#brown hair blythe

[unniedolls]

Meet Toffee, my newest custom Blythe doll🍪🤎 Toffee has golden eyelids, cute hair, and a pretty bunny outfit. Toffee likes everything shiny and sweet. Her favorite season is winter, but she likes to be inside in coziness, not outside in the cold snow. 🧸Toffee is available with or without clothes, the starting price is €350+shipping cost https://unniedolls.com/b157/

[teenagediaryxoxo]

Help a girl out where do I buy this clothing style?<3

[sainzers]

ppl on tiktok can't seem to choose between buzz cut drew starkey and tom blyth. like i dont get it the right answer is clearly drew here, he's the og buzz cut antagonist what are y'all on about

[the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see]

im actually glad about all the coriolanus thirst edits bc i thought before that i'd never be into a blond man and now i know for sure

[serendipity-reborn]

literally me

[jewfrogs]

the hunger games has so many beautiful blond men to look at

[zannia]

If i don't get a new dollie soon i may become depressed

[livelikealucid]

[berzahoes]

moments | tom blyth

summary: moments with tom and you <3 oh, and keanu reeves is also there! (reeves!reader)

an: nepo baby reader my beloved 🫶🏼

ON SET OF BILLY THE KID

since your dad had a few weeks off, he decided to visit you and tom on the set of billy the kid, which was filming in canada. tom was nervous since this would be the first time your dad would see him act in person. you understood why since your dad was a big name in hollywood (and also named the nicest guy).

“he just texted, he’s here.” you told tom, who was in already in his billy the kid attire. you were hanging out in his trailer until he was called to set.

“is this really happening?” tom sighed. “keanu reeves is going to see me act . . . holy shit.”

“just pretend he’s not there or just relax. he loves you and he loves everything you’ve been in.” you stood up from the chair and walked over to him.

“apart from being a big actor, he’s your dad. what if he sees that i’m not good enough to be with you?”

“if he ever says anything like that, run. that’s not the real keanu reeves,” you replied and placed a kiss on his lips. “i’ll be right back, I’m going to go find him.”

“i have to be on set in two minutes. i’ll meet you guys over there.” tom said as you exited his trailer in search of your dad.

eventually, you found him talking to the stunt coordinator about, one of his favorite subjects, motorcycles.

“sorry to interrupt,” you apologized for cutting into their conversation.

“no worries, i better get going. it was really nice talking to you. thank you.” the stunt coordinator said as he walked away.

“tom said he’s going to meet us on set. they’re about to start filming.” you and your dad walked to where tom had told you to go.

“this is really nice. did you see that horse over there? beautiful horse. remember when you didn’t want to ride the horse on set of john wick?” keanu teased. you rolled your eyes playfully and kept walking to the set.

the scene tom would be filming was the opening scene of the whole show. your dad quickly made friends with the producers and director and sat by them when filming began. you watch your boyfriend get into character and deliver his lines perfectly. you didn’t know what it was, but you loved seeing him as billy the kid.

“cut! that was great, tom! we got it!” the director shouted. immediately your dad started applauding as loud as he could.

then tom joined you and your dad. “tom, that was amazing. you did an incredible job.” your dad complimented him.

“thank you, sir. it means a lot that you’re here.” tom replied. he still couldn’t believe keanu freaking reeves watched him act. you two have been together for quite a while so he didn’t have to be so nervous around your dad. but he was and hearing keanu say such kind words to him calmed him down.

“dad was talking about the horse.” you said, pointing to the horse that tom called his.

before you knew it, both of your guys were walking in the direction of the horse.

LUNCH WITH THE FAMILY

it was a nice day out in new york city. before you dad started filming for his new movie, he wanted to have lunch with you, tom and his partner, alexandra. he picked out where you would have lunch and texted you the address. it wasn’t that far from tom’s apartment so you decided to walk.

“what do you think your dad is going to say about this?” tom asked, referring to his recently bleached blonde hair.

“i think he’ll like it. i like it, but i do miss the brown hair.” you admitted. soon enough, you made it to the restaurant. your dad had gotten an outside table so you easily spotted him and alexandra waiting for you and tom.

tom had a hat on so your had hadn’t noticed the blonde hair until tom took it off. alexandra gasped as keanu chuckled. “you look great, man.” he brought tom in for a hug.

“you do look great, tom.” alexandra agreed and stood up from her chair to greet you and tom.

“hi, sweetheart,” keanu said as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. “when are you going blonde?”

“never. i think the only time i ever dyed my hair was when i had a mental breakdown during seventh grade and dyed my hair red.” you said as you sat next to tom.

“she had me up at two am helping her rinse because she didn’t want to get dye on her fingers.” keanu continued.

“you had red hair? i need to see that.” tom chuckled.

eventually the paparazzi found you and they kept some distance, but they still annoyed you. you four took the opportunity to mess with them and posed with peace signs or funny faces. it reminded you of the times when you did the exact same thing years ago with your dad. whenever he took you out to eat, the paparazzi would arrive seconds later taking pictures of you two. keanu suggested making faces at the camera so you did just that. now, you were doing the same thing but with your boyfriend, dad and stepmom.

KEANU REEVES, PROFESSIONAL THIRD WHEEL

“how’s the family?” stephen colbert asked. you dad was a guest and his show and he loved any chance he had to talk about you.

“family is doing really great, thanks for asking. i’ve spending a lot of time with my daughter. her and i are doing lots of activities like pottery, she loves pottery.” he explained.

“that’s great. and do you two always hang out when you’re not busy?” stephen asked.

“yeah, she sometimes has her friends over and i call her and ask if i could come over and then i take her friends and her to dinner or bowling.” he laughed as he remembered all the times he took your friends out so he could also spend time with you.

“i don’t know if you’re aware of this, but twitter has actually named you the professional third wheel because of these photos.” stephen showed keanu and the audience some paparazzi photos of you and tom walking hand in hand down the streets of new york and to the side was your dad with an ice cream cone in his hand.

“oh man, i mean it was going to happen,” keanu said. you and your dad actually had an agreement about what stuff he could share about when it came to being asked about you in interviews. “tom is a great guy, he’s the best.it looks like they’re annoyed with me, but I promise they’re not.” he laughed as another picture was shown of tom talking to him, but he was still holding your hand. whatever it was that tom and your dad were talking about, it seemed really interesting since they weren’t paying attention to you at all.

“oh no,” keanu hid his face in embarrassment. “she looks mad at me, i hope she wasn’t mad.”

“this is my favorite one yet.” stephen added as another picture came on screen.

the picture showed you on your phone walking while your dad and tom walked behind laughing hysterically at something that someone had said.

“are you sure i’m the third wheel?” keanu joked as the audience laughed.

“is tom blyth single?”

the cast of the ballad of songbirds and snakes were doing the wired autocomplete interview and it was tom’s turn to answer questions.

“i am not. i have a beautiful, lovely wonderful girlfriend.” he answered with a smile.

“and his name is keanu reeves!” rachel added followed by josh laughing.

“the pictures don’t lie, tom!”

[nimaanila]

Slow Down, Cowboy (Part 1)

Pairing: Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth) x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None. This will probably be the first part of a three or four part series. Establishing the pairing. More fluff to come!

Synopsis: Reader is a server/bar keeper at the local saloon. Billy and the guys come for a drink after a long day of horse stealing and cattle rustling. It doesn’t take much for Billy and reader to take an interest in each other.

A/N: So, no surprise I’m on the Tom Blyth train after watching TBOSAS. I needed more so naturally I watched Season 1 of Billy the Kid and let me tell you, I was not disappointed. He is SO FINE in this series!! Kicking my feet and twirling my hair fr. Also a very good series!! Please watch if you love Tom and love a good story. This was born out of disappointment from the lack of writing on Tom’s Billy on this app as well as a craving for more Tom 😅 Enjoy!!

Part 2: Here

Part 1: A Sight for Sore Eyes

The saloon was already hustlin’ and bustlin’ on a Friday evening. The cacophony of chatter, laughter, and glasses clinking, only to be amplified by the 5 or so pairs of cowboy boots you heard stomping into the saloon, accompanied by the incessant ringing of the bell above the entryway door. The scuffed boots belonged to a group of rowdy cowboys coming in for a drink, or three, after a long day of horse thievin’ and cattle rustlin’, no doubt. You eyed up each one of them, noting their greasy hair underneath tattered hats, dirt caked around and under their fingernails, and revolvers strapped to their hips for easy access. You had been around town long enough to know that these guys were up to no good during the day, but that was none of your business. A paying customer was a paying customer, no matter how they got their money.

You carried on serving customers who were already at the bar until you heard the bell above the door ring again, signaling the entrance of another patron. Normally you wouldn’t give that sound a second thought, but something compelled you to glance up in the direction of the noise.

The saloon was small, so there wasn’t much distance between you, working behind the counter, and the door. You were surprised to be met with striking blue eyes underneath curly brown hair and a dark brown top hat. He was tall. Lean. Young. Very handsome. You had not seen him before… at least not in person. Wanted posters with his face and a handsome reward for his capture were plastered all over every county east and west of Lincoln. None other than the infamous Billy the Kid had just stepped through your saloon doors, reputation preceding miles before him.

Despite what you had heard about him, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on him as you memorized his appearance. You noticed his eyes sparkle as they met yours. Perhaps it was from the lights hanging overhead, you thought. He stopped as the door slammed to a close behind him. Without breaking eye contact, he removed his hat and held it to his chest, giving you a polite nod and a slight smile, acknowledging your innocent exchange. He then wandered off to find the loud group of men that had entered the saloon moments before him.

So, Billy the Kid was riding around town with these guys. You knew to keep your distance from guys like that in your personal life, but at work, money was money. The group of guys came up to the bar, eyeing you up and down before placing their drink orders. They weren’t original; Whistles and cat calls accompanied by orders for straight vodka or whiskey for the lot. You handed out drinks with a smile, graciously accepting their tips. Then, they were on their way, hootin’ and hollerin’ over to a table in the corner to drink until they got dizzy, celebrating their accomplishments of the day. All that was left behind was Billy.

“How can I help you today, sir?” You asked him, quickly realizing he was a man of few words. He had not made a single comment like his buddies had when they approached the counter.

Billy had put his hat back on shortly after entering the saloon, but he took it off again as soon as you addressed him, making eye contact. A sign of respect.

“Hi there. Whiskey, please.” His slight southern drawl was charming, you had to admit. But it seemed newly acquired. He wasn’t from here originally. You didn’t know much about him aside from the daily town gossip, but something told you he was different. Misunderstood, maybe.

You nodded your head and smiled. “One whiskey, comin’ right up.” You set a glass down in front of him and poured the amber liquid into it. He picked the glass up and drank it down in one gulp. Must have been a hard day, you thought to yourself.

He tapped the rim of the glass with his index finger a couple of times before meeting your gaze again. “Another, please, ma’am,” he asked softly. You obliged and poured him another. This time he decided to sip instead of down it in under three seconds.

“You got it. Holler if you need anythin’ else. Okay, darlin’?” He nodded and dropped his gaze down to the glass in front of him. Perhaps it was the warmth of the alcohol, but you could have sworn you saw a blush creep up on his cheeks. You smiled to yourself once your back was turned.

The night went on as you carried on taking care of the patrons at your bar, drinking themselves to sleep or until their buddies helped them stumble home. You and Billy stole glances and sweet smiles throughout the whole night. Eventually, the saloon cleared out leaving only you and Billy, who had joined his friends at their table shortly after getting his third whiskey from you. As you were wiping down the bar counter and cleaning glasses to start closing up, you watched Billy talk to his group of cowboys. They seemed to be egging him on to do something, but he kept shaking his head and laughing, declining politely. Eventually they got the message, clapping him on the shoulder and exiting the saloon, claiming they would see him back at camp.

You kept your head down as you continued to polish glasses and silverware, ears perking up at the sound of his boots scraping the hardwood floor in your direction. Billy gently set the glass on the counter in front of you with a thud before resting his elbows on it, leaning in your direction. You looked up at him through your lashes. “Not headin’ out with your buddies?”

Billy shook his head, noticing your clean nails and the absence of a wedding ring. “No, ma’am. I don’t partake in their late night activities,” Billy told you in a soft voice. You wondered what activity he was referring to. It could be one of two things: drinking, or women. Since they already had the drinking part taken care of, there was only one other thing it could be. You weren’t sure why, but learning this about him made you feel happy. Relieved, almost.

You placed the glass you were cleaning back on the shelf underneath the bar and threw the rag you were using over your shoulder. With a hand on your hip, you asked, “well, in that case, is there anything else I can get you this evening, cowboy? We are closing right about now.” You waited for him to answer, taking the opportunity to appreciate how well his plaid dress shirt fit him, the top two buttons now open to reveal a new patch of skin you had not seen upon his arrival. You pulled your eyes away when you realized you had been staring a second too long.

“No more drinks for me, ma’am. Thank you, though. There was one other thing I was hoping to get from you, if you don’t mind me asking.” You leaned forward yourself, really meeting his eyes this time. With him leaning across the bar like that, he was the closest he had been all night. The bright blue of his eyes couldn’t even get lost in the dim light of the saloon. You hated how your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close you two actually were.

You cleared your throat and took a second to steady yourself before asking with a playful smile on your lips, “and what might that be?” Billy smiled in return, dropping his eyes to his hands before returning them to you again. “I was hoping I might learn the name of the beautiful woman serving me drinks tonight. So I know who to ask for when I come back tomorrow.” There it was, that smile again, that threatened to leave you speechless. Honestly, you were pleasantly surprised by his manners, especially for a man so young and to be riding around with gunslingers all day. You had heard he was dangerous, but you seemed to have forgotten that. Although you were nervous to be alone with him, you also felt safe. Safe enough to share your name with him.

“Y/N,” you told him with a smile and a nod. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, miss Y/N. My name is William but folks call me Billy. I sure do hope I’ll be seein’ you again real soon.” His voice was smooth, like it was dripping in honey. His charm was effortless and completely disarmed you. Those goddamn cowboys.

“Well, I’m here pretty much 24/7 so, drop in whenever you like. Now I know who to look out for.” You smiled at him again, holding his gaze for a second. He nodded and made his way to the door, stopping to turn around and look at you one last time before exiting the saloon. He tipped his hat to you as he said, “you sure are a sight for sore eyes. You have a good night now,” and was whisked away by the evening breeze.

You stared at the door where he stood just moments before, simultaneously smiling to yourself like an idiot and cursing yourself for being so smitten by a cowboy upon the first interaction. He left you breathless and with only one thought:

In a world of boys he’s a gentleman.

[disneyprincemuke]

best years * fem!driver

growing up in a predominantly male environment, she only ever had two friends she could count on. this is what it was like growing up with oscar and logan.

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: this was so hard to write for no reason

(series masterlist) | (📂 pre-formula 1)

2013

she leans against the wall behind her, fingers nervously picking at the skin around her nails. she’s the only girl in yet another karting race.

around her are countless boys excitedly greeting their friends, some of whom they have not seen in months from the long break. they would only spare her a quick glance before forming their own circles and talking amongst themselves.

she simply sighs and fishes for her phone in her back pocket. she will just pretend to text blythe, who is all the way back home, hours from where she is.

sure, she had plenty of girl friends from karting when she was growing up. but amidst puberty and coming into their own, her friends had simply moved on to other hobbies and interests — one that didn’t involve pouring your heart and soul onto the race track.

so there she stands, all by herself in the corner.

she feels a presence next to her, prompting her to lift her head. there stands a boy with sandy brown hair and his arms folded over his chest. who she will come to later know as oscar. but not just yet.

beside him is another boy, bright blue eyes with dirty blonde hair. they’re engaged in a conversation, paying no mind to the girl sending several messages to her younger sister without a response.

“okay, gather up, please!”

she would wind up making it into the top 30 that race.

“hey, you made it into top 30!” her mother engulfs her in a tight hug and sways side by side. “i’m so proud of you! you did so well!”

“thank you,” she giggles, pulling back slightly to catch some air. her hand reaches around the older woman’s body to wipe the sweat from her top lip. “are we still getting pizza after this?”

her father laughs, throwing his head back. “you never forget a promise, kid.”

“of course!” she cheers, jumping up as she claps her hands. “can i get a hawaiian pizza?”

“absolutely,” her mother beams, squeezing her on the chin followed by another hug.

she sighs and throws her head back, appreciating the sun that barely burns her skin. she scratches her head and gathers up her hair to pull it into a ponytail.

looking around, she locks eyes with somebody — the same boy from earlier with the sandy brown hair. he’s got the most charming smile, sending it her way along with a thumbs up.

blood rushes to her cheeks as she returns him a thumbs up and a courteous nod.

then he turns away, whisked away by his parents.

2014

“you’re only saying that cause i beat you on the track again,” she answers nonchalantly with an eyeroll. she folds her arms over her chest, scanning the boy head to toe. “it’s okay to lose to girls sometimes. it’s rare, i know, yet here i am.”

“an absolute fluke,” the boy scoffs at her, cheeks red in frustration and fists clenched by his side. “my dad says there’s no space for girls on the racetrack.”

“oh, really? say that to my top 10 finish and you barely making the cut,” she spits, anger lacing every word. “loser.”

his jaw drops. “hey, take that back!”

“bite me,” she grins, “you loser.”

his arm is barely able to land a hit on her shoulder when he stumbles back, a bigger figure blocking her from the frustrated kid. she barely flinched, now shocked at the something that separated her from a minor injury.

“hey, piss off, will you?”

“whatever, dude.”

her saving grace turns around, a small welcoming smile on his face. it’s someone she recognises — slowly becoming a familiar face for her every time she’s on for a karting race. “are you alright?”

she huffs, her fists now clenched by her side. “i had that covered. i didn’t need your help.”

he gives her a tired stare, obviously not biting into her words to be edged towards an apology. he just smiles again. “i know, but i thought i’d end it before a fight happened.”

“what if that’s exactly what i wanted?” she asks, an eyebrow raised as her hands rests on her hips. “you don’t know that.”

“don’t bother,” he chuckles, glancing at the ground before lifting his head to look at her again. “‘grats on the top 10 finish today.”

she narrows her eyes down. “thank you.”

“oscar, by the way,” he says again, hand stretched out toward her.

“(y/n),” she nods at him with a forced smile. she drops both of their hands. “you’re tough to race, oscar. sometimes i just wanna crash into you with my kart.”

“i get that a lot, thank you,” he grins. he points behind her, prompting her to turn around. “the blonde over there’s my friend. that’s logan.”

she nods. “i’ve seen you guys together a couple of times.”

“we go to school together.” oscar pauses. “hey, logan! come over here!”

the blonde, logan, whirls around and jogs over to them without a question. he approaches them with a grin. “oh, hey! you’re the one that passed me earlier! you’re quick.”

“thank you, i like making boys cry.”

“i never said you made me cry.”

“you may as well have.”

“maybe next race if you can do it again.”

“oh, i’ll bet on that!” she grins, giving him a knowing stare.

logan smiles down at her. “we’re going to get pizza after this. do you want to join oscar and i?”

and the rest is history, as they say.

2015

"get off your homework, man," she groans, dragging her feet to where oscar sits on her table. she shakes the boy lightly, but not enough to mess up what he's writing, and pops her head to his side. "i'm itching to go get ice cream."

"let me finish my homework. my mum will kill me," oscar sighs, attempting to wave off the girl from him. "give me like 15 more minutes."

"you said that 1 hour ago," logan says, words muffled by the pillow he's got his face smushed up against. "i'm hungry, dude."

a knock lands on the door before it creaks open, turning the heads of two of three people who rest in her bedroom.

"dalton, dude!" logan grins, patting the empty spot on the bed next to him. "you're home! how was school?"

"i learned math today," the young boy excitedly answers, running over to the american with a giddy grin on his face. he jumps onto the bed, only to be promptly pulled away by his older sister.

"i told you to learn how to knock, dalton," she says in a tired voice. "and take off your shoes before coming into my room. remember?"

dalton looks up at her, wide eyes and lips parted as he tries to remember her words. he nods, bending down to tear off the velcro from his shoes. "i'm sorry, (y/n)."

"that's okay," she smiles, patting his head. "just don't do it again, okay?"

he nods, before hurriedly jumping onto the bed. this time, logan has the blankets up before engulfing the small kid under it with a bear hug. "what kind of math did you learn today?"

"addition," dalton mutters. he turns to look at oscar, who has yet to acknowledge his presence. "oscar."

"hi, dalton," he mutters, head resting in his palm as he focuses on the paper in front of him. "give me a minute, kid. i'll talk to you later, okay?"

"not okay," dalton huffs, arms folded over his chest. he leans into logan's knees and drops his head on the mattress. "i'm hungry, (y/n)."

she grins. "we've got to wait for oscar to finish his homework before we can go get food."

oscar sighs. he drops his pen on the table, turning around to face the room. "i guess i can take a break."

he gives her a knowing grin, rolling his eyes when she proudly smiles at him. he's always had a soft spot for dalton, the small boy filling up the sibling-shaped hole in his heart. "what do you feel like having, kid? ice cream?"

the young boy jumps on logan, prompting the loudest yelp to pass his lips. his arms wrap around dalton as they roll off the bed. logan launches him in the air and catches him immediately, a loud giggle bouncing off the walls of the girl's bedroom.

"i want spaghetti!" dalton cheers. "but you have to make it for us, oscar!"

oscar sighs again. he drops his head. "okay, i'll make some spaghetti."

2016

"happy birthday, (y/n)!" the door swings open, hitting the wall with a thud.

immediately, the girl shoots up from her bed, hair a mess with both of her eyes still closed. "man, what the fuck!"

she rubs her eyes, only to be met by the smug grins of her friends as they saunter into her bedroom with cake in logan's hands and two wrapped boxes in oscar's.

"we said happy birthday," logan says through gritted teeth, "say thank you."

"what time is it?" she groans, pulling the blanket up to her stomach. "isn't it a little too early for you to be terrorising me?"

"1pm is not early," oscar shakes his head in disappointment. "i texted you to be ready by 1! we're catching a movie, remember? we're supposed to go catch mockingjay in theatres."

she frowns. "i'm sorry. i went out with my girls last night," she explains, slowly moving to the edge of her bed. "i can be ready in 15 minutes."

logan holds the cake to her face. "enough yapping. the candle's about 5 seconds from merging with the cake i spent so hard to find," he sighs. "make a wish, scrub."

she looks up at them, daggers thrown just through her glare. she blows out the flame as her two friends cheer softly for her, oscar clapping before patting her shoulder. "okay, let's go catch our movie."

she holds her hands out to the boxes in his hands. "presents first."

2017

"hey, where are you?" oscar's face fills up her phone screen, eyebrows furrowed as he navigates the crowd in the mall. "are you not coming early for the race?"

she bites down on her lip and looks down, briefly avoiding oscar's stare. "i'll still be coming. just not so soon."

"what?" oscar's voice squeaks in disbelief, truly not believing what he's hearing from his friend. "but we always get ice cream before the race. why didn't you tell us you were ditching?"

"it was last minute, i'm sorry," she frowns, glancing at the boy standing next to her. "i'll just see you guys there."

oscar's face immediately drops. "oh, you're with your boyfriend?"

she rolls her eyes. "yes, but i'll still be there for the race. what's the big deal?"

oscar shrugs. "nothing, mate. i'll just see you on the track, (y/n)."

"hey, what is your problem?" she calls out, head tilting at his sudden coldness. "i've got other people to be with besides you and logan, you know. i have other friends too."

"friends, maybe i understand. but this guy?" he chuckles, rubbing his chin as he tries to sympathise with her. he really tries, but it's difficult when the older boy has made his best friend's life miserable in the past 3 months and she's done is defend him.

"mate, come on. be serious. he won't stick around forever - he's a guy."

"you're a guy."

"and i've never ditched you for a girl, have i?"

"i'd understand if you did."

"well, i'm not flakey," oscar spits at her, glaring at her through the camera on his phone. "i'll see you later."

his face disappears, the home screen of her phone now the only thing staring at her with the silence in her living room. she sighs and drops her phone onto the couch next to her.

"you alright, babe?"

she nods weakly, but her heart races in her chest. she's always been very headstrong and stubborn with oscar, but this was the first time he's ever shown a sign of frustration with her.

as deadpan as he usually is, her chest weighs down on the implication this young relationship could have on a friendship that's been going on for years.

"yeah, i'm fine."

"it sucks, i know," logan sighs, patting her head. he's leaned back against the wall, sitting up as she cried into his chest. "we're only 16 - this won't be the last guy you'll be with."

this only made the girl cry harder into his chest. truthfully, he's got no idea what to do. comforting crying people has never been his forte; being more on the sensitive end himself.

"i'll beat him up, though, if you'd like," logan offers lightheartedly. this is progress, at least, cause it made her giggle for a second before she resumed her sobs. "i can take him in a fight."

"don't do that," she laughs through her tears, "yet."

"i'll even take oscar with me."

"no... oscar's mad at me."

"he's not mad at you, (y/n)."

"but i told you that fucker was no good," an australian accent falls upon the room, making her lift her tear-stained face up to look at him. "i hate to be the one to say that to you."

"fuck off," she sobs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "i already feel like shit."

oscar nods, but he does sit on her other side. sandwiched by the two guys, oscar just fishes for something from his bag. presented to them, three separate pints of ice cream with spoons.

she smiles, passing down the other pint to logan. but she doesn't say anything to the australian who's already opened up his share and has started eating.

she just presses her back to the wall behind her and looks ahead. she digs her spoon into the dessert. "i saw logan with a girl in the hallway the other day."

"hey, what the hell!"

2018

she holds up her phone, grinning to herself as she takes a video. she runs over to the boy zipping up his race suit. "oh, my god! it's logan sargeant, sir! can i have a couple seconds of your time for an interview?"

"(y/n), you made it!" he laughs, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl. "oscar should be around here somewhere."

"i wouldn't miss your first race, of course," she states matter-of-factly with an eye roll. she squeezes his side and leans in as he presses his lips to her cheek. she puts her phone into her pocket. "i'm always your biggest fan."

"you're the president of my fan club, right?" his eyes light up, teasing her as he rests his arm on her shoulder. "i wouldn't accept my fan club if it wasn't you running it."

she shrugs. "maybe, but i'm gonna need you to set me up on a date with max fewtrell."

"i thought you wanted to go out with charles leclerc?"

"he's got a girlfriend."

"i think max has got a girlfriend too," logan chuckles, simply amused by her presence. "tough luck, dude."

"man, i might just die an old maid," she drops her head with a frown.

"oi, what are you doing? the race is about to start," oscar scolds, hands held out as he scolds his friends. he looks at her, eyeing her up and down once more. "you're not dressed yet! it's your first race in a car. let's go, mate!"

"i didn't wanna seem so excited," she shrugs, "i don't know."

"well, there won't be a race if you're not dressed in your race suit, idiot," oscar scolds, pushing her towards the further end of the garages. "come on, i have to beat you again today. my race won't be complete if i don't."

"absolute bitch," she mutters, glaring at the two boys as she walks away. "i'll see you guys on the track - remember to look in your rearview mirror for me."

2019

the three sit in a circle, on her carpeted floor once more. "i'm sorry you didn't get a seat in f3, (y/n)," logan sighs, dropping his head in disappointment. "i can't believe it."

"it's okay." she leans back on her bed and sighs, dropping her head as well. she lifts it up again with a forced smile. "i'll watch you guys all the time, i swear. i'll be your biggest fan."

oscar shakes his head. "you'll get a seat. the season hasn't started yet - someone will pick you up."

she frowns, putting her hand on oscar's knee. "it's okay, oscar," she says softly.

how touching is it to have friends who care about your progression in a sport where you're meant to be selfish?

"you deserve a seat more than anyone i know," he sighs, pulling his legs up into his chest. he rests his chin on his knee. "it's not fair. they're overlooking you. you're so good on the track."

"not better than you, though," she jokes.

he looks at her from the side of his eye. his disappointment never leaves, "you could wind up being better than me. come on."

"there's not a lot of space for girls like me in a sport like this," she smiles slightly, squeezing his knee. "it's okay. i'll be at every single race cheering for both of you. i promise."

oscar furrows his eyebrows, still shaking his head. he's got 3 sisters - he'd be bummed if they were to pour their heart and soul into something and not have the same opportunities.

if he could, he'd simply flip the world upside down.

"don't give up, okay?" he moves his head, now cheek on his chin as he looks at the girl with hopeful eyes. "promise me - you'll be in an f1 car someday with us on tv. racing it out in the pinnacle of motorsport."

"obviously," she grins. "i won't ever let logan beat me."

"now, this is why you didn't get a seat, dude," logan jokes, exchanging a smack on the knee with the girl. "fix your attitude."

"i bet you're glad that i didn't get a seat - i'd beat you over and over in an f3 track."

"you'd have to get a seat to prove that, (y/n)."

2020

"i got you the seat!" oscar jumps onto her bed, grinning ear to ear. he squeezes the girl on her laptop, her head craned slightly to look at him. "you're going to be in formula 3!"

"what did you say?"

"you're going to be racing in formula 3 for the 2020 season, you idiot!" he screams, taking the laptop from her thighs. he closes it gently and puts it down on the ground. "dude, catch up faster!"

her eyes widen as the gears in her head slowly process what the australian has just bestowed upon her ears. her nose scrunched as a piercing scream slowly erupts from her mouth.

she stands on her knees on her bed, holding oscar's arms. "if this is a prank, i'm going to turn you into pastry!"

"it's not, i got you the seat in formula 3!" he screams, shaking her vigorously, jumping on her bed. "dude, you're a step closer to formula 1! i told you to never give up!"

"what do you mean, i never stopped racing!" she says amidst her screams, shaking oscar back as the adrenaline starts to pump through her veins. "i cannot believe it! i'm going to be in a formula 3 car!"

"yeah!" oscar jumps off his bed. "come on, let's go get drinks with logan! he's coming over with a couple of beers!"

she hops off the bed, her body going into his. they stumble back a couple of steps, oscar's back hitting the door with a thud. "dude, we can't just celebrate with a couple of beers. let's go to the club!" she shrieks, smacking his chest.

oscar tilts his head, lips pressed together. "are you sure? you're kind of uncontrollable in the club..."

"yeah, but i have the right to be tonight!" she rolls her eyes, "i just got promoted to formula 3!"

2021

"this formula 2 crap is easy," she mutters, taking her helmet off her head. she trudges towards the two in the red race suits, her balaclava also flinging off her head. "come on, oscar."

"oh, shut up," oscar laughs, wrapping an arm around her. "good job beating me for the first time."

"i made it my life's mission, actually," she whispers, dropping her head. she smiles, throwing her head back to look up at her two friends. "god, this feels amazing!"

"oh, i owe you 50, don't i?" logan frowns at oscar, hands on his hips. "i can't believe she beat you before the season ended. you growin' soft, piastri?"

"i just thought i should let her have one glimpse at beating me before i proceed to do it the rest of our lives," oscar snorts with a smug grin as he looks down at her. "feel it while you can, (y/n)."

she frowns up at him. "i'll beat you for real someday, pastry. i've done it once today, and i'll do it again."

he nods with a proud smile. "don't let that fire go out, dude."

2022

"oh, hold the front door!" she screams into the phone, turning around to smack oscar's shoulder. oscar, who was sitting quietly on her dining table, eating the spaghetti he's prepared for her household. "are you joking, mate?"

logan tilts his head at oscar, only receiving a similarly confused shrug from the australian boy. they both glance at her, confused, at her sudden scream amidst their dinner debrief after having not seen each other for a couple of weeks.

"there's no way! sebastian vettel said that about me?" she screams, smacking oscar's shoulder again.

"oh, you're kidding!" oscar grunts, smacking her hand from his shoulder. she doesn't react towards him, just jumps away to her living room with the phone still on her ear.

"you reckon she's scored a dinner with sebastian vettel with that reaction?" logan teases softly, pointing at the girl rambling away on the phone. "i've got my money on that."

oscar shakes his head. "maybe lewis hamilton through sebastian vettel."

they hear her heavy footsteps approaching the dining area. she simply drops her phone to the smaller table next to her, coming in slightly paler than they'd last seen of her a few seconds prior.

her lips slowly creep and spread into a grin. "i've been promoted to formula 1," she says breathily, her hand coming up to rest on the door frame behind her. she takes another deep breath. "sebastian's going to be race engineer in the 2023 season."

and all hell broke loose in the dining area that night.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology

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are you taking requests? saw you're multi so i thought id send anyway but its so random,

estabished lando x reader on race day and tom blyth is on the paddock for silverstone and reader gets excited bc she loved him on tbosas and lando gets jealous?

Jealous Jealous

Side note: I've never written on tumbler before. Only Wattpad, so don't judge if this is bad.

Also, I added she is Max's sister because I like reading and writing siter brother bonds.

There’s probably spelling errors and grammar mistakes, but I wrote this in a night.

Lando 24, reader 22. (Dating 1 year but not discussed) Masterlist

When Lando met Y/n, he knew she was a fan of the Hunger Games movies. She loved them a lot. She had read all the books. Everything.

So when the new one came out Lando took her to see it even if he had never really seen one of the previous movies.

Let's just say y/n was hooked onto the main guy who played Coriolanus.

It was something Lando didn't really know about. But he thought nothing of it as it was highly unlikely that they would See this Tom Blyth fellow at a race.

Five months after the movie was released, Lando had completely forgotten about his girlfriend's crush.

It was race day at the Silverstone track. Lando and y/n walked into the paddock hand and hand, smiling at the fans that where there.

Y/n gasped and stoped suddenly. Lando frowned confused on why you girlfriend stoped.

"What's wrong?" He frowned and followed her eye sight to see a man in dark jeans and a dark shirt. Shaggy brown hair. "Who's that?" He asked slightly jealous at the way his girlfriend was looking at the man.

Y/n slapped him on the arm lightly, not looking away from Tom. "That's Tom Blyth. The guy who played Coriolanus Snow in the new hunger games movie." She explained to him. Gushing over him.

"Ahha." He made a face of recolonisation. When they watched the new movie y/n was obsessed with Coriolanus Snow and gushed about how Tom was a good actor to play him.

"I'm going to say hi." She spoke suddenly kissing his cheek and sleeping over to Tom who smiled at the girl.

Lando watch with his arms crosed. It's not that he didn't trust y/n it was that Tom guy. He watched as he placed his arm around her waist for a picture and he clenched his jaw.

He wouldn't say anything because it would only make her sad. He hated the way her face lit up as he asked her a question. Jealousy was sweeping in through his veins.

Max, who was walking down the paddock saw his sisters boyfriend frowning and followed his eye sight.

He laughed knowing Y/n liked Coriolanus Snow and extension to who played him.

"No need to be jealous." Max commented as he pattered Lando's shoulder shaking the boy from his thoughts.

"I'm not." Lando scoffed and went back to watching his girlfriend as she bid the Brit goodbye.

"Say that to your clenched jaw and your posture." Max chuckled just as y/n was standing in front of them.

"Max." She beamed and kissed him on the cheek. Y/n looked over at Lando with a happy face. "Tom said he was coming tot he McLaren garage. So I said he could stand with me." She gushed.

"How wonderful." Lando smiled at her in fake happiness.

Max chuckled watching them walk away knowing jealous Lando is a funny Lando. He had seen Lando get jealous when guys would come up to her in the clubs.

Lando clenched his jaw hard as he watch Tom make y/n laugh and throw he head back in laughter.

All day y/n had been showing Tom around. And when she was with Lando a bit, all she talked about was Tom and how he filmied Billy The Kid in the snowny mountains.

Charles had teased him about it but backed of seeing the anger in his eyes.

Lando was suited up and ready for the race and was talking to Will. He knew driving like this was a bad idea. Being frustrated beofer a race, never good.

He was normally a jealous guy but he also knew no one could match up to him. But this Tom guy could.

He was handsome. Older. The Verstappen's had a thing for older people. (🤭) Y/n only being 22.

Lando took a deep breath knowing y/n would never cheat on him. Or do anything like that to jeopardise there relationship.

Zak was about to ask Lando a question when Lando pushed his helmet into Will's hand abruptly and stored over to y/n.

"-and then he gave me all thease roses-" y/n was cut of from talking to Tom as Lando grabbed her hand and basically yanked her to his driver's room. "Hey!" She yelled.

Lando ignored her until he pushed her lightly into his driver's room.

"What was that for? I was talking to Tom." Y/n asked closing her arms watching Lando as he signed and then clenched his jaw.

"Do you like this Tom Blyth guy?" He blurted out.

Y/n frowned confused, not knowing what he was talking about. "What?"

Lando signed annoyed, "All day you have been hanging out with him. Laughing with him. Just Tom, Tom Tom." He ranted.

"That dosnt mean I like him." She told her Brit boyfriend.

Lando shook his head, "You barely spent the day with me."

"Your racing today Lan."

"So." He pondered crosing his arms.

Y/n laughed suddenly knowing what he was feeling. "Your jealous." She stated.

Lando shook his head. "I am not." He refused in a child's way.

"There's nothing to be jealous of. We were just talking. That's it." Y/n assured him.

"You looked pretty happy with him." He told her with a frown.

Y/n matched that frown and crosed her arms, now a little angry. "Jesus Lan, we were just talking. Yes I have a crush on him but that's only because we just watched hunger games." She sighed uncrosing her arms and looking away. "We actually have alot in common. As friends. He also has a girlfriend."

Lando looked away from her. Y/n sugged her shoulders with a sly smile, "Well he dose have nice hair though." She couldn’t help but teased.

Lando's head snapped to her direction. "No way. You can't love his hair. You love my hair." He refused making his way over to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

That was true. Y/n loved Lando’s hair. She had helped him keep his curls more healthy looking. Y/n loved to play with his as well as Lando loved it when she pulled his hair during sex.

Y/n sighed and pulled him into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and started playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

"I'm jealous." He confused. When y/n tried to pull back he refused and held onto her longer. "I'm scared that you'll leave me for someone older. You said when we first got together your type was older men and you liked British people."

Lando dl tightened his hold on her a little, "I don't want to lose you."

Lando was insured about losing the only person he loved more in the world, other then his family.

Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, she finally pulled away from Lando and put her hands on his cheeks. "I do like older men. I do like British men. But I love you." She spoke softly. She smiled at him, making him smile back. "You are the man I will always come home to. You are the one I love. No one, not even a crush I have will stop that because that's it. A crush." She told Lando.

"I love you." Lando smiled kissing her on the lips. Y/n smiled through the kiss.

"I love you." She replied breathless when they parted.

Lando signed and rested his head on her forehead. "I'm sorry for accusing you of liking that guy."

"You mean Tom." Y/n giggled.

"Hmm." He hummed, not caring of his name.

"God Lando." She checked, kissing his cheek before stepping away from him. "Now go out there and race." She giggled as he led then out of his driver's room.

When they got back to the garage Will looked over at them and Lando shot him a thumbs up to indicate it was all good.

Lando turned to his girlfriend. "But do stay with Lilly or something." He pleaded.

Y/n giggled. "Sure." She kissed Lando again beofer he was called over to his engineer. She would do it to ease his nerves and insecurities.

As y/n steped next to Lilly, Tom looked over at her and shot her a smile. She shot a small one back, before talking to Lilly.

Yes she loves Tom Blyth as a crush but her true heart belongs to Lando. He had nothing to worry about, ever.

He would be the one she spend the rest of her life with. What she didn’t known was a ring was resting in Lando’s bed side table. A ring that would sit on her left hand at the end of the year.

<><>

[twoidiotwriters1]

Mrs. Blythe —(Gilbert Blythe xFem!Reader)

A/N: This is me avoiding my big girl job -Danny Words: 1,429 Summary: SMUT. Gilbert won't wait until the wedding. Twoidiots Masterlist

"Are you sure this is okay?"

Gilbert hushes you as he stumbles forward in the dark hallway. "I told you, we have the house to ourselves tonight."

"Oh, but we really shouldn't," you mumble worryingly.

Gilbert lets out a boyish laugh, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Y/N, if there's ever a time to mishave, is right now, a week before our wedding."

"But giving others the responsibility to cover for us was a stretch—"

"Nonsense, none of them minded," Gilbert tugs you closer once he reaches the stairs, swiftly picking you up so you don't stall any longer.

You yelp a bit, clinging to his shoulders as he laughs again, a kind of childish sound you rarely hear nowadays, but it reminded you of earlier years, of fairy picnics and secrets shared behind the barn.

"Gilbert Blythe, you wicked devil!" You hiss, but the grin on your face tells him you're just as giddy as he is.

"You say that now," he smirks, carrying you to his room. "But I trust you'll melt right into my arms as soon as I get us undressed."

The mere thought makes your face heat up. It's not like you've been completely innocent so far, Gilbert and you have been sneaking off to have intimate, loving experiences since the first month of courtship, but you've never had enough time or space to enjoy yourselves fully, on his bed, out of all places.

Gilbert pushes the door open and then lightly kicks it shut once you're both inside. He gently sets you back on your feet and eyes you with affection, but there's a bit of darkness underneath, the kind that makes your knees weak.

"My love," he says, softly reaching to trace your cheek. "Mrs. Blythe."

"Not yet," you say playfully.

Gilbert's smile widens. "Ah, with all the times I've marked your body, darling, I believe the ceremony is mere paperwork."

You gasp quietly and swat his arm. "You're terrible tonight!"

"On the contrary, my sweet," he hums, pulling you closer by the waist. "I'll be very, very good to you tonight..."

Gilbert leans down and presses soft, lingering kisses to your neck. He breathes in your scent, reaching up to thread his hand through the soft locks of hair and sighing lowly in approval. He walks you backward to the bed, his other hand gently grasping your hip and ensuring you don't trip.

You don't really fight it, after all, you two are getting married in a week, so there is no real danger in indulging his fancies. Your hands move expertly over his shirt and suspenders, pushing both off his shoulders until he tosses them away.

He looks at you, a gaze that is now fully lustful as he turns you around and unbuttons the back of your dress, leaning forward and peppering light kisses onto your nape.

His hands wander under the fabric, tracing your shoulder blades and then your waist, pushing off the dress until your torso is bare, and his lips are brushing over the soft skin at the base of your neck.

"This will be our life, Y/N," he whispers against your ear. "You, on my bed, and I, loving you morning, day, and night until I forget myself." his hands travel up your front and cup your chest, his breath hitches against your cheek as he continues to speak. "Every bit of you, I'll worship, every bit of me will be devoted to you, only ask and you'll get it... whatever you want."

The dress falls off your body and you turn in his arms, looking up at him wantonly, your hands reaching for his trousers. Gilbert frowns and helps you get them out of the way, and once that's done you climb into bed together.

Gilbert's mouth is everywhere, he kisses your cheeks, your mouth, your neck, he travels down to your collarbone and presses his face to the valley of your breasts, making a sound of utter satisfaction at the feeling. Your hand rests on the back of his head, running through his brown curls in an almost lazy manner as you relish the attention.

His hand travels down your stomach, and he presses a kiss just under your ear as his fingers slip between your thighs and find your center. He moans, his hand trembling when it comes into contact with your heat.

"Good lord," he blurts out heavily. "Y/N, dearest, I can't wait to feel you sucking me in..."

You whimper in reply, his lewd words making your legs part wider. He slips one finger inside you, groaning at the sensation. Your hips buck up against his hand, and he grinds his own on your body, his length pressing against your thigh demanding attention.

"Gilbert," you sigh, clinging to his arm as he moves in deliberate, patient movements.

"That's a good girl," he speaks in a breathy voice, smiling down at your lovely needy expression. "Just making sure you can fit me, sweetheart, you know it won't take long..."

You arch against him demanding more, and Gilbert's free hand slides down to grip your bum, squeezing lightly. He groans and buries his face on your neck, almost shaking with need.

"Please..." You pant, lifting one of your legs and keeping it on his hip. Gilbert holds it in place, grabbing your thigh and pulling it higher to wrap it around his waist.

"Just like that, my love," he mumbles, biting your shoulder lightly. "Let me take you just like that..."

He pulls his fingers out of you and then wraps them around his manhood, using your wetness so he can slide in without issue. You watch him move his hand up and down his length, his eyes never leaving you, and then he lines up with your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

"Get on my cock, won't you sweetheart?" He asks, his tone polite yet holding the right amount of authority.

You moan, nodding eagerly as you lift up your hips and then push him into you, shivering at the feeling. Gilbert moans too, letting his member slide in a steady motion until he's buried deep. His left hand clings to the pillow as he tries not to ram into you like a beast.

"Y/N, my love," he says lowly, burying his face in your hair as he rolls his hips a little. "My goddess on earth..."

You whimper, needing more of him, all of it. "Gilbert," you beg, your hand holding onto his hip to encourage him.

"I know," he sighs, slowly moving back and forth. "I know, love, but I must take my time... or this will end quickly..."

His arms wrap around you, his face traveling down as he kisses your breasts with hunger, biting and moaning into the skin. You lose track of time, focusing solely on the pace you're trying to keep and how his hands travel over your body.

Gilbert speeds up when you grasp his hair a bit too tightly, his voice turning into a growl. You gasp, clenching around him, and that makes his hips stutter. "Y/N," he moans. "Again..."

He doubles his efforts wanting to get that exact reaction from you over and over again, which causes you to end up a whining flushed mess. Your nails dig into his back and Gilbert starts to collapse on top of you, so he rolls over without pulling out, keeping you firmly in place.

"Like this," he pants. "Move on me like this."

You tremble at the way his voice sounds, so deep and urgent. Your hips move on their own, stuttering as you slowly reach your limit. "Gilbert— ah!" You stutter, your hands pressing on his stomach. "I can't... I need..."

"I know," he places a hand on your lower back, guiding your movements. "Come for me, Mrs. Blythe." He grins.

It unravels you. His voice, his smile, his body underneath yours, and knowing this is what the rest of your life will look like. When you finish, it's like swimming in the moonlight. Blinding, and so very sweet.

Gilbert follows right after, his hands gripping your hips to keep them in place as he stills beneath you and tilts his head back, his mouth falling open and a deep rumble of pleasure slipping out of it. You slow down to a stop, and he pulls you down onto his chest gently, once again burying his face in your hair and sighing.

"My wife," he mutters hoarsely, and you have no interest in correcting him this time.

Taglist.

@i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @aleksosoto @moonhoonie @thatonementallyillsimp @cedricisnotdead @mikaelsonwhxrebae @lavenderacademia @angelhugsaresweet @slytherinambitious @outofst1le @na1ven3vy @lucyk

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Coriolanus Snow x FemReader: Halls Of Obsession 18+

A/n: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this dark and twisted story! 😈 Just a heads up, this is 18+ content, so please proceed with caution! ⚠️ I want to make it clear that I do not condone the relationships or behaviour depicted here. It's purely for fictional exploration especially seeing as Coriolanus Snow is typically a darker character. 🙅‍♀️💭

Also, if you're into more intense, mature themes, feel free to check out my other series, Pleasantries of 'Love' (Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader) 💖, with Chapter 1 just uploaded yesterday! ✨ And if you're into the Hunger Games AU, don’t miss Threads of Freedom (My OC Archer Brown x Fem! Reader, 15th Hunger Games AU) featuring a Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth) face claim!

Thanks for reading, and happy indulging in these darker stories! 💋 Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Stalking, obsession, control, mental manipulation, emotional manipulation, gender dynamics, misogyny, unhealthy relationships, delusional Coriolanus, gaslighting, dark themes and power imbalance

Coriolanus leaned casually against the wall near the entrance of the university hall, his posture relaxed but his mind sharp, taking in every detail of the bustling crowd. Students hurried past him, eager to escape the confines of their lectures and dive into the freedom of the evening. Yet, amidst the sea of faces, his eyes sought only one. Her.

She emerged from the crowd like a ripple breaking the surface of still water, her presence commanding his undivided attention. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows caught the soft strands of her hair, turning them into a golden halo. She moved with an unassuming grace, her focus seemingly elsewhere, clutching a notebook to her chest as if it were a shield.

Coriolanus’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he watched her pause to greet a classmate, her laughter light but fleeting, like a secret carried away by the wind. His fingers flexed against the wall, the urge to step forward warring with his disciplined restraint. Patience, he reminded himself, savouring the game he had constructed in his mind. He would make his move when the moment was perfect when she least expected it. For now, he was content to remain a shadow, watching, waiting, and unravelling the threads of her world piece by piece.

The girl he had been quietly observing for months. No, not months almost a year. It had started innocently enough, or so he told himself. He had noticed her during the first week of classes, her presence standing out in a sea of anonymity. She had been sitting in the back of a lecture hall, scribbling furiously in her notebook while everyone else seemed content to zone out. There was something about her intensity, the way she seemed so absorbed in her own world, that drew his gaze again and again. By the end of that week, he knew her schedule by heart.

At first, Coriolanus had convinced himself it was nothing more than curiosity. The first time he noticed her was during a philosophy lecture. She had slipped into the room quietly, her posture rigid yet unassuming, as though she wished to blend into the background. But she couldn’t. Not to him. There was something magnetic about her serious, reserved, and entirely indifferent to the exhausting theatrics of campus life. While others vied for attention and alliances, she seemed untouchable, consumed by a world far removed from the trivialities of their peers.

That moment lingered in his mind far longer than it should have. He found himself searching for her in every lecture, catching glimpses of her bent over her notes, her pen moving with precision. There was a stark elegance in her solitude, a defiance in her silence. It was intoxicating.

Weeks turned into months, and that initial spark of intrigue began to fester. Curiosity became a fixation. He would loiter outside her lecture halls, under the guise of coincidence, timing his movements so that they would pass in the corridors or share fleeting moments in the library. He began to rearrange his schedule, reworking every detail of his routine to ensure their paths would cross—no matter how insignificant the interaction.

It became a ritual, one he both dreaded and relished. His heart would race at the mere sight of her, a mix of longing and frustration knotting in his chest. The more she remained oblivious to his growing obsession, the more insatiable it became. Coriolanus found himself consumed by the idea of her, his thoughts dominated by questions he couldn’t shake. Why didn’t she notice him? Why was she so immune to the charms and status that others bent over backward to acknowledge?

And as his fascination deepened, so too did his desire for control. She was no longer just a girl; she was a puzzle, a challenge, and in his mind, something meant to belong to him.

Coriolanus couldn’t stop himself. He memorised her patterns down to the second with an almost obsessive precision the way she tilted her head when lost in thought, the quiet hum she made under her breath when she believed no one was listening, the books she checked out from the library, and even the routes she took when walking home. Each detail was like a puzzle piece, slowly forming a picture that only he was privy to.

But it wasn’t enough. Observing her from afar no longer satisfied the gnawing need within him. He wanted more. Needed more. To know the thoughts that danced behind her quiet demeanour, to hear her voice directed at him not in passing politeness but in something personal, something real.

The rational part of him whispered that this fixation was dangerous, but he silenced it with ease. She had become his constant, his obsession. The world around him blurred when she was near, her presence sharpening every sense to an almost unbearable intensity.

It was no longer about curiosity or fascination. It was about possession. She didn’t know it yet, but she was his. She belonged to him in a way that no one else ever could. And soon, he would make her understand that too.

Today, as on every other day, she carried a precarious stack of books in her arms, her steps purposeful and unwavering. She exuded a quiet determination that fascinated him. Even from this distance, Coriolanus could anticipate her route to the library, as always.

His girl was so predictable, yet he found comfort in that. She was like clockwork, her movements steady and deliberate, her routines as unchanging as the sunrise. He couldn’t help but admire her devotion to her studies, and the way she treated her academic pursuits with the same reverence others reserved for religion. It wasn’t just intelligence it was passion, a drive that set her apart from everyone else.

Look at her, he thought, a faint smile curling his lips as he leaned casually against a column. My smart little girl, always so diligent, so focused. She doesn’t even realise how special she is, how different she is from the rest of them.

Her obliviousness to her own allure only made her more captivating. She didn’t try to draw attention to herself, yet she held it effortlessly. The way her brow furrowed in thought, the way she hugged those books as though they were her armour against the world it all made him want to pull her closer, to strip away her defences and show her that she didn’t need to carry everything on her own.

He pushed off the wall with an almost lazy grace, slipping seamlessly into the flow of students. To anyone watching, he would seem like just another young man heading toward his next task. But every step he took was deliberate, calculated. He kept a discreet distance, his sharp mind tracking her every movement without drawing attention to himself.

As she turned the corner, her destination clear, Coriolanus quickened his pace. The library loomed ahead, its heavy oak doors propped open for the last wave of students filtering in. He adjusted his stride, ensuring he reached the entrance just moments before her. The timing was everything, and he had perfected this act of apparent coincidence.

When he arrived at the library door, he paused, hand resting lightly on the wood, as though debating whether to enter. In truth, he was waiting. He could hear her measured footsteps drawing nearer, the faint shuffle of pages as she adjusted her books. A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face, a predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

She doesn’t even know I’m here, he thought, the thrill of the moment making his pulse quicken. Just a little closer, my girl. So close now.

He could almost feel her presence before she emerged into view her scent, faint but distinct, the quiet hum of her energy that seemed to surround her like a shield. He waited, eyes fixed on the door, anticipating the exact second she would appear. When she finally rounded the corner, there was a brief moment where their gazes could have collided. But she didn’t look up.

She approached, her attention focused straight ahead, her gaze unwavering. Coriolanus moved, pulling the door open with a practised ease that felt almost natural. He stepped aside, his hand lingering on the door as he spoke, his voice smooth and refined.

“After you,” he said, a trace of a smile curling his lips.

Startled by the unexpected gesture, she glanced up, her expression softening into polite gratitude. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice quiet yet melodic, like the soft trill of a bird at dawn. Her gaze lingered on him for only a moment fleeting, yet enough to send a rush of heat coursing through his veins. And then she was gone, slipping past him and disappearing into the tranquil, book-lined expanse of the library.

Coriolanus’s pulse quickened, though his face remained composed, the perfect mask of indifference. Inside, however, a storm brewed. Her voice echoed in his mind, the simple thank you reverberating with an intimacy that left him dizzy. He followed her inside, his fingers brushing the edge of the doorframe, savouring the faint warmth it seemed to hold from her touch as he let it swing shut behind him.

The library was hushed, serene a cathedral of knowledge but to Coriolanus, it became something else entirely: a sanctuary for his obsession. Every creak of the floorboards beneath his polished boots felt like a ripple in the stillness, his every step calculated as he trailed her. Not too close. Not yet. She moved with purpose, her figure weaving through the maze of shelves like a shadow, each movement deliberate yet effortlessly graceful.

When she finally settled at a table near the large bay window, he stopped in the shadows of a nearby aisle, his gaze sharpening as it latched onto her. She placed her books in a neat stack, the delicate arc of her wrist as she adjusted them nearly unbearable to watch. Her brow furrowed slightly as she began to read, her lips parting just enough to hint at the silent rhythm of her thoughts.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. There was something maddeningly intimate about seeing her like this unguarded, immersed, unaware of the effect she had on him. The light streaming through the window cast her in soft hues, making her appear almost ethereal, and Coriolanus’s mind began to wander.

What would it feel like to shatter her calm? To lean in close enough that she had no choice but to notice him, to look up at him with those wide, unsuspecting eyes? Would her voice tremble if he spoke her name, the way it trembled in his imagination when he was alone late at night? Would her lips part with that same subtle allure if he dared to touch her hand, her face, her—

He clenched his jaw, tearing himself from the spiral of forbidden thoughts with an exhale that barely masked his frustration. She was so close, and yet impossibly out of reach, a cruel tease to the hunger he hadn’t yet dared to confront. For now, he would remain in the background, watching, waiting, letting his desires simmer beneath the surface. But in the dark corners of his mind, a vow was forming: one day, she wouldn’t be able to ignore him. One day, she would be his.

He selected a table nearby close enough to observe, far enough to avoid suspicion. Sliding into the chair with careful precision, he arranged a few books in front of him, meaningless tomes chosen at random, mere props for his façade. The titles didn’t matter. What mattered was his vantage point. From here, he could watch her uninterrupted, unnoticed, and unchallenged.

The sunlight streaming through the window painted her in an ethereal glow, bathing her features in soft, golden light. It was as if the universe conspired to highlight her beauty solely for him. She reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her slender fingers moving with effortless grace. Her focus remained entirely on the book in front of her, her lips faintly parted in concentration.

Coriolanus’s gaze lingered, hungry yet controlled, devouring every detail of her quiet movements. The curve of her neck as she leaned forward, the delicate furrow of her brow it all felt impossibly intimate, as though she were sharing secrets with him alone.

In his mind, she wasn’t just a girl. She was the girl. Perfect. Untouchable. The embodiment of everything he yearned for but could not yet claim. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was an ideal, a symbol of something greater. When he allowed his imagination to wander something he often indulged in when it came to her he could see it all so clearly.

She would sit beside him one day, poised and dignified, her quiet grace commanding a room in ways no words ever could. She would be the First Lady of Panem, the perfect complement to his rule. Together, they would project an image of power and unity, a vision of perfection that the Capitol would idolise and the districts would fear. He allowed himself to dream of her walking at his side in the Capitol’s grand halls, her every movement an echo of his control. Our control, he corrected himself.

And when the time came, she would bear his children his heirs perfect extensions of their union. She would be a doting housewife, tending to their home, and raising their children with all the love and care he knew she had in her. In the public eye, she would be the epitome of grace and motherhood, always poised, always revered. Yet she would still remain vital, her presence indispensable as his First Lady, supporting him, shaping the image of Panem's future with every carefully crafted word and action.

Why would she need anything else? Coriolanus thought darkly, the edges of his mind sharpening as the fantasy took root. Why would she want a career, a life outside their shared vision, when her true purpose would lie at his side, nurturing their family and cementing their legacy? Her talents and her intellect could be better put to use in other, more appropriate ways. A career would only distract her from what truly mattered: him, their children, their future.

No, he would make sure she saw it that way. He would make her see it that way. After all, who else could offer her a life so perfectly tailored to her? She won’t need to dream of anything else, he mused with a quiet, satisfied smile. Her place is here, with me, where she belongs.

And yet, here she was, utterly oblivious to his existence. The thought stung, a sharp reminder of how far he still had to go. But it didn’t matter. She would notice him eventually. He would make sure of it.

She’s mine, he thought, his fingers curling around the spine of a book he had no intention of reading. She just doesn’t know it yet.

His fingers brushed the cover of the book in front of him, though he made no move to open it. His attention remained fixed, darting between her and the room around them assessing the space, the people, the exits. Each detail was catalogued each movement of the room mapped in his mind. Nothing was left to chance. This was no fleeting infatuation it was an obsession, controlled, deliberate, calculated.

He knew more about her than he should. Her favourite coffee order, the way she always sat in the quiet corners of campus, lost in her thoughts, with the world completely unaware of her presence. And there was the subtle, almost imperceptible habit she had twirling her pen between her fingers when her mind wandered, a small gesture that somehow made him feel as if she were revealing a part of herself to him. Even though she had never spoken more than a few words to him, these details felt like secrets, intimately shared, as if they were his own.

The minutes stretched into hours, the soft hum of the library wrapping them both in a cocoon of stillness. To her, it was an ordinary afternoon another in a long line of study sessions and quiet solitude. But to Coriolanus, it was an intricately choreographed performance. Each movement, each glance, each breath was a part of his game, a carefully measured step toward embedding himself into her world.

He didn’t need to speak to her not yet. The thrill, the power, lay in the waiting, in the quiet observation, in learning everything there was to know before making his move. One day, she would look up and realise he had always been there, patiently building the foundation of something inevitable.

His lips twitched into a fleeting, almost imperceptible smile as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving her. This was just the beginning. Soon, the pieces would fall into place, and when the time came, she would have no choice but to fall in line. She was his. He had already decided. This was only the beginning.