed recruit will ever take my place…
At night I lie in bed and dream of you lying next to me, your warmth. Or the way your hair looks sprawled in swirling over the green grass when you’re under me. The sound of your voice calling my attention. The softness of your hands. The night you came undone for me in the cabin.
 My only consolation is that when I look up at the night sky. I know you are looking at those same stars. And if what I’m doing is keeping you safe. Keeping you fed and swathed in those blue silks that drive me crazy. Then I will sleep in this tent and fight alongside my peers happily. My love is safe and warm because of me. 
I love you, and I will return to you. 
Yours eternally, 
Azriel
I fold the tattered parchment with gloved hands and tuck it securely into the pocket of my dress. The shouts of men and the clash of swords outside my tent drown out the peace I had struggled to preserve. 
Hybern’s army had marched on Velaris and while the border hadn’t been breached, my father decided it was unsafe to leave my mother and I there. My mother was sent to a camp with my father where he would watch over her, I was sent to Rhys’ camp.
 The flap of the tent is thrown open, my brother charges in wearing his leathers, his hair disheveled and a letter in hand. 
“What is it?” I stand upon seeing the worry gracing his face.    
Armies had been marching upon another camp a few miles away. If they had breached the encampment that would mean they were coming for us next. We would have just minutes to evacuate and find a safe place. 
“The men were able to hold the front lines,” he says, setting down his swords with a sigh that told me that there was still news to be revealed. 
“Then what is it?” I asked quietly, unsure of whether or not I wanted to know the truth he had to say. 
Violet eyes met my own, in them, a sorrow and worry I had not yet seen from my brother, “It’s Azriel.” he said. 
My heart stopped and my world quieted as I perched myself on a nearby chair, not trusting my legs to keep me upright. Not when my heart lay in the balance, the very reason I was alive.
“He was injured, severely. He may be dying y/n.” he said sadly, coming to stand before me. 
May be dying. Which meant he was alive, which meant there was still a chance. 
My head snaps up to him, a new fire in my gaze that no one had seen in six months. 
“Take me to him,” I ordered my brother as I stood to collect my cloak. 
“You’re asking me to take you, my sister, to the front lines. I won’t do it.” Rhys shakes his head. 
“I am going with or without you Rhys,” I say firmly, wrapping my cloak around my shoulders. 
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before picking his swords up again and strapping them to his sides. With my hood over my head and my brother's hand at my back we made our way out into the night. Once we reached the wards at the edge of the camp we winnowed to the encampment near the frontlines.  
Immediately as we walked through the rows of tents and campfires I could tell that these males had seen hell. All of them looked significantly worse than the males at the camp we had just come from. Most of them were caked in mud and blood, some were drunk on whatever filled their cups. All of them were loud and rowdy and most likely celebrating their last nights in this life.  
Rhys led me through the camp, until we arrived at a lonely tent in the center. It was large and from the outside I could practically smell Azriel. I bolted for the entrance and threw open the flaps, my heart racing, unsure if I would find him alive or dead. 
But there he was, breathing. Leaning against the back of his bed with a large bandage over his left thigh. He was awake and refreshingly himself, as if nothing was truly wrong and most importantly he was alive. 
I run to him throwing my arms around his neck, “Oh Azriel,” I coo breathing him in. 
“Y/n?” he says, his mind clearly still foggy. 
I pull back to cup his face, whoever had healed him has cleaned him up, the small cut above his eyebrow already starting to heal, “Az,” I breathe. 
His hand comes to cup my face, “How are you here? This can’t be real,” his eyes search my face as if to try and wake up from a dream. 
I place a kiss on his lips, “I’m real, I’m here,” I assure him as tears spill from my eyes. “They told me you were dying.” 
“I am well, it was a deep cut but the healers say I’ll be okay,” he assures me as his eyes continue to take me in. 
I let my eyes do the same, taking in every cut and bruise on him, even the patched holes in his wings no doubt from arrows piercing the beautiful, leathery flesh. 
“Faebane?” Rhys’ voice croons from the entrance of the tent as he watches us, it seemed that his nerves were also settled upon seeing Azriel well. 
“Yep,” Azriel said nonchalantly, but his eyes told the truth of how happy he was to see my brother, or maybe how relieved. 
“Hurts like a bitch doesn’t it?” Rhys chuckles stepping into the tent and closing the flap. 
My eyes widened at his causal tone, “How can you both be so docile about this? He could’ve died.” I exclaim, looking Azriel over once more in case I missed any lingering wounds. 
Azriel's chest rumbles with a chuckle, “Shhh my love. Everything will be alright.” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But what are you doing here? It isn’t safe.”
“The border of Velaris is almost breached,” Rhys started from behind me. “We couldn’t leave her and my mother there, it wasn’t safe.” 
“Mother is with father and I’m with Rhys. We found out you were injured and just a camp away and I asked him to take me to you.” I continue Rhys’ explanation. 
Azriel cuts Rhys a somewhat harsh look as if to say ‘why the hell would you take her somewhere so dangerous?’
“You needed to see each other,” Rhys explains further. “If anything were to happen to you and I didn’t let you two say goodbye, I would never forgive myself.”
Azriel’s shoulders softened in understanding before turning to me once more, “You have to go princess,” he said, eyes full of sorrow.
My breath hitches as I stumble back a little from where I sit next to him, “What? No, I won’t leave you,” I say resolutely.
He cups the side of my face, “Please it’s not safe here,” he eyes pleading as his voice falters. 
I go to argue but Rhys speaks up behind me, “He’s right y/n, It’s the most vulnerable camp we have.” my brother says, his words solemn. 
“I don’t care!” I exclaim turning back to brush Azriel’s hair from his face. “I’m not leaving him Rhys, we will be okay.”
Azriel’s eyes flare, “Look at me!” he shouts gesturing to his leg. “I can’t protect you here,” his voice is laced with frustration, not at my unwillingness to leave, but his inability to do the one thing he swore to always do, protect me. 
“Then I’ll die here with you!” I proclaim, fiercely. “If you cannot protect me, then you cannot protect yourself. Please Azriel, please don’t make me leave.” I cry lying down on his chest, gripping the leathers there, as if it might keep my brother from ripping me away.
“I can’t,” I sob as my words get caught in my throat. “I can’t lose you again I-” 
“Shhh,” Azriel coos, his hand stroking my hair as he pulls me into his chest. “You’ll stay here in my arms.” he assures me and I’m finally able to relax into his touch.  
“Y/n, I can’t stay here. I need to go back to my own troops and prepare them for tomorrow,” my brother said softly, not trying to persuade me to return, but to inform me of the increasing danger.
“I understand,” I say standing to say goodbye.
“I’ll come back for you tomorrow morning, before the troops march,” he said, his words tinged with sorrow. 
I take in the sight of my brother looking defeated, a look I so rarely saw on him. It broke me to realize I might never see him after this. If the enemy marched on this camp there would be no one to keep Azriel and I from the slaughter given his injury. 
“Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I threw myself onto my beloved brother. 
Rhys said his goodbyes to Azriel, both of them not wanting to get too deep, say too much, for fear of manifesting defeat on both sides. When my brother exited the tent I took my spot next to Azriel on his large cot and waited for either death or the sunrise.  
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Later in the night, the raucous from outside got louder and louder disturbing my sleep. When I raised my head from Azriel’s chest I found that his eyes remained open and fixed on the tent entrance, like he was ready to challenge anyone who dared to walk through despite his inability to walk. 
“Hey,” I smiled weakly, my voice shaky from sleep. 
“Hey,” he smiled back, pushing a hair from my face. 
I moved back the blanket to check the gash in his thigh. Lifting the white bandage, I could see that it was almost completely soaked through, if I left it that way he would never get better.
I throw my legs over the edge of the cot and search for my discarded cloak, “You need fresh bandages or you’ll get an infection. I’m going to go get you some.” 
“Y/n  don’t you dare leave this tent. There are war bound men out there looking for one last lay before they leave this world,” he pleads, reaching for my hand that’s just out of reach. 
“I’ll only be a moment Az,” I assure him before raising my hood and slipping out of the tent. 
I can hear him shouting my name as I exit, but his protests are quickly drowned out by the sound of drunken men. Azriel was right, these men were drunk and not in their right mind. But if that wound got infected and he died I would never forgive myself. So I kept my head down walking towards the medic tent I passed on my way in, ignoring rambunctious cheers and stumbling men. 
The light of the medic tent comes into view and relief washes over me swiftly before the rug is pulled out from under me and I run smack into a broad chest.
“Well what do we have here?” laughs a drunken male. I can smell the sweat and alcohol on him. 
“Looks like we have a little birdy who lost her way,” laughs a male from my right.
My feet take two steps back before bumping into another mountain of a male. His hand comes up to rip the hood off my head, if all three of them recognized me as their princess they didn’t show it. My pulse began to race as I frantically looked for a way out of this hell. 
“What’s a beauty like you doing out here?” crooned the male behind me.
I put on a stoic face, “I’m leaving if you’ll excuse me,” I state, but before I can even take my first step I feel large hands grasping my shoulders holding me in place.
“Whoever bought you for the night must’ve paid a pretty penny,” jested the man to my right. 
“What do ya say darlin? Are you gonna give these brave men a proper send off?” the man behind me says low into my ear as he grabs me around the middle, plucking me off the ground.
I start kicking trying to break free, my screamed muffled by his hand over my mouth. All the trashing in the world wasn’t enough to break their hold as the other two males descended upon me, as if they were willing to take me right there in the middle of camp. 
“I’ll thank you to take your hands off my princess,” drawled a voice from behind me. 
The eyes of the three men surrounding me went wide at whatever figure stood behind us, all three of them scurrying off to gods knew where. I turn slowly to face whoever my rescuer was, and I’m met with a mountain of sheer muscle and bright red siphons. 
“Cassian!” I cried running to throw my arms around the burly warrior, I hadn’t seen him in over a year. 
He hugs me tighter, the kind of bear hug only he could provide. It was clear to me that he missed me just as much as I had missed him. When he releases me he bends down to cup my face, and wipe away the tears I didn’t know had fallen. 
“Princess, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“Rhys brought me here but he’s gone now, he’s gone back to his own camp but he’ll be back tomorrow,” I say as Cassian continues to wipe away the fresh tears, this time tears of happiness and not fear.
Cassain stands up as if to assess for danger before tossing an arm around me, “Stay with me, I’ll keep you safe. Where is Azriel? I was told he was injured,” he asks, remaining vigilant.  
“He’s okay, I was just getting him fresh bandages,” I report, pointing Cassian towards the medic tent. 
“He let you leave his tent?!” he balks corralling me inside the tent. 
“Uh, no. Not really,” I laugh nervously. 
He rolls his eyes and grabs a few armfuls of bandages before shoving them into my arms. We weave through drunken men who do a good job of staying at least three feet away from me, no doubt seeing The Lord of Bloodshed trailing me. 
I throw open the flap of Azriel’s tent, running to his side at once. 
“Oh thank the mother,” he sighs in relief upon seeing me. 
I laugh at his fussing and begin dressing his wound, “Look who I found,” I say nodding my head to where Cassian stands behind me.
“I believe I found you,” Cassian corrects me, sheer amusement in his voice. 
“Cass!” Azriel beams as his brother gives him an affectionate smack on the shoulder. 
“Brother you look a little worse for wear,” Cassian chuckles looking at the wound I was currently cleaning.
“I’ve been better,” Azriel winces as I wrap the wound in a clean bandage.
“I heard what happened and came as soon as I could. Ran right into your princess here, causing trouble as usual,” the warrior chortles beside me making me roll my eyes. 
“What?” Azriel asked, more alert than he previously was. 
“You were right, the men out there are assholes,” I scoff, tying off the fresh bandage. 
“Did they touch you?” he inquired, his eyes ablaze. 
“Az it’s fine Cass was there,” I assure him placing a hand on his shoulder feeling the palpable tension there, like he was ready to pounce.
“Y/n did they put their hands on you?” he asks again, this time more unyielding than before. 
“Yes but look at me, I'm fine!” I say with an exasperated sigh. 
Azriel’s eyes flit to Cassian as he extends his hand to his brother, like he needs support. 
“Cassian help me up,” he orders, already scooting to the edge of the cot.
“Azriel don’t you dare!” I shout smacking his chest. “Enough with the territorial, Illyrian nonsense! You’re injured, you’re going to get yourself killed!” 
The shadowsingers body slumps back into bed in defeat with a huff, clearly upset he couldn’t pummel the shit out of a couple of lowly males who weren’t worth it in the first place. 
Cassian’s chuckle reverberated through the tent, “Good to see you two picking up right where you left off,” he joked, remembering all the times we had similar quarrels. 
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It was the early hours of morning, and while the sun was still hiding behind the mountains, it would be rearing its ugly head soon enough. The partying and cheering from outside the tent had died down. Men either passing out drunk or choosing sleep over thoughts of what might happen tomorrow.
Cassian snored softly in the corner of the tent in the chair he took up. He had elected to stay behind and watch over us at Azriel’s request and I was smart enough to not argue with two Illyrians. 
I layed on Azriel’s chest, waiting for sleep to claim me but it never came. Sleep didn’t find Azriel as well, his hand twirling through the strands of my unbound hair as we sat in silence. 
“You know what kept me alive out there on that battlefield after I was injured?” Azriel whispered into the night. 
“A healer that I’ll be paying a very handsome bonus to?” I laugh squeezing my arms around him a bit.
“No, you” he said seriously rubbing my shoulder 
“Me?” I gawk, sitting up so I could look him in the eye. 
“Yes, you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead.  “When I was downed they thought I was dead. Horses and men clamored over me. It was all so loud, such a blur but then I closed my eyes and there you were.” he said looking at the canopy of the tent, as if remembering the event.
“It was a memory from the first time I saw you, before I even knew who you were. You were standing in the snow waiting for Rhys and your mother and there was snow all over your hair. It was the first snow of the year and you were entranced just like you always are.” He chuckles, pulling me closer. “But I knew then and there that I had to open my eyes. Had to get up. Even if it was just to see your face one more time, kiss your lips, tell you I love you. I woke up in this tent reeling from it. I could’ve sworn you were here, in the vision I felt your touch. And then hours later you storm in here with your fussing and worrying.” he says. 
I feel a tear roll down my face as I cup his face, pulling his gaze from the canopy to me. I pulled his letter out of my dress pocket, the paper flopping about from how many times it had been folded and unfolded. 
“I kept this letter with me every single day. I must’ve read it a hundred times, hells I might even have it memorized.” I laugh, shaking the paper in my hands. “I never once gave up hope that I would see you again. No matter what happens after tonight I still won’t give up hope. I know I’ll find you again.”
Azriel chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine, “I’d crawl home to you if I had to princess,” he says resolutely. 
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I wake the next morning to the sound of men moving about outside the tent and an empty cot. The covers before me are still disheveled from where Azriel slipped out from under me. I threw the blankets off the bed and pulled my cloak from where I set it last night, fastening it to my shoulders. 
When I toss open the flaps of the tent I’m momentarily blinded by the bright sun before the sight of men collecting their weapons and armor come into focus. My eyes darted frantically for a trace of Azriel, surely he couldn’t have gone far, surely he wasn’t going to fight today. 
“Azriel!” I call out roaming around looking for a flash of a blue siphon. 
Heavy footsteps come up behind me grabbing my arm and I turn around to be met with Cassian. I looked back to the tent and realized he had been keeping watch outside. 
“Cass, where is he?” I ask him, but all I’m met with is a heavy gaze from Cassian. 
“Y/n?” calls a voice from behind me and I turn to see my father, mother and brother walking towards us.  
My mother runs over to me taking me into her arms and holding me close. It was clear to me that they had found Rhys and instantly questioned why I wasn’t under his care. 
“Thank the gods,” my mother breathed taking in my unharmed appearance. 
“You smell like that Illyrian brute,” my father sneered and I knew right away he ment Azriel. 
“He could have been dying,” I reply with equal venom, my gaze narrowing at the man who went through such great lengths to keep us apart. 
“Of course, why do you think I sent him to the frontlines again today?” he scoffed, already turning his attention to the hordes of men preparing for battle. 
My blood turned to ice in my veins and my heart plummeted. 
“What?” I cried looking at Rhys who wore a solemn look on his face. “Rhys, you knew?” 
My brother lets out a shaky breath, “I knew before we even arrived last night. When he tried to get you to leave I used daemati to tell him he was being sent to the front lines. He knew it would be the last time he ever saw you.” he confessed.
He knew. 
Haste clouds my mind and I turn to run in the same direction with the rest of the men, my father and brother joining their ranks without another word. My mother catches me around the shoulders and pulls me into her embrace as my knees hit the muddy ground beneath us. 
“No, no, no, no no!” I scream trying to run to the front, as if I could keep Azriel from death myself. 
“The battle is not yet over sweetheart, he may still live,” My mother coos stroking my hair. 
“He was injured mother,” my words come out as sobs as I cling to her cloak. 
“Have faith,” she pleads, kneeling on the ground with me, trying to calm me as best she can. 
“Azriel,” I cry. “My Azriel.” 
I give into my mothers embrace and after a while she ushers me toward a tent. She wipes my face with a cool towel trying to calm my swollen eyes, but it’s no use. Every war cry, and ear rupturing blast feels like the one that takes Azriel’s life. Each one sends me back into a mess of shallow breaths and tears. 
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Only when the battle cries fade, and the blasts of siphons and raw power cease do my tears stop. Soldiers and Illyrains come filtering back to the camp, some whole, some being carried by their peers. My brother and Cassain are the first to find us. Rhys was unharmed, but Cassian was wheeled to a healer immediately. Thankfully, she claimed he would be alright.
I took to the masses, weaving through men making their way back occasionally running into some as my eyes were focused on the skies. Searching amongst the hordes of Illyrians flying in. If Azriel was anywhere it would be there. 
“Azriel!” I shouted, my voice going hoarse from the screaming I had been doing. 
More and more Illyrians fly overhead, not one of them resembling my Azriel. If he was amongst them he would see me standing out like a sore thumb amongst the rabble, going against the grain of everyone before me.   
“AZRIEL!” I call out even louder, cupping my hands around my mouth as if it will help. 
“Y/N!” 
I hear my voice being called, not from the skies, but from the ground. My eyes snap to the crowds before me before I see a pair of wings over the top of a million heads. 
“AZRIEL?!” I call out moving in the direction of the voice that called to me. 
Then I see him, my Azriel. The wound on his leg is split open and his wings are pierced with a dozen arrows which explains his inability to fly. But he’s there, and he’s whole, and alive.
“Y/n!” he calls out to me again. 
I pick up the skirts of my dress running to him, my shoulders bumping into all the men I weave around. I jump into his arms feeling him pick me up, pulling me impossibly close. 
“Oh Az,” I breathe running a hand through his hair as my feet hit the ground again, his eyes assessing me for any injury. “My love, I thought I would never see you again,” I cried. 
His thumbs wipe away my tears as he cups my face, “Death, nor a thousand evil men could keep me from you,” he smiled before pulling me into his chest. 
As we hold each other, the chaos around us fades into the background. For a moment, time stands still, and all that matters is that we are together. He was here, in my arms and he was alive. Both of us were, and there were many more years ahead of us. Many, many more years. 
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Epilogue: third person pov
Rhysand and Feyre stood in the living room of the townhouse. The world outside was near silent as Velaris slept, having spent the day celebrating solstice. Even the faelights in the home seemed to have dimmed. Members of the Inner Circle worked to clean the dessert plates off the table where they had their magnificent feast.
“And that’s their story,” Rhys finished saying to his mate, rubbing her shoulder as they continued to admire the scene before them.
On the large couch before them y/n was asleep on top of an even sleepier Azriel, his arms, legs and wings all but draping off the edges just to keep her comfortable. 
When Feyre stumbled into the adorable scene it had occurred to her that she had never heard the story of how the two came to be. Rhysand was more than happy to tell her the tale of forbidden love and near death experiences. 
“They’ve been through so much,” Feyre said, leaning into Rhysand’s touch. 
“They truly have,” Rhys nods, pressing a kiss to his mate's temple. “But now they get to eat too much turkey every solstice and skip out on dish duty so I think it worked out okay.” he chuckles. 
Feyre slaps him on the chest playfully but laughs right along with them watching as the pair lounges on the couch, mouths open and completely and utterly relaxed. The High Lord and Lady turn from the living room to rejoin the rest of their family in the kitchen. There would be time to make fun of the princess and the shadowsinger tomorrow. 
They had all the time in the world.
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wonustars · 4 months
Text
𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ?
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𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 26.3k (im sorry)  𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+)
𖦹 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!
𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate.  𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.
𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, stoner!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, forced proximity, joshua likes to try and keep jeonghan humble, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse and also a complete asshole in the beginning, joshua is a wise man when he gets high, there is lots of figting (like a lot), alludes to reader coming from wealth but not formally mentioned.
𖦹 note: THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR PATIENCE.. i'm sorry it took so long T-T fjhkajfhakf. I would like to thank my two beta-readers @gyuswhore and @drunk-on-dk. ILY GUYS THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR HELP, this fic really wouldn't be what it is now if it weren't for them. also tagging @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu and @highvern, cam was the one who gave me the idea for stoner!jh so everyone thank her hehe, they had to listen to me complain about this fic multiple times on discord... (ily all) 😢 i love this story a lot and i hope you will all enjoy it 🤗!! - anna ♡ p.s. 🇵🇭 anon if u see this... huwag mo susugurin yung bahay ko, ito na po hehehe 😁!
smut tags/warnings under the cut!
𖦹 smut tags: dom!jh, sub!reader, afab!reader, virgin!reader, oral (f and m receiving), breast play, mutually intoxicated sex (weed), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, corruption kink, shotgunning, multiple smut scenes (3), jeonghan's a munch, petnames (for reader: baby, angel, sweetheart, princess/for jeonghan: hannie).
𖦹 warnings: mentions of neglectful parents, family trauma, verbal abuse is mentioned but nothing too bad, unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol, panic attacks, drug use (just weed, nothing crazy), if i miss any warnings or smut tags please let me know!
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Prologue. 
You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.
It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do. Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him. 
“What the fuck is your problem?” he spits at you, eyes cold as ice. 
Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad. You haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few minutes ago you were ready to start fresh, beginning a new semester at the university you transferred to from your hometown.
Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest. 
“I said what the fuck is your problem?” he repeats himself, the fire in his eyes glinting against the light of the sun. 
“I’m sorry, I tripped and—” you begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your excuses. 
“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me,” he seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks. 
Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away. 
“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt,” you scoff at him. Unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger. 
Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you stained his clothes.  His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is?
“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not leading anywhere. 
You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes; he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful? 
“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.
“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” he shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy. 
Little did you know it wasn’t going to be your last encounter with Yoon Jeonghan. 
I.
With desperation you scour multiple sites, looking for a roommate to stay with for the time being. Your move was abrupt, and you didn’t have time before you left home to look for a place to stay. For the past week, you’ve been staying at an Airbnb, hoping you’d be able to find a place soon. 
It was about one in the morning when the gods had finally decided to answer your prayers. A listing from a student attending your university was looking for a roommate to split rent with. As you read the listing, prices, and location, everything ticked all your boxes. Releasing a heavy sigh of relief, you message the person who posted the listing, asking if they were still looking for a roommate. 
You: Hi, is this still available?
 I’m ok with the rent prices and I can move in ASAP. 
Hanniehae: 
yah heres the address. 
come by tmrw at 2. we can talk about the details in person. 
Is it dumb of you to move into an apartment without asking any other questions? Yes, it was. But you were desperate to move out of the Airbnb you were staying in. The fees were starting to add up and you couldn’t afford to stay there anymore. Plus this is a person who’s going to the same school as you, they can’t be that bad…right? 
It was that bad. 
As soon as the door to your potential future apartment opens, you come face-to-face with the man who was yelling at you about a coffee stain just a few days ago. 
His long shoulder-length blond hair is a little messy, his eyes tired, like he had just gotten out of bed. It made you scoff, it's two p.m. but he was sleeping? The other part of your brain is wondering why he looked so good when he had just rolled out of bed. You would complain or at least make a snarky comment but you’re stuck in a predicament where you needed to find a place to stay fast. 
“So you’re stalking me now?” he scoffs, his eyebrows scrunching with confusion and a bit of anger. 
“Stalking you? You must think you’re special.” You roll your eyes at him, a sneer already on your face. “No, dumbass. I’m here because I’m looking for an apartment.” 
“I don’t think it’s very nice of you to call your future roommate a dumbass. My name is Jeonghan by the way.” Jeonghan smirks at you, the gears already turning in his head. 
He didn’t realize you were the one who was inquiring about the extra room last night. This has all gotten a lot more amusing for him since you’ve already somehow found a way to get on his bad side. It’s looking like karma was on his side for today, and he couldn’t be more pleased. 
“No. I must’ve gotten the wrong number.” You try to deny your fate, looking at the door to see that it is indeed the right place. You curse under your breath as you glance back and forth between the complex number and Jeonghan’s smug face. 
“Well, you certainly didn’t. Here look at the texts, Y/n.” He shoves his phone in your face, and your first name flashes across the screen, proving that he was the person you were texting last night. 
The back of your eyes feel as though they're burning, why am I always bumping into this asshole? You think to yourself, sighing. 
“If you don’t want me to live here then fine. I’ll find somewhere else,” you bluff, your pride still standing strong even though you need a place and you need one now. Pretending like you’re about to walk away, Jeonghan grabs your arm before you can go too far. 
“No. Whatever I guess, past is past. I need someone to split rent with, and you obviously need somewhere to stay so…” He shrugs as he holds onto your wrist, and you watch how his long and slender fingers wrap around it. The grip he has on you is firm but yet so delicate at the same time.
“Fine. Only because I really can’t find somewhere else, but once I do, I promise I'll be out of your hair,” you mutter, already not liking the idea of this setup. 
Jeonghan grins at you, relieved. He was happy to have someone to split the rent with, but what he’s more excited about is the fact that he’ll be able to piss you off in closer proximity. You seemed easy to anger and luckily for you, it’s Jeonghan’s favourite pastime to piss people off. There’s something about the way you react when you’re annoyed that he finds so amusing, at least you won’t be boring to live with, he thinks to himself. 
“You can move in today if you’d like. There’s nothing much to talk about, I've already listed everything in the posting. Don’t go in my room and I won’t go in yours. That’s all,” he says as he realizes he’s still holding onto your wrist. You become aware of it too, pulling back your hand quickly, your face reluctant but you know you can’t say no. 
“Fine. I’ll be back with all my things.” You look at him up and down once again, his sleep shorts and shirt baggy on him, but somehow he pulls it off. Especially the long hair, it makes you wonder what secrets it could possibly hold. 
“I don’t need help moving in by the way,” you add. 
“Who said I was gonna help you?” he chuckled, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he stared at you, raising an eyebrow. 
You’ve had enough of his egotistical bullshit, flashing him your middle finger as you walk towards the elevator. 
II.
As you're lugging your belongings into the apartment, you watch Jeonghan leisurely manspread on the couch, watching an episode of Spongebob.  You can’t help but roll your eyes as he acts so nonchalant as you heave your fifty-pound suitcase into the room. Then again, you did say you didn’t need his help, so who’s really at fault right now? 
Not bringing a whole lot with you, just the essentials, you opted to purchase everything when you found a place to stay. Thankfully, you were able to find a place now rather than later, all because of Jeonghan. As much as you hate him, if it weren’t for him you’d still be paying for the overpriced Airbnb. 
With a slam, you lay out your suitcase that contains practically your whole life. Conveniently enough, the place came fully furnished, so you didn’t need to buy a new bed and desk. 
As you unpack, you reminisce on all the memories your items hold. You really didn’t want to leave your city but you knew it was for the best. The toxicity of living with them did impact your mental health considerably. Starting fresh in a new city, a different school; it just seemed like the best thing to do at the time. Now you just hope that in the future you will appreciate the hard decision you had to make.
It was around eleven p.m. by the time you stepped out of your new room, and you noticed that the devil reincarnated was long gone from his spot on the couch. It wasn’t until you got closer to the kitchen that you heard the sounds of a headboard banging against the wall, and that was all you needed to go straight back into your room. 
“Jeonghan! Please…” You hear a woman’s voice moan. 
Running back to your room, you shut the door quickly behind you, you're mortified, to say the least. You barely know Jeonghan, and not even twenty-four hours into moving in, he’s already having guests over? A scoff can’t help but leave your throat, at this point, you shouldn’t even be surprised, Jeonghan definitely seems like the type to fuck around, even if his roommate was home. 
As quickly as possible you take out your headphones, not wanting to hear the obnoxiously loud sounds the girl in Jeonghan’s bed was making. 
“It can’t be that good,” you mumble to yourself, eyebrows scrunched like you were in deep thought. He just can’t be, you add to your thoughts, not wanting to give Jeonghan credit for actually being enjoyable in bed. 
With the whole world shut off, you head to the kitchen, craving a warm cup of ramen and some diet coke. The moment your electric kettle began to boil, you could feel the floorboards move under you slightly. The presence of a body behind you made you stiffen, even though you knew exactly who it was. 
Not trying to give him attention, you continue to make your food, pretending you can’t hear anything but the music blaring through your headphones. That was until they were snatched off your head, the abrupt action making you jump slightly. 
“What do you want?” you sigh, not even bothering to look behind you. Eyes still trained on the water that was filling your ramen cup, making sure it didn’t pass the fill line. 
“I called out your name like ten million times, you didn’t answer,” Jeonghan announced, but you don’t care. If he’s going to act like he’s the only person living here, then so will you. 
“Why would I?” You turn around to look at him now, his face a little too close for comfort. “I was under the impression you were busy with your visitor.” 
“I was, she left. I guess you didn’t hear her.” Jeonghan shrugs, placing the headphones he stole from you onto the countertop. 
Jeonghan has always been the type to get bored easily, not wanting to prolong a usual visit, it was better for him to fuck, clean up, then have them leave. No one he’s slept with has ever stayed the night and he preferred it that way. It’s better when it’s casual with no feelings involved. 
In short, Jeonghan was a grade-A asshole, especially in your books. A man who doesn't care for sincerity, only convenience. 
“Whatever, if you’re going to fuck a random chick while I’m here, you could at least have the decency to be a little quieter,” you grit, your cheeks heating with embarrassment and anger. 
Even if you didn’t like Jeonghan, you wouldn’t have done what he did, not that you’ve ever had sex, but still. 
Jeonghan couldn’t help but chuckle, the face you made when you got angry really amused him. Something about the way your cheeks would flush and your eyebrows scrunch. Pushing your buttons brought a rush in him that he just couldn't explain, he just wanted to see how far he could go to get you all worked up. 
“Well, it wouldn’t have bothered you if it was you who was in my room instead.” Jeonghan hovers over you once more, the height difference settling within you once again. He lets out the most annoyingly smug chuckle, one that makes your fists ball and your cheeks turn bright red. 
“Flirting with me won’t get you anywhere,” you spit at him, not wanting to play into his trap. 
“I’m not flirting, sweetheart, I’m only telling you the truth,” Jeonghan says with a sing-song voice as he walks away to go back into his room. 
III. 
It has been a few weeks since that last incident, and although you hate how Jeonghan continues to bring people over, you’ve learned to tune it out. The situation isn’t ideal, but all you can think about is the fact that you finally have a place to stay. 
Being his roommate felt like hell on Earth sometimes, the constant need to pester him about something different each day was starting to push you to your breaking point. Jeonghan was a horrible slob, only half decent enough to put away his own dishes. You tend to find his belongings all over the common area, sometimes it's a piece of clothing that couldn’t possibly belong to either of you.
A pink lace bra lying across the couch was pretty much your breaking point. You were so fed up with his constant lack of care for a common space. Thinking it was left from the night before, you decide it’s time to confront him about the boundaries he has yet to stay within. 
“Jeonghan I swear to god if I find another item from one of your flings I will—” You begin to march up to his room, not even bothering to knock this time. The anger begins turning from a bubbling simmer into a full-on rolling boil. 
Before you could even finish your sentence, you're met with the image of a topless girl hovering over Jeonghan, kissing him like he’s the cure for old age. They both tear apart from each other to look at you, your face resembling the scream by Edvard Munch. This is definitely one of the worst and embarrassing moments you’ve experienced in your life. 
“Oh my god! Sorry! Oh my god, I didn’t know, Sorry! Sorry!” You’re rambling out of embarrassment at this point. 
You hurriedly try to close the door, but before that you fling the bra into his room, flying across and hitting the back of the girl's head as she tries to cover up. 
“What the fuck!” she screams, and it feels like the more you stay, the worse the situation gets. 
“My bad!” you yell from the outside of his room, ready to scurry off into the only place you can stand to be in at that moment. 
As you headed back to your room, you covered yourself in all your pillows and blankets, trying to recover from the embarrassment you felt. It was on you for not knocking before you came in, but you had just been so sick of Jeonghan’s habits, that you were too mad to even think twice. The regret begins to overwhelm you, and you can’t help but scream into your pillows. 
“Of course, he had to just be hooking up with someone. Thank god it hadn’t gone any further.” You mumble into your pillow, trying to cover the fact that your whole face resembles a bright red tomato. 
Before you could spiral any deeper into thoughts of jumping off your balcony, your door bursts open to reveal your very own personal demon, one that took form as your roommate. You don’t even turn around, your head still buried in your pillow, instead opting to flip him off for putting you through a traumatizing situation. 
“So we’re into voyeurism now?” he teases you, laughing maniacally at your sulking figure. 
He strides over to the right side of your bed, hovering over where you lay. Words of protest spill out your mouth as you feel him turn you over so your body is facing upwards. Cheeks still flushed from a few minutes ago, you look at him through the slits of your fingers, your palms covering the rest of your red face. 
“Just leave me be. I did not mean to catch you guys in the act.” You couldn’t even make eye contact, your words muffled by your hands. 
“Y/n…if you wanted to join you could’ve just asked. You know I could never say no to two of you at once,” Jeonghan snickers, his smirk permanently plastered on his face. 
Angry at his vulgar statement, you fling upright, your face red with anger instead of embarrassment. As you sit up, you begin to take a better look at his frame. His shirt was nowhere to be found, his boxers peeking out of his grey sweats. You didn’t expect him to be so toned, his arms not extremely muscular, but you could tell he worked out at least a little. His height allows his abdomen to be in your line of sight with how you're sitting on your bed. The gulp leaves your throat involuntarily, betraying your facade of anger. A part of you curses him silently for being so attractive, which is something you never want to admit to him out loud. 
“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.” You roll your eyes, trying to keep eye contact with him, even when his abs are right in front of you. 
“Next time, put a sock on your door or something. Or at least stop having your hookups leave their shit around the apartment!” An arm extending, motioning over to the living room where you had found the aforementioned bra. 
“Okay, okay, fine. Jesus Y/n, you know this wouldn’t have happened if you just had knocked.” He copies your actions, rolling his eyes back at you. His nonchalant tone never leaves, even in a situation like this. It angered you how careless he is, Jeonghan never cares about anything, and every day you wonder how far he can keep this act up. 
“I wouldn’t have to do all that if you two weren’t so careless!” You raise your voice at him, standing up from your bed. The anger shoots through your veins like bullets, how can he be the offended one in this situation? Jeonghan’s audacity never ceases to amaze you. 
“Why do you always have a stick up your fucking ass? Do you not get laid or something?” Jeonghan’s fists ball, he’s equally pissed now, appalled at how you’re raising your voice at him right now. “I see how it is Y/n, you know, maybe if you got as much as I did, you would learn to loosen up a bit. It was one bra.” 
“You’re unbelievable Yoon Jeonghan.” You scoff, offended by his words. It’s not fair that this is the conclusion, even though he’s right, you haven’t gotten laid, not for twenty-two years to be exact. “If I had known that you were this much of a terrible roommate, I wouldn’t have agreed to stay.” 
“If I had known that you were such a stuck-up bitch, I wouldn’t have agreed to let you live here.” He matches your energy, turning on his heels after, not even letting you sputter out a rebuttal, the sound of the door slamming echoing throughout your room. 
You stood there in shock, agitated. The silence of your room allows his words to sink into you. I’m the bitch? He’s fucking ridiculous, I wouldn’t even be acting this way if it weren’t for him. Eyebrows scrunched in frustration, you recall the argument you two had, and what frustrated you, even more, is the way conversations you have with him can turn from one to a hundred so quickly. In all honesty, it gave you whiplash dealing with him. 
Jeonghan’s blood pressure is at an all-time high. How dare you enforce all these rules onto him, when he’s the one who agreed to let you live with him in the first place.
“Past is past, yeah fucking right,” he mutters under his breath as he sits on his bed, thinking back to the day you showed up at his doorstep. 
The grudge he held for you spilling coffee on his shirt, that he could get over. But your constant need to dictate his actions? Hell no. He can’t let that slide, especially when he was living in this apartment first. 
Jeonghan can’t help but run his fingers through his hair, the stress of arguing with you was catching up to him. Something about you and the way you acted towards him gets him heated so quickly. The effect you have on his mood didn’t make sense to him, especially because he considers himself to be a generally careless person. 
Maybe it was your face or the way your cheeks would flush when you would raise your voice at him. Or maybe the fact that your small frame looked so harmless as you argued with him, the way your hands would ball into tiny fists. Part of him is amused at your anger, until you start to strike a nerve, that's when he begins to lose all self-control. He can’t even remember the last time he has fought with someone like this, you really just know how to rile him up. 
IV. 
Since that argument with Jeonghan, the two of you have learned to stay out of each other's way. It wasn’t like either of you went out of your way to talk to one another before what happened, but there was definitely a thicker layer of distaste now. 
There are times when he would see you cooking in the kitchen, opting to stay in his room only after you had cleared the space of your presence. It wasn’t one-sided either, you tend to only leave your room to cook or head to class. Not bothering to even spare Jeonghan a second glance. 
Not only was there less clutter in the common spaces, it wasn’t completely spotless, but at least he was trying to be more mindful. What surprised you the most was that he didn’t bring people over as often anymore, opting to go out late instead. There were mornings when you were forced to face him, passing by him as you left for class, only to realize he was coming home from being out all night. 
You hear the door beep as you get ready to put on your shoes. Jeonghan’s figure is entering your peripheral vision as he steps through to the mudroom. Pretending like he isn’t there, you put on your coat and mitts, leaving the apartment to walk to your next class.
The weather had gotten considerably colder since you first moved into the apartment. Snow was starting to fall to the ground rapidly, the temperature dropping to a whopping negative 20 degrees Celsius. You were concerned, considering you walk to school, but a little snow has never stopped you. And you simply can’t afford to skip any lectures. 
As you make your way to school, you admire how your new city is beginning to turn into a winter wonderland, the people around you all bundled up for the cold weather, as well as the snow that was sticking to the tree branches and bushes. Most people would curse at the weather, but you felt appreciative of all the little things, especially knowing you wouldn’t have been able to experience them in your home city. 
“Well, don’t you just look like a cheerful snowman, all bundled up!” Seungkwan notes on your appearance, watching as you sit beside him for your digital marketing class. 
“Good morning to you too, Kwan,” you roll your eyes at his remarks, your cheeks and nose still red from the cold. 
Meeting Seungkwan this term was probably the only reason you are still in this class. Not only did he help you improve your comprehension of the class material, but he was also just a joy to be around. His spunky personality shows through even in the most unpredictable situations. Sometimes you wonder why he hasn’t thought about going into law, his urge to argue with the professor during lecture always gives you secondhand embarrassment. But at the same time, you can’t help but admire his extroverted personality.
“Any news on your roommate? I don’t even know why you continue to live with him Y/nie,” Seungkwan shakes his head.“If I were you I would’ve moved out after the first incident.” 
“Well, I would, but there’s literally nowhere else to stay. So I kinda have to suck it up or I’ll be homeless,” you sigh, readying your things to head to the dining hall. The grumble in your stomach starts to grow louder with each passing minute. 
Seungkwan can only sigh, pitying your situation, especially because from what you’ve told him, your roommate seems to be a total asshole. 
Within a few minutes, the two of you reach the dining hall, quickly spotting two big heads arguing over the last piece of pepperoni pizza. 
“Kwon Soonyoung, I swear to good if you don’t hand over the last slice.” Seokmin’s eyes set ablaze, staring at the slice that Soonyoung doesn’t seem to want to relinquish. 
Every day since you met them, you wonder why Seungkwan thought it was a good idea to introduce them to you, especially because they both collectively share only one brain cell. 
“Or what Seok? I’m older than you. How about you respect your elders? I deserve it!” Soonyoung huffs, one hand gripping his tray, his other swatting around aimlessly in the air. 
They looked like two rabid animals circling around one helpless prey. Seungkwan sighs beside you, not in the mood to deal with his friend’s antics. Tired of hearing them fight over a measly slice of pizza, he tries to separate the two of them, and instead of rectifying the situation, it makes things worse. 
“Seungkwan gets out of here, it's between me and his greedy ass,” Soonyoung practically barks at the only person trying to make sure no one dies because of a slice of pizza. 
“I’m greedy?!” Seokmin points to himself in disbelief, and the look on his face shows how offended he really is. “How can I be greedy, I let you borrow my toothbrush this morning when you lost yours!” 
Oh, that's gross, you thought. But knowing Seokmin and Soonyoung, they’re the type of best friends that act like family. 
“Dude! You can’t just be yelling that out loud!” Soonyoung looks at him wide-eyed, coming closer to his best friend. The tray in his hand tipped over slightly, gravity causing it to almost slip off. Soonyoung is now more upset over his secret being revealed than the mediocre food that he was fighting over less than 30 seconds ago. 
Seungkwan sighs once more, taking the tray from Soonyoung’s hand so it doesn’t fall onto the floor. Then no one would get any pizza at all. 
As you watch them from a few steps back, you see the pepperoni pizza get restocked just behind them. The cooks observe the scene that has been unfolding with an unimpressed look in their eyes. It’s not every day that you see two idiots fight over something so trivial.  
“Okay fine I’m sorry, but you know their pizza is my favourite!” Seokmin apologizes.
“You two idiots need to stop fighting. They literally put out more, probably because they’re tired of hearing you guys argue!” You motion over to the fresh pizza. 
Dumb and dumber stare at each other for a millisecond, then back at the pizza, before speeding over to take enough slices for themselves. You and Seungkwan give each other an exasperated look, both of you questioning why you two are even friends with them in the first place. 
When the situation finally settled down, Seungkwan began grilling you about your roommate once more. He is so invested in your setup, and even more so because you haven’t even told him who you’re living with. It could really be anyone on campus. 
“Y/nie you never told us who you’re roommate is,” Seungkwan cuts off Seokmin and Soonyoung’s conversation about their favourite Pokemon. 
The three of them throw you curious looks, the spotlight now on you. 
“Oh, really?” You think back to when you first told Seungkwan about Jeonghan, you really didn’t think naming him would be vital information. Seungkwan thinks otherwise. “His name is Jeonghan? Maybe you guys know of him, he’s in our year, after all.” 
“Jeonghan? Like Yoon Jeonghan?” Seungkwan looks at you, his eyes practically bursting out of their sockets.
“We don’t just know of him, Y/nie,” Soonyoung adds, the grave look on his face indicating that maybe naming him was something you should’ve mentioned from the start. 
Seungkwan looks at both Seokmin and Soonyoung, his eyes going back and forth from the two of them to you. It’s like the three of them could communicate without any words. You knew their bond was strong, but you didn’t know it was to this extent.
“Y/n…” Seungkwan starts off, placing his hand over yours. “We’ve known him since we were in first year and…he’s definitely built a reputation for himself.” 
He nudges his head behind you, causing you to turn around. Jeonghan sits there with Joshua, the two of them laughing a few tables before yours. As you observed the two of them, you couldn’t help but notice how good-looking he was, especially when there was a genuine smile on his face. A girl was sitting beside him, her arms wrapped around his bicep like he was just going to disappear if he let go. You take note of the fact that she isn’t the same girl who you caught in his bedroom the week before. 
“So he’s a fuckboy? That’s it?” you snort, not really seeing the problem with that. It doesn’t matter to you anyway, it’s not like you would ever become romantically involved with him. 
“Well yes… but he’s also just not someone I think you should be around. You two live together, and if you got any closer with him, it just wouldn’t end well,” Seungkwan sighs, just wanting to warn you about Jeonghan and his womanizing ways. 
“His friend Joshua is pretty nice though,” Seokmin adds. “I don’t know why they’re friends but that’s just how they’ve been since we started school here.”
V.
The snow has gotten considerably thicker compared to when you first got to school. The snowbanks along the street start to hit you mid-calf, causing you to wonder if you should’ve taken a taxi home instead. Looking around, you realize that it never stopped snowing from this morning. The chilly weather and the new city experiences are not something you’re used to as someone who’s lived somewhere warm your whole life. 
Lights twinkling from shiny Christmas decorations that have yet to be taken down, the cold air that the snow brought along is constantly hitting you in the face. Your cheeks are rosy, your nose running, and the tote bag on your shoulder is constantly slipping off. As annoyed as you feel from all the overstimulation you’re experiencing, you can’t wait until you can just go home and rest. 
When you picked this city as your new place to live, you didn’t realize how much you romanticized the winter experience. It’s nothing like any of those Christmas hallmark movies you watched as a kid. 
As you walk back to your apartment, you think about what Seungkwan and the boys enlightened you on. The more you begin to learn about Jeonghan, the more you wonder if it was a good idea to move in with him in the first place. There isn’t any going back now, you’re pretty much stuck with him till you can find a place of your own.  
You don’t see much of him anyway, it’s not like you’ll be forced to be around him 24/7. 
“You know what Shua, she’s so infuriating. Not even my mom is up my ass like this.” Jeonghan scoffs.
Joshua decided to walk home with him before going back to his place. He quickly realizes that he regrets making that decision because even in the comfort of Jeonghan’s apartment, he still has to listen to him complain about his new housemate. 
“You don’t have a mom, Han,” Joshua rolls his eyes, he can’t keep listening to Jeonghan complain about the same things over and over again. 
“Exactly!” 
“She’s probably not even that bad, you’re always the type to overreact.” 
“Well if she just minded her own fucking business, I wouldn’t be complaining in the first place,” Jeonghan scoffs, running his hand through his hair in frustration. 
“Well maybe if you didn’t leave shit like your hookup’s bra in the living room, I wouldn’t be up your ass all the time,” you scowl, taking off your winter coat as you walk through the door. 
It’s a miracle that the two didn’t hear you come in; Jeonghan’s complaining was too loud for anyone to hear anything other than his voice. The moment you walked through the door, it was also the first thing you heard, causing you to roll your eyes as you took your boots off. All the excitement you had to get home is long gone. 
“Coffee girl has a point dude,” Joshua sides with you. 
“What the hell man, you’re my friend, not hers!” Jeonghan raises his voice, obviously offended that his best friend took the side of someone he considered his enemy. 
Joshua only chuckles at his best friend’s baffled expression, it’s not every day that he sees Jeonghan so easily affected by a girl. In almost every circumstance it was the other way around. 
“I am your friend but I don’t think I could ever live with you,” Joshua laughs. 
He has a point, you don’t think anyone would willingly decide to live with Jeonghan. Except for you. 
“Well I gotta go, the weather is continuing to get worse. See you around coffee girl.” Joshua flashes you his charming smile, patting your shoulder as he exits. 
“It's Y/n by the way!” you yell at him before the door fully closes. The small smile on your face reaches your eyes. 
It's quickly wiped off when you turn back to see Jeonghan giving you a death glare from across the living room. His strong forearms crossed as he taps his foot impatiently, almost like he’s waiting for an argument to start up again. 
“Now you’ve got Shua taking your side now?” Jeonghan sneers at you, lasers practically shooting out of his eyes with every move you make. 
“It’s not my fault Joshua has critical thinking skills,” you argue back. 
Every time you’re near Jeonghan, your blood pressure seems to spike. So much for that one week of peace, it’s obvious you’ve struck a new nerve with him. Before the argument could escalate even further you decide to just walk away.
 Retiring to your room, you finally change into some comfy clothes. The whole day had just been extremely tiring, and coming home to Jeonghan starting a new argument with you didn’t help. The moment you walk back out you know he will have something snarky to say, so instead you find solace in your own room for the rest of the night. 
You ponder about why your roommate from hell is the way he is. Does he have an allergy to being nice to people? Maybe he was dropped on his head as a baby? With all the sex he has you would assume he’d be a laid-back person, but his temperament proves you otherwise.
The obnoxious ringing of your alarm causes you to spring up from your bed. Eyes still droopy with sleep, you haphazardly reach for your phone on your bedside table. Blaming your bad mood and lack of motivation to wake up on the fact that Jeonghan was the last person you thought of last night. A part of you wishes you weren’t so eager at the beginning to enroll in classes at the beginning of the term, or else you wouldn’t be waking up at seven a.m. for an eight-thirty a.m. lecture. 
As you begin to check the notifications your eyebrows raise as you read the email sent by your university.
To all students at ____ University, 
Due to poor weather conditions and an upcoming blizzard, classes will be moved online until further notice. It is highly advised that all students are to stay indoors till the snowstorm passes. An email will be sent out with details on when in-person classes will resume. 
Thank you and stay safe, 
____ University’s Administration Team. 
“What the hell?” you blurt out in your still-dark room, the light of your screen reflecting onto your face. 
You fling the comforter off your body to look through the window of your room. As you peer out the glass you notice that the snow had gotten considerably higher overnight. While walking home yesterday, it didn’t register in your mind that the excessive snowfall was going to become this much of a problem. Not that you were complaining, this just meant you’re able to sleep in a little more. 
Jumping back into bed, you realize that because of the advisory to stay indoors, you’re going to have to be around Jeonghan for an unknown period of time. The thought of having to spend time holed up in your apartment with him doesn’t particularly excite you, if anything you’re dreading it. Ultimately, you decide that it’s a problem for your future self, lulling back into a much-needed deep sleep. 
It’s past mid-day when your body finally decides it’s time for you to wake up. The light peaking through your curtains blinds you. Your head is still fuzzy from the fact you overslept, you couldn’t help but crave a glass of water. 
As you untangle your limbs from your sheets, you enter the living room, only to be met with the sight of your roommate building Legos while watching an episode of Crayon Shin-Chan. It gives you whiplash, seeing him playing with Legos and watching cartoons. It’s a stark contrast from when you caught him making out with that girl in his bedroom. 
You decide to just ignore his presence, knowing that if either of you spoke it would just turn into an argument. 
“Had a good sleep Y/n? It’s practically past noon now,” Jeonghan speaks out, his back facing you as he continues to assemble what seems to be a ramen shop Lego set. You roll your eyes at his comment, continuing to fill up your glass with water. 
“Well I wouldn’t be so tired if I wasn’t dealing with your shit all the time,” you spit back, glaring at him over your shoulder.
Leaning back against the kitchen counter, you continue to observe Jeonghan playing building his legos, his slender fingers calculated with each and every step as he assembles them. The manual on his lap, while his long blond hair is tucked behind his ear. 
“You wouldn’t have to deal with my shit if you just minded your own business.” He acts unfazed, still working diligently, not even bothering to look up at you.
Why does he always have some type of rebuttal? It was like he was raised to argue with people. The more you think about it, you realize why Seungkwan has a certain distaste towards him. He would probably argue with Jeonghan more than you do. 
“And I wouldn’t have to mind your business if you didn’t disturb the peace by being so loud whenever you bring someone over.” 
A part of you wonders if in another universe you and Jeonghan actually got along, or maybe if he’s an asshole in every other universe too. 
“Whatever, I don’t bring anyone over anymore. So take what you can get,” Jeonghan sighs, still not caring enough to take his eyes off his work. 
Although you hate to admit it, he's right. Ever since that argument in your bedroom, he hasn’t brought anyone over. Which you're thankful for, but that still doesn’t excuse his stuck-up behaviour. 
You sigh, walking over to sit down next to him. Maybe this is his way of finding a middle ground, he’s probably just as tired from all the fighting as you are. One thing about you is that you know when to yield, and if this is Jeonghan’s way of trying to cause fewer fights with you, then so be it. Jeonghan is human too, so you’ll forgive him for now, especially since the fights haven’t really been one-sided either. 
“Thank you for that, I appreciate it,” you mumble, taking a look at his Lego manual, and helping him put some of the pieces together. 
For the first time that morning, Jeonghan looks up at you. You weren’t aware of his gaze as you continued to put blocks together, but he really took his time looking at you. The light shining through the windows caused your skin to glow. Your eyebrows scrunched in concentration, tongue slightly poking out. He finds you cute, he’ll admit, maybe one of the prettiest girls he’s seen so far in his life, and he’s met a lot of pretty girls. If it weren’t for all the disagreements, he wonders if you two would have actually gotten along and maybe even been more than roommates. 
“I’ll be better now, or at least I’ll try to,” he speaks up, eyes still focused on you. As you meet his gaze, you can see he truly meant it. It causes your breath to hitch, it was the first time you’ve seen him so serious, but in a positive way. A small smile forms along your lips, and you take out your hand, signalling for him to shake it. 
“Roommates? This could be a peace treaty of sorts.” 
“Okay, roommates. Also, I’m sorry for saying all those mean things about you, I can become an asshole when I’m angry,” he apologizes as he gives you a firm handshake. “Which is a shitty excuse, but still, I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you, and I’m sorry too,” you retract your hand, going back to building the miniature ramen shop. “It’s tiring having to argue all the time, I’m sure it was tiring for you too.” 
He chuckles, nodding his head in agreement, and it surprises you a little. It’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile from him since you moved in. It felt good to be on the same page with him, the arguing would’ve definitely caused you two to loathe each other until you finally decided to move out. 
“This calls for some type of celebration,” He declared, standing up abruptly to search through the fridge. 
Jeonghan comes back shortly with a bottle in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. You give him a confused look as he returns to his spot on the carpet. The amused and slightly mischievous glint in his eyes concerns you a little. 
As he removes the cork from the spine of the wine bottle, you get a good view of his strong forearms. You’re not sure why it was so mesmerizing to watch him do such a mundane task, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The veins in his arms become more prominent with each move he makes. Before you know it, he’s pouring you a glass and handing it over to you. 
“Wine? Really? It’s only 2 p.m.,” you give him a questioning look, you’re hesitant but you take the glass from him anyways. 
“Why not? We don’t have school tomorrow anyways,” he shrugs, placing the wine bottle down to take a sip from his own glass. 
You follow his actions, taking a sip of the red liquor, and feeling the liquid overcome your taste buds. Making a small sound of delight, you stare at him with wide eyes, showing him that you like the way it tastes. Jeonghan seems to know his way around wine, because, for someone who doesn’t indulge in drinking often, even you enjoyed what he handed you. 
“It’s good right?” he grins, clinking the side of his glass with yours. 
You giggle, taking another swig, allowing yourself to truly relax for the first time since you moved in. The buzz of the alcohol already takes effect the more you drink it, causing all your limbs to loosen up. 
If someone told you that you would be drinking wine and assembling Legos with Jeonghan a week ago, you would’ve laughed in their face. But now that it’s actually happening, you’re not opposed to hanging out with him like this again. 
Maybe in this universe, you and Jeonghan do get along. 
A couple hours and half a ramen shop later, you can start the really feel the effects of the alcohol. There wasn’t much talking between you and Jeonghan, only exchanging a couple words when you got stuck on a part of the build. His voice was soft and nurturing, patiently teaching you when the instructions were unclear. It was the first time you’d heard him so soft spoken, but maybe because every time you two were conversing it was through shouting. 
“Here, you just need to put this piece there, then it should look like the manual,” he mumbles, taking the platform from your hand to put the block in the right way. 
His fingers lightly graze yours as he takes it from your hands, the warmth of his touch making you blush slightly. The proximity of your face to his, plus all the wine you had in your system started to make you feel more flustered than normal. In regular circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have thought so hard about the small interactions you had with him while you two put the Legos together. But something was hanging in the air as you two shared this moment together, and you couldn’t really put your finger on it. 
“Oh okay… thanks,” you mumble as you continue on with the instructions. “When did you get so fond of Legos anyway?”
“My dad and I used to build them together when I was younger,” he confides with a sad smile across his face. 
Jeonghan doesn’t really like to indulge in his home life much, but the wine in his system caused his walls to crumble a bit. Every brick he laid to put his feelings behind slowly came undone with each sip he took from his glass. 
“He felt bad that I had to grow up without a mom, so he liked to bond over this,” he continues as he motions over to the plastic blocks in his hands. 
Your mouth went dry as you heard him talk with so much cadence, a part of you felt bad for him, naturally so, but you also empathized with him. Growing up, your home life wasn’t the best either, and the fact that he’s decided to tell you something so important made you feel a little bit closer to him. 
“He seems like a great dad,” you affirmed, not wanting to press too much because you weren’t sure if he wanted to elaborate more on the situation.
Placing your hand on his shoulder, Jeonghan stops and looks at the way you smile at him. It's sympathetic, but he can’t tell you’re not doing it out of pity, just understanding. The city lights reflected in your eyes, causing them to twinkle in your now dim apartment. The way you stared at him made his heart skip. At the beginning of the day he saw you as his stuck-up roommate, but now you’re just Y/n, who happens to be his roommate. 
“He is, he really did a lot for me growing up,” Jeonghan chuckles, tearing his eyes from you to hide the blush starting to creep up from his neck. 
“I’m glad to hear that,” you say as your hand goes back to continue putting pieces of Legos together. “My parents weren’t really like that when I was young.” 
Jeonghan perks up a little, stunned by the fact that you decided to share a tidbit about yourself. He doesn’t really know much about you, so the fact that you’ve also decided to confide in him about your family surprised him. 
“They were always away when I was kid, they had to travel for work a lot, but I got used to it,” you mutter, not really sure why you felt the need to tell him about the neglect you felt when you were a kid. The topic of your parents was sensitive, and a part of you isn’t sure why you felt so comfortable talking about it with someone whom you felt resentment for not more than twenty-four hours ago. Jeonghan should be the last person you talk to about this, but yet you did it anyway. 
“I only ever saw them on weekends, and even then they weren’t the most affectionate people on earth.” A sigh leaves your lips as you recount the years you spent alone. “They were so busy that they ended up hiring a nanny at some point.” 
“That must’ve been hard, I’m sorry Y/n,” Jeognhan puts his hand over yours, giving you a solemn look, his frown mimicking yours. 
The knot in your throat intensified as he stared at you, causing you to swallow harshly. 
“It’s fine, I got used to it. It’s the reason why I moved cities,” you admit as he continues to hold your hand reassuringly. “They just expected so much from me, being the only child and all, and it got so bad to the point that the only time they spoke to me were to criticize my actions. I just knew that I would be happier if I didn’t have to be around them all the time.” 
 A bitter laugh leaves your lips, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill. If it weren’t for the fact that you had alcohol running through your system, you probably wouldn’t feel so emotional. Your parents are supposed to be the ones taking care of you and to be there for you when you need to be, but it seemed like the total opposite. Instead, they were the ones you couldn’t share anything with, not even when you told them that you got accepted to your dream university. Neither of them ever congratulated you on your achievements or milestones, nothing seemed to impress them.
Jeonghan didn’t utter a word, only listening to what you had to say, and it felt nice. For the first time, you could just genuinely share your feelings, without the scrutiny of your parents, without the fear of being ridiculed or being called weak. 
“Your parents don’t know anything about you Y/n, and one day they’ll regret every time they doubted you.” Jeonghan shrugs, and it feels like a breath of fresh air, hearing someone comfort you in a way your parents refuse to. 
“Thank you Jeonghan,” you whisper, blinking away unshed tears. “I’m sorry for dumping all that on you by the way.” 
The guilt in your stomach circled as you realized that your tangent went on longer than you would’ve liked, especially because the conversation was meant to be about him and not you.
It's clear to him that you thought talking about yourself was a selfish act, but it’s not. Jeonghan knew that the reason for your guilt was because of how much your parents neglected and ridiculed you growing up. If anything he feels guilty that he’s only now realizing how nice of a person you are. 
“Don’t be. I’m happy to listen.” He squeezes your hand, doing what he can to soothe your pain.
You suddenly wake up to find yourself seated with your back resting against the base of the couch. As you begin to regain consciousness from your cat nap, you hear the tv humming softly, the screen glowing as it plays a random movie. You also realized that your head was resting gently on Jeonghan’s shoulder, causing you to jolt up slightly from your position. 
“Rise and shine sleepyhead,” Jeonghan chirps, chuckling at the way you had just reacted. 
You don’t even remember falling asleep, let alone putting your head on his shoulder as you drifted off. The warmth of his body radiating onto yours, the smell of his cologne wafting off of him and enveloping your senses. At least he doesn’t stink, you thought to yourself. 
“I don’t even remember falling asleep, sorry,” you murmured, your cheeks turning red. 
The ambient lighting reflected onto Jeonghan’s face, the clear view of his smug expression made you want to smack him. There’s a glint in his eyes, one that you couldn’t really put a finger on. His arm is over your shoulder, which you didn’t realize was around you till now. Rubbing up at down your arm soothingly, it causes you to lean into his touch even more. You weren’t sure what had possessed you to do so, but all thoughts had left your head. Relaxation flowed through your veins, causing you to not think too much of the situation you’ve been put in. 
His touch is innocent, but the hair on your arm raises with each brush of Jeonghan’s palm. 
As you became more calm with each second that passed, you put your head on his shoulder once again. Embracing the intimate position you’ve been put in with your roommate of all people. You decide to just watch the movie that was playing, even though you didn’t know what was going on. Anything to stop you from thinking too much about the fact that you’re practically cuddled up with Jeonghan; the man who you despised not too long ago. 
“It’s fine, you seemed pretty drowsy from the wine,” he whispers in your ear, his breath fanning across the side of your face from the close proximity. “Remind me not to let you drink so much.” 
“I don’t drink often, I'm pretty sure I'm still a little tipsy,” you laugh, still staring at the flashing scenes coming off the screen. 
You can see Joenghan observing you from your peripheral vision, his eyes scanning your face for any type of discomfort. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol he had drank or the atmosphere of the cozy apartment, but he didn’t hate that he was holding you close. You were so focused on the TV, yet he found you more interesting than whatever movie he decided to put on. Eyebrows scrunched with concentration, lips in a line as you continued to pay attention to the characters in front of you. The red tint on your cheeks from the alcohol looked good to him, even when doing the most mundane act of watching a movie. 
“Y/n,” Jeonghan calls out for you with his soft voice, eyes entranced by your beauty. 
“Hmm?” you respond to him, finally meeting face-to-face with him. Taken aback by how close he had gotten as you turned to look at him, your eyes grew wide. 
He doesn’t say much more, only taking his other hand to grab ahold of your chin, levelling your face with his. Looking down at your lips and then back to your eyes, makes your palms sweat. All your thoughts are in disarray as he moves close enough to nudge his nose against yours. Practically tasting you, but not close enough to feel his lips on yours. 
Frozen in your spot on the carpet, you don’t move an inch, even though you could feel him starting to close the gap between you. A part of you is telling you to run away, push him off, anything, but your body stays still. Wrapped in his embrace, you don’t want to leave, not even when you begin to feel his lips place a soft kiss on yours. 
His warm lips are plush as he presses himself against you even more. The world crumbles away as you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to stabilize yourself. He becomes rougher, kissing you with more intent. Jeonghan takes his hand off your chin to wrap it around your waist, pulling you over and onto his lap. You can’t help but gasp at how fast he’s able to dominate the situation, but you don’t stop moving along with him. 
For once in your life, you release yourself from self-doubt and overthinking. Letting Jeonghan take over all your thoughts, all of your senses. It’s all you can think about now, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan, his name replaying in your head. No one else at that moment existed except you and him, and it causes you to kiss him back with the same determination.
He grips onto your hips, feeling you up, kissing you for all he’s worth. As if you're the only source of water during a year-long drought. A groan bubbles up from his throat as you grind yourself against his crotch, and you can’t help but moan back in response. He takes that opportunity to force his tongue past your lips, licking the inside of your mouth. It felt so damn good that you can only grind against him harder. The kiss became wetter, messier, with each passing second. 
“F-fuck, you can’t move like that sweetheart,” he detaches his lips from yours, groaning from how you keep pressing yourself against his growing erection. 
It’s the first time you’ve seen him so flustered, and the look on his face is addicting. You’ve never kissed anyone before, but you were just trying to go along with the flow he had set. 
“Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” you pant out, still out of breath from the little make-out session you just had.
You weren’t born yesterday, and the more you shuffle against his body, you begin to feel his hard-on brush up against the inside of your thigh. It makes you gasp, you didn’t realize how turned on Jeonghan had become just from kissing you. The experience of even just kissing someone was foreign to you, whatever it is that you were doing, he obviously enjoyed it. 
“Oh,” is all you can say after discovering how hard he is under you. 
“I didn’t tell you to stop though, did I?” He says, eyes lidded as he looks at your flushed face. 
He connects your lips with his once again, his hands travelling up your shorts and under them, groping at the soft skin of your ass, forcing you to grind against his length. A moan leaves your lips as you feel him touch you in such a lewd way, but you don’t want to stop. The pleasure of it all rewires your brain as you become more obsessed with the feeling of him all over you. 
“T-that feels really good,” you whimper against him, shamelessy starting to grind against him on your own accord. 
He lets out a chuckle before detaching his lips to place wet, hot kisses against your neck, moving down further to suckle on the base of your throat and collarbones. This is the first time you felt someone kiss you there, or anywhere to be honest, but you didn’t want him to stop. Not after knowing how good he is with just his mouth and hands all over you. 
“We can’t keep going or I’ll lose my self-control,” he breathes against your neck, his harsh grip still kneading your ass. The reality of the situation finally seeped into his brain. You whine against him, the last thing you want him to do is stop, but he does so anyway, pulling you off him. The only sound of both of your heavy breathing echoes throughout the apartment. 
“Oh okay,” you feel a little rejected, not sure why he couldn’t go any further with you. 
“It’s not that I didn’t like it, but I want you to be fully sober the next time I kiss you,” is all he says before he walks away, going back to his room without another word.
You’re left dumbfounded; the short, yet hot make out session started to finally sink in. It made you stop and think for a moment, would you even have gone further if he allowed it? Would you have let him fuck you on the floor of your shared apartment? It scared you how fast you made up your mind, the thought of him pleasuring you sending a shock throughout your whole body. 
It’s not every day you kiss your roommate who you thought you hated. As you try to recollect your thoughts, you realize how all of this could lead you down a really bad path. But a part of you is curious as to what would have happened if Jeonghan hadn’t stopped himself. 
VI.  
It’s the next morning and your university sent out another email that classes will go back to regular scheduling the following day. You felt relief that the snowstorm wasn’t too extreme but at the same time, you didn’t want to return after the short break. School was the least of your worries though, the thoughts of what happened last night with Jeonghan stayed at the forefront of your mind. 
You woke up before him, bright and early, others would think you’re just an early riser, but in reality, it was because you were up all night replaying the moments of when you lost your first kiss to your roommate. Not being able to get a wink of sleep, you decided to stay up till morning, early enough to make breakfast for yourself. It made you feel a little pathetic, knowing how easy it was for Jeonghan to conquer all your waking thoughts. 
If only you knew that he faced the same problem as he tried his best to fall asleep. 
“Morning,” Jeonghan walks into the kitchen nonchalantly, catching a glimpse of you cooking by the stove. 
His sudden presence startles you, causing you to yelp out while cooking a batch of scrambled eggs. Turning around your eyes couldn’t help but trail down his frame, his long blond hair flowing to his shoulders, not wearing anything but a pair of grey sweatpants, his boxers slightly peaking past the waistband. You were practically drooling as he stood there, his arms crossed accentuating his biceps. 
“Do you have to sneak up on me every time?” You mutter, breaking away your gaze from his body to regain focus on your current task. The eggs in your pan slightly burnt because of how much Jeonghan distracted you.
He laughs at you, noticing the now brown eggs that sit sadly in your frying pan. Watching your shoulders slump with disappointment, he can’t help but admire you right back. Your sleep shorts and long T-shirt did not leave much up to the imagination. It wasn’t even noon but Jeonghan couldn’t help but imagine fucking you against the kitchen counter. 
“I didn’t know I had to announce my presence every time, my bad, princess,” Jeonghan teases, observing how you react to the name he’s given you. 
Striding to where you stand, he comes up right behind you placing his hands on your hips, close enough that you could feel his breath tickle the nape of your neck. It leaves you breathless, and you finally understand why so many girls are desperate to get a lick of his attention. Even his slightest actions exude some sort of attractiveness, an effect you didn’t fully realize he had till last night’s hot make-out session. 
You try to ignore your intrusive thoughts, ignoring how close he’s standing behind you. As you plate up your food, he continues to follow you around, trying to get you to crack under the sexual tension he had created between the two of you. 
“Could you just stand still for one minute?” you sigh, feeling him coming behind you again, arms around your waist. 
“Why won’t you look at me?” he answers you with a question, and you can practically hear the pout in his voice. 
“Maybe because there’s a hot pan in my hand right now, and you keep trying to annoy me,” you chastise him, your voice coming out breathier than you wanted. He continues pestering you, feeling up your waist, not wanting to let you go so easily. 
His large hands hold you close, your ass right against his front as you try to finish up what you’re doing in the kitchen. It was hard to ignore a man like Jeonghan, especially because he was refusing to relinquish his hold on you as you placed the pan back onto the stove to cool down.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” he admits, his voice a little rough from just waking up. 
You sigh, turning around to face him, his arms moving to inclose you against the counter. The lust in his eyes is clear as if the only thing he’s hungry for this morning is you. 
“Me neither,” you whisper back, his body so close to yours to the point that you could hear his heartbeat against his chest. 
Looking into his eyes, you could see the mischievous glint reflecting against the morning sun. Is it too early for you to be horny for your roommate? Maybe. But you didn’t care, after having a taste of Jeonghan last night, all you want is more of him. 
Once those words were uttered, Jeonghan didn’t waste any more time. His mouth claimed yours in a heated kiss, making you dizzy and out of breath. As he forces his tongue past your lips, you can’t help but moan out of surprise. The grip he has on you only gets tighter until he lifts you onto the kitchen island, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The counter is at the perfect height, allowing you to feel his erection right against your heat. Jeonghan presses into you harder, allowing his clothed length to brush up against you, making you whimper against his lips. 
“J-Jeonghan,” you moan out for him as his lips trail down your neck just like last night. The feeling of him pressed up against is so addicting, to the point that you’ve forgotten about your breakfast that is plated beside you. 
He doesn’t dare stop showering you with kisses, his hands travelling up and under your shirt to grope at your breasts, playing with your hardened nipples. He’s thankful you were still in your pyjamas, no bra to stop him from touching your full mounds. 
“You’ll be my breakfast for today, is that okay with you?” he mumbles against your neck and you can only nod in response. 
Your eagerness makes him chuckle, and you can feel the vibration of his voice along your skin. He pulls back from you, swiftly removing the oversized shirt you have on. He groans at the sight, seeing your body for on display for him. His hard member twitches in his pants as he takes in every inch of your curves. Jeonghan can’t help but dive back into your breasts, taking one in his mouth, licking and suckling on your nipple while he massages the other. 
“That feels so good,” you moan, eyes closed as you lose yourself in the pleasure of his mouth. 
He’s only paying attention to your chest, but the bottom half of you is becoming wet and needy with every second that passes. Jeonghan is obsessed with the way you moan for him, the sounds coming from your mouth are so unholy, it’s all he wants to hear from you from now on. Just seeing you spread out for him like this is making his thoughts run a million miles per hour. He has so much he wants to do for you, but he decides to take his time, wanting to just savour each inch of your body. 
“I can’t get enough of you,” he sighs, pulling his mouth away from your body, standing back a little to take you in more clearly. 
You already looked so fucked out, and he loves it. He loves seeing your bare chest heaving, hair dishevelled, lips red and swollen. This image of you is so drastic from when he first met you, he never thought you’d be so submissive and needy for him. The blood rushing from his brain down to his dick, it's almost painful how hard he is, but he doesn’t care. He wants to see you come undone from his mouth before anything else. 
“Can I taste you baby?” he asks so sweetly as if he isn’t asking to make you cum from just his tongue. 
The ache between your legs intensifies, causing you to shut them close to allow yourself some type of relief. You’ve never been this aroused before. Of course, you’ve touched and played with yourself before, but you’ve never had anyone eat you out. The yearning to experience it grows tenfold as you watch him move closer, removing your shorts and panties in one go. 
“I’ve never done this before,” you admit to him, avoiding his gaze as your cheeks turn red. Your legs shut in an instant as you feel the cold air hit your wet core. 
Jeonghan sighs, gripping your face between his hands, your cheeks squished between his fingers. His dominant side begins to show as he stares at you with a serious look in his eyes. You find him so sexy as he examines you with so much lust, the wetness in your legs becomes harder to ignore the longer you two stay in this position. 
“I don’t mind, as long as you’re okay with me eating you out,” he assured, waiting for your approval. 
“I’m more than okay with it,” you nod eagerly, taking his hand off your face and placing it between your legs, “touch me here, please Jeonghan.” 
You sound so needy for him, it makes his head fill with thoughts of you under him, begging him to fuck you harder. But that's for next time, he concludes, right now he just wants you to feel the pleasure of his fingers and tongue. 
Without pausing, he forces your legs apart, spread for him so wide to the point that your body begins to ache at your knees and hips. Jeonghan doesn’t care, his eyes are still trained on your glistening cunt, so exposed for him, all for him. Running a finger against your slit, he tests the waters, and you immediately react with a moan. He’s barely touched you but you’re so responsive; the sounds you’re making practically frying his brain. 
He doesn’t stop because he’s only focused on making you cum against his mouth. Starting with his fingers, he rubs your clit lightly, giving it much-needed attention. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself as he continues to play with you. 
“Fuck you’re so wet,” he grunts before inserting a finger into your sopping hole. “And so tight.” 
You moan as he breaches your entrance with his fingers, the feeling of him inside you making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He takes the intensity up a notch, allowing a second finger past your folds. You’ve never felt this full before, your own fingers feel like nothing compared to Jeonghan’s. 
“Hmm Jeonghan please,” you beg him, for what exactly, you weren’t sure; all you know is that you need more of him. 
Hearing you whiny, breathless and begging for him makes him groan as he watches your face contort with pleasure. The scrunch of your eyebrows as your small hands grip his shoulders in enough to make him cum in his pants. 
He continues his ministrations, pumping into and out of your pussy till the only thing he can hear is your moans and the sound of your walls squelching against his fingers. The familiar feeling of an orgasm is approaching quickly, causing you to spasm against his wet digits. But he doesn’t stop there, instead, he removes his fingers to get on his knees, face levelling with your spent core. 
“So wet for me aren’t you?” he chuckles as you feel his hot breath against your entrance. “I bet you’re as sweet as I imagined too.” 
Taking his tongue he places a long languid lick against your wetness, flicking it up and down till it has you gripping onto his locks. One hand pinning you down as the other teases your hole. 
The feeling of his mouth against your cunt is much more intense than having his fingers inside you. It felt so good, you thought drool was about to escape past your lips. Jeonghan doesn’t go easy on you, even if it’s your first time receiving oral. His mind only focused on feeling you release onto his tongue. 
“Ah! Jeonghan please,” you continue begging, gripping his hair the more his tongue plays with your pussy. 
He ignores your pleading, thrusting his fingers, tongue sucking and biting on your bundle of nerves. You look down at him, his eyes piercing yours as he eats you out. The image of his mouth on your cunt is so lewd, but you love it. You love having him kneel in front of you, doing what he can just so you can reach your orgasm. 
“I-i’m gonna cum,” you moan out, your head lolling back as you release onto his tongue. 
“You did so well princess,” he praises you, standing up so that you two are at eye level once more. 
Jeonghan’s chin is wet with your release, his lips red and pouty from how hard he was trying to get you to your climax. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he places his soaked fingers against your lips, forcing you to taste your cum on his fingers. He grins as you obediently lick them clean, imagining it's his cock in your mouth instead. As much as he yearns for more, he stops there, not trying to overwhelm you after such an intense orgasm. 
“Best breakfast I’ve had in a while,” he smirks as he watches you come down from your high. 
Collecting your clothes from the kitchen floor, he places them back on your body. Your mind still buzzing with pleasure, and you couldn’t find the strength to reply to his comments. Instead, you just allow him to carry you into the washroom to get you cleaned up.
VII.
The last time you had seen Jeonghan was the night before school started up again. The two of you didn’t really talk about it after it happened, he just cleaned you up and asked if you wanted to finish the Legos together. He talked to you more about his family but after that, it was mostly silent. You gave up going to bed, tired, and did not want to wake up late for classes the next day. The little ramen shop had been left unfinished, the remaining pieces were few but still scattered on your shared coffee table. 
Now that you were back to your regular schedule you were starting to feel a little rejected, Jeonghan occupying most of your thoughts, did he miss your presence as much as you missed his? How can two people live together but not get to communicate for even a moment? Everything was fine between you two, except for the fact that he was asleep before you left for school, and you were asleep by the time he got home. It left a weird feeling in your stomach that your last interaction with him was the day he ate you out. 
 He isn’t your boyfriend, you’re not sure if he’s even your friend yet, but you two are something. What do you even call a person who you’ve hooked up with and also share an apartment with? There are so many unanswered questions circulating in your brain, but would Jeonghan be able to answer them? It frustrates you how one moment between you changed everything. You’re a smart girl, but when it comes to men it’s like all knowledge has left your head. 
“Y/n, you okay? You’re spacing out,” Seungkwan queried, tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your thoughts. 
“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine.” You give him a small smile before refocusing on your lecture.
Seungkwan wasn’t so convinced, he could tell you had a lot on your mind, but he just wasn’t sure what it was. You two have only known each other for a while, so he decided to trust that you were okay, hoping that you would talk to him about it when you were ready. 
“If you say so, but I’m here if you need me.” He gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your shoulder. 
It felt nice to know you had someone to lean on when you needed it, to finally have people around you that are aware of your feelings. You knew from the moment you met him that Seungkwan was going to be one of those people you could be friends with for a long time. He’s so observant, aware of others' feelings, and overall comforting to be around. It made you wonder why you didn’t move earlier, especially because the people you were destined to be friends with were here the whole time. 
“Thanks, Kwan, you’re the best,” you whisper, trying not to disrupt the class going on. 
Even though you tried to focus on what the professor was talking about, your thoughts still led back to the man who lives less than ten feet away from you. 
“You did all that with her… on your kitchen counter?” Joshua gives Jeonghan an incredulous look. “Dude we eat there.” 
“Well I was eating wasn’t I?” Jeonghan bites back, not wanting to hear Joshua scold him. 
The two of them are sitting on Joshua’s couch, blunt in hand as they catch each other up on both their lives. It seems that Joshua missed out on a few things since the snowstorm had hit their city. Quite a lot more than he was expecting, but he wasn’t all that surprised. He knows if you put a woman and Jeonghan in a room all alone, something is bound to happen. 
“You’re actually disgusting,” he rolls his eyes, passing the lit blunt over to Jeonghan. “Have you talked to her?” 
Jeonghan sighs, grabbing the weed from his friend to take a hit, the smoke immediately filling his lungs, calming him with every puff that he lets out. 
He hasn’t seen you since the last night of the snowstorm, and he isn’t sure where the two of you stand, but he does know that it won’t be the last time he has you cumming for him. He’ll make sure of it. 
“No, haven’t seen her since that Wednesday,” he shrugs, passing the joint back over to his friend. 
“Bro, what the fuck? It’s Friday, she probably thinks you don’t want to talk to her again.” Joshua gives him a disapproving look, but still takes another puff of the blunt handed over to him. 
Jeonghan wasn’t sure how to reach out to you, he isn’t even the type to go back for seconds either. Yet he wants seconds with you, thirds, and even fourths, but how does he tell you that without sounding like he’s completely simp? It’s just not his style to beg, his pride tends to get in the way. 
“Do you want to talk to her again?” Joshua asks him, curious as to whether this is someone his friend is actually falling for. 
Joshua has watched Jeonghan go through his fair share of girl problems, but in all the years he’s known Jeonghan, he’s never seen him fall in love once. He assumes it’s his mommy issues or the fact that he doesn’t like being tied down to one person, but even then, the most indifferent of people can fall for the right person.
“I do. She’s different, Shua,” Jeonghan sighs, the high finally reaching his brain, the world becoming a fuzzy background. 
That moment with you two building legos that day lives rent-free in his mind, your willingness to open up to him made him feel warm inside. He felt like the Grinch who’s heart grew ten times bigger after watching you be so vulnerable with him. The view he had on you changed completely, from being his annoying roommate to a girl who’s smart, strong, and enjoyable to be around. You two had a lot in common and it surprised him, and it surprised him that he was able to get along with you, despite all the arguing he put you through. 
“Then what the hell are you doing? Talk to her!” Joshuas chastises him, trying to knock some sense into the idiot he calls his friend.
They both look at each other for a moment, eyes red from the weed they had been smoking. A disappointed sigh left Joshua’s lips. Even though he could feel his high hitting him, he felt as though he still had more common sense than Jeonghan had when he was sober.
“And say what? Hey, I liked eating you out, can we do it again?” Jeonghan scoffs, still not sure how to bring up what had gone down that day. 
“Yes? That’s what you want isn’t it?” 
“It is, but that makes me sound like a needy loser,” Jeonghan grimaces before finishing off the rest of the shared joint in hand, leaving the rest in the ashtray on the table in front of him.
“You’re so annoying, let your pride go for once before she starts to resent you again,” Joshua huffs, annoyed that he’s high and still dealing with Jeonghan’s shit, “She literally just forgave you for being an asshole too, so don’t fuck up again please, for my mental health.” 
Although Jeonghan hates to admit it, Joshua is right. He knows that he should at least put effort in talking to you, but he just doesn’t know where to start. Hopefully, you’re still willing to talk to him, or else Joshua might just nag his ear off till he’s old and shrivelled. 
VIII. 
Beep beep beep. Click. 
The sound of the door unlocking brings you out of your thoughts, and you know exactly who it is. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you sit on the couch, attempting to act unbothered as Jeonghan makes his way past the front entrance. Conflicted on whether you should address his presence or not, you decide to continue watching Gossip Girl as if he’s not there. 
“Y/n.” Your heart skips a beat as you hear him call out for you. 
You don’t even look at him, just letting out a “Hmm?”, eyes pretending to be trained on the TV. There’s a little bit of shuffling in the front room before he comes over to sit beside you on the couch. 
Jeonghan settles down a little too close to you, close enough for you to smell the scent of cologne and weed waft off of him and into your nostrils. The smell is strong yet not unpleasant, if anything you felt more attracted to him because of it. 
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk since…” He trails off, causing you to finally glance over at him.
His eyes were a bit red and glossed over, he must’ve still been a little high. The way he was staring you down like he just wanted to eat you, it was intoxicating. 
“Yeah, I guess we didn’t get to talk about what happened in the kitchen.” You try to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were freaking out. 
Not only because Jeonghan was actually making an effort to talk about what happened, but also because he looks so good right now. The lazy smirk across his face as he slowly invades your space is causing your brain to short circuit. 
Putting his arm around you, he leans into the couch a little more, wanting to fill all his senses with you and you only. “I liked it a lot. I just wanted to let you know.” 
“Oh,” is all you can say as your heart starts to pound in your chest. 
You weren’t sure on how to reply, this is the first time you’ve casually hooked up with someone. It was the first time you’ve hooked up with someone in general, and even though you want to proceed with caution, it’s like all thoughts leave your head when Jeonghan is around you. 
“I liked it too,” you finally tell him, scared he might just be saying all this because he’s still high. 
The same lazy smirk appears his on face again, eyes lidded as he stares at your features. Images of you cumming on his tongue fill his thoughts again; he can already feel all the blood rushing to his lower half. Just the sight of you spread out on the countertop for him could get him to cum in his pants, no matter how experienced he is. It hasn’t happened to him before, but you may just be the first person to get him there. 
“Would you be down to do it again?” he propositions, searching for any type of indication that you would indulge in his darkest fantasies. 
You look at him with uncertainty, even though you liked how he ate you out, would it be worth it to do it again? Would it be worth it to give him a piece of you, one that you thought you were going to save for someone who truly loved you? There’s so many questions you’re asking yourself, but the way Jeonghan’s gaze is trained on you has all those thoughts slipping away from your brain at the speed of light. 
Before even getting the chance to speak, you decide to let your actions do the talking instead. 
With one abrupt motion, you settle yourself on Jeonghan’s lap, immediately placing your lips on his with a sense of urgency. He’s taken aback with how forward you’ve become, but lets himself melt into the kiss regardless. Gripping harshly onto your hips, he kisses you back with as much passion, licking the inside of your mouth as if it holds the answers to all his problems. 
A moan slips past your lips as you feel his growing bulge rub against you through your thin sleep shorts, the way it’s poking at your clothed clit in the most delicious way has you going delirious with pleasure. 
“You sound so pretty when you moan like that,” he breathes against your neck, kissing his way down to your collarbones. 
As you lean more into his touch, Jeonghan’s hands find themselves back under your shorts once more. Gripping the flesh of your ass harshly before reconnecting your lips with his in a sloppy, wet kiss. His touch is hot and addicting like you could spend hours on top of him like this. The feeling of his body under yours has your stomach doing backflips as he continues to kiss you till your lips are bruised and red. 
“More,” you beg him, trying to indulge in all the pleasure he’s giving you. 
Jeonghan pulls away, his eyebrows raising with intrigue as he finally sobers up from his high. He wants nothing more than to take you onto his bed and fuck you like no tomorrow, but he has a feeling that that won’t happen tonight. Not that it bothers him, just that he wants to be in a better state before feeling you around his achingly hard dick. 
It’s so out of character for him to take things slow, especially because he’s always been a one-and-done type of guy. But this is different to him, hooking up with you is like he’s experiencing it all for the first time again. 
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” The wolfish grin on his face reaches his eyes, satisfied with how cock drunk you look, and he’s barely touched you yet. 
Nodding vigorously with pleading eyes, you grip his biceps in desperation. He doesn’t concede to your request just yet, instead, he simply pulls you off his lap to take you to his room. You follow him wordlessly, nervous as to what he has cooking up in that delinquent brain of his.
He sits you on the bed, telling you to stay put as he ruffles around his room in search of something. As he continued to seek out whatever it was, you began to take a look around his room, realizing that you’d never actually been inside it. The decorations adorning his room made it look so cozy; especially the warm mushroom lamp sitting on his nightstand and the fluffy blankets that lined his bed. The initial impression of his room screamed Jeonghan, especially because it’s so calm and comforting, even if your first impression of him was the complete opposite. After getting to know him a bit more, his personality translates clearly into his choice of decorations. 
“Found it!” he exclaims, turning around to show you what's in his hands.
A small bong in one and a tiny bag of weed in the other. You give him a questioning look but you already know what he is trying to allude to. 
“You want me to try it?” you ask him with uncertainty, but also not completely against the idea. 
He nods before quickly leaving to fill the glass bowl with some water. Only a few seconds later, he returns, taking a seat beside you on his bed. You weren’t sure what to do so you moved to lay against his headboard, watching him as he meticulously prepared the weed to pack into the bowl. His slender fingers wrap around the grinder till the flower is fine enough to smoke. Continuing to observe him, your eyes waver to his form, hunched over next to you as he places a few sprinkles of the drug into the slider. His biceps flex and unflexing with each movement he makes causing your mouth to salivate. You never thought someone could look so attractive simply packing a bowl of weed. 
“I’ll show you how it’s done first,” he smirks, already loving where this is going.
Just because he won’t fuck you tonight doesn’t mean you couldn’t have a little bit of fun in the meantime.
Jeonghan takes his lighter, sparking the drug till it's ready to be inhaled. The water inside the bong begins to bubble as he inhales, allowing the smoke to enter his lungs. Once all the white smoke leaves the stem he holds it in his mouth, dragging you by the arm to bring you closer to him. You aren’t sure where this is going, but you decide to just follow his lead. 
His face comes closer to yours, one hand on the bong to keep it steady, his free hand reaching for the side of your cheek, pulling you into an almost kiss. While his hand is on your cheek, he pulls your lower lip down with his thumb, indicating for you to open your mouth for him. He holds his breath till you comply, not wanting any of the vapour to go to waste. 
Once you do what he wants, he moves in even closer, till your lips are whispering against his. Then he lets go, allowing the smoke to enter your mouth, noses brushing against one another from the close proximity.  
“Be a good girl and inhale it for me,” he mutters, eyes trained on your face as you oblige to his request. 
The smell of the weed and his scent make your insides melt, and you can feel the wetness of your arousal starting to stick to your panties. You know enough about the drug to know that the effects of the weed won’t hit you right away, but the new experience is starting to excite you, making your body jitter with anticipation. 
Placing the bong on your lap, he packs another bowl expertly like it’s his everyday routine. You copy what he did earlier, placing your lips inside the rim and looking at him through your lashes as he lights it up. The water begins to bubble again as you try to inhale as much smoke as possible, but you are only able to take about half of what is in the stem. 
Your lungs felt like they were on fire, causing you to cough a bit from the heat of the smoke. Jeonghan only chuckles at your reaction, finding it endearing how hard you tried to take it all. He finishes off the rest of what’s left, blowing it out once it was inhaled properly before placing the glass onto his nightstand and pulling you onto his lap once more. 
“You did pretty well for a newbie,” he laughs, eyes lighting up as he notices that your gaze is now glossed over, the weed finally taking its effect. 
The heat on your cheeks clearly indicated that you felt flustered, all you wanted now was for him to pleasure you like he did once before. You hide your face into the crevice of his neck, not wanting him to see how red your face has gotten. 
“I didn’t think the first time I’d try weed would be with you,” your voice is muffled, still not really fully grasp the situation, or how you even ended up on his bed both high and horny. 
“Did you enjoy it at least?” he asks you, pulling your face out from where you were hiding. 
You nod, not able to look him in the eye as he rubs his hands up and down your sides, soothing you while your brain becomes foggy with thoughts of only him. Leaning into his touch more, you place a peck on his lips, giggling at how innocent it is compared to the position you’re in right now. He smiles up at you before leaning into you to give you a proper kiss. 
You’re completely engulfed in him, the weed heightening your senses, making you more sensitive to his touch. Every brush of his fingers is like a burst of mini fireworks exploding against your skin. It felt so good, having him in this way, underneath you and feeling the same sensations that you were experiencing. 
He groans as you deepen his kiss, grinding your hips against him just like you did not too long before. Jeonghan’s hands massage your bare thighs, wanting to hold onto you till you are out of breath. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it,” he mumbles against your lips, and you can only moan back in response. 
“Want you, please Hannie.” Your brain is mush, the nickname slipping past your lips accidentally, but with the way he groans, you can tell he enjoys the sound of it. 
Pulling away from his face completely, he watches your red eyes beg for him to take you. His resolve falters a little bit, but he’s adamant about his decision. He won’t fuck you, not when you’re both high. 
“Not today love, not like this,” he sighs, kissing up your neck, marking you till a little bruise forms. 
You whine, gripping onto his hair, letting the strands flow through your fingers. He enjoys the way you tug at him, his boner twitching underneath you. The feeling of his hard length flush against your clothed core makes you grind against him even faster. It made you wonder what it would feel like if he was actually in you, his length filling your velvet walls, but you don’t mind waiting till you’re actually sober enough to register everything. 
“I want to do something for you though,” you pout, your lip jutted out slightly. 
She’s cute when she’s high, he thinks to himself, enjoying this new side of you. Needy, submissive, just wanting to give yourself up to him. 
“Fuck, you’re adorable,” he says as he rests his head against the headboard, wanting to observe your every feature. “Wanna suck me off? Would you do that for me, baby?” 
You don’t need to be asked twice, getting off his lap till your face is positioned in front of his clothed erection. Jeonghan’s upper body is sat against the headboard, your intoxicating figure between his legs. 
This is the first time you’ve had the opportunity to give someone oral, and you were a little bit nervous about what to do. The anxious look on your face is clear as Jeonghan looks down at you. Luckily enough, you’ve seen a few pornos in your lifetime, so you use that to guide you on what to do next. 
A hand creeps up towards the band of his sweats, pulling down on both his pants and his boxers till his hard member slaps against his stomach. Jeonghan lets out a hiss as the cold air hits his length, the tip red and dripping with pre cum. The length surprised you, and you wondered if it would even fit inside you at all. 
You start by pumping his hardness up and down, collecting the drops of cum to lubricate your movements. Jeonghan gasps at the feeling, watching your small hand wrap around him. The lewdness of the situation turned him on even more. 
“You’re doing well baby,” he lets out with a strangled grunt, trying not to cum at the sight of you playing with him. 
The confidence of his praise radiated throughout your whole body, leading to your rookie mistake. You engulf his length in his mouth, trying to fit the whole thing, just wanting to give him the same pleasure he gives to you. Jeonghan yelps from how quick you are to take him whole, grabbing you by your hair to remove you from his dick. 
“Fuck, just wait, try starting slower, maybe lick it a little first,” he says with laboured breaths, trying to calm down from the heat of your mouth. 
Your cheeks flush from his advice, letting out a small sorry before doing what he says. 
Going slower this time, you stick your tongue out, licking and kissing up and down his member, hearing Jeonghan let out a satisfied sigh. You watch him through your lashes, his eyes lidded and red, filled with want as you continue your ministrations. 
“Just like that, fuck…” he continues to praise you, his fingers carding through the strands of your hair, helping you get it out of your face.
Your confidence peaks again as you begin to take his tip into your mouth. Sucking on it like it was a popsicle on a hot, sunny day. Jeonghan’s head lolls back and he begins to push your head down to take more of him. Going along with the rhythm, you slowly take more and more of him, to the point where his tip starts to hit the back of your throat. It almost makes you choke, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 
Jeonghan on the other hand is completely enraptured by you and the way you’re taking his cock so well. The feeling of release slowly starts to creep up as you continue to bob your head down, the sounds of your mouth being fucked by Jeonghan’s member filling the room. 
“I'm close,” He groans, his grip on your hair tightening. 
The pace he set starts to speed up as you continue sucking on him, the underside of his length constantly being brushed by your wet tongue. The hand you placed on his thigh moves to massage the rest of him, the combination of both your hand and mouth sending Jeonghan over that impending edge. 
“Fuuck,” he swears, releasing his sticky load into your mouth. He watches you as you begin to sit up, not sure what to do with his cum, “Swallow it.” 
You do what he says, swallowing his seed. It didn’t taste as horrible as you expected it to, but it was extremely salty, causing you to make a face after. 
He only laughs at you, but pulls you into a kiss, placing you back onto his lap. Jeonghan admires your form, his hands trailing on your soft skin under your shirt. He gives you a look, silently asking permission to take it off of you, making you nod. Pulling it off, he goes straight for your breasts, kissing and sucking on them. You couldn’t help but moan, your hand finding its way to his long hair once again. 
“You must be soaked down there by now,” he mumbles as he continues to pepper kisses along your chest. “Want me to help with that?”
“Please.” 
He smiles against your breasts, clearly enjoying how needy you are getting for him. Grabbing you by the waist, he flips the two of you around till you're laying underneath him. A sound of surprise leaves your lips, but Jeonghan only smirks, ready to devour you. 
The next piece of fabric to leave your body is your shorts, then your panties. He throws them over his shoulder without a care in the world. The only thing he’s focused on right now is to make you feel good. 
He hooks the back of your thigh on his shoulders, your pussy glistening under the ambient lighting. Licking his lips, he doesn’t waste any more time teasing you, diving into the heat of your core. The pads of his fingers are prodding at your entrance, his tongue suckling on your puffy clit. 
The overflow of senses causes your hips to jolt up, and the sound of a half scream half moan fills Jeonghan’s ears. He hums against your mound in approval, enjoying how he has you squirming. The vibrations of his low voice make your eyes roll back, palms gripping the sheets as he continues to lick at your folds. 
“Hannie,” you whine, the nickname sounds like heaven to him coming from you. 
Jeonghan starts to get tunnel vision, focused on getting you to release, fast and hard. Two fingers breach your entrance, pumping in and out of you in a rushed pace. The feeling of his mouth right where you need it causes your spine to tingle, your head still buzzing from the high the weed gave you. This time is much more intense than the last, your legs wrapping themselves around his head like earmuffs as he continues to eat you. 
Every push and pull of his fingers, every lick from his tongue, you feel like you’re going crazy in the best possible way. The sound of him fingering you bouncing off the walls of his bedroom adds to it all. He begins to pay extra attention to your sensitive bud, kissing and sucking until he feels the gush of your orgasm on his fingers. 
“Hannie, please.” You’re practically sobbing from the pleasure, your body trying to recover from the intense climax. 
He looks up at you from where he’s laying, your face fucked out, lips swollen, body covered in purple and red from when he was marking you earlier. You looked like his own personal angel, one that came down from heaven just for him to corrupt. He loved the thought of being able to see you in such a compromising position, legs spread and wet from his saliva and your arousal. The tears falling down your cheeks are his favourite part, the fact that he can have you crying and begging for him in seconds gives him an unexplainable rush. 
Your eyebrows are knitted, breathing laboured from the high Jeonghan gave you. A high that is a million times better than the weed you smoked less than a couple hours ago. 
“You’re so fucking sexy like this angel,” he coins a new pet name for you, it fits you so well. Your body practically glowing after he had his way with you. 
“I’m tired now,” you pout, taking his chin into your hand, and guiding him back to you until the two of you are face to face. 
“You can sleep here if you’d like,” he mumbles, kissing your cheek, then your lips, then your forehead. 
Without a single protest, you get comfortable under his covers, letting his arm wrap around your bare waist as the two of you drift off. The oral sex had sucked out all your energy, literally. The high from the weed began to come down shortly after your orgasm, making your eyes droop and you into a dreamless sleep. 
Jeonghan didn’t fall asleep right away though, instead, he opted to watch your peaceful expression, your breathing becoming even as you lay beside him, your arm on top of his as you held him close. He’s completely enamoured by your beauty, it really does feel like you are his personal angel, one sent in disguise as a once annoying roommate. His view of you has completely changed; his thoughts lately have all been connected to you, to the point where he doesn’t think about anything else. None of it settled right with him. The fact that a single thought about you brought him peace, a feeling he didn’t get to experience as often till you. 
 For the first time in his life, he allowed someone he’s hooked up with to stay the night, not being able to bear the thought of sending you to your own room. He wants to be beside you, even if it means he is breaking the rules he’s set up for himself. 
When you wake up the first thing you hear is someone snoring in your ear. At first, it alarms you, till you remember you fell asleep in Jeonghan’s bed last night. Your eyes are wide as saucers when you realize that he’s the one gripping your waist while you lay with your back towards him. But what makes your heart skip a beat is how he didn’t ask you to go back to your room after you hooked up. You recall the fact that none of Jeonghan’s previous flings were allowed the stay the night. He didn’t have to tell you that, but you knew from observation that it wasn’t something he let just anyone do. It makes you feel special knowing he asked you, that’s until you recall what type of relationship you two have. 
To him, you’re just another girl he’s hooking up with, there’s no label on it. He hasn’t taken you on a date or told you he likes you, so what are you to him? Just his roommate he likes to have fun with? It made your head hurt thinking about it so early in the morning. 
You turn to face him, his grip unconsciously tightening with your slight movement. Taking a closer look at him, you’re surprised at how calm he looks while he’s asleep. His face was in a rested state, with no smirk, not even a furrow of the eyebrow. Just Jeonghan. 
A strand of hair covers his face, tickling his nose. Before you can think, your hand moves to brush the single strand away, placing it behind his ear as he continues to sleep. 
The fact you can even lay here, this close to him, watch him rest peacefully, made your heart do backflips. If someone were to watch from an outside perspective they would assume the two of you are dating, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. The lines of your “friendship” with him have blurred since you two started hooking up, and it’s making you wonder if you should detach from him before things get increasingly complicated. 
You sigh out loud, taking one last look at Jeonghan’s sleeping form. Giving him a kiss on the forehead before you collect your clothes and leave his room. 
 IX. 
“So you’re telling me that you and Jeonghan have been hooking up?!” Seungkwan’s jaw drops. “Like Jeonghan, Jeonghan? Yoon Jeonghan, the one I specifically warned you about?” 
You can’t help but roll your eyes at your friend as you watch his reaction to what you just told him. Honestly, it’s still hard for even you to believe, that you literally live with the man. 
Seungkwan invited you for a study session, which failed miserably after hours passed just catching up. You two decided to just give up and go to the dining hall to eat lunch instead, and then he asked you how things were going with your roommate, one thing led to another, and now you’re getting an earful. 
“Yes! Last time I recalled, there’s only one Jeonghanwe both know.” You roll your eyes at him, not wanting him to air out your business to the rest of the students in the dining hall. 
He side-eyes you, but you don’t want to hear it from him. You already knew that whatever you had going on with Jeonghan was a bad idea, you didn’t need Seungkwan to tell you that too. 
“I hope you’re being careful Y/nie,” he sighs. “Jeonghan and feelings don’t mix.” 
You hate to admit it, but he’s right, you know Jeonghan is trouble, but you can’t help but continue to give in to his temptation every time he’s around you. 
“I know. I’m trying, but honestly, I’m scared—” Your conversation gets cut off by your phone ringing Your heart drops to the pits of hell when you see the contact ID flashing on the screen. Mom. 
You scramble to pick up the phone, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you hear your mom’s voice through the speaker. 
“Y/n? Me and your father would like to have a chat with you,” your mom sighs, the background sounding busy, kind of like how busy it sounds in the dining hall right now. 
“M-mom? What? Why?” you stuttered. 
Now you’re even more worried because your mom doesn’t call you unless it’s absolutely necessary. Your relationship has never been good, but it got increasingly worse when you told them you were moving away.
Seungkwan who is sitting across from you peers at you with curious eyes. He’s one of the only people who know what you’re parents are like. There have been many drunk conversations about how much you resented them, and he would be there to comfort you every time. 
“Well, we’ve come to visit, that’s why,” she declared. 
Shit, shit, shit. You’re absolutely fucked. 
“Huh? Why?” you continue to press her for answers. 
The beating of your heart intensifies as you begin to look around the dining hall, immediately zeroing in on the woman who looks exactly like your mom. If the world ended today, you would die happy. Nothing scares you more than having the people you ran away from showing up at your doorstep, a metaphorical doorstep in this situation. 
She spots you almost immediately, your dad points you out because you were probably the only two people who were talking on the phone right now. 
The line drops dead the moment you two make eye contact, and for the first time in months, you feel exactly the same way you did when you were still a child. Fearing your parents, having to be around them, enduring their every insult, it was all rushing back to you. You could feel the bile rise in your throat, eyes glossy as she makes her way to your table. 
“Y/n,” her tone was still as cold as the day you left. 
She glances over at Seungkwan with a grimace, the same one she gave you growing up. It angers you how easy it is for her to look down on one of the people you care about most, but Seungkwan isn’t the one to cower over anyone. He returns her scowl before promptly bidding you farewell, emphasizing that you should text or call him when you are free. You know that it was Seungkwan’s way of telling you to be careful and that he’s here for you once your parents leave. To say the least, you’re grateful that he’s your friend. 
“Mom, dad,” you match her tone. 
Standing up from your table, you finally meet with her at eye level, putting on a brave face, attempting to show her you’re not scared of her like you once were. You’re older now, but for some reason every time you’re around your parents you feel like that little girl again. The one who didn’t know why her parents couldn’t give her an inkling of their affection, a girl whom they raised through nannies, the same little girl they abandoned time and time again. 
“We just wanted to know where our daughter is going to school,” your dad says sternly, his cold demeanour unwavering. “We can’t just pay for it without knowing.”
“We also want to see where you’re living.” your mom adds, looking around to judge the state of the dining hall. 
You sigh, a part of you should’ve expected they would come to visit at least once, they are still paying for your tuition. Even then, you just didn’t want to think about seeing them again, just imagining it stresses you out beyond belief. You should’ve known they’re only concerned because they invested their money into you and going to school here. You’ve learnt a long time ago that their money will always be more important to them than their own daughter. Always. 
In the past few hours, they forced you to tour them around the campus, meet with almost every professor you had for the term, and request a report of your grades from the admissions office. The exhaustion caught up with you quickly, physically and mentally. You felt bad for any of your professors who decided to leave their office hours open, even though it was a Saturday. Watching their confused expressions as they endured every question your parents had asked them.
You walked with them to your apartment in complete silence, and all you could think about was whether Jeonghan was home or not. The day went by excruciatingly slow yet you still didn’t have enough time to warn him about your parents' surprise visit. 
Once you finally reached your building, you let them in begrudgingly, their faces filled with disgust as they invaded your space. Your mom is especially annoying, running her fingertips against the counters to check for dust; her designer bad tucked securely against her body as if someone was about to break into the apartment at any moment. 
You roll your eyes at her actions, offended that she thought that way of your home. Especially because you deemed it as a safe place to live, not really having any issues since you moved in.
“Y/n, you’re home?” Jeonghan calls out for you from his side of the apartment, causing you to jump slightly from the sudden sound of him shuffling around. 
Your parents give you an inquisitive look, confused as to why you didn’t mention that you were living with a roommate. 
Jeonghan emerges from the bathroom, shirtless and his long hair damp, using a towel to dry his hair. Your eyes widen at the sight, and you can hear your mom audibly gasp behind you. The blush on your cheeks grows as you start to fully register the situation you’re in. 
Before you could even begin to answer him, your mom tugged your arm harshly, pulling you into your bedroom before closing the door. 
“What the hell were you thinking, Y/n?!” she practically screams, as if she caught you in the middle of doing the deed. Her eyes are wide, completely in shock at the fact that you’re living with someone else, especially because the person you’re living with is of the opposite gender. 
“Y/n, why didn’t you mention that you’re living with someone, let alone a man,” your dad doesn’t raise his voice, but you could tell that he was equally as pissed as your mom. 
Oh, this is really bad, you thought. You couldn’t even look them in the eyes, not sure how to respond to their harsh inquiries. A part of you wants to cry, scream, anything, just so that they would leave. Praying to god that they would just go back to your hometown, and not to be seen again. 
“I was thinking that I needed a place to live, and I can’t possibly pay rent alone,” you shrug, the anger starting to rush through your veins. 
You’re done with your parents, you’re done with their constant ridicule, their need to judge everyone with their noses up in the air, as if they’re better than every person they pass as if they’re better than their own child.
Sometimes you wonder if you’re mother actually gave birth to you, because if she did, why does she treat you like an investment instead of a daughter? 
“You’re being incredibly stupid Y/n, we will not tolerate what you’re doing here,” your mom scolds you like you’re a child. “You better come back home, this place isn’t up to standard! You live with a guy who looks like he sells drugs for god’s sake.” 
“He has a name you know, and he doesn’t sell drugs!” you say with exasperation, tired of the constant criticism and belittling. 
“You don’t get to talk to us like that,” your father seethes, eyes blazing with anger. 
“I don’t need you two, you know. I had enough money to pay for the tuition, but yet you offered!” you yell. “If you two don’t like that I’m living with a man, then fine. I don’t care, cut me off! I’m tired of the two of you judging my every move, it’s the reason why I moved out in the first place. Do you even care about me? Or are you just here to make sure you’re getting your money’s worth?” 
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at us, young lady,” your mother threatened, pointing a finger at you. 
“See! You guys don’t even deny it,” you’re practically on the verge of tears, but you try to stay strong, “I’m not sorry for moving out, if anything it was the best decision I’ve made in my entire life.” 
“It better be because we will not accept you if you decide to come back to us when your money runs out,” your dad huffs, not even addressing anything else you’ve said prior. 
This is so typical of them, ignoring your desperate pleas to just admit that they don’t really care about you. It frustrates you beyond belief, but at least now you’re sure. This little visit of theirs confirms they don’t have a loving bone in their body. 
“Leave. I don’t want you contacting me ever again,” you sneered, motioning over to the door. 
As quickly as they came, they left without sparing you another glance as they made their way out of your home. 
Once they had gone, you felt everything in your body collapse, the stress of your fight with your parents finally catching up to you. 
X.
౨ৎ before Y/n comes home with her parents
Jeonghan woke up that morning with a lingering feeling of exhaustion from last night. He stirred in his sleep, subconsciously reaching for your warmth to realize that you were already gone; your half of his bed was left cold, the sheets wrinkled with the memory of where you had slept. 
There was a tight feeling in his chest knowing you didn’t stay in bed with him, but he kept reminding himself he had no right to yearn for you. He doesn’t have the right to ask you to stay, to cuddle with him, laugh with him. Jeonghan doesn’t feel as though he has the right to admire the crinkle in your eyes when you smile wide, or the way he can see the stars shining in your eyes when you talk mindlessly about your passions. 
After everything, Jeonghan knows he doesn’t have the right to you. He knows all these things, and he knows enough to convince himself to not pursue you, but he’s a selfish being, and like the selfish being Jeonghan is, he only wants you. 
Jeonghan spent the rest of his Saturday in peace, or at least that is what it would seem like from an outsider’s perspective. In reality, his every waking thought is about you, or what you are doing, or who you are with. It feels so foreign to him, thinking about a girl he’s barely slept with. The fact that he is concerned about you scares him, but he still can’t stop himself from wondering anyway. 
Instead of facing his feelings head-on, he does what he does best—calling up Joshua and asking him to get high.
“It’s fine if you like her,” Joshua mumbles, trying to cure his munchies by snacking on turtle chips, “What did you expect? You spend so much time with her, she’s literally your roommate.” 
The two of them sit on the couch, taking hits back and forth while watching South Park, their favourite show to binge while they get high. Except Jeonghan could barely pay attention when you are constantly tormenting his innermost thoughts. Not even a high that has saved him countless times could save him from you. 
“Is it normal to think about someone this often? I feel like I’m going crazy,” Jeonghan sighs, taking another hit from Joshua’s dab pen. 
“You’re not going crazy, you’re just falling in love.” 
XI. 
 ౨ৎ after the fight with y/n’s parents
The soft knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts, causing you to move from where you sit lifelessly, tears staining your cheeks. Your limbs feel heavy like your muscles were a pile of bricks. The few steps from the door feel like it’s taking hours, the weight of the door knob causing your wrist to ache. 
By the time you open the door, the first thing your eyes meet is the worrying look on Jeonghan’s face. His eyebrows knotted, lips turned down in a frown. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around you and shield you from all the horrors of the world. That's what he tries to do at least, running up to you to hold you close. 
What he expected was for you to welcome him with open arms, allowing him to give you the same warmth you give him. What really happened gave him a shock, one that quickly turned into hurt then into betrayal. 
You begin to cry harder, sobs raking your body by the second, all the while Jeonghan tries to engulf you in a hug. What he assumed would bring you comfort only overwhelmed you even more. Your cries are inconsolable, your breathing uneven, causing you to hiccup as he tries to invade your space. Although you don’t mean it, your instincts take over you, pushing him away as hard as you can.
“Get the fuck away from me!” you scream through each hiccup, your arms in front of you as you try to get him as far away as possible. 
Jeonghan feels hurt, the way you beg him not to touch you breaks something inside him, something that he isn’t sure he can fix alone. He wants to be there for you, but clearly, all you want is to be alone. 
“I’m sorry Y/n,” is all he says as he backs away from you, closing your door with a reverberating slam.
It had been a week after the incident and you still haven’t mustered up the courage to talk to Jeonghan. Guilt brews in your stomach every time you think about what happened, the look on his face, the hesitation in his actions, it’s all burned into your memory. You aren’t sure why you had cried so hard, and what compelled you to react to his comfort in that way, but you can’t help but feel sorry. All Jeonghan wanted to do was help you, and you pushed him away. 
You pick at the food on your plate as you're surrounded by the rowdiness of the dining hall, Soonyoung and Seokmin argue about something incoherable beside you. Tuning everything out, you can only think about Jeonghan, what he could possibly be doing right now, and if he’s thinking about you just like how you’re thinking of him. 
“Y/n, is everything okay?” your highly observant friend asks, his eyes practically piercing into your soul. 
Soonyoung and Seokmin go silent as they look at you and then back at Seungkwan, worried as to why you’re looking so glum. Seokmin who is sitting beside you, puts his arm around your shoulder, trying to comfort you, even though he isn’t sure why you’re so upset. 
“Huh? Yeah just thinking about that fight I had with my parents,” you frown, playing with the sad-looking mashed potatoes on your plate. Your fork makes patterns mindlessly as you keep recalling the look on their faces when you finally explode. 
“I’m sorry that happened Y/n, I’m sure they’ll come around eventually,” Seokmin whispers to you, patting your head. 
Glancing up at your friend, you return his smile half-heartedly. You weren’t sure how to tell them that you practically got disowned. The thought of it makes you feel like you’re about to throw up, but the thought of Jeonghan makes you feel even more sick. 
“I’m more worried about the fact that Jeonghan and I haven’t spoken since that night,” you sigh. “I pushed him away while he was trying to comfort me, and I’m sure he heard my parents call him all those nasty things, and I haven’t talked to him since then.” 
The three stooges look at each other, like they’re speaking telepathically before looking back at you with a pitiful expression. They all knew how involved you got with your roommate, but they weren’t aware of how deep you had gotten with him. Of course, they are worried, but they also understand that you’re old enough to make your own decisions. 
“I know we warned you about him darling, but I’m sure if you talk to him, you’ll be able to clear things up properly,” Seungkwan squeezes your hand reassuringly.
You give him a grateful look, thanking the universe once again for gifting you such good friends. 
“Fuck your parents actually, we’ll be your new family Y/nie,” Soonyoung gives you a deathly serious look, his goofiness causing a laugh to erupt from your lips. “Let us know what happens with Jeonghan when the time comes.” 
There’s a reason why your parents came to visit that night, and maybe this is the universe telling you that you needed to sever your connection with them so that you can finally be free. Allowing you to find a new family actually worth caring about. 
XII. 
The sound of your broken voice, the way you pushed him away, replays in Jeonghan’s head constantly. He tried everything to erase it from his memory. The non-stop partying, drinking, getting high with Joshua– nothing worked. Even before bed, when he starts to feel sleep take over him, his eyes shoot open again with the image of you screaming at him, crying deliriously. 
Then he remembers your warm smile, your laugh and the way it would delightfully ring through his ears. All the good memories he’s kept in his mind, all replaced with you. He continues to ask himself, how did this all come to be? After all the bickering, how did he end up falling for you? Was it the intimacy you two shared? Or did Jeonghan’s subconscious just know that you were meant to bring him down to earth, to be the one who pulls his head out of the clouds. 
For a long time, Jeonghan had known he was floating, soulless, just a shell of a human before you came along. No one has ever brought such an array of emotions out of him before. Constantly going through the motions of life, fucking a different girl every day, getting high to numb a pain he couldn’t pinpoint. 
He thought he knew himself enough, he thought that not having his mom around didn’t affect him. But it did, and the moment he told you about her absence, he started to realize that it affected him more than he’d like to admit.
It was the look in your eyes, the comfort that was behind them, the lack of pity but more of a sense of empathy. He just felt comfortable, he felt like he could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge him, or make him feel like he’s some charity case, you were just you.
Flashback to y/n and jeonghan bonding…
The ramen shop was practically done, with just a few more pieces left to spare before you two have completed the whole thing. Jeonghan sat beside you, both of your backs against the base of the couch, legs crisscrossed. 
It was the day after you two shared your first kiss, yet you couldn’t help but still act shy around him. Even though it was only a few hours after he had given you oral on the kitchen counter. There was minimal conversation between the two of you, just slowly putting pieces of Lego together. The silence was comfortable, and it surprised you how serene you felt just being around him.  It was still a little hard to believe because just a few days ago you couldn’t stand being around one another.
It wasn’t until Jeonghan decided to break that silence, making you believe he felt just as calm around you as you were with him.
“You know how I told you yesterday, that it was only me and my dad?” he speaks up. “Well, my mom would visit me from time to time, hoping my dad had money to spare whenever she went broke.”
You don't dare say a word, just listening to what he has to say, letting him finally pour his feelings into someone who actually cares about what he has to say. 
 “I would hold so much anger towards her. For not being there, for not caring about me or my dad unless money was involved,” he continued. “She would get what she wanted and leave the next day. No thank you, no calls, nothing. As a kid, I didn’t understand why she couldn’t just stay, or why she couldn’t just tell me once that she loved me. I still hold resentment towards her to this day.” 
He looked so sorrowful, and your heart aches for him, especially because you could relate to not hearing the words “I love you”, longing for that person to just tell you, even if it was only once. The constant begging, wishing upon a star that you would hear words of affection from someone who didn’t care, you knew it all too well. 
Instead of saying anything, you pull Jeonghan into a hug, tight to the point he could feel his lungs constrict. It wasn’t even from lack of air, only utter and complete surprise, as well as the shock of feeling sparks flowing throughout his body as you held him close. He didn’t say anything after that, just allowing himself to be held by you, allowing himself to feel an ounce of affection that he was never able to receive from his mother. It was to the point that tears almost spilled from his eyes, but he did his best to keep them at bay, his pride always preceding him in everything. 
It was that day that Jeonghan knew he couldn’t possibly let someone like you go so easily, and that if he really let himself, he could fall for you, hard. 
XIII.
The sound of the TV echoing throughout your apartment shocks you as you enter. You didn’t expect Jeonghan to be home so early, it makes you nervous. The same guilty feeling you felt earlier swirls in your stomach; your process of removing your winter coat is slow as you try to buy yourself time, preparing for what type of explanation you’re going to give him. 
You take a whole five minutes to get yourself settled before heading over to the living room, Jeonghan’s face glowing due to the light of the screen, his expression sombre. Probably because he knows you’re home, but is also unsure of whether or not to call out for you. 
The tension is thick, and it makes your saliva hard to swallow, but you want to talk to him. After everything that happened, you just miss his presence, his scent, his teasing, everything.
“Oh, look who decided to finally show up,” he glances at you, his eyes taking in your frame. 
You scoff, offended by how hostile he’s acting. Although you can’t blame him for not welcoming you with open arms, you didn’t expect him to act like this. 
“I could say the same thing for you,” you spit, your face burning with a growing anger. 
Jeonghan lets out a bitter laugh, and it makes you grimace, you can’t believe his reaction, he’s acting the same way he did when he first met you. His anger always besting him, even when he knows nothing good will come from it. 
“Just didn’t want to overstep, you were pissed off at me the last time I saw you,” he scoffs, pausing the show he was watching on the TV. 
He stares at you, waiting for your next move. The look on his face is comparable to when you first met him, when you two first fought. It wasn’t the Jeonghan you had grown used to. 
“I didn’t mean to push you away, and I’m sorry, I was in a really bad state and I wasn’t thinking right,” you exasperate. Your hands flailing all over the place trying to explain your actions from that night. 
Jeonghan doesn’t move a muscle, he’s obviously hurt by what you did. But you are even more hurt, having to finally face your parents and watch them admit to caring about you. Them always avoiding your pleas of just admitting they didn’t really love you, spoke louder than any words they could’ve ever said. If there was one person in the world who could understand that pain, it should be Jeonghan.But here he is, his own hurt and rejection turning into the anger that he’s directing at you. 
“We could’ve talked after you had calmed down, I thought you knew I would be there for you, but you ignored me,” he raises his voice, standing up from the couch to meet eye-to-eye with you. 
As he stalks over, your voice becomes caught in your throat. He towers over you, the blazing frustration prominent in his eyes, and yet you know him well enough to know that it’s all a front for his hurt. 
“I don’t know why I didn’t and I’m sorry, how many times do I have to tell you?” You articulated. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me after what happened, after what my parents called you! I’m ashamed at the fact they misjudged you like that.” 
“I don’t care about what your parents think of me, I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, I only care what you have to say.” 
“W-what?” you stutter, not sure what point Jeonghan is trying to make. 
He sighs, running his hands through his long hair. It annoyed you how good-looking he is, even when you two are in the middle of screaming at each other. Your resolve slowly starts to chip away the longer you look at him. 
“You really think those hookups meant nothing to me? I confided in you about something I’ve never told anyone, not even Josh,” he admits, his breathing picking up as he stares at you, searching your eyes for any indication that you felt the same. 
His words resound through the apartment, and you feel it send a shock down your spine. You thought everything you felt for him was one-sided, that you would eventually get hurt by the fact that he could never reciprocate your feelings. The once playboy who you thought didn’t surrender to any woman, let alone someone who you thought he hated not too long ago, is surrendering his feelings to you. 
“You care about me?” is the first question you ask. 
“Of course, I care about you Y/n. I can’t sleep or eat properly because you’re tormenting every crevice of my brain. I thought I was going crazy because no one has ever had this effect on me,” he confesses, his eyes still trained on yours. “Every waking moment, when I’m asleep, you’re all I can think about. A-and it’s so frustrating, it’s frustrating how I just want to be around you all the time, I just want to care for you.” 
You don’t even know what to say, your mouth goes dry. Jeonghan can see that you’re struggling to find the words, and he takes it as a sign that you don’t feel the same way. His body slowly moves away from yours, trying to remove himself from the scene, not wanting to wait to hear your rejection. 
“I like you too,” you finally reply. 
Words so simple compared to Jeonghan’s confession, and yet the surge of emotion it brought out of him is of a higher magnitude even he cannot understand. The swell in his chest, his heart beating a hundred miles an hour after hearing you confess in such a simple way. All he cares about is that you feel the same. 
Instead of saying more, you just pull him into a kiss, allowing his lips to dance against yours, and that’s enough for him. Your actions do all the talking for you. 
“Say it again,” he mumbles, his lips close enough to yours that you could his breath fan your face. 
“I like you, Jeonghan.” 
He captures you again, moving against you till your back is pressed against the wall. Caged in his hold, his hands tighten on your waist, not wanting to let you slip away from him any longer. His tongue slipped past your mouth, licking you up with so much passion but still filled with care and tenderness. 
You moan as his hands rub against your sides, feeling him everywhere, breathing in his scent. His hand moves to the back of your head, not wanting you to feel any discomfort from being flush with the wall. It’s the small things that he does, his calculated actions always making your heart swell. You know it’s probably a force of habit, but the fact that he doesn’t anyway reveals his caring nature, a piece of him you never thought existed till you started hooking up with him. 
“I want you,” you break away from the kiss to tell him. 
You search his eyes, examining how they’ve gotten heavy with lust, you know he felt the same. Jeonghan only nods, taking your hand to bring you to the room. You know what’s coming, and you initiated it. Even though you asked for it, the nervousness in your stomach still doesn’t subside. 
The lights were dim, the sunset leaking past your curtains, making your skin glow angelically. Jeonghan stares at you with awe, your features highlighted by the gleam of the sun rays. He knows you’re beautiful, he admires you even when you don't notice it. But there is something about the way you look right now, the anticipation of this moment, as well as your nervous blush; it causes all his thoughts to come to a halt the moment his gaze lands on you. 
“Please Jeonghan, fuck me,” you beg him, the arousal between your legs gets harder to ignore with each second that passes, “I’m ready.” 
“Whatever you want, as long as you’re sure,” He gives you a serious look, just wanting some form of consent. 
“Yes please,” you whine, reattaching your lips on his. 
He doesn’t hesitate anymore, allowing himself to get drunk on your touch instead. Slowly moving over to the bed, you feel the back of your knees hit the mattress. You let yourself fall, Jeonghan laying on top of you, showing you no mercy as he places kisses tenderly along the base of your neck. Soft exhales leave your lips as he continues to shower you with affection, the now-familiar feeling of pleasure swirling in your stomach once again. 
Jeonghan takes his time, he’s in no particular rush when it comes to you. All his past hookups were finished within an hour or so. With you it’s different, he could adorn your body with love till morning, and some more after that. He sucks and licks your neck till bruises form, then sits back to admire his work. The smirk on his face is filled with satisfaction, your needy gaze causing his hardening member to constrict against his jeans. 
“I wanna make you feel good first,” He declared, giving you space to properly lay down on your bed, your clothed core facing him, legs spread. 
He moves down, laying between your thighs, unbuttoning your jeans without a word. His teasing nature comes into play as he spends an excruciatingly long time taking off your clothes. The impatience that you’re feeling starts to grow, taking off your shirt and bra as he finishes removing the remaining clothes from your bottom half. 
He chuckles at your enthusiasm, his face so close to your core that his nose nudges your clit slightly. The shocks of pleasure crawling up your spine and he’s barely laid a finger where you need him most. 
“So needy, I adore that about you,” he mumbles.
He peppers soft kisses up your legs till he latches his lips on your pussy. Licking your folds all while he ignores your swelling bud. He could practically feel it pulsing every time he brushed past it slightly. Jeonghan loves the way you taste, so sweet and wet, your juices leaking past your entrance and onto your sheets. If he could, he would just stare at you from this position for hours. Watching you whine and writhe within his hold, begging for him to touch you. 
“I need you to eat me out,” you keep begging, “make me cum please.” 
“Such filthy words coming out of that pretty little mouth,” he tsks, but he gives in to your request anyway.
His tongue lays a flat strip against your mound, licking up what’s left of your dripping arousal. One hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread, while his free hand teased your entrance before fully plunging two fingers in. The feeling of his fingers filling up your hold causes you to let out a salacious moan, your back arching off the bed. You look like you came straight out of a porn movie and Jeonghan can’t take his eyes off your expression. 
His long slender fingers hit you right where you need it, making you keen, the sound of your wetness squelching is like music to Jeonghan’s ears. Stars are starting to form behind your eyelids as his tongue suckles on your clit, getting you close to completion embarrassingly fast. 
Your hands move down to grip Jeonghan’s hair, pulling at the strands as you try your best to focus on your orgasm, thoughts of him fucking you on your bed filling your thoughts. Imagining his length slide inside you triggers your release, the gush of your arousal filling his mouth. Jeonghan groans, your tight pussy gripping his fingers as he feels you cum. 
“Mmh Hannie,” your words are barely discernable as you try to come down from your high. 
He moves back up to place a kiss on your lips before getting rid of his clothes. You watch him with a fucked-out look. Eyes lidded, pupils blown, you’re practically salivating as you stare at Jeonghan’s slender but toned frame. He smirks when he notices you ogling, moving to hover over you, the feeling of his hard cock brushing past your leg. 
Placing his lips back on yours, you two lay there for a minute, kissing and touching each other. Jeonghan just wants to savour you as if this moment is his last, even though that is not the case, he will continue to treat you this way till there’s a time when he can’t do so anymore. 
“Please, fuck me, please I need it,” you blabber against his lips, not wanting to wait another second. 
“Do you have a condom?” He pulls away to ask you. 
“I want it raw. I’m clean, promise,” you tell him in between kisses. 
The moment you mentioned fucking raw, it’s like Jeonghan’s brain went haywire, thoughts of feeling you completely plague his brain. The thought of getting to feel you without the thin plastic in the way, he would die happily with a smile on his face. 
“Fuck are you sure? I’m clean too, but are you really sure baby?” He continues to ask you, not wanting this to be a rash decision you would regret after. 
“I’m on the pill, it’s ok, trust me,” you assure him, the neediness in your voice becoming stronger. 
Jeonghan’s member twitches against you, making you aware of the fact that he likes the idea of it all. He mumbles incoherent swears against your lips as he tries to collect himself, not wanting to blow a load prematurely. He may be experienced but the thought of fucking you raw could get him to cum untouched. 
He doesn’t miss a beat, moving to sit back on his heels, lining up his dick with your entrance, the tip red and leaking with precum. He rubs it against your folds to coat himself in your slick before collecting his spit, the saliva dropping onto his shaft and adding to the lubrication. Moans leave your lips as you feel his prod at you with his length, the pleasure going off in waves. Looking down, he watches his member gliding against your pussy lips, and you just watch him enjoy himself. It's agonizing, being this close and still not feeling him enter. 
“I’m going crazy, please, just put it in,” you whine, laying with your elbows supporting you, watching Jeonghan tease you relentlessly. 
“You better watch your mouth before I make you suck me off instead,” he warns you, his domineering side coming out again. 
You shut up quickly, trying to calm yourself before you combust with impatience. Something about Jeonghan makes you so needy for him, the eagerness to feel him finally fuck you after not having any penetrative sex starting to pile up on you. You’re a virgin but for Jeonghan it was like another version of you unleashes itself when he’s pleasuring you. Constantly craving his touch, wanting to feel his mouth on you, he’s just so addictive. 
Jeonghan finally pushes himself past your entrance, letting his cock fill you completely. Tears start to sting your eyes from the stretch, you knew it was going to hurt, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this feeling. He doesn’t stop though, slowly thrusting in and out till you get used to the feeling. 
The discomfort leaves shortly after, letting pleasure rush through your veins, and you whine out for him, your head thrown back against your pillow. His length continues to hit that sensitive part against your walls, making you clench around him. 
“F-fuck you’re so tight,” He groans, removing himself from your sopping core till only his tip remains. 
Jeonghan takes the back of your thighs, pushing them against your chest before thrusting into you again. The angle is deeper this time and you almost let out a scream as he grinds his hips against yours. 
“Jeonghan, feels so good,” you call out deliriously, your brain hazed with pleasure. 
He leans in so the two of you are chest to chest, peppering your face with kisses as he continues you fuck you. The feeling of your tight walls constricting against his dick is making him twitch inside you. He’s never had raw sex with anyone before, but now that he knows what it feels like, he won’t ever go back, but only for you. You’re the only one he wants to see filled with his cum. The only one who he gets to plant his seed in and watch it drip out after. 
“Shit,” Jeonghan swears, feeling your grip on him. 
Your pussy starts to convulse with every thrust, and he knows you’re about to cum. Taking things up a notch, he begins to pound himself into you, and the sound of skin slapping echoes throughout your room. His hand snakes down to your clit to rub it in circles, making your vision go white. 
He leans back again, holding your legs open and in the air, hypnotizing himself with the sight of his member disappearing inside you. The feeling of his orgasm coming closer as you continue squeezing him tight. 
“Gonna cum,” you moan, your chest pounding, pussy sore from the beating it’s taking. 
Jeonghan knows he’s close too, and once he senses your orgasm on his cock he cums shortly after, groaning as he fills you to the brim. The feeling of his cum spilling in you satisfies you in a way you didn’t think was possible, and you know you’re going to be asking him to do so every time. 
“You make me crazy, that’s the best orgasm I’ve had,” he admits. 
Jeonghan’s breathing is laboured, letting go of your legs as he lays himself against your chest. You brush through his hair while giggling at his sudden confession, it makes you blush, especially knowing his history. You could still feel him inside you, and for some reason you liked it, just having him lay there with his length engulfed in your walls. 
“Who would’ve thought we would’ve ended up like this,” you mumble, still running your fingers through his strands, his face smothered in your breasts, kissing them tenderly. 
“You put a spell on me or something,” his voice muffled into your chest, “I’m obsessed with you now, so you can’t get rid of me.” 
You laugh at his declaration, kissing the top of his head. The fact that he’s clingy with you after sex is surprising, but endearing at the same time. 
“Do you want to finish building our ramen shop?” Jeonghan asks, lifting his face from where he’s lying on you.
You give him an inquisitive look, wondering why that’s the first thing he asks you after he just defiled you and took your virginity. But you don’t mind it either, you had almost forgotten about the scattered pieces that sat on top of the coffee table, waiting to be completed. 
“We can if you want, but maybe we should clean up first,” you giggle. 
The sound of your laughter rings through Jeonghan’s ears, making his chest swell with happiness. He never thought that the sound of your voice would bring him so much joy. The initial dread when he heard your voice turned into something more. It may be too early to tell you he loves you, but he knows he’s getting there, and this time he isn’t scared. This time Jeonghan doesn’t mind the fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you, or the fact that sparks fly when you touch him. 
He had once thought that he was going mad because of the emotions you evoked out of him, but now he understands. He understands that he’s meant to fall for you; the angel who came down to earth to teach him that there's more to life than just going through the motions. 
Epilogue. 
“Seugkwan,” your boyfriend grimaces as he sees your best friend approach your table in the dining hall. 
“Jeonghan.”
Seungkwan gives Jeonghan a good look up and down, his analytical eyes scanning him as if he can see through your boyfriend's soul. He glowers at the way Jeonghan’s hand holds your thigh possesively, hating how easily it was for him to slither his way into your mind and dicknotize you. 
That’s what Seungkwan likes to call it, scolding you about how Jeonghan hypnotized you with his dick. You found it silly how he could come up with such a word, but for some reason, it’s now a coined term within your friend group. 
“Kwan, are you going to just stare at him all day or are you going to sit down?” You sigh, wondering why the two of them just don’t seem to get along. 
Seungkwan huffs, his stubborn personality not allowing him to sit down till he’s won, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to win, but his watchful gaze on Jeonghan keeps him standing. 
“That depends, will Jeonghan disappear if I decide to take a seat?” He rebutted, his chin held up high. 
You laugh at how dramatic he is, but you know that Seungkwan acknowledges how much Jeonghan has changed. Even after knowing him for so many years, he’s seen how much nicer Jeonghan has been to him and the two dummies named Soonyoung and Seokmin.
“No, he won’t, unfortunately,” you sigh, “but I want you here, so sit.” 
“Yeah, Seungkwan sit,” Jeonghan smirks, until he realizes what you had just said, “Wait what? Unfortunately? Baby, why would you say that?” 
Seungkwan laughs at Jeonghan’s butt-hurt face, finally taking a seat across from the two of you. He watches as Jeonghan pesters you on what you meant by “unfortunately”. Whining about how you said that you would stop teasing him in front of your friends. 
Even though Seungkwan likes to pretend that he doesn’t like Jeonghan, he’s really started to see Jeonghan's true personality when he’s not acting like a complete asshole. And as long as he’s treating you right, he doesn’t actually care if you two are dating. If you're happy, Seungkwan’s happy. 
“Okay! Stop acting like a kid, I was just joking,” you groan, covering Jeonghan’s mouth with your palm. “Anyways, now that he’s silenced, how was your weekend?” 
Before Seungkwan could answer your question, Jeonghan’s tongue shoots out to lick your palm. A shriek to erupts from your lips, pulling your hand away from his mouth. You turn to him with a horrified look on your face, only to see him smirking back at you. 
“Gross! Don’t do that again!” you smack the back of his head lightly. 
“Ow! I’ve done worse to you, why are you mad!” Jeonghan argued, rubbing the spot on his head where you hit him. 
“Jeonghan, enough! We’re in public,” you whisper at him, curious eyes around the dining hall peering at the two of you. 
Seungkwan only laughs, watching you scold him like he’s a dog who ate food off the dinner table. 
You sigh at him as you fake your anger, the amused glint in your eyes reflecting in the light as you watch Jeonghan pout. It’s funny to see him this way, playful and clingy. You didn’t expect that side of him to come out in public, but you’re glad that he feels comfortable enough to act childlike around you and your friends. 
Being able to witness this side of him brings you a lot of happiness, even though you two are constantly bickering, it’s all for laughs this time. When you two first met, the fighting was real and unforgiving, you thought you hated Jeonghan. But the universe had different plans in mind, and even though it was unexpected, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
end.
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© wonustars
𖦹 a/n: that's all! thank you for reading and i hoped you liked it :3!! don't be afraid to send me an ask or comment, and reblog. i appceiate your support 💞
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littledovesnow · 5 months
Text
a growing family pt. 2
a/n: yay for part 2!! read part one here
word count: 1.8k
warnings: pregnancy, pretty canon-level violence and stuff i think. also i'm sorry in advance about this part <3
-----
"Now, Mr. Snow, you and your wife leave tomorrow for your District Tour." Lucky Flickerman spoke into microphone, eyes bouncing between Coriolanus and you.
Coriolanus nodded, not quite sure where this was going. He was briefed on the. main topics that Flickerman would go over during the interview and this was not one of them.
"Is there any worry about the twins? Congratulations, by the way! Twins! How lucky are you!"
You smiled, patting your husband's hand to signal that you would answer this question.
"Thank you, Lucky," you started, sweet smile on your face. "I've been in conversation with my medical team, and we've all come to an agreement that it's quite safe for me to travel with Coriolanus and the rest of his cabinet. I'm not due for another couple of months, anyway."
Coriolanus smiled at you, voicing his answer, as well. "We've also spoken to the OB/GYN, and she will be joining us on the latter half of the tour. We hope she can just enjoy the travel, not needed for any medical emergencies."
Lucky nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Now, Coriolanus, you've mentioned in some changes to the Hunger Games in the coming years. We've had questions coming in from watchers, but first, a few words from our generous sponsors."
The red light went off on top of the cameras, and you let the superficial smile fall from your face, hand going to rub your lower back.
"Your back still hurt, love?" Coriolanus asked, noticing your discomfort.
"I think our kids are going to be soccer professional, Coryo." You grumbled, one of the twins had been kicking mercilessly for a few weeks.
Coriolanus chuckled, removing your hand, using his palm to massage the area. "Well, you can tell them off when they're out here."
Lucky, who had been observing the couple from his spot on the seat across from them, wore a smile. "One thing that my wife asked I do when she was pregnant with Caesar was massage her back every night. Sometimes she still makes me do it."
You smiled at the TV host, humming. "Not a bad idea. Coryo, I think I know what your next job will be."
Coriolanus snorted, hand still massaging your back. "Anything for the mother of my children."
-----
The train car you were currently seated in was more luxurious than you remembered, seats having been upholstered from your last trip out of the Capitol.
You looked away from the mountain ranges decorating the horizon when the door opened, Coriolanus entering.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, coming to sit in the seat across from you, moving your feet from the seat to his lap.
Humming, you leant your head back as he began massaging them. "Better now. What was that meeting for? I thought you had travel days free."
Coriolanus pondered over how to answer, not wanting to tell you he had just had some rebels executed for a potential threat in Six. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."
Opening an eye to look at him, you could read the man like an open book. "How many were there?"
There was a beat of silence before Coriolanus spoke up.
"Four. Would have been three but some things you can't avoid."
You didn't reply, simply wiggling your foot when Coriolanus' hands stopped massaging the arch of your foot.
He laughed, resuming the action as you two watched the mountain ranges and nature outside of the train.
-----
You yawned, staring at the ceiling of the Crane's hotel in District Three. It was nearing one in the morning, and you had gotten a sum total of about two and a half hours since you and Coriolanus crawled into the bed.
Moving as quietly as you could, you rose from the bed, waiting a beat to see if Coriolanus woke up.
His rather loud snore told you he was still off dreaming, something you were thankful for. He had a lot on his shoulders, and you didn't want to add onto the never-ending pile of worry and stress with the upcoming election.
Moving to the bathroom, you softly closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. The twins had been keeping you up at night more frequently, and your OB/GYN said it was just because while they were starting to get a regular sleep pattern, they couldn't tell day from night and often slept during the day.
When you opened the door, you frowned when you saw your husband sitting up in the bed, cheek still indented from the creases in the pillow.
"What are you doing up?" He asked, voice hoarse from sleep.
Rubbing one hand across your ever-growing bump, sleepily blinking at the man across from you. "Your children are wide awake, it seems."
Coriolanus smiled, patting the spot you had previously occupied. "Come here, I'll rub your back."
With the promise of that, you made your way back into the bed, stuffing one of the many pillows on the bed between your knees.
"Oh, well hello, little one."
You looked at where Coriolanus was staring at your bump, tiny foot barely visible. "Oh that's the most disturbing thing I think I've ever seen."
"Don't say that!" Coriolanus chided, though there was a smile on his face. "That's your child in there!"
"Coryo, you shouldn't be able to see their hands from outside!" You laughed, even though your OB/GYN said it was very possible to start to see little hands and feet as there became less and less free space.
Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your hairline, rubbing the place where the foot was. "Hi, babies. Please let your mother sleep, she needs to help me win over the hearts of Panem."
Rolling your eyes, you moved Coriolanus' hand to your back, letting your head fall back against a pillow. "Rub my back."
"Yes dear."
-----
Hand clasped tightly in Coriolanus' you two followed the Peacekeepers to the barracks to meet with the district's mayor and Commanding Peacekeeper.
You two had won the hearts over a majority of each District you've visited, but as you two traveled farther from the Capitol, you knew it would be more difficult and the chance of threats and rebels increased.
The number of Peacekeepers surrounding you two had grown within each stop, Coriolanus wanting to make sure nothing happened to his wife and mother of his children, his heirs.
"Mr. and Mrs. Snow, we're very pleased you two could be here!" The mayor smiled, shaking both of your hands.
You returned the sentiment, eyes locked on the plush-looking chair behind him. "Is it alright if I sit? My feet are killing me."
The mayor, who seemed to have just realized how large your bump had grown, nodded quickly, gesturing to the chair you had pointed to.
Coriolanus stood behind you, one hand smoothing your hair as he and the mayor discussed the afternoon's speeches and tour around the main hub.
"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Snow?"
"No, she's been feeling a little more tired." Coriolanus replied before you could speak up.
The mayor frowned, seemingly disappointed.
"Is there a problem?" You asked, feeling Coriolanus' hand still at the nape of your neck.
"Well, the children here have been so excited to meet you, but I'm sure seeing Mr. Snow will be just as fine."
Coriolanus knew you had a soft spot for children, how they still saw the best in everything. "Love, you barely slept last night. It's safer if you rest."
"Coryo, it won't be too long. And besides, we have a couple travel days I can catch up on sleep."
You ignored your husband's deep frown, instead smiling at the mayor. "We can't possibly let the kids down, can we?"
The mayor clapped happily, rising from his seat. "Well then, shall we go?"
You stood from the chair with some help from your husband, who placed a hand on your lower back, unable to keep his hands off of you.
"You're a spoiled brat, you know that?" He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"And you love me for it." You replied, sharp smile on your face.
-----
Coriolanus watched as you followed a few of the schoolchildren around the classroom, letting them explain the backgrounds of their various posters and projects.
"She's going to be a wonderful mother." The mayor spoke, standing next to Coriolanus.
He nodded, watching you kneel down to listen more to a rather small girl, your eyes focused on her entirely. "She already is."
"Mr. Snow, Mayor, we're going to be late if we don't head for the town square now."
Nodding, Coriolanus walked over to your side, kneeling down next to you and the young girl. "Hi, love. Mind introducing me to your friend?"
You looked at your husband, and then at the young girl. "Coryo, meet Clementine. Her friends call her Clemmie."
Coriolanus saw the twinkle in your eye as you looked back at the girl. "It's lovely to meet you, Clemmie. You know, Mrs. Snow and I have a friend named Clemmie."
"Really?" Little Clementine asked, eyes wide.
Nodding, Coriolanus helped you stand up straight. "We do, but don't worry, we can have two Clemmies. Now, I do have to steal Mrs. Snow now, we have to go to town square."
Clementine pouted, but nodded. "It was nice to meet you!"
"You, too, Clemmie! Good luck with your new brother!" You smiled, squeezing Coriolanus' hand as the two of you followed some Peacekeepers out of the school and down to the town square and stage.
You've only seen the stage on television for the Reaping Ceremonies, it looked larger on screen. "She was so sweet, Coryo. She was telling me how her mother looked like me and now she has a little brother."
Coriolanus smiled, thumb rubbing your hand. "That's very sweet. I'm sure you made her ent-"
A loud explosion cut Coriolanus off, Peacekeepers immediately springing into action, separating the two of you to get you both to safety.
There were a few more explosions around the stage, sending debris and dirt in the air.
"Coryo!" You called, trying to wriggle out of the Peacekeepers' grip and find your husband.
You coughed as you inhaled smoke, eyes wide to spot Coriolanus. "Let me go! I need to find Coriolanus!"
"Ma'am, you need to come with us! We have orders to bring both you and Mr. Snow to a safe room, please cooperate."
You had a disdain for the Peacekeeper who spoke to you rather harshly, feeling his hands tighten their grip on your bicep.
Stumbling a few times, you had finally made it to the small bunker, heart hammering when you saw Coriolanus and the mayor already in there, dirt on both of their faces and clothing.
"Love," Coriolanus sighed in relief, though it was short-lived as he ran his eyes over your body. "Love, you're bleeding."
-----
a/n: oh how i love a good cliff-hanger
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quinnylouhughesx43 · 15 days
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“He's been a bit of a jerk”
Summary: quinn suddenly ditches his childhood best friend on new years eve when they have spent every NYE together since they were 6. luke saves the night
Warnings: use of y/n and I think one or two uses of y/n/n, only brief mentions of quinn not actually active in fic but substantial to the plot, like has internal dialogue via italics, if I missed anything please let me know
Word Count: 1.8k
requested: yes - “luke pining after Quinn’s best friends and he finally gets the girl.”
Authors Note: edited as may 31, 2024 - if you read before May 31 the word count is now 800 more than it is was previously 🫣
part 2
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On the frost-tipped grass, (Y/N) sat beneath a canopy of stars, her back propped against the rough bark of an old oak tree. A light dusting of snow had settled over the ground, transforming the world into a perfect winter wonderland. She shivered, not necessarily from the cold evening, but from the heart wrenching realization that tonight was supposed to go different. It was New Year's Eve, and every year since they were six, she and her childhood best friend, Quinn had celebrated together. But this year, he had up and ditched her last minute. Just like that. He gave her zero explanation and no apology. He had just vanished into the night with his middle brother, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. Which when he left for the NHL was pretty hard to top, yet he somehow managed to do it when he was only somewhere in the same town. The two barely get to see each other anymore as it is. He lives in Vancouver and she lives in Michigan. Quinn flies her out to a few games a season and of course she attends any Canucks vs Redwings games as well as Canucks vs Devils games. However the time the two have available with one another is so restricted at that time, she may as well be just another fan in the arena.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching through the frosted snow. A warm blanket was draped over her shoulders, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate was pressed into her hands. She looked up, her eyes falling on her best friend’s youngest brother, Luke, as he joined her. She briefly looked over his features, his cheeks were already flushed from the growing colder night, but the smile he gave her was warm and genuine.
"Hey, (Y/N)," he whispered as if they were amongst a huge crowd of people and not alone in an empty yard. His voice still highly audible over the silence of the night. "I came out here for a few reasons but one being because I…” Luke’s words ran out into the night. His right hand pulling off his beanie then he was slipping his fingers through his messy curls. A tell tale sign he was nervous about whatever he was about to say. “I wanted to apologize for what Quinn did to you tonight. He had no right to leave you like that. I don’t know what is going on with him and what would make him decide to leave behind the one person who has been consistent for him that isn’t family. The one person in his life that still sees him as Quinn and not as big shot Quinn..” Luke shoved his beanie back on and sighed. He had been looking up at the night sky watching the night clouds move uncovering the stars. “He has been a bit of a jerk here lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop him."
(Y/N) smiled weakly at the rambling boy next to her. Her gaze slowly drifting back up to the now clear sky and where the stars were twinkling like Christmas lights. "It's fine, really. I mean, it stung a lot at first, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged halfheartedly. "I'm just glad you were here tonight." The butterflies in Luke’s stomach flapped back to life and were going insane at her last statement. “Who knows Lukey. Maybe we can start our own tradition together this New Year’s.” Luke was watching her body languagefor any signs of a joke before speaking up. “I wouldn’t mind. It would teach Quinn to ditch someone as special as you.” (Y/N) slightly smiled, still looking up at the stars. “Special? No. Just me Luke.” (Y/N) argued, Luke didn’t want to have the silly argument back and forth. He knew just how special she is. Given the chance he would show her too. After all, a girl like her deserves to be treated, loved, and respected the way she treats, loves, and respects everyone else. (Y/N) was the girl has sought after ever since Luke stopped thinking he was supposed to marry his mom when he was older. Luke shook his head and groaned at her words. “One day (Y/N/N). Just you wait, one day you’ll know just how special you truly are.” He tells her before they fell into another comfortable silent state. His words confidently spilled out. (Y/N) turned her head opposite from Luke so he couldn’t see the true smile she was wearing across her face because of him. She also hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat as a result of his words.
The silence stretched between them, as she snuggled further into the blanket, (y/n) suddenly became aware that Luke was only wearing a thin jacket as he shivered. She glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his. "Here," she said, pulling the blanket off from around her shoulders. "You can have this. It's getting kind of cold out here." Luke hesitated for a moment, debating on offering to share the blanket. "No, really. It's fine. I'm warm enough." She shot him a glare. “Luke Warren Hughes. I just saw you shiver.” Her tone, at best, was barely strict. He held eye contact waiting for her to continue, he could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “If you won’t take it for yourself, we will share it.” She says wrapping it around him and snuggling into his side. Luke was trying his best to calm the butterflies and his racing heart. While also fighting the mental battle on if he should shoot his shot at midnight.
(Y/N) is the girl I have wanted for years now. She is right here. Cuddling into my side, a couple moves and I could easily be her new year’s kiss. If she hates it? I just play it off as a friendly new year’s kiss. Her and Quinn have been each other’s midnight kiss before, I can play it off as if I’m filling his shoes if she questions me and she’s angry. I can do this. I can do this. I think I can do this?
As midnight was quickly approaching the air was thick with anticipation between the both of them and more people were gathering outside.
The countdowns echoed throughout the night, each one louder than the last.
Fireworks lit up the sky, casting a multitude of colors over everyone. The fireworks also casting iridescent colors across the blanket of snow on the ground. Making a beautiful picturesque scene.
Luke decided it was definitely now or never. He may not have done it 12am but right now under the colorful display of the many fireworks was perfect. He smiled down at (Y/N), feeling a warmth spread through his chest, for the first time the butterflies in his stomach calmed. He leaned in, his breath fanning her cheek. "Happy New Year, (Y/n)." She felt his lips brush against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. That is when he froze up. Her reaction to his lips barely touching her sent his heart racing. He was scared she was going to send him flying into the snow. Her best friend’s baby brother’s lips just touched her. But she didn’t move. She was waiting? Luke quickly finished his well wishes to her before she snapped out of it, "I hope this year brings you everything you wish for." Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled back, their gazes locked.
“Do it Luke. Her eyes are basically screaming, begging for you to.” why do you have to be in my head now jack dear god please shut up.
In a seconds time he was leaning back in, his left hand making its way softly to the back of her head. His fingers interlacing in her hair. (Y/N)’s breaths were slow and deep awaiting Luke’s next move. “Tell me if this isn’t something you want.” Luke swallows down the anxiety he was feeling. Mentally silencing the jack he hears in his head telling him to go for it. “Because once I do this once.. I’m going to want to do this again and again. Everyday for the next foreseeable future.” Luke’s voice was trembling in want, desire, need. All of his feelings rushing to the forefront of his mind. “Shut up and kiss me Luke.” (Y/N) sighed grasping his face pulling him to her.
As their lips touched, the grand finale of the fireworks show was set off. The energy of the grand finale matching the energy sparking off the two of them. Luke and (y/n)’s kiss was hot enough to melt the snow underneath them. The way their mouths moved in perfect harmony. The small nips Luke made against her bottom lip as he pulled away. It left them both wanting more, needing more.
“Remind me to thank my brother for being an ass.” Luke mumbles against her lips before getting lost in another languid kiss. “Lukey let’s go home. It’s the new year, I’m cold and I also want to thank Quinn, because now I know who the better kisser is...well I’ve not kissed Jack.” She pauses and makes a playful gagging noise. “And because it finally got you to make a move.” Luke’s face went more red than it already was where it was tinged from the cold. “That..what?” He was baffled by her admittance . “I had my assumptions. I’m just happy I wasn’t wrong. Now let’s goooo. I wanna go get in bed and get warm.” (Y/N) sent a wink his way.
She was hinting towards cuddling. But with how fast Luke was grabbing up the blankets that they had been sitting on and were wrapped up in, before grabbing her hand and heading to the car…She is pretty sure his mind went a different direction.
“Quinn now owes me $10, he said you didn’t like me.” (Y/N) says once they were in the car and headed down the road. “You two had a bet on if I had a crush on you or not?” Luke laughed while asking. “No we had a bet on if you even liked me as a person. Because you avoided me. He’s going to be so shocked to know that you like-like me.” She clarifies with a giggle when she says ‘like-like’. Luke rolls his eyes at the thought of his older brother being naive enough to believe he didn’t like his best friend. “So back to what you said earlier tonight…Same thing and same place next new year’s?” Luke asks her. She nods with a smile. “New tradition, with you. Starting this year.” (Y/N) confirms with a nod. “Only maybe we hang out inside until right before midnight.” She adds grabbing for Luke’s hand to wrap both of her freezing ones around. The two sat in a comfortable silence stealing quick glances, with smiles plastered across their faces, and glimmers in their eyes the rest of the way to the Hughes home.
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colleendoran · 1 year
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How Do I Do Stuff
The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.
I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.
Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.
I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.
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I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.
This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.
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I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.
This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.
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But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.
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He's pretty, too.
If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.
Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.
Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.
Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.
However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.
Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.
The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.
Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.
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I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.
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While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.
So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.
If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.
Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.
Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.
So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.
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casualhedonists · 3 months
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so scarlet, it was maroon (18+)
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pairing: coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: nsfw (18+), praise kink, oral sex, fingering (fem receiving), overstimulation, secrecy (kinda), multiple orgasms, bruising, biting, pre-tbosas, academy!coryo, he's also more dominant in this! yay dom coryo, this is a little rough but super consensually so
main masterlist // coryo masterlist
a/n: what's the point in getting laid if you can't use it as smut writing inspo? serious question
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Your body gets littered with bruises every time you wake up next to Coriolanus. It doesn't matter if he means to leave them; it just sort of happens.
He fingers you open right there in his room, you grip his wrist as he smiles against your mouth like he’s not doing anything lewd, like Tigris and his Grandma’am weren’t right downstairs, cooking dinner. Your other hand twisting into his hair and pulling hard. His hands are a lot bigger than yours, they can reach places you usually can’t. You figured that out fast; almost as fast as he did.
He fucks his fingers into you like he doesn’t care if people hear. It feels dangerous, like you’re teetering on the edge of a building, brushing the sky and about to tumble down. You’re almost embarrassed by how easily he’s reading you like a fucking book, fingers pressed between the pages, carving notes into the margins. Your own hand presses against your mouth because you know his won’t, and you’re holding onto your last shred of dignity as tightly as you’re grabbing his hair. You don’t know where you wish he would look; between your spread legs or at the look on your face as you come undone. You’re glad it’s the former as your face contorts and he fucks you harder, any more and you might shatter.
You whimper, broken moans muffled into his neck. You hear the smile in his voice as he speaks.
“Oh, you’re fun.”
You melt. Try to whisper something back, some half-assed attempt at a rebuttal that you forget as soon as it leaves your lips.
You stare up the ceiling, ears ringing, a thin cast of sweat covering you over. You barely notice how he moves between your legs, shoulders shifting to push your thighs apart even more. You moan just at the sight of it, both of your hands now in his hair like they were drawn by some magnetic pull. He doesn’t waste time, doesn’t let your high die down. You guide his head where you want it but he doesn’t really need the direction, so as he speeds up you use the pull on his locks to buck up towards his mouth. He doesn’t let this last; pins you down again until you’re squirming on his tongue.
When he slides his fingers back into your cunt you forget being quiet, a cry slips out that only makes him move faster, like he’s desperate to hear more, to know exactly what he’s doing to you. He stops every so often, teeth nipping at your inner thighs, making you jerk with the pressure.
He holds you down as you cum against his tongue, lips pulling into a smirk as his thumb presses into your clit making you jolt.
You hear Tigris call up that dinner is ready, and fuck, it’s like he timed it to leave you flushed and fucked out while you tried to get through dinner with his cousin and grandmother.
The next day when you shower, you notice a bruise blooming on your arm, and much to your surprise, a second on your thigh, dark and bite-shaped. You drag him into a bathroom stall between classes and lift your skirt.
“This is your fault.” You say pointedly. His eyes darken at the sight of it, tracing it with his thumb. your breath hitches.
“Not here.” you hiss. “Fuck, I'm still sore.”
“Can you come over tomorrow night?” he asks absentmindedly. You frown.
“Is that okay?”
“Grandma’am loved you. Tigris, too, obviously. They’re glad that I found a good Capitol girl to take home.”
His breath tickles your ear.
“Of course, they don’t know just how good you were.”
“Coryo…”
“See you then, beautiful.”
He leaves you in the stall, catching your breath, and you know one thing for sure.
You’re so fucked.
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a/n: i went to get the milk. i'm sorta back now? hope you lovely people are thriving, and that you enjoyed. life is still hellishly busy but i'm gonna try and be more active i MISS U ALL
tags: @xjinnix @bvngsblog @upsidedownjill
(to be added to my coryo taglist you can drop a comment here)
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Invisible Girl- Pt. 1 🫥
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Coriolanus Snow x Reader
*Follows movie adaptation*
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Y/N Ravinstill's world was one of opulence and deceit. Born into the prestigious Ravinstill family, she was overshadowed by her twin brother Felix, whose incompetence was forgiven due to his gender.
One evening, Y/N's mother scolded her for reading a political article. "Leave those matters to your brother, Y/N. A woman's concerns are different."
"Felix, you should learn something from your sister," President Ravinstill would jest, not realizing the injustice in his words.
Y/N sat in her room, browsing over ancient texts. Felix barged in, a condescending smirk on his face. "Still pretending you're as capable as me, little sister? No amount of reading can change the fact that you're just a woman."
Y/N, accustomed to such belittlement, held her composure. "Perhaps, Felix, you mistake arrogance for capability."
There was a rare combination of beauty and intellect that Y/N possessed and it went unnoticed by her family. The Ravinstills upheld a tradition of favoring males, her potential was dismissed, and achievements ignored. Her only escape was the Academy, where her last name granted her popularity, yet the disdain lingered even there.
———————————————————-
Y/N's escape was the Academy, a place where her family name granted her popularity. But popularity came at a price. Arachne, fueled by jealousy, made Y/N's life unbearable and she endured the hate with a grace that only fueled Arachne's bitterness.
Sejanus, the rebellious soul, recognized Y/N's struggles. He became her friend, a companion in the silent rebellion against the Capitol's prejudices. Coriolanus, the ambitious but conflicted boy from the fallen Snow dynasty, observed Y/N from a distance, his curiosity growing into something more.
"She's different, Sejanus. She sees beyond the surface. It's... intriguing," Coriolanus admitted, his eyes following Y/N's graceful movements.
-——————————————————— It was a chilly afternoon at the Academy, and the courtyard was deserted, except for Coriolanus, who sat alone at a weathered bench, picking at his leftover lunch. His eyes were distant, lost in the tumultuous thoughts that often haunted him. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N observed from a distance her heart was stirred by an unspoken compassion.
Approaching cautiously, Y/N cleared her throat, "Coriolanus, is this seat taken?"
He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Oh, um, no. You can sit."
Wordlessly, she placed a small bundle on the table—a set of clothes that once belonged to Felix but were discarded without a second thought. "I thought you might need these. My brother doesn't appreciate good things."
Coriolanus, unused to such kindness, stammered, "I... thanks, Y/N. But why?"
She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Because we're more than the labels they put on us, remember? If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."
Coriolanus, taken aback by this unexpected gesture, blushed, his usual guarded demeanor momentarily shattered. "I... sure, thanks."
From that day forward, an unspoken understanding formed between them. Y/N's act of kindness became a bridge, allowing them to traverse the gap that societal expectations had created.
-———————————————————
As weeks passed, Coriolanus found himself seeking Y/N's company more often. Their interactions evolved from awkward exchanges to genuine conversations, laughter, and shared secrets. The walls he had carefully built around himself began to crumble.
One afternoon, Y/N caught Coriolanus stealing glances at her during a lecture. "What's on your mind, Coryo?" she teased.
He looked away, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing, just... thinking."
Y/N's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Thinking about what, exactly?"
Coriolanus, unable to hide his smile, admitted, "Maybe about someone who's changed my perspective on a lot of things."
———————————————————
The Academy's grand hall buzzed with the energy of students preparing for the day's classes. Y/N, usually composed, entered the room, unaware that Arachne, fueled by jealousy, had plotted a public humiliation.
As Y/N took her seat, whispers circulated through the room. Arachne, with a venomous smile, stood up and called out, "Attention, everyone! I have a little game to play. Let's see if Y/N, with all her supposed intelligence, can handle a real challenge."
Sejanus and Coriolanus exchanged uneasy glances as the class turned its attention to Y/N. The atmosphere thickened with anticipation.
Arachne approached Y/N's desk, brandishing a sheet of paper. "I found this abandoned in the library. Looks like someone's secret poetry." She grinned maliciously.
Y/N, caught off guard, felt her face flush with embarrassment. The room fell silent as Arachne began to read aloud, her tone dripping with mockery.
"Roses are red, violets are blue, In the shadows, Y/N's secrets are true. A girl who thinks she's smart and wise, But in reality, it's all just lies."
Felix, seated nearby, erupted into laughter, relishing the moment. The cruel jest reverberated through the room, and Y/Ns friends, Sejanus and Coriolanus, exchanged glares with Arachne.
Sejanus, unable to tolerate the humiliation, spoke out, "Arachne, enough! This is petty and unnecessary."
Coriolanus, torn between his loyalty to Y/N and the desire to fit into the Capitol's expectations, remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Undeterred, Arachne continued, "Oh, Sejanus, you always were the bleeding heart. Can't you see? Y/N's just like the rest of us—full of flaws and secrets."
Y/N, gathering her composure, met Arachne's gaze. "I'm shocked you are so interested in me, Crane. Perhaps you should focus on all of your flaws instead of creating drama."
The retort, though defiant, only fueled Arachne's anger. As the class continued, whispers persisted, but Y/N, resilient, turned her attention to the lesson at hand. Little did Arachne know, the attempted humiliation only strengthened Y/N's resolve to defy the expectations placed upon her by the Capitol, and the ember of resistance within her burned brighter than ever.
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kasagia · 4 months
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Marry me (unless you don't want to)
Pairing: young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol!president! reader Summary: It's been a few years since you won the election for president of Panem. Your fiancé Coryo gives you many advices and is your support most of the time... but it doesn't take much for your pre-wedding idyll to turn into living hell. Can you stop it? Or maybe power is what matters most for both you and Coriolanus... Taglist: @uhnanix @serving-targaryen-realness @diannana @aoi-targaryen @omgsuperstarg @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @un06 @tallulah477 @snowspubes @hueanhdang @snowspubes @phsychobanana @blythlover Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist From LYM "universum". Kind of part 3. 'Part 2' here.
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It's been few years of your term as president of Panem.
A lot has happened. Tigris started her own boutique. Coriolanus became the main Gamemaker after Dr. Gaul decided to retire and devote herself to her crazy research (controlled by your spices). The presidential gardens were filled with Coriolanus's grandmother's roses, which the Snows and you personally cared for.
Oh. And you and Coryo got engaged.
The wedding was fast approaching.
You weren't one of those brides who was picky and worried about the wedding. You had the whole Snow family for that and also your parents and Clem. Your only task was to fit into the dress and arrive on time. Sometimes, when your callender was a little emptier than usual, you went with Coriolanus to alcochol and food tastings for a wedding, but the decisions were mainly made by him. And he was very happy about it... and sometimes angry.
"How can you not see any difference in the colour of these roses?"
"Sweetheart..." you start, looking at the two light pink roses in his hands. "They are both very beautiful. Maybe let's make table bouquets out of both?"
He looks at you with more indignation than when you suggested not inviting to your wedding literally ALL OF the Academy students who happened to learn there with you over the years... not only from your classes BUT WHOLE FUCKING ACADEMY. And people from the university...
"Are we supposed to make a fool of ourselves by combining such drastically different roses?"
"You make the decision, Coryo. You know you always choose what's best for us." You decide on a different tactic and approach him. You place your hands on his chest and reach for his collar, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
He moans into your mouth, surprised by your sudden action. He tosses the roses onto the chair and grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him. You smile as he starts groping your ass and pushing you down onto your desk.
"And yet I'm not the president." He whispers as he breaks away from your lips and begins to trail kisses down your neck.
"You said yourself that I would look prettier on banknotes than you would ever do." You tease him as he takes off your jacket and blouse. He licks his lips as he sees your blood-red, lacy bra.
"I lied to get under your dress." He replies smoothly, reaching for the zipper of your pants. "If I had known you were going to make it harder for me to have what's mine with those horrible things, I would have tried harder to win."
"Hey! Don't insult your cousin's work." You say, punching his shoulder. Suddenly, you realise that he's wearing a lot more clothes than you. You don't like it one bit. Especially since he had already ripped of your panties and started teasing with your pussy.
"And don't mention her when I'm preparing you for myself, Madam President. Which reminds me that… we haven't talked about our sournames after marriage yet." You only manage to take off his jacket and shirt before you freeze in surprise at his words. He undoes his belt and takes off his pants himself, freeing his hard length for your gaze.
"Now?" You moan as he slowly enters you. You freeze for a moment, getting used to the feeling of each other. You completely forgot about the conversation just now. Coryo rests his forehead against yours, keeping his hand intertwined with the back of your head, making sure you don't bang it against the desk too much. You open your eyes, and when you meet his icy blue irises, he starts thrusting into you. 
You dig your nails into his back, pressing his chest against yours as he pushes into you, leaving hickeys on your collarbone at the same time. You've never been more proud (and pleased) of his multitasking.
"Now is as good as any time. After all, maybe we're creating our heir right now. It would be good to know what his or her last name will be." You would laugh at that, but he pushes extra hard into you and into your most sensitive spot, making you moan.
"I don't want to destroy your dreams, fantasies, or discriminate against your strange kink, but I'm on contraceptive, so you'll have to wait, sweetheart." You manage to mutter out, gasping between his thrusts. You close your eyes, biting your lip as you melt into the feeling of him inside you. His other hand, which he had on your waist for a better angle, wraps around your neck. He squeezes gently, making you meet his gaze again.
"Your attempt to avoid answering my question is sweet, but you know that soon we both won't be able to string a sentence together, so just answer me, my little diamond. How do you want our future, little gamestones to be called? Snow? Y/L/N? Y/L/N-Snow? Or Snow-Y/L/N?" Each surname suggestion is preceded by a strong, quick push that you feel with your whole body. You are trembling under him as he fuckes a mind out of you right on your president's desk.
But you have enough common sense to know that you need to give him a piece of… something. If you don't want his lust for power to come back to the surface, you have to give him some power over your relationship… after all, you much prefer his lust for you.
"Snow…" You moan quietly, deciding you can give up your last name if he could give up the function of president for you… besides, you can always divorce him and come back to your surname. At least that's what you think. Although while being under him, when he pushes widly into you, you are not exactly sure about that.
"I didn't hear you. Can you repeat?" He teases you with a smirk. You would never admit that, but it makes him even more handsome while he is pounding into you and groaning like a madman.
"Snow!" Your moan echoes throughout the office, along with the sound of your wet bodies slapping against each other.
"What was that?" You swear he would have chuckled if he could... or maybe he even tried to, but the sensations he was giving you two made it turn into a moan that he tried to cover up with a growl.
"SNOW!" You scream, and a tear rolls down your cheek at how wonderful he makes you feel.
Coryo can't help but lean in and lick it off of your cheek, starting from the corner of your eyes and ending at your throat, where he leaves a hickey. You saw how pleased he was with this. How delighted he was with snow landing on top again...
Neither of you can hold back your urges anymore.
The sound of the door opening to your office brings you out of your thoughts. You'd blush a little if someone other than your fiancé came to you while you were reminiscing about one of your fucking sessions at your office.
"Coryo? What are you doing here, sweetheart?" You ask with a smile, getting up from the desk and walking over to him.
You were both pleased and surprised that he came to you. Usually, at this time, you two were in your offices working. You didn't have a lunch date with him until two hours later… he also never came to fuck you at high noon. No matter how horny he was…
The click of your high heels echoes around the office. You're about to lean in and try to kiss your ridiculously handsome fiancé on his cheek, but instead he pulls away and gives you one of his cold glares.
You frown at him in surprise. He never refused your acts of tenderness. You had such a rare opportunity to show it to him that he literally took everything you gave him. That's why you were so surprised when he cleared his throat and moved away from you instead. He walked over to your desk and looked at the papers you left there with feigned curiosity.
"I was passing by and decided to visit my beloved Madam President. I wonder... do you have something to tell me, my darling? Any new plans? Ideas?"
His question didn't usually arouse any suspicion in you. He often asked about how things were going and what you were working at. But today... today he was different. More calm and serene. He acted like he was wearing a mask of indifference in order to not make you suspicious. Unfortunately for him, or both of you, you knew him too damn well to let slip away even the slightest changes in his behaviour.
"I... I don't think I can recall anything you don't know about." You say this after a moment of thought, trying to figure out what could be the reason for his strange treatment.
"Really?" He asks with a mocking smile and puts his hands in his pockets. He stands in front of the window and stares at the Capitol, having his back at you. You don't like his pretentious and rude attitude. You walk up to him, and by the way his muscles are tensing, you know he's been watching your reflection in the window.
"Can you talk to me? Please? Like normal people do."
You sigh when you get no response from him. You take a step towards him, standing directly behind him, and put your hand in his pants pocket, taking his hand in yours. You notice that he had them clenched into fists, his nails almost digging into the inner skin of his palm to the blood.
"Did something happen? Because if something has happened, then we can talk about it." You say, resting your cheek on his back, letting him hide his expression and any emotions he was feeling from you. You place a small kiss on his neck, at the base of his hair follicles, but instead of calming him down, it enrages him even more.
He pulls your hand from his pocket and pushes it away. He walks away from you madly, walking around your desk, putting more distance (and objects) between you.
"Do you want to talk? Fine. Let's talk. Maybe about your latest project, huh? Cancelling the Hunger Games..." The silence in the room after his words increases the tension between you even more.
"Coryo..." You start to speak, your voice sweet and guilty, knowing you screwed up.
"DO NOT call me that! When did you want to tell me? At our wedding? 'Sweetheart, I have a great gift for you.'" He mocks you, pacing nervously around the room in front of your desk. You slowly walk around it, leaning against the desk as you look at him with your arms crossed.
"I admit, I should have done it earlier…"
"Don't you say?!" He cuts you off with an incredulous scream, rage seething from him like never before. And this time he actually had a reason to be mad at you... but it wasn't like you did it out of spite. You only wanted what was best for Panem. For all your people. With no exceptions. "Do you know how much I sacrificed for you?! WHAT am I willing to do for you, at the slightest damned word of yours?! I put up with your becoming president. I settled for the job of gamemaker, and now you want to take it away from me? What's next?! You know... you're going to destroy this fucking country by giving these district underdogs a freedom they don't deserve!"
"Don't you think that's how it should be? How the hell are they different from us?! How were Sejanus or Lucy Gray different…"
"DON'T EVEN FUCKING MENTION THEM!" His scream terrifies and silences you at the same time. Seeing the fear in your eyes caused a kind of strange pain in him he had never felt before—not since his time in District 12. His heart clenched as he saw you flinch. He didn't want you to be afraid of him. Not you. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw and fists. He bit his tongue, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm down before speaking again. "We need the Hunger Games. Otherwise, the districts will turn against us again."
He tries to explain his point of view to you and change your mind. He forces himself to look into your eyes again. Coriolanus calms down, sighing with relief, when he sees that you're no longer looking at him like a scared prey.
"How long do you think it will take for them to actually rebel? How long will the Capitol be able to murder 23 innocent children every year without a hint of rebellion? 30 Games? 50? 64?" You huff, disagreeing with his sick obsession with the Games.
"By working them to death they will not be able to think about rebellion. They will be guided only by the desire to survive and to fill their stomachs. There is no possibility of any rebellion."
"Hope dies last. If I were them, I would rather die fighting for my rights as a free human being than in the arena for the joy of sick people like Dr. Gaul and…" You bite your tongue at the last moment before you say the words that can't be taken back. But Coryo is too smart not to get what you mean.
"And who? C'mon. Finish." He asks angrily, looking at you defiantly. You clench your fists and look away from him, staring at the window overlooking the centre of the Capitol.
"Get out of my office." You say it in a tone devoid of any emotion, even though you're internally shaking hysterically.
This wasn't supposed to look like this. You had the whole plan ready, but of course Coriolanus wouldn't be himself if he didn't do something you didn't even think he could do.
You could have predicted that his spies would quickly inform him of your plans... you didn't expect it would happen the very next day after you submitted the draft for reading by your lawyers, the Prime Minister, and ministers.
"As you wish, Madam President. Don't forget about your wedding dress fitting with Tigris. Unless you don't want to marry a mad psychopath like me." He says coldly and walks towards the exit.
"Coryo..." He slams the door loudly behind him, leaving you alone in your office.
You shiver, rubbing your arms with your hands. You sit back at your desk and try to go back to the documents and reports you were looking through before he stormed into your office. You take the pen in your hand, but refrain from taking any further notes or comments. Your engagement ring is gleaming in the lamplight, mockingly reminding you that this man should be your support, not your opponent.
You've never felt so cold, empty, and alien there as you do now. And you involuntarily wonder if your marriage with Coryo will be like this. The eternal fight over who is right and who among you cares more about the Panem...
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"You don't look like the happiest future bride on earth. You're very quiet today. Has something happened?" Tigris' gentle question snapped you out of your thoughts.
You stood on the podium in her boutique in the private room where she created most of her designs. You wore your snow-white wedding dress, sewn by Tigris with her own hands. The blonde made a few more adjustments, perfecting it with each of your visits. You were supposed to look like a fucking queen. Clemensia sat on the couch across from the two of you and went through the various documents, reading the most important parts to you.
"Let's just say that…. Coryo and I have had… quieter days lately."
"I told you so." Clem says, looking through the papers sent to you by lawyers and ministers. "Coriolanus is an asshole. Besides, you hurt his alpha male pride. If this wedding is to take place at all, you either have to fuck him well and get pregnant or give up on your idea and leave him as a Gamemaker."
"Clemensia!" You hiss, both outraged by her words and the fact that Tigris accidentally stuck a pin into your thigh, shocked by the news.
"What? Am I not right? I worked with him for years, even before you started dating. I listened for hours about you and how perfect you were before he plucked up the courage to make a move. To be honest, I miss this Coryo."
"Wait... you want to fire him?" Tigris finally recovers from the shock and asks, standing up and shifting her gaze between you and Clemensia.
"No. Well… not exactly… I have some ideas, changes that do not require the position of a Gamemaker to exist anymore." You tell her, not revealing your entire plan.
You still weren't sure about your decision, but... wasn't this what you wanted to do all along?
You thoughtfully play with Sejanus' bracelet—another reason for your many arguments with Coriolanus. Your friend would definitely be cheering you on. He also considered the Games to be unnecessary barbarism. There certainly needs to be more people in the Capitol who are thinking again. More people like you and Sejanus.
"And he is mad?"
"Mad? That's an serious understatement." You mumble, letting go of the bracelet. You clear your throat, successfully holding back tears. You wish he were here to tell you what to do next. He gave some hint, anything.
"If you get pregnant, it won't be only to save your engagement; it will also warm up your image. The creation of a presidential family would overshadow the revolutions and changes you are planning to make. Think about it."
"I can also make him a prime minister to 'save my engagement', so you better shut up if you don't want to be just one of the ministers, Dovecote." You snap at her, knowing that the last thing you need right now is to carry Snow and Y/L/N's heir. You already have enough problems and confusion in your head.
"Yes, Madam President." She snorts, going back to the papers. You roll your eyes at her as she gives you a smirk. Sejanus may have been taken away from you, but at least you got Clem. It was good to have someone to rely on.
"Just talk to him."
"What?" You ask Tigris, torn from your thoughts about Sejanus.
"Talk to him. Explain why you are doing what you are doing." She says it as if it's just that easy. As if Coriolanus Snow could be convinced to do anything.
"I've tried. But he didn't listen to me. He's too stubborn to see what I want to do. And all I want is to guarantee the best future for Panem and all the people. Not just the Capitol's citizens."
"And if anyone can change his mind, then it is you. He… he is different. Because of you. You are showing him that all he believes in and all the things he learned under Dr. Gaul's eye weren't entirely true. You are bringing his good side back to life. I… I started lately to see my cousin instead of the cold version of his father he became. Just… please talk to him. Show him that he can be good."
Silence falls between you; even Clem has stopped turning the pages of paper. You both stare at Tigirs, remembering Coryo before the Hunger Games... before Lucy Gray and Dr. Gaul.
"You, Snows, and your stupid ability to use pretty words to manipulate people into doing what you want will be the reason for my end." You sigh, realising that you have to cancel the rest of your meetings and go to his place.
"Nothing bad will happen as long as our intentions are pure. Besides, you'll be one of us soon. You will receive this gift with a wedding ring." She says with a smile as she finishes the final touches, she stands in front of you and looks at you carefully, her eyes brightening and her smile widening. She beams with pride and delight. "For me, you look breath-taking. What do you think? Do you like it?"
"It's... amazing. Perfect. If only the groom was also like that, then I wouldn't have to worry about my wedding at all." You say, looking at yourself in the mirror, thinking about what you will say to him to appease him somehow or what position to promise him.
"You will be fine. Coryo won't be mad at you for long. He loves you. Trully. He will do everything for you."
"Even he has his boundaries. I just hope I didn't push him too far this time." You respond pessimistically to Tigris' assurances.
"You should go and talk to him before Dr. Gaul finds out about your quarrel and catches him. This woman is just waiting for the perfect opportunity to bring you down, and turning Coriolanus against you would greatly help her in this plan. Also, great dress, Tigris. She looks amazing. She will look wonderful in wedding photos. Panem will go crazy with delight."
Clem was right. People would love it. The only question is whether what was between you and Coryo really was genuine love or whether it turned into part of your presidential public image...
Sejanus' bracelet and Coriolanus' engagement ring have never weighed so heavily on your wrist and finger as they do now.
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You've only been nervous a few times in your life.
During the university entrance exam, while defending your master's, bachelor's, and doctoral theses, and now, going to your fiancé's apartment with wine and a cake from the pastry shop he loved (the bastard wouldn't admit it to anyone, but you noticed how quickly these cakes disappeared from his plate.)
You walk past the avox and the security guards, leaving your security outside, as you unlock the door to his apartment with trembling hands.
"Coryo?!" You shout, placing your 'gifts' on the table near the front door and hanging up your coat. When you don't get an answer, you grab your things and go deeper into the apartment. "I know you're here! Don't play hide and seek and come here; I just want to talk!"
You say it loudly as you enter the living room. Putting aside the wine and cookies, a photo on the coffee table catches your eye. You take the photo frame and smile slightly as you see the photo from your engagement.
You can't help but run your finger tenderly over the photo, memories of that evening coming to your mind involuntarily.
"Where's your jacket?" Coriolanus asks you, covering you in his red one as you step out into the cool air. You needed a break from people and the loud party you threw at the presidential palace to celebrate the upcoming Christmas. Your boyfriend accompanied you faithfully, taking you out to the gardens of your grand mansion.
"I didn't wear it. Tigirs made it for me, but it didn't match the dress. Besides, I'm at home. Why would I need a jacket or a coat?"
"Who do you think told her to sew it? She spent an hour complaining that she was already giving you back the dress and that whatever she made for you wouldn't match it perfectly now. Cover yourself up. I don't want you to catch a cold; this week will be very intense anyway. Everyone goes crazy before Christmas. Dr. Gaul started to experiment with a kind of poison made from the venom of some specific genetically modified vipers that breed in snow heaps and are able to survive extreme conditions." He grumbles, standing in front of you and buttoning up a jacket up to your neck.
You smile and can't help but lean forward and kiss him sweetly. He hums against your lips, tangling his hand in your hair and pulling you closer to him. After a moment, he pulls away, content to welcome your rosy cheeks, and pulls you closer to him to make sure the heat doesn't escape from your body so quickly as you stroll lazily through the gardens.
"I see she's giving you great ideas for the winter edition of The Hunger Games, Mr. Gamemaker." You tease him with a smirk, at which he rolls his eyes and holds you tighter against him.
"I would prefer it if she stopped. The games are already mine. She should stay in her lab and out of my business."
"You don't get along anymore? I tought that she loved you. And you were delighted with her attention." You ask, curious about his obvious reluctance and the cold way he spoke about her.
"We have one… controversial issue." He answers evasively, looking at the roses his grandmother planted in the greenhouse you were passing by. You frown, watching him carefully as you question him.
"That is?"
"You." He answers briefly, not bothering to come up with any lies. He knows very well that sooner or later you will find out about... his soured relationship with Dr. Gaul.
"Oh... me?" You asked him, surprised. He doesn't look you in the eyes, but you can see from the way his jaw clenches at the memory of the conversation that led to their conflict that it was... quite serious. You didn't expect that Coriolanus would argue with Gaul about YOU.
"Don't make those innocent eyes. You know exactly what I'm talking about." He says this, looking at you briefly. He turns into an alley, leading you two to the deeper parts of the gardens where only your gardeners went... "Gaul thinks you're an incompetent child who doesn't know anything about government or how to keep people in line. That you will plunge this country within a few years, and your rule will lead to a rebellion, which the Capitol will lose in a very bloody and painful way. To which I disagreed... quite strongly, which she didn't like, so she called me your faithful errand dog, waiting for leftovers from your table. I think you can guess how I reacted."
"That old madwoman should be glad I left her alone in her lab. Even though I have reasons to send her to prison." You are furious about the news he told you. You stop, making him turn to fully look at you. He can't help but smile in amusement when he sees how cute you look when you're mad at someone other than him. This is definitely a nice change for him. "You're not some fucking dog or lesser man, Coryo. We are partners. Equal ones. I hope you know that. And maybe Dr. Gaul won't live long enough to see me... us, leading Panem to greatness, but it doesn't change that people will be better under our rules. I promised myself we would never suffer from hunger again. Not any citizen of the Capitol and districts."
"Districts?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.
"They are people too." You reply, placing your hands in his jacket pockets to warm yourself up a bit. Seeing this, he pulls you towards him and leads you towards the gazebo. It should protect you from the wind enough to make you warm again.
"And they were the reason for our suffering."
"True. But people change. And now we are the reason for their suffering. So what makes us different? Apart from nice clothes and well-groomed skin?" You answer after a moment of silence.
"You talk like Sejanus." He sighs, unable to stop himself from comparing your utopian visions of harmonious life with the Districts to Plinth's desires.
"He was a good man. And a friend." You say it quietly, remembering your friend fondly. You mindlessly play with the bracelet he gave you, which catches Coriolanus' attention. He looks at this scrap of jewellery with a hateful look, jealous that you value some stupid item so much.
"Not like me, right?" He asks, laughing bitterly and shaking his head. You frown and shift your confused gaze towards him.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing." He tries to back away, but your inquisitive gaze and the anger bubbling within him make him throw away his common sense and let his jealousy and resentment flow out. "He will always be a saint in your eyes, right? He died a martyr. He wanted to help the districts. Does that make me an executioner in your eyes? A sinner maybe?"
"No. I'm not comparing you to him. You are from two different worlds. He was a boy from the district, and he saw these people for what they were. Humans. Just wanting what they should have. Equality. And you... you are from the Capitol. You saw the cruelty of the rebellion and the fighting. Your father, mother, and sister died. You lost... a big part of yourself at a very young age. With them. And you have a right to feel resentment, anger, and hatred towards the people of the district, but imagine that somewhere there lives a man who went through similar things, but at the hands of people from the Capitol. Are you surprised that they are distrustful? That they see us as a threat? That they want to get rid of us and finally have their freedom? That they don't want to be threatened with the possibility of death in the Hunger Games? Wouldn't you object? Wouldn't you rebel?"
"It doesn't matter. We won't reconcile. Our wounds are too deep, and our resentments are too fresh. Do you think the families who lost loved ones will accept these... people from the district as equals? That we will create one happy, wonderful country, as our naive Sejanus wanted, against whom the people he helped turned? You don't know what the people of the district are like. They are treacherous dogs, even worse than me. You don't know when they will decide to drop their façade of kindness and give you a fatal bite like the most venomous snake."
"You... you have right. I don't know. Maybe they are like that, or maybe not. But deepening these wounds will do no good, Coryo." He huffs, shaking his head, when he hears his nickname coming out of your lips.
"Coryo... how can you say that to me when all I can see in your eyes is how you despise me for sending him to death? You abhor hypocrisy, but here you are, still holding a grudge against me, aren't you?"
"No. Neither of us is crystal clear. And maybe you want to tell yourself that you're a selfish asshole who doesn't feel anything, but I know... I see how he haunts you. And she. You're not a monster, Coryo. No matter how much you want to make other people and maybe even yourself believe in it. You are not an enforcer or a tyrant. Gaul wants you to be. She wants to make you as cold and uncaring as her. But it's not you. And do you know how I know this?"
"How?" He asks mockingly, trying to keep up his indifferent façade. And maybe he can lie to everyone around him, but not to you. Not when you've known him for so many years, almost better than yourself.
"Because you love me. And as long as you are able to love someone more than you love yourself, then you cannot be a monster." You say this, looking into his eyes.
He blinks a few times and turns his head, shifting his gaze to the vines wrapping around the columns of the gazebo. You watch him as he swallows and clears his throat, bringing his voice down to a flat tone, before he looks at you again.
"And how are you so sure that I'm doing this? That I love you more than anything?"
"Well, starting with you not sabotaging my presidency, which you could do very easily, and ending with this." You say calmly as you fish a small, velvety box out of the pocket of his jacket you're waering and open it, revealing a beautiful, breathtaking engagement ring to the both of you.
You both remain silent. He looks at the ring in shock, as if you were the one proposing to him, while you study the expression on his face, only more reassuring yourself of the decision you made the moment your fingertips felt the velvet box in his jacket's pocket.
"That's why I wanted you to have your own jacket..." He sighs, taking the ring from you and playing with the small box. "I had a whole plan ready, but as usual, you come in and ruin everything. And I certainly didn't want to ask you this question the same night when we were discussing my questionable morals."
"You've got some. Microscopic, but still." He laughs at this, which makes you smile involuntarily.
His icy blue irises look at you with something so... warm and tender, so unlike Coriolanus, who hangs out with the crowd of important people in the Capitol, and so like your dear Coryo, that you almost melt in front of him.
You stick out your hand (the one without the Sejanus' bracelet), which he takes without hesitation. He strokes the back of your hand gently with his thumb, thinking hard about something before looking back at you.
"You sure? Because there is no turning back from there. In the eyes of the Capitol, it's as if we've already exchanged wedding rings."
"That's actually very sweet and artificial, you know? You are trying to be a gentleman while we both know damn well that all you want is to put that ring on my finger and make me finally yours." You say it playfully, smiling widely.
"Y/N. I need an answer." He responds in the same calm tone as before, but you can see from the slight shaking in his hands that this is also a poignant moment for him in his own way. Coriolanus Snow and feelings. To you. The world went mad... maybe it already did on the day you became president instead of him.
"And I need a question." You tease him, and he sighs in irritation, but he can't stop the smirk forming on his lips.
However, he suddenly becomes serious, and instead of continuing your game, he takes the ring out of the box, strokes gently your palm and ring finger, and asks, still looking into your eyes with an unexpected tenderness.
"Y/N Y/L/N... will you take me as I am and agree to marry me?"
"Now this is a bit of a trick question." You joke after swallowing, trying your best to hold back the tears that are coming with the question you would never expect him to ask you.
"Y/N..."
"Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Coriolanus Snow." You interrupt him. Before he can complain and lecture you for not respecting the big step you're taking for your future, you cup his cheeks with your hands and pull him in for a kiss.
The photo shows this moment. One of the paparazzi took it after sneaking past your security and following you two into the gardens. It shows you and Coryo kissing, holding each other close in an embrace, as you two celebrate your engagement. The ring that he had somehow managed to place on your finger before you hungrily pressed your lips against his was glowing in the moonlight and looked perfect in the photo.
You smile fondly, filled with nostalgia.
"I accept only wrotten apology." Coriolanus' voice brought you out of your thoughts. You set the photo down on the coffee table and turned to face him. He looked impeccable as always. The only thing that would have betrayed his earlier nervous and angry state was his slightly ruffled hair and the lack of a tie. The first buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, giving you a perfect view of his Adam's apple, neck, and part of his collarbone.
"Me too." You finally say, keeping your mind from wandering to the dirty memories you had of him.
"You too?" He asks, surprised, crossing his arms. You lift your chin slightly, looking at him defiantly, and answer in a calm but firm voice.
"I agree. I did a bad thing. I should have spoken to you before making any documents or plans. But I am not the only guilty one here. You were spying on me. You sent your men after me to watch my every step." You accuse him in a resentful tone of voice. To which he just laughs mockingly, ignoring your furious look.
"Please... as if you didn't have your men or women watching my back and telling you about everything I do."
"And how am I supposed to trust you?! You killed 3 people or maybe even more, that's not the thing that's simply can be forgotten." You explode, unable to control your emotions anymore. His gaze darkens as well, and his eyes glow, sharing your fiery fury.
"And how am I supposed to trust you that you don't just set all of the Panem on fire by your orders?! I wanted to be president all my life. You wanted it only for several months." He stops, looks at something in your hand, and laughs bitterly. You curse internally when you see his eyes fall on Sejan's bracelet. He grabs your wrist and turns the bracelet in his hand before his icy irises shift back to you, making you shiver. "As I see, good old Sejanus is ruining my life even from beyond the grave. Why are you wearing it again? Are you feeling remorseful, darling? The anniversary of the death of that district scumbag is coming up, and you magically start to remember that I have no conscience? That you can't trust me? That's amazing how hypocritical you can be. If I were you and wore any jewellery from Lucy Gray, especially after I promised you I wouldn't do it again like you did after our engagement, you would go mad, suspicious, and probably demand from me to destroy it. But you can do everything you want, won't you, Madame President?"
"So we don't trust each other. Perfect future marriage." You sneer fiercely, pulling your hand from his strong grip as he presses your buttons precisely.
"Don't bring our engagement into this. The problem is what you do as president, not us."
"Why shouldn't I? Because at home you are my Coryo and outside the walls of your apartament you are Coriolanus?" You mock him, unconsciously taking a step towards him. He accepts your challenge and equally furiously invades your personal space as you stare at each other defiantly.
"You still think I am like a fucking coin?! That I have two sides—one for my family and the other to show for our people?"
"I AM PRESIDENT. Not you. They are MINE pepople, not ours!"
You regret your words as soon as they leave your mouth. For a moment, you think he's going to slap you; you wouldn't be surprised if he did. But he didn't. He takes a step back and closes his eyes, breathing deeply and trying to calm down. You take a step towards him and reach for him, but the stern look in his icy eyes stops you.
"If that's what you say, Madam President. But if I were you, I would consider which one you love—who I am or who I was. Because if it's the latter... then maybe we shouldn't get married. Although I think you always preferred Sejanus. What a pity that the worms have already eaten his corpse. You would be worth each other."
You freeze at his words. A loud bang on the door wakes you from your stupor, making you flinch. You sigh and run a hand through your hair. Sejanus' bracelet gets caught in them. You curse and somehow untangle it from your hair. You play with it in your hand for a moment.
"Coryo..." You start, hoping he hears you, and he leaves.
When there is no response from your fiancé, he walks to his bedroom door, and you knock once and remove the bracelet from your wrist.
"Coryo, I am sorry!" You try, but once again, you are only met with silence.
Anger begins to build within you again. Because how can you talk to him normally and apologise to him when he locks himself in a room like a rebellious teenager? You slam your hand on his door in frustration, letting out an angry scream.
"FINE! BE A BRAT! Call me when your period will end, Snow!"
You throw the bracelet on the floor in front of his door and quickly walk out of the apartment, forgetting to grab your coat. You avoid the avox, security, and all the other annoying people and practically run to your car. You stop at the front desk to tell Clem to cancel all your appointments for today and tomorrow morning. You get in your car, wanting only to drown your sorrows in wine and the hot tub in your presidential palace. You could take some time off from time to time. After all, you have already been the worst president of all time in the eyes of your man.
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"Smile!" The photographer says this before the spotlight blinds you. Coriolanus's arm wraps tighter around your waist—perfect for the photo—and so you can feel him tightening around you in a little painful way, so it's hard for you to breathe. You feel like a snake or gorset were around you. "Perfect! Maybe you can kiss now?"
You don't have to turn around to know Coriolanus has that smug, cocky smirk on his face.
You shouldn't be here with him. But your wedding rehearsal couldn't be postponed due to your argument, so instead you dressed up as best as you could so he could see what he had missed during these weeks of silent war between you.
But for now, he was the one having the time of his life, watching you get more and more irritated with his closeness to you. He could notice it even behind your perfect fake smile.
You gasp softly in surprise as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss. If you had an audience, they would surely gasp with delight, judging by how quickly the light flashed and how many photos the photographer took of both of you before you stepped away from Coriolanus.
"Great! Thank you very much. That's all from my side, unless you want another photo, Mr. and Mrs. President?" You'd roll your eyes if you could. Not married yet, and he already has your title.
"That's enough for now. Thank you, Colin." Coriolanus replied for the two of you.
He puts his hand on your shoulders and pulls you into his side. You'd elbow him in the ribs, but you decide to hold back until the photographer leaves you alone.
"Is something wrong, honey?" He asks in a sweet, artificially concerned tone of voice as the photographer gathers his things.
"Not at all, sweetheart." You reply with a smile that disappears from your face as quickly as the door closes behind Colin. You push his hands off of you and look at him, furious. "Did you have to? I'm sure they'll print THIS photo on the entire front page of the newspaper."
He just shrugs and grabs a strand of your hair, smoothing it out.
"I do not see any problem. We're getting married, after all. Unless you're planning something else behind my back that I don't know about? Then this photo might make you look like a heartless bitch after our breakup."
"We both know it's better to be a widow than a whore." Your little threat is met with a mocking laugh from him. He shakes his head in amusement and leans towards you. You tense up, feeling his breath on your cheek as he whispers in your ear.
"Do you wish me dead? You pick up on my habits pretty quickly, Madam President." He pulls away and winks at you, clearly seeing how his closeness has affected you. His hand trails lazily from your neck, over your collarbones, down the side of your breast, and down your waist, until it settles on your hip. You shiver, feeling his electric touch through your clothes. "Come on, honey. Let's get back to the guests before they drink all our supplies, and we won't have anything good left for our real wedding."
Before you can say anything, he tightens his grip and pulls you closer to him. You both leave the room and return to the ballroom in the presidential palace.
You may be angry at each other, and there's a festering resentment between you, but in a strange way, his presence and his hand on your waist calm you down in a crowd of people. He could be a great foil when he stayed silent and didn't try to convince you of his views.
Your thoughts involuntarily turn to what your spies have told you. Coriolanus has been doing some district travel lately. They didn't know for what purpose. He disappeared for several hours in different houses. He rarely stayed there overnight, usually boarding the train right away and returning to the Capitol. You didn't like it. Even more so, your first thought was that he was with HER.
You don't know what was worse. The fact that maybe he was cheating on you, the fact that your first thought was that he wasn't plotting against you but that he had reconciled with his songbird and was spending time with her in different neighbourhoods, or the fact that you felt immense jealousy and rage at the thought that someone else touched your fiancé besides you. And it wasn't even anger at him. It was at Lucy Gray.
Pathetic, how you could let him become such an important part of you, how he slipped back and nested in your heart, poisoning it with sweet words just to regain your affection and trust. And then he attacked you every day, testing your limits and seeing how far he could go in his plotting to keep you from paying attention to him.
He was like a snake. But he was your snake. And you wanted to live in the naive belief that maybe you could tame him, just like Dr. Gaul did with her own snakes.
You look at him as he smiles, showing off a row of his pearly snow teeth as he talks to some minister of yours. You don't pay too much attention to the conversations and people around you, letting him take over. You don't miss how some of the Capitol's most important figures call him Mr. President. You ignore it. For now, you have something completely different on your mind. Or rather, someone...
"Y/N? What's wrong with you?" Coriolanus' question brings you out of your thoughts about his possible affair. You still wonder if they could really get back together. After all, Lucy Gray is alive thanks to him, and he followed her to District 12. You flinch, feeling his hands on your shoulder and one caressing the side of your neck as he gently forces you to look into his eyes. You can really see genuine concern and anxiety in them. Does he start to suspect that you know that he can... "Look at me, diamond. I'm really starting to worry now. What's going on?"
You don't have time to answer him, even if you wanted to. Festus staggers onto the stage, and you already know that this is a harbinger of disaster.
Coriolanus stands next to you reluctantly, clearly preferring to finish the conversation rather than listen to your former academy colleague make a toast.
"Hello everyone. Please give me a little attention. I've known our presidential couple since we started the Academy, and to be honest, I never thought that someone like Y/N would actually end up with our Coriolanus, but as you can see, fate likes to be funny and do ridiculous things. Nevertheless, I'd like to make a toast! A toast to Y/N! Always the second love, never the first. I hope you know what you are doing by marrying this narcissist asshole, Madam President."
Surprisingly, the crowd sees this as a joke and is not outraged by it. After all, in public opinion, you were a perfect couple, and Coriolanus was staring at you with the eyes of a lovesick puppy.
But you took it completely differently. And this supposedly funny toast from Festus only deepened your doubts. Judging by the way Coryo tensed up, he noticed how it affected you.
"Excuse me for a moment." You say this, feeling yourself getting more and more short of breath. You don't bother listening to what he says back. All you can think about now is getting out of there as quickly as possible before you start crying.
Fortunately, Coriolanus doesn't follow you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him furiously approaching the drunken Festus. You don't give the two a second thought as you run to the guest bathroom. You close the door behind you and rest your hands on the sink.
You hyperventilate, trying not to think about how painfully true Festus' words were.
Coriolanus had only two true loves, for which he was willing to sacrifice himself completely.
Power and Lucy Gray.
He devoted his entire life to one thing: trying to be the best in the Academy, the best in the eyes of Dr. Gaul, the best in the University, the best in the eyes of the Capitol, a gamemaker, and the future president—a position you took away from him.
And for Lucy, Gray gave up his dreams. Damn, you know he would fucking run away with her, sacrificing his entire life, if these two were able to trust each other and love each other despite their flaws and differences.
So how could you ever compete with that? When he never put you first, when he never cared about you that much to make any sacrifices for you, how long could you fool yourself into thinking that he loved you when clearly everything he did was to become president?
People already called him that. In a few years after your wedding, who knows how he will manipulate them? How will he manipulate you and everyone around you? That he won't declare himself president and remove you from your place, making you his First Lady, just as he always wanted?
No. He didn't love you. Festus was right. You would always be the other one. It doesn't matter whether his songbird or lust for power are on his pedestal.
You shiver when, in the middle of your sobs, someone hugs you tightly and presses you against a hard, muscled chest.
"Shhh. All right. I'm going to kill that son of a bitch. He will pay for your tears... just... please stop. You know it's not true; you know he lied, that it was his drunken gibberish, and he doesn't know what he's talking about, right? Y/N, you know that you are my one and only, my chosen one, my destiny, right? That it was always you? At every moment, even the darkest? Y/N?"
You cling to him, frantically grabbing at his shirt. He places his hand on your head and presses you against him, feeling you shake and struggle to catch your breath between your cries. He strokes your hair tenderly and places kisses on your temple and forehead, never letting go of you as he only tightens his embrace.
He doesn't say anything anymore. He knows that it doesn't make sense that you just need to let out the emotions of the whole month and that you just need him close to you. And maybe his reaction is not appropriate, but he warms up internally at the thought that it is HIM that you cling to in your most difficult times, that you seek his comfort even when you are in great conflict with each other. And somehow he forgets that you plan to take away his role as Gamemaker and that you plan to take down the Hunger Games behind his back.
"You broke the door." You finally say when you calm down, not moving away from him just yet.
"I heard you crying. My peacekeeper's instinct took over." You'd laugh at this if you were in better condition. All you can do is breathe in the faint scent of his perfume and the white rose he has pinned to his jacket.
"You were a peacekeeper only for one summer." You mumble, breathing steadily. You slowly started to calm down, enough that you were no longer in danger of shedding any more tears.
You pull away from him, which he reluctantly allows you to do. You take the paper and wipe the tears from your face, checking yourself in the mirror. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that his shirt is black with your mascara and smeared with makeup that you left behind as you buried your face into his chest.
"And without you by my side, it felt like years." You catch his gaze in the mirror as he looks at you carefully. You had no idea why you reacted like that or why you fell straight into his arms and let him hold you. You felt stupid that he saw you in such a... moment of vulnerability.
"You had Lucy Gray. Maybe you still have her?" You ask, turning to face him.
You don't know what's on his face more—surprise or anger—but you definitely know that he doesn't like your gentle accusations. He walks towards you, making you take a step back and hit the sink behind you with your hips.
"No. Don't let that drunkard convince you that there's something more important to me than you. And definitely not that district bitch." He says this, placing his hands on your shoulders. His gaze is so intensely focused on your eyes that it makes you feel uncomfortable. Something like doubt begins to bloom in your chest, but Festus' words are still fresh in your mind.
Always the second love, never the first.
In your eyes, he's lying. He says sweet words to calm your guard down. He may not have loved Lucy Gray, but he didn't love you either. Only one thing mattered to him. Power. Maybe it's finally time to stop fooling yourself into thinking that he can be different?
"I don't believe you. And the problem is, I don't think I ever will again, Coriolanus. I thought that we... that we could be like we were before, but maybe you're right. Maybe I only love you for who you were. Maybe I am a hypocrite. But I want to marry someone for whom I will be most important. I want to marry someone who can sacrifice everything for me. And maybe I'm asking too much; maybe I'm fucking selfish—I don't care. But I don't want to marry someone to whom I mean less than the whole world."
You say all this with tears in your eyes. You don't feel like pretending to him that you don't care or that you're strong. You've been like this for far too long. Somehow, you manage to push past him and head towards the exit.
"Y/N..." You ignore his soft calls and close the door behind you.
You're not coming back to the party. You don't feel strong enough to go back there and pretend that everything is fine, that your heart is not broken, that you are not devastated, and that you don't know what to do next, neither with Coryo nor with Panem. You go straight to the exit of the mansion. You nod to your driver and get in the car with him, giving him the address of Clem's apartment.
You will call her from her apartment and tell her that you are avoiding your fiancé for now and that you need to think about some important things. You just hope she doesn't get mad that you're out of sight of the Capitol for a few days.
You needed rest. Or a longer vacation. The process of phasing out The Hunger Games has been a migraine-inducing experience from the very beginning. You were afraid to think about how it would all turn out and end.
You didn't actually have to think about it for long.
The car skidded strangely, and even though you were wearing your seat belt, it's throwing you forward and then backward. You groan as you feel the side of the car's body crumple inward under the pressure of the other car. You hear nothing—no sound—as you feel the bone in your leg break under the pressure of the other car, even though you swear you take a deep breath to scream. The last thing you remember before you pass out is a warm feeling spreading throughout your body.
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"Clemensia. Where the hell is she?" Coriolanus approaches the Prime Minister, glaring at her furiously.
"Can't you see I'm trying to track her down?! Peacekeepers are looking for her everywhere. One of the lackeys says he saw her driver leaving here before the explosion; maybe she escaped before they blew up half of the presidential palace."
"It's better for you to be like this." He growls at her, furious. You were supposed to be with him all the time. You and Tigris were supposed to be far from danger. He only managed to keep an eye on his cousin. That wasn't his plan for the evening. How could he keep forgetting your ability to ruin all his ideas and assumptions? Next time, he will tie you to himself.
"Don't talk to me like that, Coriolanus. I've known you for too long. Besides, I'm the prime minister. If my suspicions are correct and this little attack on the presidential palace by the district's rebels the day before we announced our plan to take down the Hunger Games is not their own idea, then I will make sure Y/N's disappearance is your last concern."
"Are you threatening me?" He asks, raising an eyebrow questioningly. He takes a step towards her, making sure he is towering over her and looking down at her intimidatingly.
She tries to hide her nervousness, but by the way she swallows and the fear shining in her eyes, he knows that even though she's acting tough, she's still afraid of him. Like everyone in the Capitol. He would make sure that Clemensia would never again dare to put her above him. After all, he could always get rid of the prime minister. As the president's husband (and maybe, in the future, a full president), he would have enough power and connections to do that. But he would have to convince you of it first...
"I'm warning you. Like an ex-friend." Her voice brings him out of his thoughts. He laughs derisively and shakes his head in amusement before returning to his intimidating stance.
"So let me warn you too. If something happened to her, if her disappearance wasn't her own will, I'll make sure you hang with those district scumbags. You, your family, aunts and uncles, and whoever is close to or related to you. I'll erase your family name from the Capitol records." He says, leaning close enough to her so that no one accidentally overhears what he's saying, while making sure he's close enough for it to be appropriate. He doesn't want you to be jealous. Maybe a little. But definitely not now, when your engagement and marriage are in question.
“You don't have that kind of fucking power.”
"Maybe I don't. But I'm sure that Dr. Gaul's snakes would love to play with you again. Maybe this time they will be more poisonous?" He says it with a mischievous smirk as she turns pale at his words. She knows she's flooded with memories of the 10th Hunger Games and what Gaul did to her. He winks at her and walks away, not sparing her a second glance.
He doesn't wait for her answer. After all, he has more important things to worry about than arguing with his former friend.
He passes people treated by rescuers and gracefully jumps over the ruins of the eastern part of the presidential palace. He will have to hang more rebels than he thought. He finally agreed with them that only the ballroom would explode, not the entire wing. He would have the heads of all of them if something happened to you.
"Private." He calls out to one of the peacekeepers. A man younger than him walks up to him and bows respectfully.
"President Snow. How may I serve, sir?" He would smile at how he calls him if your health and safety weren't on his mind.
He barks dry and sharp orders at him and orders some of the peacekeepers to lock up and guard the rebels and shoot any unnecessary ones right away. Coriolanus didn't want to waste any time. He sends the rest of the men, along with the higher ranks, to secure the Capitol grounds against any escapes. His silent command is clear. Everyone must be captured by dawn, or inept peackeepers will take the place of those missing.
He notices that the people around him are quite quick to accept him as the new leader, even despite Dovecote's protests.
Coriolanus finds this logical. After all, after you, he is the next and only competent entity. He probably would have basked in his power if one of the soldiers hadn't handed him a phone. A call from the hospital.
"Madam President had a car accident. The rebels tracked her car and drove into the side; some of them set the car on fire, but fortunately someone got her out of there before the worst happened. We are stabilising her condition all the time, but..."
"If you let her die, I will consider it treason and an attack on the head of state. All hospital staff will become traitors like those rebels from the districts and punished even worse than them; tell this to the doctors. In fact, I'll do it myself as soon as I get there. Have a nice night." He hangs up the phone and, after a quick conversation with a council of people closest to you, a plan of action with the press spokesman, and a very hateful tussle with Dovecote over the car, which he obviously wins, gets into the car and drives himself to the hospital.
Because no matter what happens, you are his priority. He's going to assure you of that.
He parks his car anywhere and runs up the hospital stairs. When the nurses see him, they run away, dragging trolleys with other patients. He manages to grab one of them painfully by the elbow and ask about your whereabouts. The nurse sighs in relief when she doesn't say anything in return, and he immediately heads to the room you are in.
He sees you in various states. Burned from head to toe, broken bones, bruised. He feels his inner anger rising along with his anxiety as various scenarios run through his head.
In each of them, you are barely clinging to life, but you are alive because Coriolanus cannot imagine existing in a world without you. You can hate him, you can curse him, and you can distrust him, but you MUST LIVE. For him.
But in neither of them does he imagine Lucy Gray sitting by your side.
"Touch her, and I'll break all your bones and put you in prison with a muzzle on your mouth so you can't sing for the rest of your miserable life." He doesn't know how, but he manages to get over his initial shock and threatens her, closing the door behind him with a loud bang.
She doesn't even flinch. In fact, she is not taking her eyes off of you. She looks just like when they were in 12. Like it hasn't passed a day since he tried to shoot her and kill her in the forest near the lake she showed him.
"Relax. She's too good to hurt. And I'm not a murderer. You know about it."
"What the hell are you doing here?" He asks as their eyes meet. And he is the one who flinches.
Because the Lucy Gray looking at him isn't the same girl he helped win the Hunger Games. He feels something... strange about her. An aura that he can't properly name. It makes him more anxious, and he forgets about you for a moment in favour of the woman sitting by your hospital bed.
"I saved your fiancée. Do you know that the people you talked to are customers who often come to my tavern? You hide it well, but I know you, Coriolanus. I connected the dots. She will do it too."
"She's not like you. She won't run away from me. She won't leave me. She loves me." He growls at her threat.
He shifts his gaze to you and relaxes slightly. You breathe. Steady and calm. You're as pale as a wall, but you're alive. You have a bandage wrapped around your head, but you're alive. The beeping in the room monitoring your heartbeat reassures him of this. He always thought it was annoying. Only now is he starting to understand how heavenly this sound is.
"She did it today, didn't she? She ran away from you and got into the car, I bet, after your fight. About what? About power? About the title? You have everything, Coriolanus. Prestige. The woman of your dreams. Respect. Money. What more could you want? Isn't this what you dreamed of? At the times when you had nothing but her? Haven't you dreamed of being right where you are?
Her questions catch him off guard. He doesn't know why, but all he can do is stand there over your bed and listen to the songbird as he questions his actions and motivations. What's even weirder is that he can't really name what he's feeling right now. Everything became unimportant the moment he walked into that room and saw the both of you. Or rather, when he was informed about your accident.
"I... yes."
"So what are you still fighting for? What do you still want so badly? Maybe you'd rather have everything BUT her?"
"No. No." Hee shakes his head, looking down at you and your unconscious body.
NO. He couldn't live like this.
Without your smile. Without your warmth. Without your touch. Without your lips. Without your moans. Without your quarrels. Without your irritated and angry sighs. Without seeing the crease between your eyebrows when you solved a difficult problem. Without your tired smile and sigh as you climbed into bed with him.
He could starve for weeks. But he couldn't be without your presence. You were more precious than anything.
Than any water, food, air, money, or titles. When he had nothing, when his family was starving and living in a dilapidated apartment, he could only feel powerful with you in his arms. He could only feel important in the glow of your attention and affection. And he knew that if it were taken away from him again, he would not enjoy any power. He had a piece of it to himself today. And all he could think about was you.
"Mr. Snow?" The doctor's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks up, no longer finding Lucy Gray at your side. He shakes his head and rubs his hand over his eyes. He shouldn't drink that last glass of champagne...
"Yes?"
"Everything is fine with Madam President. We managed to stabilise her. She should make a full recovery in time for the wedding, but she needs to rest a lot. She was put through a very hard and difficult experience." He nods and hestitantly sits down in the chair next to yours, keeping his eyes on you (which is a great relief for the doctor).
"I will take care of her." He announces firmly, in a hushed tone of voice, as if you weren't on strong drugs and could wake up at any moment.
"Of course. I shall leave you both." The doctor takes the opportunity that Coriolanus' attention is focused solely on you and leaves.
Coryo gently cups your cheek in his hand and strokes it with his thumb. He lingers on your lips, relieved to feel your shallow exhale. The fingers of his other hand wrap around your wrist as he checks your pulse, making sure you're alive and that his mind isn't playing with him like it was with Lucy Gray.
You were there. Safe. He hovers over your bed and puts his head on your chest. He doesn't put his burden on you; he would rather die than hurt you. He simply puts his ear in to listen to the rhythmic beats of your heart.
He quickly decides that's the prettiest song of all time.
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"Tilt your head a little towards me, my diamond. I don't want to touch your wound too much." He says, kneeling by the tub as he washes your hair, making sure the shampoo doesn't get too deep into the already crusted skin at the back of your head.
"Are you aware that I can do it myself?" You sigh as he carefully rinses your hair.
"Are you aware that you only got out of the hospital yesterday?" He answers the question with a question as he continues to wash you, being extremely gentle. His fingers caress the scalp of your head as his other hand lazily runs the sponge over your body, making sure to clean every bit of you.
You would appreciate it if he left your side for just five seconds. Or at least for one. Ever since you saw him watching over your hospital bed, he hasn't left your side. And the peacekeepers seemed to be circling around you all the time.
"Yes, and since my accident, you haven't left my side even for once."
"Does this surprise you?" His point is right. You could have predicted he would be like this. Just like how he'll be jealous of every peacekeeper around you, which is why he either always had his arm wrapped around you or had women watching over you when he REALLY needed to leave your side. To another room. With the door open, so he could look at you while he talked on the phone or did whatever he had to do.
"I don't like this shampoo." You change the subject, wincing as you straighten the leg that was removed from the cast yesterday.
He looks at you scoldingly and gently grabs your leg. You moan as he massages your muscles, just like the physical therapist showed him. He only allowed female doctors to see you. And he always had to be present in the room. As if you couldn't take care of yourself or trust a damn doctor.
Yet you allow him a bit of this... madness. You actually found it sweet how protective he became of you. Not enough to not snap at him when he was really crossing the line, but it was still sweet to see him concerned and so tender in his care for you.
"A little lower." You tell him, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the tub.
"Don't do that." Coriolanus says this and gently places his fingers on your neck, pushing your head forward a little. "You can't rest the back of your head on anything yet."
"I'm not a baby, Snow. I know what I can and cannot do." You say it stubbornly. He sighs and rolls his eyes at you. He gets up from his knees and begins to quickly undress. You can't help but blush at the sight of his toned, well-muscled body. You're getting a little hot. Especially since you haven't had him in you for a long time. "I thought I was really sick?" You ask teasingly, biting your lip as you watch him closely.
"You are. Move over." He says this and sits behind you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder so that your wound doesn't touch his skin or the tub.
"You've gone soft, Snow." You're mocking him. If you turned around, you would see a soft smile on his lips.
"On the contrary, this way, I can feel you better. Especially your sweet ass, which teases me. Keep doing this, and I'll spank you."
"I thought the car hit me too hard for you to fuck me?" You say it jokingly, but instead of laughing or responding with a comment, he tenses. Concerned, you turn in his arms to look at him. He has a thoughtful expression on his face. You see a bit of anger on her face, a bit of resentment, and a bit of something resembling nervousness. "Coryo?"
"You wanted to run away? Then?" He asks you thoughtfully. You shiver as his eyes pierce yours, searching for any hint of lie or truth. Automatically, he holds you tighter against him and reaches for the faucet to add warm water to the bathtub.
"You know that I can't I am the president." You respond, letting him hug you tightly. You bury your face in his neck, nuzzling his neck with your nose. He's trembling too now. He pulls away gently and cups your chin. He forces you to look at him, examining your face carefully.
"I'm not asking you if you could. I'm asking you if you wanted to. Did you want to run away from me?"
There is silence between you for a moment. The only sound is the splash of water flowing into the bathtub. You lick your lips and kiss him briefly and quickly. Before he has a chance to kiss you back, you pull away from him and turn off the tap.
"No. I needed to calmly think about a few things. And you know how... explosive we can be together when we both get into each other's thoughts."
"I guess so. Which didn't explain your behaviour earlier. That little burst of tears. What was it really about?"
He lets you play with his fingers underwater. You don't look at him, collecting your thoughts, wondering how honest you can be with him. You remind yourself that he is meant to be your husband, and if so, you want nothing less than a partner. After his grandmother died, he changed, but he was right. He wasn't the same Coryo. He couldn't be. Not after what he was put through. And you weren't the same Y/N. He accepted it... you guess. But could you do the same?
"I guess... I guess I am scared you will love it more. That you will love power over me... or other things... just like you always did."
"I beg your pardon?" He asks, surprised, even shocked. You frown and move your gaze to his chest, nervously nibbling at his skin.
"You always had something more important than me. The Plinth Prize. Lucy Gray. The Hunger Games. Dr. Gaul's favor. The Presidency. There was always something above me." You tell him, not looking him in the eyes.
An awkward silence falls between you. You are afraid to interrupt her. And you can barely move without his help, so you'll stick with it as long as he wants you to. The bastard knew you had no escape; that's why he brought this topic up.
"I did it to be someone. To matter in the Capitol. So that I can marry you. So I could be able to take care of you and Tigris. You know it well."
"And I would marry you and live in poverty if only we could be together. You know it well." You respond quickly, using his words. He wrinkles his nose in obvious displeasure, shifting in the tub and tightening his grip on you even more.
"That's the last thing I wanted for you. What I wanted for my family. What I wanted for myself."
"And what do you want now?" Your question catches him off guard, as if he's heard it before somewhere. You look at him carefully, seeing thousands of thoughts running through his head.
He remembers his conversation with Lucy Grey—her ghost, apparition, drunken vision, or whatever she was. He wasn't sure of his answer then. Not completely. But now that your eyes were staring at him instead of the district girl, he had no doubts about what he wanted.
"The first man I killed was a boy from the district." He starts playing with your hair as he begins his confession. "Tribute in the arena. Sejanus entered there after his friend from the district was... you know. Dr. Gaul told me to get him out of there before anyone noticed him. As we were leaving... he ran up to us. The tribute. He wanted to kill us. I grabbed something metal and heavy and hit him. Everywhere. Head, torso, legs, and arms. Until he stopped moving. The second person was the daughter of the mayor of District 12. Sejanus was conspiring with some people from the district. He gave them weapons. He was under the illusion that they would just organise a peaceful demonstration, but they shot several peacekeepers. She walked in in the middle of our conversation when I caught them. Right after her was Lucy Gray. They didn't like each other, and we... were close then. I had to shoot her. Not to protect Sejanus or her. I... all I could think about was that if I didn't kill her, then they would hang me too, and I wouldn't be able to come back... I'd never come back to you and Tigirs. And the third... the third was Sejanus. The one who was at every one of my murders. I... remember the time spent in 12 vaguely. But his scream when they were hanging him haunts me and will continue to haunt me in my dreams very... very precisely."
You remain silent after his long speech. You didn't expect him to ever tell you about his time in 12. Or about the people he killed. That he would open up enough to really admit his crimes to you. What should worry you is that he doesn't regret his actions and that he talks about them... too lightly. But how would you react in his place? Wouldn't your impulses be similar? To defend yourself from everything? At least in these first two cases...
"And for the past few days, all I could think about was that you would be my fourth. So don't say I don't care about you, that I don't put you above everything else, when all I could think about was that I would shoot myself if you died, because there is no life for me without you. You haunt me everywhere. You are everywhere. I see you everywhere; I remember your touch, your smell, and your taste. I am addicted to you... just like you are to me."
"So... you killed two?" You ask, swallowing, holding back tears of emotion at his words.
Maybe he actually cared about you more than you thought? But could he? Now he would say anything to marry you, to become the president's husband, and with time maybe a president... you remember how they called him that. But did it really bother you? Have someone with whom you can share the burden of running the country? He would certainly be better able to silence pesky ministers than you or Clem.
"Three." His whisper interrupts your internal thoughts. You look up at him and see him staring thoughtfully into the water. You cup his cheek and force him to look into your eyes.
"You didn't put a rope around his neck, Coryo."
"Maybe not physically. But it's because of me that he's dead. You know it. Why are you trying to justify me?" His question confused you because you had no idea what to say back. You knew why you were doing it and why you were trying to explain his actions to yourself.
And you also knew perfectly well who was behind half of your presidential palace exploding. You couldn't cancel the Hunger Games after something like that. Not now. But maybe it was good? Maybe you can slowly make the changes you want? It was foolish to think that Coriolanus would simply accept it. But gradually... giving him more and more power and autonomy... maybe you could even split the presidency between the two of you? Then he wouldn't be so insistent on keeping the Hunger Games.
"We are not good for each other." You whisper, catching his gaze. You gently stroke his cheek with your thumb as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"I've never said we are." He answers. The water is getting colder around you.
"We will break each other." You whisper, leaning towards him. You rub your noses against each other and rest your foreheads against each other. The closeness between you makes you feel warmer, even as the water around you becomes more and more icy.
"Possibly... I will not beg you to stay."
"Me neither." You say and capture his lips in a kiss. He tightens his grip on you, his fingers digging into your waist as he presses you against him. You feel his every muscle and movement when you kiss, forgetting about everything around you and all the problems that are waiting for you outside.
You're both lying. You both would keep the other one by your side at all costs. Even if you are not able to admit it to yourselves and become truly vulnerable, you know what the unspoken truth is between you two. You knew each other too long and deeply to live apart and never have contact with each other.
"I love you, Coriolanus." You whisper as he picks you up and walks towards his bed. He stops for a moment, stunned and shocked by your confession.
Coriolanus. Not Coryo. Not his old self.
"I love you too, Y/N. Never doubt that." He kisses you hungrily and greedily, feeling like he's won everything the moment you both fall onto his mattress.
And with your every touch, every gasp, and every moan of his name, he makes himself completely sure about the decision he has made. Maybe the power over you would be enough for him, or maybe not. For now, it was good to be able to fall into each other's arms. To have someone to come home to...
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"Are you sure?" Tigris asks you as she is straightening your veil and wedding dress. "Clem and I have prepared a contingency plan just in case. Say the word, and we'll cancel it all. It's just the four of us, your parents and my fiancé. No one will know. And Clem will make up some story for the press and convince the priest to keep... the secret of the confession, or whatever you want to call it."
"I'm sure. There is no turning back. I won't wear this dress again, and it would be a pity to let it go to waste."
"I'm glad you like the dress, but what about your fiancé?"
"He's not that bad." You joke, and you both laugh. You're both interrupted by Clem's arrival. She whistles when she sees you.
"My God, you look even better than at the fittings. Maybe it's good that you're having this private wedding. I was angry at the beginning, as was half of the Capitol, but thanks to this, any photo published will be more eagerly watched and anticipated by people. Plus, Coryo might not kill someone out of jealousy that someone else sees you like that. Take care of your fiancé, Tigris."
"Everything will be fine." You tell them, looking at yourself in the mirror. The bracelet from Sejanus is on your wrist again. A wedding gift from Coryo.
"And where does this certainty come from?" You shrug at Clem's question and give her a mischievous smile.
"Snow lands on top." With a smile, you watch as horror and realisation appear on Clem's face. You laugh along with Tigris as she sighs dramatically.
"NO! Just not this! Don't tell me you're taking his surname, and now you're going to throw out this stupid text too! I listened to it for half of the Academy; I can't stand it for half my life, and what's worse, in your version!"
"It won't be that bad. I'll be Y/L/N-Snow.”
"This will be even worse! You can use both! Your future kids too!" She complains, not caring about your laughter. Coriolanus was right; her reaction was worth everything.
"Nope. Only I can use both. The kids, if there are any, will have his last name. I had to make some compromise."
"Kudos to him for that. Maybe I won't go crazy before I'm 40." You are about to express your doubts, but just then your mother comes in, looking at you with tears of emotion in her eyes.
"It's time. Should we sing 'Here Comes the Bride?'"
"Only if you're drunk enough." You joke and take the bouquet from Tigris. You hug both of your girls and your mother and go to your father, so he can walk you to the altar.
"You look beautiful. Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks you as soon as you get there.
"This is the second person asking me this; should I have doubts? Because I don't." You reply jokingly, but you know he notices how your hands are shaking.
"I trust him with you. It's obvious he loves you. And my old eyes tell me he's probably nervous too, maybe more than you are." He says this and nods towards the window.
The presidential palace has them tinted, so Coriolanus and your immediate family gathered in the garden cannot see you, but you can see them. And you see him staring at the door, waiting for you to enter. You see him playing with the sleeve of his cuff thoughtfully, with probably thousands of scenarios going through his head in which you leave him at the altar. And you're tempted to do it and see if he would chase you...
"I am sure. Let's go now... or he'll have a heart attack." You joke, trying to laugh it off.
Your father nods. He opens the door and leads you towards the altar. You don't hear the music around you, and you don't notice how warm the evening is.
All you can look at is Coriolanus.
And he just looks at you too, a smirk on his face. Not the one when he wins over his enemy and when his plans go his way. It's a sincere smile, the one you love more than life itself, the one that the poor boy with whom you shared your lunch had. Coriolanus Snow's happy smile dispels all your doubts.
The wedding ceremony is somewhere near you. Somehow, you don't pay attention to the words being said; you don't register any sound. Only the Coryo pattern counts. His tight grip on your hands and the fact that he's just as nervous and scared as you are, but you both don't run away. You just stand there, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes, because right now that's all that matters. You two. No Capitol, no Panem, and no districts—no nightmares of the past.
Just you two and this one moment. And you know that whatever happens, it will either break your heart or keep it alive forever. Because the undeniable truth is that you will need each other forever.
What difference does it make how many times you go from lovers to enemies to lovers and back again as long as you always found your way back to each other's arms?
You were practiced at breaking and mending your hearts.
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wonderlandwalker · 5 months
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Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.
Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence
Word Count: 3.4k
A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos
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This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.
Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.
But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.
The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.
“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.
“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.
He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.
“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.
"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.
"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.
He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.
“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”
And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.
He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.
Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.
It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after
Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.
“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.
“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.
“Go back where?”
“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”
“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.
“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”
The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.
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When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.
“Where?” She asked him
“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.
“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.
“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”
“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”
“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.
“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”
“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?
“They’re at the swamp”
“How are you so sure?”
“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”
“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.
“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.
“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.
“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”
“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.
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While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.
He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.
“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.
“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.
“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”
And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.
“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.
“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”
“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.
“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.
He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.
He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’
It was far too late for that.
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When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.
“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.
Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.
“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.
But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.
He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.
He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.
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When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.
“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.
“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.
“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.
“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.
“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.
“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.
“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.
“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”
“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”
Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.
“Goddamnit”
You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.
“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.
You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.
After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.
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onlybeeewrites · 6 months
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Meadow's Lullaby
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Requests: Yes!
Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x fem!reader, onesided Coriolanus x reader, platonic Lucy Gray x reader
Warnings: none, this is a fluffy one....for now :)
Word count: 1.3K
The Valley Song Series: Part 1 <- -> Part 3
Author's Note: You guys are literally so amazing??? Thank you so much for showing your love for The Valley Song. I came up with this idea and direction so hopefully you all enjoy it. Thank you, lovies! Also once again, because I love Maiah Wynne, the music below is what the reader plays :)) Also this was just so much fun to write
You were a lot shyer than Lucy Gray. That was one of the first things that came to Coriolanus' mind as he watched Lucy Gray pull you over as the performance ended for the night. Maude Ivory had taken your old wooden guitar from you as the rest of the Covey put their instruments away and gathered all the donations from around the Hob.
Your shy and bashful nature had intrigued Coriolanus greatly, but it had with Sejanus as well. He could tell so as his...friend's face got more pink in his cheeks as you neared. A curiosity in his eyes as you neared.
"Y/N, It is finally time for you to meet my boy, Coriolanus Snow. And this is his fine friend, Sejanus," Lucy Gray had introduced them. Her boy, he thought to himself with great distaste. Coriolanus did not belong to anyone, and his little songbird counted. He was not one to be owned. He owned others.
"Y/N here is my older cousin. Just by a year though so it ain't nothing fancy." Lucy Gray said with a laugh, causing you to shyly roll your eyes at your cousin's words. It was clear this wasn't the first time this was brought up in any sort of conversation.
"A pleasure to meet you, Y/N" Coriolanus said with a charming smile and a nod as Lucy Gray let go of her cousin's hand and moved to step beside Coryo, her arm going around his waist.
You gave him a bit of a shy smile as you gave him a nod, "The pleasure is all mine, Coriolanus. I cannot thank you enough for bringing my cousin back to us. I owe you," you chuckled. And even your chuckle was like soft wind chimes; soft.
Sejanus could not help but look to you in some sort of admiration. Even by the look in your eyes, you were gentle kind, and compassionate. Even after all you had been through with losing your family, singing for your dinners, almost losing your cousin...you were still kind. Almost like him.
Your eyes moved to look at him and you could feel your face heating up. He was beautiful. Almost too beautiful, especially to be somewhere like here in District Twelve. You couldn't help but wonder what he had done to be sent there.
"Pleasure to meet you Sejanus.." You say after a moment of almost staring at each other, realizing the silence may have gone on for a little bit too long. In the corner of your eye, you see your cousin smirking at you, glancing up at Coryo as if she had planned this sort of meeting all along.
"Trust me....the pleasure is all mine. You were uh...you were amazing up there by the way," Sejanus said nervously, though the smile stayed on his face.
The bashful smile returned to your lips at his almost too-kind words. "Why thank you. I don't sing on my own very often so I'm pleased you enjoyed it,"
Lucy Gray grinned before remembering. "Oh! I almost forgot. The Covey, we're all making a trip out tomorrow. You both should join us!" she offered.
Coriolanus and Sejanus both shared a look. They both had nothing else to do. So after a moment of sharing a look, Coriolanus smiled slightly and nodded, "We'd love to,"
Lucy Gray almost squealed with excitement, "Oh perfect. You boys are going to love it. Coryo, come by our house by mornin', alright? We'll see you both tomorrow," she said with a grin, taking your hand and rushing back towards the rest of the covey.
You turned and gave them both one last wave and smile before being pulled backstage, leaving the two boys in almost awe: Sejanus being more obvious.
"I can't wait for tomorrow," Sejanus sighed.
When tomorrow finally came, the two boys made it to the small Covey home on the edge of the Seam. And by an hour after sunrise, you all started the hike up to the lake. You lingered behind talking with Barb Azure, listening to Maude Ivory singing and Lucy speaking with Coryo. Halfway through you lingered back, falling back in step with Sejanus.
After hours of hiking, you all made it to the lake and set your things down. The heat was seemingly unbearable, and many of the covey found their way to the lake, aching to cool off their skin with the cold water.
You decided to join them later. Moving to settle under one of the nearby trees, you fixed your old dress before pulling your guitar onto your lap. Your delicate fingers started to string along to the song that Lucy Gray would sing whenever anyone had any nightmares.
As you played you failed to see Sejanus, who was about to join the others in the water before spotting you on your own. He didn't think twice before he made his way over to you, taking a seat a little next to you.
You looked up in surprise, pausing the strumming of the delicate cords. "Sejanus. Sorry, I didn't hear you coming," you add with a smile, flattered and almost happy that out of everything, he wanted to come and sit with you.
"Well I saw you were on your own, figured you could use some company," he used as an excuse, feeling his face warm; though with the heat of the day, it was hard to tell the difference. "What were you playing? I sounded pretty," he then asked.
"Oh, it was just some music I wrote for one of Lucy Gray's songs. She calls it Deep in the Meadow. She usually sings it when Maude Ivory has a nightmare or trouble sleeping. I figured I could add some music to help," you explain, looking at him, flushing as you realize that he never once had taken his eyes off you.
And how beautiful his eyes were. You could see the kindness and admiration, they were captivating and warm. And it all caused a fluttering within your stomach.
"You wrote that all yourself?" He asked in amazement, and as you nodded he gave a small whistle, "That is incredible....could you play something else you wrote?" he asked hopefully before he quickly added in what seemed to be panic, "Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to, I just...your playing is beautiful.."
His words made you grow flustered, but you gave out a small laugh. Something about him allowed you to feel comfortable where you had never felt comfortable before. There were very few people outside the covey that you would do this with, Sejanus may have just been the quickest that you allowed.
"No...no, I don't mind," you quickly reassured him before playing another song you had written, leaving the capital boy silent as he admired the music you had created.
As you both were having your moment, playing him your music, neither of you was aware of the pale eyes that were watching from the water. Coriolanus felt his jaw clench at the sight of them, how Sejanus was able to chat you up about whatever it was.
What were you both talking about? He hated that he didn't know, that he wasn't in the loop, that he couldn't control whatever it was that came from Sejanus' mouth.
Lucy Gray gently climbing onto his back, wrapping her arms around him to keep afloat snapped him out of his thoughts.
"I think they'd make a mighty fine couple, wouldn't you say?" she asked, rather pleased with her match-making skills. Coriolanus on the other hand, wasn't as pleased. But regardless he nodded.
"Hm. She seems a fine match for Sejanus." A fine match was the nicest thing he could come up with as he stared at the few figures underneath the tree.
A fine match with Sejanus would be enough for you now, but he wondered how fine it would be when trouble would eventually find its way back around.
507 notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 6 months
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UNDER THE MISTLETOE | epilogue
summary; a year later, your bond with azriel is still going just as strong. new years eve with your mate couldn't be sweeter.
word count; 3171
notes; I know this was highly anticipated, and I'm sorry it's so short, but it is just an epilogue, not a full fic! I hope this isn't too disappointing to anyone! <3
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Staring out across the beautiful cityscape of Velaris, your eyes wandered across the twinkling lights of the town. From house to house, all over the city. The rainbow was lit up even more magnificently than usual tonight, celebrations so loud you could hear them from here if you strained your ear, cheers and singing and dancing, the revelry of happy people, finally celebrating in peace after so many years of darkness. 
Beyond them, snow-capped mountains glowed under the bright moonlight and the stars, the clear sky a lucky twist of fate, as though even the Heavens wanted to be here tonight, watching. Second to Starfall, New Year's was your favourite holiday. A chance for a fresh start, to reflect on everything, to make new plans or to wipe the slate clean. To watch fireworks explode in the cold night sky, glittering and beautiful. 
Taking a sip of Rhysand’s expensive champagne from the glass in your hand, you sighed happily. As you did, a pair of strong arms circled your waist, familiar hands smoothing over your stomach, and tugging you back into a firm chest. Warm lips fell to the crook of your neck as your head fell back on his shoulder, delicate kisses dotted along your shoulder. Dropping your free hand to clasp those around your body, you traced your fingers delicately over scarred skin, eyes slipped closed in his embrace. 
“Hello, my love.” His voice was a low murmur, deep in your ear and humming along your skin. 
“Hi, Azzy.”
Turning in his arms, you looped your hands carefully around his neck, his head bowing to meet your own as he finally stole a sweet, simple kiss for your lips. He tasted like whiskey and sugar, no doubt pumped full of candy Nyx forced him to try, the small boy having kept him hostage all night. Despite it, he’d never let you out of his sights, you’d barely been out here for ten minutes before Azriel had come to find you, following you like a puppy. 
Leaning in a little further, your tongue teased along his lower lip, and he let out a soft groan as he parted them. The kisses grew, his mouth sealing over your own, passion like it was the first kiss you’d ever shared all over again, not the thousandth. Tightening your hold on him, his wings fluttered, circling your body to close out the rest of the world as he hauled you in further, up against his chest. 
Your heart was thudding in time with his own, beating in sync like they had done for just over a year now. 
Only days ago, you’d celebrated your one-year anniversary, taking a few days up at the cabin and away from every, just the two of you, no clothes, and a lot of sleepless nights. The desperation might have died down, but the infatuation still remained as strong as ever. One look, one touch, one kiss was enough to drive you crazy. You were utterly at his mercy, him just as much at yours, and you truly hoped that the intensity between you both never faded. 
He pulled back with a sigh, one more final kiss left on your lips, before he was smiling, forehead on your own. “What are you doing out here, it’s cold.”
You couldn't hep but smirk at that, brows raising a little as you looked up at him. It certainly wasn’t the coldest you’d ever been, there wasn’t even a layer of goosebumps on your exposed skin. But, he had always been a worrier, and your mate bond only seemed to enhance that, even now. “Just… thinking, that’s all.”
“Good thoughts, I hope?” He leaned in, a peck to your lips before you could even respond, and you smiled, stealing another one when he pulled back. 
“Thoughts about us.” your nose bumped his as you leaned up. You tipped your head further, pecking the tip of his nose, and he smiled sweetly. His cheeks flushed with a little warmth, the same way they always did when you gave him this kind of attention, a happy sound escaping him at that affection. 
“Care to share any of these thoughts?”
“All in due time,” You whisper in response, and he merely grunts, “Just thinking about the future.”
“I do that a lot too.”
You knew as much, Azriel had a habit of telling you. When you’d get in bed at night, his head on your chest, all the weight of him grounding you to the mattress as you played with the soft, dark curls atop his head, he’d spill about his day. All the thoughts he’d had, the jokes Cassian had told him, the things that reminded him of you, and his plans. His ideas, even the goofy ones that he knew he wouldn't actually do. 
There wasn’t a thing he ever wanted to keep to himself, and you liked to soak up every part of him that you could. 
The music from inside could reach you, even out here, a band playing beautiful songs and together, the two of you began to sway. No talk was needed but your body moved with his, your feet staying planted as you danced together gently, wrapped in one another’s embrace. His face dipped down, burying into your neck again, and he sighed happily onto your skin. 
The moment was perfect… only broken when Azriel received a small shove. 
Untangling yourselves, he glanced around, gaze dropping to the ground, to see a moody toddler, arms crossed. “Uncle Az, you said we were going to colour in my book!”
Azriel gave you an exasperated look, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, before stepping back. Leaning down, he scooped Nyx up under his arms, lifting him up into his arms. The small boy’s wings batted angrily, portraying his emotions. He truly as a little lordling, always used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. 
“Alright, little bat. Come on.” Your mate sighed, adjusting the boy to sit on his hip and stepping towards the door. You watched them go, a small smile on your lips, and he turned back to look at you. “Don’t stay out here too long, love.”
You shook your head, offering your hand to him as you walked forward. His smile grew, and he took your fingers, linking them with his own and raising your clasped hands to kiss your knuckles. Leading you both inside, Nyx babbled on about the drawings he and Az would be colouring in, you were pointedly not invited at any stage of events as you made your way back to the ballroom, and Azriel rolled his eyes fondly when the youngster wasn’t looking. 
Stepping back into the bustle of the room, you glanced around, gasping happily when you spotted a familiar face and two heads of white hair in the crowd. 
Azriel only chuckled, releasing your hand and motioning for you to go, before dropping Nyx down and being led away by the hand. 
Darting through the people, Vivianne saw you just in time, a squeal on her lips as she opened her arms for you to fly into. The two of you collided gently, arms wrapping tightly around one another. 
You cupped her face, kissing both of her cheeks as she smiled, all but bouncing as you were reunited. You’d kept in touch all year, letters going back and forth so fast you could hardly keep up with them, but for one reason or another, you’d yet to have crossed paths again, life always getting in the way. Until now. 
“You’re here, you made it!”
Pulling back from her, Kallias grinned, laughing as he swept you up into a hug, your feet leaving the floor momentarily with his enthusiasm. 
“Oh, I missed you both, so much! I can’t believe it’s been a year, already.” For more than one reason, the time had flown, not just missing your friends or your time with Azriel, but so many things had taken place. “We cannot let so long go by again.”
Vivianne clutched your hands as her husband released you, her forehead coming to your own as she giggled. “We will make it our new resolutions to make it so. Besides, it should be an exciting year, we don’t want to miss a thing.”
You cocked a brow at her statement, but she didn’t expand, not as Mor was rushing over in excitement too, greeting both of them herself, and then Kallias was excusing himself as Rhysand and Helion beckoned him over. Vivianne linked her arm with your own, Mor on the other side, and turned to face you with a smirk as the blonde guided your trio through the room. 
Gathering in the kitchen, a private break away from all the noise, Mor set about preparing drinks, handing them out to you all. Vivianne smiled, cheers-ing with you both, and Mor took a heavy chug from her own as you sipped at yours. 
“Jeez, Mor! What did you put in this?” The burn of alcohol down your throat had the ice queen chuckling, putting her drink down and nudging it away from herself. 
“It’s New Year’s Eve, don’t be a buzzkill!” She chuckled, taking another gulp from her glass as though it were water. 
“I heard Mor is pouring, does that mean we’re getting fucked up?” Nesta slipped into the room, and the blonde cheered excitedly as someone matched her energy, Feyre and Elain following, arm in arm, as the youngest sister rolled her eyes. 
“Looks like Cassian will be carrying someone back home later, before the clock even strikes midnight.” Feyre tutted, but accepted a drink nonetheless as Mor poured them and began to distribute them. 
“What’s the point of having a great, big, hulking boyfriend if not to carry me home when I have fun?”
“Now that I can cheers to,” You grin, tapping your glass on her own, and she smirked. Elain laughed lightly, lifting herself onto the counter, and swinging her legs as she clutched her cup between both hands, wincing as she took that first sip. “Don’t worry, it burns your tastebuds right off after that first taste, now you won’t taste anything else for weeks.”
She giggled at Mor’s scoff, taking a sip, and the six of you gathered around into a tighter group as hushed discussion took over. 
Nesta made sure to fill everyone in on herself and Cassian. The two had no plans to truly settle down anytime soon, far too busy battling and playing with swords to even consider a child. They were going to travel some more this year, Nesta wanted to visit every Court, and while Cassian unfortunately couldn't visit them all, whether it was allergies or laws that kept him barred, he was happy to oblige for most Courts. The Winter Court became the first on her list, when Viv promised her a stay like no other, any time they wanted. 
The High Lord and Lady were battling that stage of ‘terrible twos’ with Nyx. He was bouncing like a ping-pong ball between loving mama or loving dada more, but never both. One was always the enemy. He was also jumping between desperate for a sibling, pleading and begging and fighting as he checked every Solstice box for a baby brother, and deciding if he ever saw another child in his life he’d throw a fit. Feyre had a perpetual headache, and Rhys was at the end of his tether, but both had never been happier,
Elain and Lucien were skipping between here and the human lands, repairing bonds as their bond grew ever stronger, giving Elain the perfect mixed life she’d always dreamt of. Mor and Emerie were moving into their own home, and bickering every single day on how to decorate. 
Then, there was you and Azriel.
Vivianne had chosen to avoid Mor’s attempt on everyone’s lives and had found herself something else to drink. Sipping through the straw coyly, she eyed you, and you waited. “So, you and your Az looked sweet, walking in with baby Nyx. Sweeter with your own baby on his hip, I’m sure.”
You sighed at her, raising your brows, even with the smile growing on your lips. “Not anytime soon.”
“And why not?” She pressed, her hands on her hips like your declaration had ruined her life. 
“Because… we’re taking things slow.” Stirring your drink, you stared happily into the swirling alcohol, smiling to yourself as you thought of your lover. “Took us long enough to get together, we figured we have time to savour every step.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled in that sisterly way you loved so much. “Well, alright. I can allow that. Not too slowly, I hope.”
“You’re impatient!”
“I’m excited!” She clarified, and you grinned into the rim of your glass, taking a sip. 
“And, where exactly are your little icicles, hm? You and Kallias have been together longer than Az and I.”
Instead of sniping back, and utterly lovestruck, wondrous expression passed over her features. She smoothed a hand over her stomach, and your own flew to your mouth as you gasped. “Well…” She whispered, shrugging bashfully at the shriek you made. 
“You’re serious?” Discarding your drink to the nearest surface, you rushed to her, and she lifted her bulky winter sweater. You hadn't suspected a thing before, but now, as she revealed her stomach, you could see the slight bump forming. She took your wrist, lifting your hand, and your eyes watered as you looked between her face and your hand on her warm skin. “I can’t believe it!”
Everyone crowded in, then. A thousand questions were being fired at the elated new mother-to-be, who was happy to answer every single one, showing off the bump she was beginning to grow. 
Nyx would get that new playmate after all, taking a little of the weight off of Feyre and Rhys, with an heir to the Winter Court at last. Stepping back to let everyone else have their moment too, you leaned back on the counter, smiling at the love and excitement surrounding you at every turn. 
A tugging on the bond pulled your attention away, and a haze fell over everything as the feeling in your chest sharpened to full focus. Smiling to yourself, you rubbed absently at the spot where you could feel your love. Tugging back, the thread between you both vibrated contentedly, and you could feel his happy hum on your skin, the trace of phantom arms around your waist.
“Needy thing, your mate, isn’t he?” Feyre’s voice sliced through the bubble, and she was leaning on the counter beside you. “Do you think it’s an Illyrian thing?”
“Hmm.” You smirked, “Potentially. I can barely get a moment away before he’s pulling along the rope to find me.” You made sure the notion reached him, a warning burst reaching your chest, teasing and light, like a nip to the shell of your ear, and you shuddered. 
“Let’s go find our needy Illyrians, hm?” Her arm laced through your own, following the steps Nesta had not long taken. 
Hidden in the back of the room, Rhysand was spread across a couch, his son sleepily yawning in his lap as he tried to stay awake, while Azriel and Cassian both sat in the low-backed armchairs before the roaring fire. He never had to glance up to feel you coming, raising a hand to his shoulder at the same time you reached out to him, leaning over the chair from behind and kissing the top of his head. 
He pulled you around the chair and across his lap, nuzzling at your cheek as needy kisses trailed from your cheek to your mouth, and you grinned, turning to face him and rewarding him with a single kiss. He didn’t seem too satisfied with that, a glint in his eyes promising more was to come, but he let you adjust comfortably across him. 
“What did you ladies talk about?”
“I can’t tell you that, Az, or it wouldn't be girl talk, would it?” Your words had his eyes narrowing, calculated gaze fixed on you, “What did you boys talk about?”
“Can’t tell you that, baby, or it wouldn't be guy talk.” He retorted, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your jaw in his hand as a response, twisting your smushed face back to him and kissing you. He was smirking as he pulled back, leaning in close enough to share breath. “Kal and Viv, right?”
You caved to his charms, smiling as you shared the same space, wrapped up in him, “Mhm.”
He only smiled, nothing more needing to be said between the pair of you. 
“Viv asks when it’ll be us. Says we looked good walking in, hand in hand, Nyx on your hip.” Azriel’s eyes snapped open, straightening up as he put several inches between you both. Your hand smoothed up his chest, settling on his neck, trying to suppress your laughter. His pulse raced under your palm, your hand sliding behind his head and into his hair. “Relax, Azzy. I told her how we’re taking things slow, at our own pace.”
“But— But… I mean— It’s not like I’m opposed to it, but—” He sputtered over his words, and you kissed him silent, his shaky kisses returned with vigour, the trembling bond between you both settling steadily again. 
“We have things to do first, I’m in no rush to move through our milestones. I want you all to myself, for a little while longer.” You pulled him back in, kissing across his cheek, lips travelling to his ear, “And when I say that, I mean it.”
Despite it being whispered, Rhysand still hurled a mental stone at your walls, snickering to himself at your gasp as he eavesdropped on your private dig at him. Turning around, you glared, flipping him off mentally. He smirked, sipping his drink and patting his son between the wings as the small boy slumped asleep over his thighs. 
Turning away, you sealed yourself back into the haze with Azriel, his mouth travelling along your jaw, your head tipped back.
“Must we really wait until midnight before I can kiss you properly, Azzy?”
“I suppose, we could be early for once in our lives. Kiss me now, we’ll pretend it’s midnight.” He whispered, a lazy smile on his face when you looked at him. He was so beautiful, the man who owned your heart was like a work of art, watching you with such sweet love that it made you want to melt. 
“I love you, Azriel.” You whispered onto his lips, lessening the gap between you both, and a content sound rumbled free from his chest. 
“I love you, my dear. To another year, another decade, century, with you.”
“To forever, together.” You finalised, and he nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as a flood of his emotions overwhelmed you from your words. 
“Forever sounds like a wonderful place to start.”
649 notes · View notes
answer2jeff · 6 months
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this you knew.
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warnings : (workplace) established but private relationship. fluff. that's about it actually.
also, this mostly just weirdly poetic and emotional writing. not a lot of plot or substance. sorry!
a/n: carmen refers to reader as "pico," short for "piccola" (small), and reader refers to carmen as raga, short for "ragazzone," (big boy) sorry if these nicknames are cringe they're cute to me !!!!
Fuck, it was cold.
Why did winter have to stretch out for such an excruciating amount of time? It had been snowing since late November—which, at this rate, might continue until March, give or take.
The holidays had just passed, stores were back open, The Bear was back under maintenance, leisure was nonexistent. There was no need for slush on the sidewalks and frost on your car window. You'd already spent the holidays with your extended family, even after swearing up and down you had no intention on coming home this year. Anything remotely related to that mistake needed to be disposed of.
Tonight was calm. Almost too calm. Richie and Marcus were still laying out the general foundation of the dining hall, and Carmen finally beat his record timing for passing through each station of the kitchen marked by green tape. You were pretty much free to go home. Especially since Sydney was the first to leave and encouraged you to do the same.
But just as you walked out of the empty kitchen space through the back door, something urged you to walk back in.
Just act like you forgot something.
Quickly swinging the door open and turning the corner into Natalie's office, where you knew Carmen would be, you stopped. Just barely near the frame.
Altered by your presence, Carmen snapped out of the trance that was staring at the empty space of the wall in front of him. He spun around in the 5-wheeled chair to face you.
"Raga?" you called out, not wanting to intrude as you stepped into the box of the office. Despite the door being wide open like it always was.
Raga. Sure, he wasn't a huge fan of petnames—but it made him feel like he was yours.
And he was. And you were his. Possibly for months now. And you even started to feel it. The word "boyfriend," though it wasn't used religiously, didn't feel bitter in your mouth. The way your name rolled off of Carmen's tongue was addictive to him. He preferred it over a simple 'she' when he spoke of you. You were chaos, but grace all in one.
You told your closest friends about a week after he spoke the words
"I don't really know what I'm doing, but that's—that's okay. It's more than okay. I want this."
But you hadn't told your family, and not even your true, chosen one. Which was here, in this restaurant, and everyone who played a part in it. But perhaps they already knew. Neither you or Carmen were particularly good at keeping secretes.
Just because your mouth stopped, didn't mean your body language or your face did.
Smiles and glances, whispers in corners of the restaurant incoherent to anyone else, his kisses against your temples that weren't as discreet as he hoped, it made it obvious.
But it felt right. This was okay. More than okay.
"Pico?" he repeated, mirroring that same skeptical voice you used just seconds earlier.
Eyebrows knitted with concern, your teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you stood with your weight on your hip and your arms crossed against your chest. Carmen realized you stood like this all the time. But right now, he almost felt like he was in some kind of trouble; the way you eyed him above his level. Like you'd been looking for him and he failed to come to your assistance.
His urge to cave and melt into you was overwhelming. Big, blue eyes peered up at you as he leaned forward, prepared to listen. You only smiled while shrugging your shoulders and leaning against the doorframe.
"Think everybody went home. I didn't really see y'leave. Just—" you swallowed, "—wondered if you'd left or not."
That seemed to finally be enough to soothe him. You just wanted to know if he was here; if he was okay and ready to go home like he should've been.
"Uh—yeah, yeah, I'm still here."
"Yeah, I see that now."
The room stilled. Silence bounced off the drywall. But it was comfortable. It wasn't forced or unwanted. Just simple. And simplicity was scarce at the moment.
"C'mere," Carmen mumbled as he motioned his hand to signal you to come in, his voice barely audible, "just for a 'sec."
Caving in, his cadence and the look in his eyes being enough to convince you, you stepped in. He blinked slowly so as to not miss a single bit of you. For once, you could appreciate the slow of time in this room.
"I'm feeling really good about this," you smiled down at him, "this whole thing, I mean. Mikey woulda' been so proud 'f you, Carmen."
The lump in his throat was harshly swallowed back down as he nodded his head, not quite smiling, but not frowning either. You knew that face all too well. It was the face of guilt. He always wondered if he'd been doing the right thing. Lately it'd been easier to convince himself that the renovation was right, and that he was completely and fully capable of making these "adult decisions," as you called them.
"Thank you."
It was mostly thanks to you, though.
A delicate hand reached for a curl that fell just past his eyebrow. You wrapped the blonde strands around your finger, glancing from his eyes and back to his hair, just to see if he'd been watching you as closely as you hoped. Almost as if it had been second nature, he tilted his head up for easier access as you pulled away from his hair and reached to cup his clean-shaven cheek.
"I mean it, bear," your thumb gently caressed his skin as you spoke. He looked up at you as if he'd just found God in your eyes.
"I know," he tried to protest, giving you a weak smile and threatening to pull his head away.
But he waited.
There'd never been anyone in the universe, on the planet, in the country, in the culinary industry, in this city, or in this restaurant who saw through you the way Carmen Berzatto did. He'd been your head chef even before what was then, The Beef. You followed him back to his home city even months after the two of you made a pact to quit your last job as his sous, and his as your head chef. There was nothing you wanted more than to see him chase his stardom.
You loved him. This you knew.
"You're better at what you do than you'll ever give yourself credit for."
This he knew. At least now he did.
You took him in again with one look. His little moles here and there, his blue eyes, the rose of his cheeks. And at a moments notice, you leaned down to kiss him like it was the last thing you'd ever do. Carmen rose without even letting your lips separate. His hand planted itself at your waist as the other held the back of your head and gently buried itself into your hair. He tasted like cigarettes and mint with a hint of that bitter and filmy residue left on pill capsules.
He loved you. This you knew.
"Maybe you should give yourself some credit, too."
This you knew.
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jeanbie · 4 months
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IF I LAY HERE (WOULD YOU LIE WITH ME?) ★ masterlist.
pairing: eren x reader
genre: best friends-to-lovers-au, actor au, fluff mostly | warnings: fem!reader | wc: 2.6k
note: hey. i still love u guys and i am still pining over aot. will never stop probably. anyway, this was an older fic i wrote but i'm handing it down to eren! title is taken/inspired from chasing cars by snow patrol (my fav song)
⏤ Eren has had enough - it's been four months since he's last seen you, and he's not going to let his fame status keep him from seeing you any longer. He just hopes that you feel the same way when you see him again.
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Eren was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that.
It was risky taking any step out of his apartment at any moment; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the bushes in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame. 
Granted, he’d expected it to be worse now that he'd booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Eren takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face.
For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the actor from Attack on Titan who didn’t give a damn about the people who essentially made him and his friends famous.
But Eren thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in a different country, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures.
You were at university now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally saw every day months before. It had been four months since Eren had seen his best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.
You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.
“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.”
Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses resting on the end of his roundish nose. He led Eren out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”
Eren smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”
Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Eren. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road waiting to cross, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”
That was three minutes ago, but Eren's still playing that sentence on a loop in his head. She's gonna freak out when she sees you.
He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. He’s missed it here, and how unbelievably, shockingly awful it all looks when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of it online.
“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Eren says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”
“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only really became a super fan three months ago. I'm more into Levi, you know how it goes. And yeah, I figured it out eventually. Finally, I understood why so many people at this uni wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”
Eren frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy online when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”
Frank shakes his head and grins at Eren as the words die out in his mouth.
“Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours…it’s kinda like family, you know?”
Eren feels his stomach flip, butterflies going haywire. These butterflies are bitter and relentlessly fast, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Eren is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister.
You’ve never been his sister, even when you became part of his family growing up on special occasions, or even just on a daily basis when you came to visit. There were times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different than that; you both knew it but never dared acknowledge it.
Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice and tall, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Eren remembers looks a lot like your dad’s back in the day. Might be the same kind, might be a vintage.
He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Eren, but then the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here - he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.
“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”
He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.”
He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were seventeen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep a secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left whereas Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.
Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the market, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Eren manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down.
As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person - white walls and a bed set that’s white and covered with little peonies. Above your desk, Eren recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at university who Eren always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his head against the wall your bed is attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.
Speaking of which; the song playing in the bathroom ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Eren hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race.
Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and… And, then what?
Maybe you wouldn't even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Eren was travelling the world with his other friends and film crew while you were still here, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Eren was burdensome to you. Worse - maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.
Eren's always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Eren feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be able to give you, even with all the money and the fame.
The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.
“Jesus, Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”
“No fun,” Eren teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause, and Eren cocks his head, his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him.
Suddenly, he hears small but quick thuds across the carpet and Eren feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling when you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.
The grin that reaches Eren's eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape at his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Eren absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Eren feels it in his stomach.
“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Eren rises up to a more comfortable position. “What the fuck!”
He laughs out loud, and when Eren wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly.
“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.
“Don’t care.”
He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck.
Eren smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow body wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds him of Cabbage Patch babies.
“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”
“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”
“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jet lag.”
That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jet lag, Eren realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming. 
Eren kisses behind your earlobe, and then just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Eren was always a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this.
You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Eren feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8.
Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop - it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid’s bow.
He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the dazed confusion on your face as he moves the hair from across your face to around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows.
“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.
“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but… Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”
“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean…the guys know I’m here. Jean drove me to the airport with Armin.”
“That’s not what I mean, though.”
Eren sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”
“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. It's only a few. Most are really nice!”
“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by--”
“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. You frown and try to change the subject, “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”
“I've been growing it out,” Eren replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”
“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”
“For you,” frowns Eren dramatically.
Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Eren's underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle.
The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Eren even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you, half as a joke, half not. That could be why Eren feels the way that he does, why the confusion wraps around his body and traps him.
Eren knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.
Eren knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. EREN YEAGER GOES TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND…BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT A.O.T EREN IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…
He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s why he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Eren might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, if all those years of confused relations and flirtations meant anything, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant being able to spend one more day with you.
Eren's got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to filming with more regrets than he came here with, and so for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth.
Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be said on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Eren doesn’t think it will be worth it.
Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. You hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease, then you didn’t mention it. He almost wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy being here.
Fuck.
For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it 'til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.
It has to be perfect, and until then, he’ll just have to be patient, even if it breaks his heart more by pretending.
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dyaz-stories · 6 months
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put your arms around me and i'm home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader
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summary: In the dead of winter, you have to do a run to go get fuel for your generator. Things go wrong, but fortunately, Hyun-Su is here to save you.
word count: 3.7k
warnings & tags: canon-typical violence, gore, monsters, hyun-su and reader get injured, reader briefly thinks hyun-su is dead, monster!hyun-su makes a brief appearance, hyun-su needs a hug and he gets one!, angst, hurt/comfort, season 2 canon compliant.
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A/N: this can be read on its own, but there is another one-shot, if you're interested! for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman.
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You’re not one to get caught off guard, not usually. You’ve always been cautious, measured, far-sighted. It had been an advantage back in high school, and you’re pretty sure it’s what kept you alive thus far.
Yet, in this new world that you never asked to be a part of, unforeseen complications were the norm. You could plan, and plan, and plan ahead, but here you were, freezing in your living room, because the biting cold of the lasting winter meant that you’d run out of fuel for your small generator, and everything else you used to generate electricity wasn’t functioning the way it should.
If you didn’t want to freeze to death, you had to act, and act quick.
You’d already held out a few more days than was reasonable, hoping that the weather would clear and your solar panels would be useful again, or — but you hadn’t dared to voice that thought — that Hyun-Su would come by, and you could ask for his help. He’d offered before, after all, even if he had always kept you at arm’s length whenever you’d returned the favor.
But things were dire now, and you couldn’t wait any longer, so you’re kneeling in your living-room, preparing yourself for a hazardous trip in the outside, shivering as you do. Things are dangerous enough on a good day, but the snow that’s been continuously falling only makes you dread it more. It swallows sounds, means you’ll leave tracks behind you, and you’ll consume twice as much energy just to move around.
The last thing you pack is a map, which you make sure to keep available, though you hope you won’t need it in between breaks.
You’re heading for a four-stories parking lot, where you hope you’ll find fuel in one of the cars, but that’s not the dangerous part. What’s risky is that monsters love these kinds of places, with all their nooks and crannies, all the dark places to hide, and fear already has your heart beating twice as fast as usual before you’ve even opened your door.
Still, you take a steadying breath, haul the backpack over on your shoulders, and exit the house without making a sound.
Everything is quiet outside. Snow is falling gently, and the sight would be heart-warming, if it wasn’t for all the overturned cars, the gaping hole torn into the building opposite from yours by one of those missiles a few months ago, and the worrying fresh footprints going towards the river. The snow also covers the decomposing bodies, and you can only hope that you don’t accidentally step on one as you start walking.
At least it fills your tracks behind you. By the time you’ve reached the other side of the street, which was one once an impossible task due to how bad traffic you used to be, nothing leads back to your door, and you leave with, at least, the reassurance that home will still be here waiting for you when you come back.
If you come back.
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There’s comfort in knowing that you’d planned well, this time, to get to the parking lot. You get to your destination with only expected complications. You spot the monsters before they spot you. You have to reroute twice, but that had been accounted for, and you don’t even have to pull out your map. You reach the building right before noon, and after surveying it for a few minutes, you let yourself in before you can chicken out.
In the dark, you make your way to the first floor, where you will be able to have the greyish light of the day, instead of having to use precious batteries for your flashlight.
It’s not long before you’ve picked out the car, a familial minivan with an untouched baby seat in the back. You try not to think about the people it belonged to as you kneel by the side and prepare to siphon the tank. You make quick work of preparing it, with the tanks and hoses you’d brought for that purpose.
Maybe it’s your confidence that’s to blame for what happens next, or maybe it’s another one of these unforeseeable accidents. Either way, you catch movement from the corner of your eye and you jerk your head back as a reflex, but you’re not fast enough and unnaturally long claws dig into your cheek.
You manage not to scream despite the pain, scramble back and away from the van. There, standing on the roof, is a creature. Though it stands on two legs, there is nothing human about it anymore. The side of its face are sagging and drooping like it’s centuries old, covering where you assume its shoulders would be. It brings its claws to its lips, and your realize with horror that your blood is dripping from them.
Bleeding, in this world, might as well be a death sentence. You don’t bother wasting energy in stopping the tears from spilling from your eyes.
“Younnnnng,” the monster screeches. “Give— meeeeee…”
It at least snaps you out of the stupor, and you grab your bat, unwilling to go down without a fight.
But it’s not much of a fight, not when the scent and the noise are waking up all the other creatures hibernating around here.
You swing wildly as the thing, and manage to send it tumbling back. It’s only a short respite though, considering pain is only ever short lived for them, while blood is dripping down your chin and onto the concrete.
You throw your backpack on your shoulders with trembling hands and grab the first cannister that you’ve filled, abandoning the rest behind to start sprinting towards the exit.
You already know you won’t make it. You know you’ll have to run through the pitch dark ground floor, which is no doubt filled with more of those nightmares, and that the chances you’ll make it out on the other side are slim to none.
But you owe it to yourself fight until the very end.
As it stands, you don’t even make it to the downward slope that leads there. There’s the sound of something charging towards you, and then the— the head, it has to be, of a bull-like thing catches you in the ribs, and sends you flying into a car. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, your vision goes blurry, your head starts reeling. You’re aware of the thing crashing into a concrete pillar. It at least stays there, struggling to pull itself out, but that’s barely any relief, because soon enough the first creature is calling out to you again, stretching out a skeletal arm towards you.
“Younnnnnng… Give meeeee…”
It kicks you in the ribs, and you roll onto your back, only to be met with the horrifying sight of its arm in the air, claws out and ready, preparing to cut your throat open.
You refuse to close your eyes.
And then, just as you think everything lost, someone steps in between you and the monster, blocking its arm with your very own baseball bat. You stare blankly at the large back, the unkept black hair, as the man forces it to step back and kicks it in the chest.
Then Hyun-Su turns around, and holds his hand out towards you.
He looks nothing like what you’re used to. He’s usually so lost, so hesitant, when he comes to you. Now he’s focused, purposeful, and in many ways, he reminds you of the boy you once knew, the captain of the football team who would without fail lead his team to victory.
“Let’s go,” he urges you, and when you weakly take his hand, he pulls you to your feet effortlessly.
You wheeze as the two of you run to hide behind a car. You press your free hand against your ribs, hoping to lessen the pain — it doesn’t work, of course.
“It’s going to find me,” you mumble to Hyun-Su as he keeps an eye on the thing. “It can— It can smell my blood.”
Hyun-Su’s head snaps towards you, and his expression darkens at the sight of the wound on your cheek. He lifts his hand halfway, as if to touch it, then lets it fall down again.
“You should—” Your voice breaks. “You should go. If it can find me… It’s not the only one.”
A strange expression that you can’t quite decipher passes on his face, before he shakes his head firmly.
“I’m not leaving you here.”
The relief you feel when he says those words is immediately overshadowed by embarrassment. You shouldn’t be happy. He needs to go, or he will die here with you, and what would the point be in that?
“What— What are you even doing here? How—”
You don’t know if he doesn’t answer on purpose, or if he hears a sound that takes his attention away from you.
“Can you run?” he asks you, glancing over the car.
Your body’s going to hurt like hell when the adrenaline wears out, but for now you give him a decided nod.
“Do you trust me?”
You should probably take your time to answer him, actually think about the question.
“Yes,” you answer instead, like it’s a reflex.
He exhales quietly, squeezes your hand in his.
“Then run.”
Then he’s pulling with him, running at full speed towards the open wall of the parking lot. Fear spikes through you. Even though you’re only on the first floor, it’s still too high to land comfortably. That fear is completely erased by the sight that greets you, briefly, of monsters stumbling and climbing all over each other to make their way up from the ground floor. There is a whole swarm of them teeming here already, and you can’t think of any other way to make it out alive — frankly, you have a hard time believing that this will work. But you cling to your faith in Hyun-Su like your life depends on it, because it does, and when he yells for you to jump, you do it without question.
While you’re flailing in the air, you feel him pulling you towards him. Strong arms wrap around you, and keep you caged and safe. You hit the ground brutally, rolling on the floor until you land on top of him.
“Fuck,” you mumble, painfully pushing you onto your elbows. “Hyun-Su, are— are you okay?”
The obvious answer to the question is ‘no’, and yet Hyun-Su doesn’t look worse for wear as he sits up, his eyes instead going over your body to make sure you weren’t too badly injured.
If you shiver when his hands run up and down your arms, it isn’t because of the cold.
“Let’s move,” he says, letting go of you all too quickly.
But, by the time you’re both on your feet, monsters attracted by the smell of your blood have started falling from the parking lot. The two of you sprint, but you’re no match for them and you know it. You regain the tiniest hope when you make it past a corner, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the snow will swallow your smell if you hide well enough — and then something wraps around your ankle.
In a second, you’re torn out of Hyun-Su’s grasp, and when you manage to roll onto your back to see who your assailant is, all you can do is let out an inhumane scream.
This particular monster has eight legs, like a spider, and its somewhat human torso  and head is completed by two long mandibles instead of a jaw. You manage to grab a knife from your pocket, but by the time you can cut its— web, you suppose, it’s charging towards you at full speed, and it’s close, too close for you to even get on your feet before—
When it attacks you, the first thing you see is what you first identify as a black wing, before you realize that it’s made out of a complex mix of flesh, bone and other materials that you can’t quite recognize, instead of feathers.
The wing pushes the creature back, and then Hyun-Su’s back is in front of you once more.
It’s his, you realize, brain awfully slow all of sudden. The wing. It’s attached to his shoulder, and all you can do is stare in confusion and horror. It flutters as he turns around to look at you.
You’re not fully in control when you scramble back, whole body shaking — because of the second near-death experience in ten minutes or because you’re terrified, you don’t know. What you do know is how hurt he looks, and how he turns his head the other way to face the monsters that are still coming after the two of you.
“You should run,” he says, low enough that you could miss it. He sounds hollow again. “Don’t turn around.”
You shake your head quietly, try to form some words. They all fail you. You don’t— you have no clue what’s happening. All that you know is that Hyun-Su is a monster and that he’s just used that to save your life.
The wave of monsters reach him just a few seconds later, before you’ve managed to decide anything. He pushes them back with practiced ease, one by one. You hate that you’re just sitting here, unable to move, as he fights for your life, yet your body just refuses to answer to you, even if you’re begging it to react.
Soon, the spider is the last one standing — or rather, the last one who hasn’t yet decided that you’d make a fairly meager lunch, considering how hard it is to get to you. It keeps attacking, and Hyun-Su keeps pushing it back, again, and again, until the creature manages to ensnare him in its web. Hyun-Su writhes, manages to pull his wing free, but it’s clear that he’s now at a disadvantage, and the mandibles click threateningly as the monster gets closer and closer to him.
Finally, your body agrees to react.
You run.
You don’t go very far though. You find the cannister you’d dropped and then you’re rushing back to throw the gasoline at the creature, half emptying it. The monster wasn’t paying attention to you, too busy trying to bite Hyun-Su’s head off, but its head snaps towards you when the liquid reaches it. It lets out a threatening hiss, which you ignore.
Instead, you find the lighter in your pocket.
Aim.
And throw.
The screams start right away, but it drops Hyun-Su, at least, as it tries to escape the fire.
For a second, you think you’ve made it — you’ve both made it, that is. Hyun-Su pulls himself to his feet. The wing flutters again, slowly starts to retreat back into his body to go back to a human arm.
He looks at you, expression unreadable.
And then one of the spider’s limb pierces through his chest. It’s not even calculated this time — just a movement it’s making as it tries to free itself from the flames that are consuming it.
You hear yourself scream. You don’t remember asking your body to move, this time, but you know that a second later you’re reaching Hyun-Su as he falls to his knees, and your arms are around him while you cradle him, pulling his head into your lap. Tears fall down your cheeks and onto his, as one of your hands tries, and fails, to apply pressure to the gaping wound, even if you know there is no point.
“No,” you beg. “No, no, no, no… Please, please, someone, please…”
You don’t know how many times you say it, how long you stay there. Snow starts to cover both his body and yours, and you realize you have a decision to make, if you don’t want to freeze to death. You just can’t bring yourself to do it.
Until Hyun-Su’s lifeless body arches in your arms with a gasp.
When his eyes open, they’re a clear, cold, uncanny blue.
You don’t dare to do anything then — not to let go of him, not to move away, not to break eye contact. It makes no sense, but you’re afraid that the slightest movement would have him gone again.
Slowly, his lips curve into a smirk, an expression you’ve never seen on him before. You’ve seen him smile, bright and sincere, and more recently, soft and subdued. But this amused, flirtatious smirk, that is completely new.
“You’re still here,” he comments, casually getting up, like nothing happen, like he can’t feel pain, like there isn’t a hole in his chest.
Even his voice is different. There’s a drawl to it, light and lazy, like he has all the time in the world.
“Hyun-Su?” you say, unsure of what’s happening. He was dead a minute ago. Then again, now that he’s breathing again, your brain is able to form the thought that he is a monster. An abnormal one, sure, and you don’t know enough to draw any conclusion, but it could be an explanation.
The smirk widens.
“Close enough,” he answers. “Are you scared?”
You’re not sure. You think you’re too emotionally exhausted to be scared.
“Should I be?” you ask. Maybe you shouldn’t trust this version of him to tell you the truth, and yet— All your senses are telling you that this is still Hyun-Su. And you don’t think he’d do anything to hurt you. Ever.
“It would break him if you got hurt,” not-Hyun-Su says, tilting his head. He lifts his index finger to tilt your head up. “I don’t want him broken.”
“Is he—” You interrupt yourself, unsure of what even is happening right now. But before you can start asking for answers, there is something you need to know. “Is Hyun-Su okay right now?”
He scoffs.
“He’s taking a break,” he replies. “He’s worked hard.” A beat while he seems to think about it. “Also, he thinks you hate him now.”
“I could never hate him,” you say, too easily, because it’s just the truth.
“Well, he is a monster,” not-Hyun-Su says with a shrug. He doesn’t seem to mean it as an insult, just stating a fact. You suppose he’s not wrong, and yet…
“The people I loved all turned into monsters,” you whisper quietly. Your mother, before you even made it home. Your best friend, who begged for death so she wouldn’t hurt others. Your father, who disappeared to protect you. You miss them all so much it sometimes feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest, and you’d give anything to have them back. So, if there is any way that you can still have Hyun-Su… “As long— as long as he’s not trying to kill me, does it really matter?”
The man watches you with interest, tilting his head to the side. It’s interesting. You haven’t been hurt by this world the way others have. Monsters caused death and destruction, but you watched half-monsters doing their very best to avoid hurting others, not unlike what Hyun-Su is doing right now.
The monster in him wonders what it would take, to destroy that ill-placed trust in others around you. The rest of him… is far too intrigued to give in. He grabs your chin between his thumb and his index finger, pulls your face closer to his.
“Doesn’t it?” he echoes your words. “What if I do hurt you?”
You swallow, call back the images of Hyun-Su easily taking out these monsters earlier. But you can’t forget that he’d been doing it to protect you.
“Y–You won’t,” you reply, even if your stutter betrays your lack of confidence.
It’s a leap of faith, but it seems to amuse him.
“For now,” he says, before his eyes roll into his head and Hyun-Su collapses in your arms.
You stumble back, barely manage to keep him up, before he seems to regain some control over his limbs and starts coughing. Even then, you don’t let go of him. You wrap both of your arms around him, head resting against his shoulder, and keep him there, against you.
Hyun-Su remains still for a while, breathing pained and ragged. The snow is still falling, but his body is warm.
“Are you okay?” he whispers with a hoarse voice.
“I am,” you answer. “Thanks to you.”
He lets out a pained sigh.
“Did he— Did he hurt you?”
You shake your head, barely moving away so you can look at him. He doesn’t look at you, keeps his eyes — black again, you note — fixedly in the other direction.
Like he can’t bear to know which emotion is on your face right now.
“I’m so happy you’re alive,” you say quietly. “I thought— I thought I’d lost you forever.”
Silence.
“Don’t leave me,” you beg, voice so low and broken you don’t think he’d hear if he wasn’t inches from you.
Hyun-Su’s body starts shaking against yours. Finally, finally, he wraps an arm around your waist, burying his head in your neck, and wet tears roll down your collarbone. In the freezing cold weather, they feel burning hot.
“Don’t hate me,” he begs in response, crying in your arms, fingers digging to the fabric of your clothes in a desperate attempt to keep you there, against him — even if there is no need for that right now.
You wish you could tell him that he just saved your life, that he’s been a guiding light in your cold, dark life this past few months, that you love him more than words can say. But that would take too long, and the situation calls for something shorter, more direct, and just as meaningful.
“You’re the only good thing about this world,” you say instead, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
Under the snow, for long minutes, Hyun-Su holds you like he never wants to let go.
When the two of you eventually detach from each other, he keeps your hand in his the whole walk home.
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i hope you liked this installment! i'm probably going to write something much softer next, still for this couple (but it's hyun-su so it's still going to be angsty). if you're enjoying this, please let me know your thoughts, reblog or send in an ask. hearing from readers is so motivating and makes me want to keep writing!
next part
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justporo · 6 months
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Headcanons for Astarion and Tav spending winter time
Aight, writing for the fluff challenge has me thinking about this a lot, so why not exploit it some more, eh? Some of these are/will be used in the drabbles plus more stuff. So, here we go:
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Does Astarion like winter? For sure not, this vampire is made for summer time, elegant summer clothing and also... a beautiful summer tunic on his partner is just so much more beautiful than all the winter clothes (and easier to take off, he has a point there)
You can convince him though that winter time has its perks because there's so much more cuddling and who really wants to get out of bed when it's that cold outside, right?
Astarion will however use every given opportunity to make a fashion statement - expect beautiful but dramatic, winter cloaks with fur, elegant gloves, winter tunics with beautiful embroidery (although he might enjoy just throwing on a sweater at home - especially if you had it stolen before and your scent still lingers on it)
Also winter festivities were mostly hurtful reminders this far, but now? With you by his side, he will enjoy them a lot more
Also: let's not forget that it may be cold outside but the nights are much longer and give you more opportunity to be out and about
He sneakily hangs up a mistletoe somewhere in your place and waits like a predator to assault you with kisses every time you catches you under it; "Astarion! This is the tenth time today! You know you can just ask me for a kiss, don't you?" "But darling, where would be the fun in simply asking? Isn't it so much more romantic when pure chance makes us meet here under the mistletoe time and again, my love?" "It's not chance when you keep lingering under it, Astarion!"
He enjoys decorations a lot more than he'd care to admit, he enjoys when your place smells of fresh pine from wreaths and other stuff you've put up and he likes the cosy atmosphere all the spread candles are creating for the two of you cuddling up while a snowstorm howls outside
Speaking of: expect Astarion to become the embodiment of a cuddly cat during winter time; he'll snuggle up with you under some blankets, in front of the fireplace, maybe with a nice book to read and a mug of mulled wine to enjoy
Astarion will also make sure you stay appropriately warm: no matter if he buys you a wooly sweater or makes you a nice coat himself; "My love, I'm cold enough for the two of us, you don't need to take on this quality of mine."
One more thing he absolutely loaths is: snow; he doesn't get it
Sadly you also can't change his mind by throwing snowballs at him - oh no! This will only cause him to show you that his rogue skills make for very good aiming and you'll soon both just be completely frozen; but it's worth it because you could swear you heard him laugh and see him smile despite him proclaiming this all childish
Once he figures you are very much into all of this, he puts some more effort into it - he wants to see you happy; every time Astarion goes into the city and walks across the winter market, he'll bring you something: maybe something sweet, maybe a small piece of decoration - you feel very appreciated, you just hope he paid for that stuff and didn't just steal it; Astarion is elusive on the matter
The most important thing for him though is that he gets to spend winter time together with you - with all the gifts and challenges it may bring
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @azukiel @darlingxdragon
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melminli · 4 months
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Vanilla Pudding II
pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader
summery - of course, coriolanus had his principles. but before he had them, he had you. he didn't want to lose that no matter what. you were his only exception in this game, and you would remain to be that.
word count: 1.3k
contains: district reader living in the capitol, fluff, slightly dark themes, coryo being a simp, flashbacks, fluff, possessiv behavior
a/n: well, i didn't really expect this to turn kinda darkish since the first chapter was so wholesome... but here we are. part 2 to blueberry tartlet!
part I
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Not everything was easier back then, but most things were. As a child, he didn't have to worry about his family's reputation. He hardly cared about his own since he was more concerned about what he had for dessert after dinner. Coriolanus was fine with just about anything most of the time, except for this pastrie with jam his grandmother used to make. He hated the taste of that. Well, he ate it anyway, but he would have been happier if it had been bread pudding instead. Coriolanus loved that shit.
He remembered once when he was a little kid and played alone on one of the swings at the playground outside. He thought of kindergarten as okay because he didn't like most of the kids there, and that still hadn't changed today. Most of them grew up to be idiots just as expected.
"Ya wanna have some puddin'?" You asked him, and this was the first real encounter he had with you. Back then, you still had your district accent, which Coriolanus had found very strange, but for whatever reason, you were still quite popular among the others. They liked you a lot.
He thought you were weird. "Is it bread pudding?"
You didn't seem to know for sure yourself as you looked into the container and thought for a few seconds. "No, just normal vanilla puddin'...sorry." you said in a whisper. "Ya can still have it if ya want? The other like chocolate puddin' more..."
Coriolanus watched your figure for a few seconds, and you didn't really dare to meet his starting gaze at first, so you looked to the side, slightly embarrassed. "I don't want it, but I'll take it." He finally said and held out his hand. It was better than nothing.
His answer brought a smile to your face. "My ma made it, I'm sure ya gonna like it!" You replied and happily placed it in his hand.
He didn't have a spoon. How am I supposed to eat this? He looked at his hands and considered it for a few seconds before shaking his head. No, I can't do that. "Why don't you eat it?" He asked you, suddenly noticing out of the corner of his eye how your braided hair was held in place by a bow. He thought it looked kind of cute on you. It suited you.
"I also like chocolate more." You admitted a little shyly and then realized yourself that he didn't have the necessary cutlery to eat the dessert. "Oh, I don't have a spoon with me. We can ask someone in the cafeteria, I'm sure they'll help us out!" Your voice exclaimed as you grabbed his hand and pulled him along without a care in the world.
He wished he could still see you with the same eyes he did back then. When it didn't matter who was called what, what clothes you wore, or just the fact that you could say what you thought without worrying about how it might sound.
But you weren't kids anymore. He was no longer clueless and all that stuff was important now. The only thing that hadn't changed from back then was that you were still a District girl, and that was one thing you would remain forever, no matter how long you lived in the Capitol.
"Are you okay, Coriolanus?" Rang your sweet voice suddenly in his ears, leaving him stirring only to be greeted with your figure in front of his table. Your eyes looked down at him with concern, and he only now realized that class was over. Most of the students had even left the classroom already. It seemed like he had been caught up in his thoughts for quite a while. "...yes, everything is fine. Don't worry about it, it's nothing." He said and packed up his bag.
You weren't entirely convinced but decided to let it go. Maybe he just hadn't slept well. He seemed to walk around with dark circles under his eyes a lot. "Oh, okay." You just said. You've been making a bit more of an effort to get in touch with your childhood friend lately. You didn't really know why, but somehow, along the way, you just seemed to stop being friends. It was only the other day at the graduation party of your elders that you realized how much you had actually missed him.
"So, I heard you're taking part in this year's Hunger Games." You broached the subject and saw him raise an eyebrow. You suddenly noticed how that may have sounded. "As a mentor, of course! Yeah, sorry if the way I just put it sounded a bit weird..." You apologized to him and mentally smacked yourself on the head.
He shook his hand. It was cute how nervous you suddenly acted around him. He liked that, liked that it was him who made you feel that way. "It's okay. As I said, don't worry about it." He replied and walked down the stairs with you after he was finished with his bag. "I'm afraid I couldn't find your name on the list. It's a real shame that you have to miss out on such a great opportunity."
You disagreed. "Well, I'm actually a bit relieved about that, if I'm being honest." You admitted, looking a little worried at the thought that you could have been in his place. "Yeah, I'm not really a big fan of the games. I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of sensitive to this type of stuff. Like, just seeing blood freaks me out, so I can't really..."
Coriolanus watched you struggle a bit trying to skate around the actual goal of the games. You didn't even seem to be able to say the word kill or dead. He'd bet you'd be the first to fall if you were a tribute. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at the thought. It's better that she isn't. She's not like those other animals. "Don't be absurd. It's completely valid that you feel that way, trust me." He assured you, bringing a slight smile back to your lips.
He stopped you briefly so he could hold your hand comfortingly. "We don't even have to talk about the games if you don't want to. How about this, I know this good ice cream place near the academy." He suggested charmingly. "Do you still like chocolate? I've heard that's their specialty."
You couldn't stop the broad smile that spread across your face at his words. "It still is, actually. let's go! My treat!" You said and pulled him along by his hand without a care in the world, and like then, he just let you do it.
"No way, I'll pay and there's nothing you can do about it."
You shook your head stubbornly. "I don't want you to do that, and you can't stop me."
He had decided then and there that he wasn't going to let himself get in the way of the only good thing that had ever happened to him in his usually so miserable life. And what if you were a District girl? Even if he could never change that, it would make no difference in the future.
After all, no one would dare question the decisions of the President of Panem - especially when it came to choosing his first lady. Coriolanus was sure that something could easily be arranged with those who still couldn't hold their tongues.
Before you could take another step, Coriolanus suddenly stopped behind you and almost let you fall to the ground had he not caught you. "And that's where you're wrong." He said, smiling as sweetly as a poisoned apple. "Because I can."
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