#but we knew he was on the chopping block
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if they show steve's parents in s5 that's your sign he's dying
#but we knew he was on the chopping block#the moment a show wants to get introspective with a character they haven't before... the character is likely dying#especially when we've gotten virtually nothing about steve's background this entire time#steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things 5
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that was the most satisfying episode of survivor in such a long time, i don't even think Q's vote out felt that good
#i can't believe people are annoyed at the edit because it was obvious#bruh sometimes everyone just hates one person and that's the way the vote is gonna go#it was glorious watching rome dig himself deeper and deeper into a hole of his own making#knowing that he was on the chopping block#as soon as it opened with him we knew#AND THANK GOD#sol nation lets ride?#survivor 47
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London Boy | LN4 smau
lando norris x verstappen!reader
summary: in which max unknowingly introduces his sister to her future boyfriend
fc: olivia rodrigo
y/nverstappen
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y/nverstappen i stole max’s cat, don’t tell him
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username1 aww so cute
username2 when are you coming to another race!
maxverstappen1 😑
y/nverstappen i thought i blocked you??
maxverstappen1 Give me Sassy back.
username3 lando in the likes⁉️⁉️
username4 bro chill, he’s literally friends with max
danielricciardo so the heist plan is in motion. perfect.
y/nverstappen he doesn’t suspect a thing😈
y/nverstappen
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y/nverstappen i had the best time exploring england with the best guide! congrats bro on the win🥳
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landonorris it was lovely showing you around😊
maxverstappen1 no
username1 wait wdym lando showed her around england???
username2 the better verstappen fr
username3 the outfits slay
danielricciardo Nice seeing you again y/n/n!
y/nverstappen my favorite brother🫶
maxverstappen1 I’m right here?? And you’re not even related?
username4 her hair literally always looks good
lilymhe gorgeous girl
y/nverstappen ilysm babe lemme visit you
alex_albon that’s literally my gf???
y/nverstappen lily never let your boyfriend get in the way of finding your future wife
lilymhe you’re so right babe
landonorris posted a story
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username1 babe what about us??? what about the kids??
danielricciardo 🤨
username2 is this a soft launch
username3 NOOOOO THAT SHOULD BE ME😭
username4 who is that????
y/nverstappen i had a fun time hanging out today!🥰
y/nverstappen
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danielricciardo hmm, interesting
username1 what do you know??
username2 uh girl you got something to tell us?
username3 she doesn’t owe you anything, get out of her business
username4 oh i just KNOW max is fuming💀
maxverstappen1 Y/n who is that
maxverstappen1 Is that a boy
maxverstappen1 Y/n answer my texts
username5 oooh someone’s not happy
username6 that food looks good asf
username7 outfit always serves
y/nverstappen posted a story
landonorris
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landonorris home is wherever i’m with you
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username1 sobbing, hyperventilating, throwing up
username2 nah the caption, that is so fricking adorable
danielricciardo aww i knew you were a big softie
georgerussell63 did you pay someone to take that picture with you😂
landonorris haha very funny mate
username3 god, i’ve seen what you’ve done for others🙏
f1gossip
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f1gossip 🚨🚨Lando Norris spotted with mystery girl over summer break, sources say it could be Max Verstappen’s sister, Y/n
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username1 i literally knew it and you all doubted me😑
username2 chill out, it’s still not confirmed
username3 we can’t even see her face
username4 OMG???????
username5 oh max is DEFINITELY pushing lando off the track in zandvoort
username6 sources: my delusions
username7 y’all we lost a good one😣 (y/n not lando)
username8 you’re so real cause she’s gorgeous
username9 nah cause why is this actually so freaking cute, like omg the way he is smiling at her🤭🫠
username10 HAND PLACEMENT???
username11 max is gonna chop off lando’s hands
username12 i’d pay good money to see the text messages
y/nverstappen
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y/nverstappen in a world of boys, he's a gentlemen
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username1 AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
username2 this is so adorable! (i'm sleeping on the highway tonight)
landonorris you’re my everything💞💞
username3 y'all owe me an apology, i KNEW it
maxverstappen1 If you're happy, I'm happy
username4 you're definitely being forced to say this
username5 boyfriend lando is everything🥺
username6 they look so happy
username7 i’m balling my eyes out
kellypiquet you guys are adorable🩷
y/nverstappen thanks for talking max down😁
landonorris
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landonorris got love-struck, went straight to my head
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username1 the matching captions omg
y/nverstappen i love you baby❤️
maxverstappen1 🤮🤮
danielricciardo I KNEW IT @.carlossainz55 you owe me 50 bucks
carlossainz55 damn it
landonorris YOU HAD A BET???
oscarpiastri yes
charles_leclerc yes
georgerussell63 yes
alex_albon yes
maxverstappen1 YOU ALL HAD A BET AND DIDNT TELL ME?
maxfewtrell she's good for you, mate🤍
maxverstappen1 remember what i told you🙂
username2 oh! this definitely isn’t threatening at all
landonorris i will😰
y/nverstappen max emilian verstappen what did you tell him?
username3 this😭is😭so😭adorable😭
username4 bro is getting pushed into the barrier next race fs
username5 the IT couple
#f1 smau#lando norris#max verstappen#f1#lando norris x reader#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#lando norris fanfic#smau#lando norris smau#mclaren
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“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.
parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.
notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol
notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)
tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen
“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”
When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.
Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.
You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”
One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”
“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”
You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.
“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.
You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”
He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”
“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”
Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.
Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.
“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”
The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.
Well, consider the waters tested.
“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”
Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.
“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.
He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…
However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.
Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.
“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”
Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”
You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”
“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.
“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”
Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”
“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.
With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.
Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.
The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:
“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”
It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.
Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.
When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.
It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.
“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”
“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”
Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”
You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”
“Welcome, gorgeous.”
The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.
“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”
Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”
You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”
Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.
Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.
“Next time, pretty baby.”
You huffed. “Fine.”
Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.
Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”
He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”
“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.
That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.
“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.
“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”
“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”
Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”
You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”
“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”
“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”
You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”
Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”
“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.
“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”
“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”
He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”
You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”
“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.
Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.
And he knew how much you hated doing that.
“Ten minutes.”
He sighed. “[_____]…”
“Five minutes?”
“We can’t-“
“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.
Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.
Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”
Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.
“Better me than Kaku.”
“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”
Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…
Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.
“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.
You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”
“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”
“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”
“Now, hold on—”
Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.
You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”
However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.
“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”
Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.
“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”
“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.
“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”
Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.
Remorse.
Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…
And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.
With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”
“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”
“-and I don’t care. I just…”
Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.
Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.
Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”
© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
#🍁wasabi#𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞~✩#tokyo rev#tokyorev#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev x reader#tokyorev smut#tr smut#tokyorev headcanons#tokyo revengers x reader#bonten x reader#bonten smut#manjiro#kakucho#sanzu#ran#rindou
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@harvestandhearth
I almost didn't write this because of the amount of hate I was getting but you were so excited I figured one little addition wouldn't hurt.
Tw Cop!Danny if you don't like don't read.
It had been an offhand comment. Walker had notice the ghost boy...now man had seemed upset. Upon hearing Phantom's plight he had made the suggestion, become a cop.
Danny wasn't a fan of cops, too many bad things done under the guise of protecting and serving. But he'd failed at becoming a fire fighter. The heat from one of the training events had all but hospitalized him, which got him kicked out. Thanks to the meta protection acts and the open secret of who he was no one judged him for his weakness.
Then he tried for the Emt route, but between his poor high-school grades effecting any chances at a scholarship and the time he had to spend fighting ghosts he didn't really manage well and ended up dropping out. But hey he picked some stuff up and used that to patch people up post Ghost fights.
He considered a social worker too, but he couldn't exactly fight Ghost on the clock, and the lack of action made it a slog. After so long of being a vigilante, the need for action was a second nature. The Ghost biology needing to fight didn't help either.
Walker's idea buzzed around his head. It made sense in a weird way. He could actually help people, fight Ghost on the clock, and get a decent pay check...
His sister ever the busy body had asked why civil service jobs? Why not go for Nasa like he dreamed of. With the acts repealed and him being labeled a meta he could legally do so. But those damn grades ruined it.
So a cop be became. It was disturbingly easy to become one too. Worrisomely so. He was both good and bad at his job depending who you asked. The people despite their teasing loved him. He had always done his best for them, he only rarely used any form of violence with people, and when needed nothing more then the bare minimal to safely stop them. Hell he'd taken a few bullets from other cops to save people.
The other cops hated him, Danny didn't subscribe to the usually loyalty and standards a cop had. You did something illegal and abused your power he'd report it in such a way consequences had to be given. Yeah he'd keep his partner safe, and did his job well but he broke the status quo. He also made the whole force in Amity look bad. He was so good he made them look incompetent.
But despite all he did Danny wasn't free from the social scrutiny. Both from the living and the dead. Ghost mocked him for becoming lame and joining the cops. Humans just went with the stigma, not unfairly so; and it just fueled him to do his job better. To prove to people that just because he wore a uniform he wasn't full of hate.
Apparently he did his job too well. At least that's what he assumed as he sat in an office a Green Lantern in front of him. "So let me get this straight, you want me to become the face of a civilian branch of the Justice League?" Danny was still bitter about all the help he didn't get as a budding child hero.
"Yes, your work as both a cop and a meta dealing with supernatural threats has gained an online following. We want people to know that we work with the authorities and accept metas in non-hero jobs." Hal could tell the man was suspicious of him. Which wasn't unfair since the league seemed to always recruit metas into hero jobs.
"You wouldn't have to do more then you already do aside the occasional press conference." He continued.
Danny sighed and thought on it, this would secure his job that he knew was on the chopping block due to his 'insubordination'. They couldn't fire him without a major backlash if he had the Justice League on his side. But he didn't like the idea of being some sort of symbol. He just wanted to help protect people, and maybe throw some punches with some ghosts. He was a simple man after all.
"Fine but I want the medical benefits the League offers." Medical was expensive, and while Danny healed faster then the average person that didn't effect the initial bills. And he had to go to the hospital for paperwork's sake.
"That can be arranged." Hal was just glad he didn't get the expected rejection from the ex-teen hero.
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the aftermath of being turned into an ex jujutsu kaisen — gojo satoru.
gojo's a man of commitment. if rounding up a ‘band’ to serenade you into taking him back is what'll do the trick, then he'll organize it.
+ extra. this is meant to be unserious dont attack me for mischaracterization n shi 😞
“we're done.”
“we are not!”
in the end, he got kicked out. due to the shame he felt by being kicked out of a house he once lived in, satoru actually leaves. don't party too soon though, he's going to come back within five hours.
the plan he had in mind was simple: go to the department store, buy some roses, a poster, led lights, a table, some chocolates, and hire a band. for this the budget will be endless.
you thought you got rid of satoru but little did you know that he still has his share of keys. with that trick up his sleeve, he unlocks the gate, sneaking in everyone and the props.
satoru wasn't able to hire a band, but he was able to get a substitute. you see, todo, inumaki, and yuuji have hidden talents. they can all play instruments and one can sing! he always knew there was a reason why he's proud of his students.
quietly, the four men set the stage that's actually your front yard. in the center holds the white table with a black satin cloth delicately placed on it. the three bouquets of roses sit beautifully on the table. some petals were picked out and carefully spotted as well. on the table's center held the chocolate and wine — your favourite wine, to be exact. the finishing touch is the led lights. they're circling the ground, illuminating it with a soft yellow glow.
at the right and left sides of the table are inumaki and yuuji. inumaki's holding a wooden guitar while yuuji holds the hand drum. todo's position is in front of the table but a little off-center. he's holding the microphone, ready to pour his heart out on the song.
the star, satoru, is the one in the center. one hand hides behind his back. it's holding another rose bouquet with hundred-dollar bills wrapped with the roses. his free hand holds his phone. as soon as the clock strikes 7:00PM, he's going to call you. everything should play out perfectly.
anxiously watching his wristwatch switch from 6:59 to 7:00, he immediately calls you. one, two, three, six rings later you answered.
“you. i forgot to block you.”
“excuse me?” satoru scoffs, “whatever, i'm not calling for that.”
“chop chop then. i don't have all night.”
“can you come outside?”
“no. i will be calling the police.”
“OH C'MON,” he whines, getting desperate. “please? after this i'll leave you alone. promise.”
“...”
yuuji painfully watches. he feels incredibly sorry for his teacher. he doesn't deserve this!
“i don't think this is going good,” yuuji whispers to the boys, moving his head side-to-side.
todo raises his fist, gesturing to the boys to have some faith. “let's put our hopes high.”
they watch satoru closely. his hand that held the phone dramatically dropped to his side. slowly, he turns his head to face the boys behind him. his face breaks their hearts. he's pouting with eyes nearing tears — a pain only males like them can understand!
before satoru can say something, the front door clicks open. as it swings open aggressively, you made yourself tonight's main star unwillingly. you were not dressed for whatever this occasion is. your front yard has been ruined, your ex is there, three of his students you've met a few times, and while they're in suits, you're in a fancy robe with fluffy indoor slippers.
your eyebrows crease together, just when did they do all of this?! maybe it's time to install cameras.
“satoru, what the fuck did you do to my—”
“shh, tonight it's just you and him,” todo cuts you off, switching the mic on and beginning his performance. inumaki tunes the guitar and starts stringing random strings in hopes that they sound good. yuuji follows by tapping a simple “dun-da-da-dun-dun” beat on the drums.
your mouth's now opened. baffled by the sight, you stood there motionless.
“i have died every day waiting for you~”
as todo sings, satoru walks up to you, cheekily smiling at your shocked expression.
you back away from him, eyebrows still furrowed at whatever's going on.
“darling, don't be afraid~”
at this lyric, satoru takes the opportunity to shove his phone back into his pocket and grab your wrist. although you attempted to wriggle free, you are no match for his strength. gently, he pulls you into the yard.
both your eyes lock on each other. you search his eyes for emotions, he searches yours for any signs of longing. it's not there, he thinks. he feels a pinch in his heart, but it won't stop him. sending you a wink, he pulls you closer to the table.
“i have loved you for a thousand years (ooh)~”
“seriously, what's all this bullshit?!” you whisper-yelled at him, using your other hand to point at the table.
satoru simply shrugs.
“i'll love you for a thou-sand more (ooh, yeah)~”
todo ends his singing, clapping along with the other two to end the performance. it was the most touching thing he's ever done besides gifting yuuji and his idol a trio matching keychains set.
satoru coughs three times in attempts to hide his laugh. this has probably been the most unserious yet serious he's ever been, but his perfomance doesn't end there. he still has something else to whip out.
“baby—”
“that's not my name,” you cut him off.
“anyway. as i was saying,” he stops, revealing the rose bouquet with multiple hundred-dollar bills. “all of these are yours.”
your eyes bulge, but you quickly regain yourself.
“i'm not going to be won over with some roses and money.”
“there's wine and chocolates too,” yuuji says, immediately shutting up after you shot him a look.
inumaki stands awkwardly. he feels immense second-hand embarrassment. to counter such feelings, he starts playing the guitar again.
satoru cups the side of your face with his hand. his thumb caresses your cheek as he locks his eyes on yours again.
“i was serious about not breaking up, y'know,” he softly speaks, “i know i'm pushing it and all that stuff but i don't think i can leave you.”
it's once again your turn to be speechless. at this point, you're sure that there's no way all of this is happening in one night.
since you won't take hold of the bouquet, satoru places it in your hand. to solidify it even more, he lifts your other hand to place a kiss on it.
“what level of romance is this?” again, yuuji speaks. this time, it's satoru who gestures him to quiet down.
inumaki's still playing the out-of-tune guitar, enjoying the way the wind gently blows. it's truly a beautiful night. under the full moon's light, you and satoru glow together.
todo gears up for another round of singing. he immediately does a dragged-out “ooh~” adlib. this, however, wasn't going to last as long as his previous one did.
“NO — no more, please. you have a wonderful voice but i've heard enough. please.” you turned around to todo, begging him to mute the mic and possibly himself.
“and you,” you turn back to face satoru, “clean this up, get the boys home safely, and then come back.”
after that, you walked back to inside your house with the bouquet, making it satoru's turn to be left speechless. he still didn't win you over with some roses and money (wine and chocolates too) but his stupid commitment to keeping the relationship is what did.
#. ae-generated: jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#jjk scenarios#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x fem!reader#gojo satoru scenario#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk oneshot#gojo oneshot
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Hi there! I hope u are doing well, can I request a strawhats crew reaction to a reader who can see ghosts or souls? It can be like their devil fruit power or just something that they're born with. It can be a short fic with all the strawhats or if it's too much it can just be the monster trio, i don't mind either way, do what you prefer! Thanks for letting me request!
DESCRIPTION: You can see ghosts and spirits
WARNINGS: don’t think it’s too angsty but does mention dead characters. Luffy's is set just before a canon event.
CHARACTERS: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy
WORDS: 1,672
A/N: Thank you for this request. For some reason I struggled a lot with how I wanted this to go and I hope you're happy with this outcome.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
You didn’t really know the rhyme or reason for your gift. It was just always something you had and having grown up being able to see and speak with spirits you’d never felt the need to investigate it. Besides even if you were to learn the reason for your unique talent, it wasn’t like you were ever going to seek out a way to get rid of it. As far as you were concerned it was a part of you and it brought comfort to a lot of people once they got over their shock and in some cases heavy skepticism that you were playing a cruel prank on them.
When you first set foot on the Thousand Sunny you had to suppress the shiver that ran up your spine as you were hit with an intense feeling that those on the crew were connected to a lost one and the weight of their grief was still heavy on their shoulders even if they didn’t realise it themselves. So you decided to keep your ability to yourself for now and help when the occasion to do so arose. As you set yourself up in your quarters you smiled softly, seeing that you truly were brought onto the crew for a reason. Idly you wondered who in the crew would be the first you would help.
SANJI
Sanji turned out to be the first. You entered the kitchen and smiled in greeting to the ship’s cook only your gaze to drift behind his shoulder. Your smile fell slightly and you stepped further into the room, peering at Sanji with intent concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking the chef by surprise as his own smile faltered.
“Nothing, now that you’re here.” He insisted, adopting his charming smile once more but you firmly shook your head, refusing to be convinced by his outward demeanour. Sanji became nervous and let his gaze fall away from you stare, finding it easier to maintain his pretence. Quickly he turned back to his chopping board and continued to prepare food for the evening meal. “What on earth would make you think something was wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level.
“Your mother only ever shows this clearly when you’re deeply upset about something.” Your voice was soft but it was enough to make Sanji drop his knife against the block with a dull thud. He felt like laughing at the ludicrous statement at the same time he felt like shouting at you for the weird joke. Yet he couldn’t do either. You didn’t know anything about him or his family and he knew it wasn’t in you to say something so heartless. Thankfully he didn’t need to demand you explain yourself because you proved your honesty immediately. “You have her eyes and smile, kind and comforting. She worries when you get like this, hiding how you truly feel.”
Sanji looked over his shoulder to see you smiling fondly at something or rather someone beside him. Desperately he wished he could see what you saw, to see her again but if this was as close as he could get then he would take it a hundred times over. “I don’t want anyone to worry, least of all her.”
“Sanji we all have bad days and hiding that from the people we care about isn’t the way to do it.” You told him, finally looking at his face again, reaching out to lightly push some of the hair from his eyes. “We have emotions for a reason and no-one expects you to suppress them. I’m always here to listen, okay?” You weren’t surprised to be brought into a tight hug by Sanji and returned the embrace, letting him hold you for as long as he needed.
ZORO
It took some time for you to finally see the spirit attached to Zoro’s heart with enough clarity to take in her appearance and hear her. It didn’t surprise you that this one took longer, Zoro’s personality never came across as being someone who clung to the past and let it cloud his vision but on a day like this it was clear even Zoro wasn’t invulnerable to the deepest of connections that you could now see had been cut far too soon.
You’d wandered up to the Crow’s Nest to both take a break from the chaotic noise of Luffy, Franky, Chopper and Usopp and also settle in for your evening watch. This wasn’t anything new so Zoro only gave you a brief glance in greeting before going back to training against one of the reinforced training dummies Franky had made to withstand his attacks enough for a worthwhile practice. However he wasn’t moving the way he wanted, something was wrong with his movements. “You’re forgetting the fundamentals.”
Your voice came from the seating and Zoro looked over his shoulder to see you were casually leaning against the edge, looking out at the ocean. He cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at you. You weren’t even watching him, how would you know what he was apparently doing wrong? As if feeling his stare, you turned your head to look at him. “You’re getting too stuck in your head, just take a breath and keep it simple.”
Zoro had to scoff at the advice. Yes, you were a fighter but not a swordsman so to be told what was wrong stung his ego slightly. It’d be like if he tried to tell Franky how to fix the ship. You seemed to read the offence on his face and it surprised him to see you laugh and hold up your hands lightly in defence. “That’s not coming from me, it’s coming from Kuina.”
Kuina? Now Zoro found himself glaring and tensing out of a fear of his private life being pried into. Where had you heard that name? Who told you about her? Not that he confided in many about his childhood friend. You sighed sadly and got to your feet. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen this kind of reaction and it wasn’t surprising that Zoro fell back onto the defensive and become distrustful. You stopped in front of the swordsman and glanced briefly at the spirit at his side.
“She’s happy to see you’ve come so far but your name hasn’t quite reached the heavens yet. You still have a long way to go and she believes in you.” You smiled and lightly punched Zoro’s arm when you saw the belief and shock appear in his no longer skeptical gaze. “Keep getting stronger but don’t forget her father’s teachings okay?”
“I won’t let her down. I made a promise.” Zoro affirmed strongly and you grinned, turning to go back to your seat when he quickly caught your arm, surprising you. You turned and looked at him questioningly. “If she’s still here do you…do you think you can help me speak to her?”
LUFFY
It wasn’t much of a surprise to you that Luffy was the one to seek you out. He’d caught some talk from the crew about the things you just seemed to know things about their past or about someone they knew that had passed away. His suspicions were confirmed when you’d all stopped on an island for supplies and you’d helped a grieving family in a way no-one else could. You’d managed to ease their pain and reassure them that their loved one was still with them and had no regrets. When you were back on the Sunny he appeared beside you on the railings, grinning widely and already bouncing with excitement. “You see ghosts right?”
“Yeah, I see them. Not at will though.” You clarified, with Luffy being well Luffy you didn’t want to disappoint him by making him think that what you could was as easily controlled as a Devil Fruit ability which this was not. Still though your statement didn’t deflate him, if anything he only got more excited and he leaned in closer and set his hands on your shoulders.
“What about me? Is someone with me?” Despite how excited he was you could sense a faint desperation coming from Luffy and you wanted to be able to help but as you’d already told him this wasn’t something that you could manipulate and command freely whenever you wanted. You looked at Luffy carefully and then around him in search of a presence connected to him. Suddenly you felt a warmth and made out the outline of a man standing behind your Captain and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Ace.” You felt like you were saying it in greeting. You’d known about Luffy’s brother but never had the pleasure of actually getting to meet him. It was almost eerie how both Luffy and Ace grinned so happily and in sync but it was also so infectious. Luffy seemed pleased but then seemed to be eager for more.
“Is it just Ace? Is anyone else with him? Maybe younger?” He asked and you slowly shook your head with a small frown.
“Sorry Luffy, just Ace.” You said, disappointed that you couldn’t give Luffy what he wanted and seeing him sigh slightly and lower his gaze briefly made you feel guilty even though you knew it wasn’t your fault. Still though you couldn’t help but look to Ace, silently pleading for assistance on his part. However the brother only smirked knowingly and you began to suspect that Ace knew something you and Luffy didn’t. Thankfully that was all you needed to cheer Luffy up. “Just because I don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not with you though Luffy. Maybe next time whoever it is you’re thinking about will be there instead?”
“Yeah you’re right!” Luffy grinned while leaping up onto the railing, his previous excited energy returning instantly. Before you could speak any more, Law’s voice called for Luffy wanting to go over the plan for when you all would be reaching Dressrosa in just a couple days time.
#one piece#one piece imagines#one piece fic#sanji x reader#zoro x reader#luffy x reader#sanji x you#zoro x you#luffy x you#one piece x reader#one piece scenario#one piece x you#one piece fanfiction#zoro roronoa x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#black leg sanji x reader#sanji vinsmoke#one piece sanji#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x you#one piece luffy#monkey d. luffy#straw hat luffy#monkey d luffy#vinsmoke sanji#op sanji#op zoro#op luffy
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Still thinking about this
Art keeps coming in every couple months for the same haircut. As painful as it is, you're both starting to know each other better. You see his career is taking off, but you guys talk more than about just that. He talks about Tashi, his wife, and how they're trying for a child. They talk about how he got into tennis. Even about his family. It's nice, but it never makes you feel less guilty for cutting off his curls.
Art finds it amusing. That you feel so upset about this. Of course he finds it weird not to have his curls, but the way you act is comical (yet endearing). One day as you make a little pout as you begin to snip away he comments, "You look like I asked you to chop off my arm." His tone is somewhat flat, but with a smile, so you know he is teasing.
You shrugs, "You just have nice curls."
"You say that every time," he retorts with a little laugh.
"They're just so unique," you say as you continue to cut.
"They're just curls," Art says with a shrug.
You roll your eyes, "You just don't see curls like this all the time."
And maybe it's because his guard is down or because he feels like he has nothing to lose (or maybe because he just really wants to talk about him), Art responds, "I had a friend who had curls like this too."
The words feel loaded, as if he admitted a secret to you. You smile, "Oh really?"
"Yeah..." his voice trails with a smile which manages to be both bitter and nostalgic at the same time. He then adds, "His hair was dark though."
"Well does he cut it too?" You ask with a little laugh.
Does he? Art doesn't know. He's tried to find out. Not about the curls specifically, but about Patrick in general. There aren't that man pictures of him online, which isn't surprising because his career has gone no where (he feels joy and sadness at this fact). He goes silent as he tries to think about it. Does Patrick still have his curls? The fact he doesn't know feels like a loss. He had curls when he saw him last in Atlanta (a night he tries to block out from his memory), but that was two years ago now. The Patrick he knew wouldn't cut it. Is that the same Patrick? Probably. Yeah most likely.
"Maybe," he starts with a pause. "We don't keep in touch," he then adds. His voice is low and solemn. You don't have to be a genius to realize you hit a sore spot. The rest of the haircut is in silence.
#kinda love making things a little depressing#who is killing the vibe? ME#challengers#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig#artrick#hairdresser au
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living with ghoap was nice. two big burly fellas to keep you company, to reach the top shelves in the kitchen for you, to absolutely plough you into the mattress when you couldnt itch your own scratch for once. they were good lads.
but there were countless times where they’d be away for work, so you knew you couldnt be fully dependent on them. they knew that too, so they weren’t exactly going to object to you having fun without them. so long as you were happy and safe, they were content.
but fuck, the men out there are absolutely horrible to deal with. sleazy, there’s just… no ability to have any kind of banter with these things that think only with their cocks.
until you meet kilgöre alexander.
he’s gigantic, his shoulders probably share the same width as mount everest’s base. easily, kilgöre is the tallest man you’ve ever been with. he dwarfs simon in size, which is very telling in itself.
it’s hard to pry away at who kilgöre is as a person. he’s austrian, likes keeping himself to himself. absolutely refuses to tell you what he does for a living, because it’s on a need to know basis. “sounds like something a terrorist would say.” you jokingly coo one night at dinner, smirking as he rolls his foggy blue eyes at your comment. “har har, very funny.” he mockingly says, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly.
he’s one of the best things that’s happened to you in a while. he doesn’t know about the particular living arrangement you share with simon and johnny— like he says, it’s on a need to know basis. plus, you haven’t boned either of them since you met this fella. ghoap know what’s up, but they’re not bothered by it. they’re just glad to see you doing well for yourself. “ye have a glow about ye, love.” johnny coos in your ear one day, smirking as he watches you fluster and flounder around the kitchen, trying to make excuses. “it’s the vitamins i’m taking” this and “i’ve quit dairy” that. he knows the truth, simon know its too.
but there’s one thing that makes the attachment to this man absolutely unbearable.
he disappears from time to time.
some days it’s only a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks at a push. absolutely no contact.
he swears it’s to do with his line of work, that one day he’ll be able to tell you everything. but for now, he asks just for one thing.
“just… wait for me.”
it’s been almost a month with no contact from kilgöre, and it feels like every morning with no text, no nothing, you have a growing pit inside of you that can’t stop gnawing at you, eating you up whole. what the fuck? what could he possibly do for a career that makes it so he goes days without checking his phone? it makes you feel sick to your stomach. what if he’s in a gang or something?
besides, how the fuck can you keep on waiting for someone who you don’t even know is even alive? for all you know, this behemoth of a man has been hog tied and dumped at the bottom of a lake with cinder blocks strapped to his feet. how are you supposed to wait for someone who shows no signs of leaving or coming back?
“that light in yer eyes has dulled.” johnny remarks one evening, a sad smile on his lips. your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion. “huh? oh, yeah. uh… it’s the gluten intolerance i reckon.” you murmur to yourself, flashing a weak smile to consolidate his inquisitive gaze. “i’m fine, though.”
simon huffs as he leers next to you, skilfully flaying pieces of fish with a pensive look. both you and johnny glance at him, which only makes him grunt in response. you furrow your eyebrows at him, urging him to elaborate on what the pressing issue is.
“we reckon shit’s hit the fan with that new bloke of yours.” simon bluntly replies as he wipes off the chopping board with a damp cloth, hands gently scooping up guts, scales and delicate fish bones to dispose of. you scoff, eyes never leaving the cuts of fish meat that rest on a plate, waiting to be delicately battered and fried up.
“whatev—“
“and i know you, you’ll try and refute the truth that i know what’s going on. that we know what’s going on. so, none of this nonsense, alright? what’s up?”
johnny and simon silently watch you, their simultaneous waiting for any reaction from you making your skin crawl. at first, you scowl and huff. shifting your weight from foot to foot as you become defensive. simon cuts you off again, “none of that bollocks. tell the truth.”
you give in. on bated breath, you explain the whole situation. how kilgöre is the kind of man you had never expected to fall for, how he had managed to steal your attention even while being so elusive and secretive. how you desperately want him to come back to you, like he said he would.
johnny frowns, and simon nods in your direction, wiping his blood stained hands with the damp cloth. “fishy hands.” he murmurs, wiggling his fingers to prove he can’t comfort you with a hug. johnny nods, swiftly making his way around the kitchen island to come give you a warm hug. it’s a solid hug, one you’d never object to having. johnny’s large hands rub circles to your back, his bearded chin resting against your shoulder as he sways gently.
simon stands behind johnny, holding eye contact with you as he continued to carefully clean his hands. he raises his eyebrows in thought, before glancing down at his fingernails as he begins to meticulously clean underneath them to rid his skin of all things fish.
“this… kilgöre bloke. i reckon if he’s the one, he’s worth waitin’ for. but don’t think for a second he should get away with leavin’ you this long without so much as a text, yeah? rip ‘im a new one when he comes back.” he advises, glancing back up at you with a slight smirk when he hears you chuckle, your laugh strained with emotion.
he steps closer, carefully tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze better. he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “if he’s the man you think he is, he’ll explain everything if you ask him to. and if he does? great. if he doesn’t?” you wince at the idea, frowning.
he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow.
“then he’s a bloody eejit, as our johnny boy would say.”
#elexaria writes#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#poly!ghoap#poly!ghoap x reader#könig#könig x reader
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the milestone menu: roasted red pepper and tomato soup for sad days
prompt: the death of mikey's anniversary is near. you make a comfort meal for carmen.
contains: mentions of death. angty with a side of fluff (at the end). anxious!carmen (i mean ofc).
INGREDIENTS
3 red bell peppers. 4 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, chopped. An onion, chopped. 2 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 tsp thyme. 2 tsp paprika. A pinch of sugar. Salt & pepper. Cayenne
1/2 cup Chicken broth. 2 tbsp butter. 1 1/2 tbsp flour.
DIRECTIONS
Cover peppers in oil, broil until black, turn to get all sides. Put them in a paper bag to rest, the skin & seeds should come off easily. Chop. Heat oil on med heat in a large pot, cook garlic & onions until soft. Add tomatoes, peppers, thyme, paprika, and sugar. Cook on med-low, until most of the liquid has evaporated, about 20 minutes. Stir in 6 cups of chicken stock, salt & pepper. Bring to boil & simmer for 20 mins, until the vegetables are tender. Strain soup. Use a food processor or blender, and blend solids to your desired consistency. In your large pot, melt butter & add flour. Add soup/purée and stir, simmer for a few minutes.
“Hey, baby,” Carmen’s voice came to you before he did. A heavy sigh, tired and heavy from the day, from the looming anniversary approaching.
Mikey’s death date was creeping closer and closer, the days darker and colder as did Carmen’s demeanor. Longer days at work, distant even when he was home with you. You worried about him, though everyone told you not to.
“He just… he gets like this when it gets closer to the date, you know?” Richie muttered when you’d confided in him at family dinner. “We all get kinda fucked up, but Carm… That’s just how he is, y’know? Just give’im some time.”
Anchovy purred, rubbing against Carmen’s leg. It was almost like he knew. Carmen would swear he did, that he could sense his owner’s upset, that he was trying to make it better. He’s like you, Carmen would say, giving you a half grin that always had you swooning.
Carmen frowned when he didn’t see you lingering about. Not in the doorway smiling at them, leaning in for a kiss, wrapping him in a hug. “Babe?” Carmen called again, looking down the hall. The lights were on in the kitchen, a small clinking of bowls and silverware.
Carmen found you in front of the stove, trying to keep quiet, stirring a pan on the burner gently. “Hey,” He frowned when you jumped, turning around with a wide eyed gaze, like you’d been caught.
“Carm,” You chirped, body shimmying in front of the stove, too close to the flame in a too loose shirt. Carmen fought the urge to tell you to move or tuck your shirt in.
“You’re-You weren’t supposed to be home early.” You turned to the clock blinking on the microwave. “I-I thought you weren’t going to be home for another hour.”
“Richie told me to leave.” Carmen frowned, trying to peer around you.
“Why?” You blocked his view with your body, a side step in front of him.
“‘Cause he’s a fuckin’ jaggoff lately. What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffed lightly, grabbing your waist gently, holding you in place so he could see around you. A large pot on the stove, bubbling to life, steam clouding the clear lid that covered it.
“I’m cooking.” You huffed, shoulders deflating lightly. “I-I was going to surprise you. I had this whole thing planned, and I got candles and I was going to change out of this.” You threw your hands down on your sweatshirt- Carmen’s sweatshirt. One from Copenhagen he’d picked up when it was especially cold. You’d stolen in, not that he minded, he liked you better in it anyways.
“Was going to at least try to look a little nice.” You mutter, wiping off a small stain, a glob of tomato that had flung when the processor lid wouldn’t come off earlier.
“You look beautiful, c’mon.” Carmen shook his head at you. “What’re you- Why’re you doin’ all this?” His heart skipped for a moment, looking at the calendar pinned on the fridge. “Did I- We didn’t have plans?” Fuck, he’d been so busy he’d forgotten. Head everywhere but where it needed to be. First he was fuckin’ up dishes left and right at work, and now he couldn’t even remember a fuckin’ date.
“No,” You shook your head, stilling Carmen’s racing mind. “I just… I wanted to do something nice.” You looked up at him, hands grabbing him sweetly, holding them in your own. “For you.”
“For me?” Carmen whispered, swallowing around the tightness in his throat, in his chest. “What’re you talkin’ about for me? What-Why would you wanna-”
“Because,” You shrugged lightly, hands swinging between the two of you gently. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
Carmen saw the hesitation on your face, knew what was coming before you said it. He tensed in your hold. “I just… With everything-”
“-Don’t.” Carmen shook his head, the burn in his throat strangling his voice. “You don’t have to, baby.”
“I do.” Your eyes met his, rounding in his gaze. “I want to. I-I don’t really think it will help, but… I don’t know. Whenever I was sad my mom would make this for me.” You nod back towards the pot on the stove. “It always made me feel better.”
Carmen thought he might cry. He willed himself, squeezing your hands, pulling you into his chest to hold you. He just needed to hold you, to feel you, pressing his nose to your scalp, inhaling your scent.
All the emotions he’d repressed, swallowed down and tried to power through. Anytime he’d turn the corner, see Mikey’s smiling face on the fall and he’d feel like breaking down. Screaming, crying, punching the walls, pulling his hair out, ears ringing and heart hammering; instead, he’d go to the walk-in to breathe through collapsing lungs.
You felt Carmen’s shaky breath, rattle out of his chest and shake into yours. Your hand rubbed gently against his back, up his spine in a soothing way you hoped would calm him.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, cheeks pressed against his chest. His heart raced in your ear, a pounding thud that made your own heart squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Carm.”
“It’s alright.” Carmen gritted, jaw clenching, willing his tears back. “It’s-it’s just a lot. I don’t even fuckin’ know why. Why-Why I even get like this when-when it’s been so long.”
“Don’t do that.” You shook your head, frowning at him lightly.
“No, no it’s true. I- fuck, I shouldn’t be-”
“-Carmen,” You held his gaze firmly. His red rimmed blue eyes met yours, a little wary, vulnerable. You softened, fingers brushing through his hair. “It’s ok.”
The finality in your voice, soft but certain, it made Carmen’s jaw shake, emotions bubbling over. He held you, rocking side by side in the kitchen, cries muffled into your shoulder. You held him back, just as tight, cooing shushes over the hums of the appliances, his tears wet on his sweatshirt- your sweatshirt.
“Don’t expect a lot.” You gave a small, teasing smile over your shoulder.
Carmen had settled into his usual seat at the small kitchen table. He’d sheepishly wiped his tears, letting you dote on him sweetly. Kiss his tears away, soft lips pressing to his wet cheeks, his nose, pulling him in so his lips were on yours, arms still tangled around the other.
“It’s not, like, gourmet or anything.” You shook your head, ladling out the hot liquid into a bowl. “It is my Nana’s recipe though.”
“Better than gourmet then?” Carmen’s voice was raspy with dried tears, though he smiled lightly. Bright enough to warm your heart, leave you smiling, plating the grilled cheese.
“She’d love that you said that.” You grin, setting the steaming bowl and sandwich in front of him. You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, a hand running down the back of his neck lovingly.
He burned at the simplicity, the sweetness of it all. So loving and affectionate freely, without any strings attached. Mikey would’ve loved you, Carmen was so sure of it.
“This is good.” Carmen nodded, swallowing his spoonful.
“Yeah?” You grinned proudly, positively beaming.
Of course it was good, the best fuckin’ thing he’s ever had. It came from you, so it only made sense it was. Carmen didn’t say that. Instead, he smiled, reaching over for your hand, squeezing it across the table. “Yeah. Amazing. Just what I needed.” He swallowed another wave of tears, happier this time. “Thank you for, uh, for doin’ this.”
“I’m glad you like it.” You propped your head in your free hand, a lopsided, lovey smile that warmed Carmen from the inside out. He knew his cheeks were blushing, tingling pink under your affectionate gaze.
“It’s really good.” Carmen took another spoonful, the warmth spilling down his throat, soothing his chest. “Sorry I came home early and didn’t call. I just… I’ve been out of my mind, y’know? I’m sorry about that too, it’s-it’s not fair to you, and-”
“-Carm,” You squeezed his hand lightly, fingers intertwining with his. “I’m glad you like it.” You smile sweetly.
Carmen nodded, leg still shaking under the table. He didn’t let go of your hand, held it in an iron grip like a lifeline and you let him, thumb sweeping over his inked knuckles calmly.
If Mikey could see him now, he’d be howling in laughter, cackling at Carmen at how “whipped” he was. Mercilessly tease him for being “soft” in a way that only a big brother could. But he knew Mikey would be so proud, so fuckin’ happy that Carmen found you- that Carmen had someone like you.
#the milestones menu#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto angst#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto blurb#anchovy berzatto#richie jerimovich#michael berzatto#mikey berzatto#the bear fic#carmen berzatto fic#thebearerblurbs#the bear fx#the bear hulu
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How well do you Coco could make Ren look like a girl?
'A Lady's Face is Like the Dessert; Everyday she has a Different Face.'
Coco: Jaune, I have an important question for you!
Jaune: What's up, Coco? Hi, Ren.
Ren: Hi, Jaune.
Coco: Now then, let me pose an interesting question to you! How could you make, Ren look more like a girl?
Jaune: Simple: Just make him wear makeup.
Coco: No that's...?
Coco put her hand in her chin as she inspected, Ren's face.
Coco: Actually no, that would have worked, that would have worked very easily...! But, no! That's not how we do it!
Coco: Entirely...
Jaune: Then, how do we do it?
Coco: First off we put up a screen!
Jaune: Eh?
Suddenly, a dividing screen appears, blocking Jaune's vision.
Jaune: What, where did you...?
Coco: Next we strip them!
Jaune: Wha?
Ren: WHAT?!
Jaune suddenly sees, Ren's clothes being tossed over the divider: Down from her shoes to his dress shirt.
Jaune: Uhhh?
Coco: We apply some light make up~!
Ren: Hey, wait?!
Coco: A chop to the throat to readjust the voice~!
Ren: A what?
(Thwack!)
Ren: (Cough cough cough!) The hell, Coco?!
Jaune: D-Did his voice get higher?
Coco: And, lastly we get rid of the bindings~!
Jaune: Bindings?
Ren: Wait, no!
Jaune suddenly saw several Velcro straps flying over the divider. One particular large binding landing his hands. He looked over the binding in his hand, wondering why the hell, Ren was wearing this.
Jaune: Ren, why do you have these things...?
Coco: It's simple, Jaune! How else was he supposed to stay hidden?
Jaune: What the hell are you talking abou...?
Coco pushed the divider aside to show a, Coco with a large smug smile, and standing next to her was a brunette girl with an plump things, and a sizeable chest.
Jaune: Uhh?! W-W-W-What the hell?!! I-Is that...?! Is that you, REN?!
Coco: Ahh-Ah-Ah~! You'd be mistaken there, Jaune! May I present to you, Lie Rin~!
Jaune: R-Rin?! Ren?! No, Rin... AHH?! The hell?! Have you been a girl the whole time?!
Rin: Ahh... y-yeah... I have always been a girl... S-Surprise...?
Jaune: Why?!
Rin: N-Nora thought I was a boy, and it just sorta stuck... but then puberty hit, and I... Well, I just wrapped them up, and... yeah...
Jaune: And, you knew this, Coco?!
Coco: Yep~!
Jaune: How?!
Coco: Woman's intuition~!
Jaune: I'd call bullshit, but I have seven sisters, and a mother who have been using that line on me for years, so yeah.
Rin: I'm sorry for lying to you, Jaune... I just got used to dressing like... like, Ren that I couldn't stop.
Jaune: That's... okay? Wait, Nora obvious knows this. She has an unexpected knowledge on many, many things... It's scary what she knows about...
Rin: Quite scary...
Jaune: But does, Pyrrha know?
Rin: Yeah... I told her after that incident with the Boartusks, and those mud holes.
Jaune: Cause the three of you feel in the mud, and had a shower together?
Rin: Yeah, pretty much...
Jaune: Wait... Shower...?! You've were staring at my junk that day!
Rin: What?! N-No I wasn't!
Jaune: Bullshit! You were looking at me so long that there is no way you didn't see my four inches!
Rin: What, you're not four inches, you're at least seve...?! EEEP?!
Jaune: I fucking knew it!
Coco: Seven inches?! That explains why he refuses to wear speedos...
Jaune: That's it missy! We need to have a private chat!
Rin: Whoa hey, Jaune?!
Jaune grabbed, Rin's hand, and pulled her towards their dorm room. As they were leaving, they walked by, Nora, and Pyrrha who offered, Rin a wave as they walked by.
Nora: So, how did it go?
Coco: Quite well if I say so myself.
Pyrrha: He may be upset, but I'm sure they can work things out.
Nora: Jaune-Jaune may be angry, but they'll be able to work things out.
Coco: Considering how big he was getting, I think they can find several things to talk about~!
Pyrrha: Jaune's seven inches soft you know.
Coco: S-Soft?! Then how big is he?!
NP: Ten inches.
Coco: Holy shit...
Coco: Well, we'll know how well their chat goes, based on how much she'll be limping in the morning~!
Nora: Hehehe~1
Pyrrha: ...
Pyrrha: You want to have a go with him too, don't you, Coco?
Coco: Fuck yes I do!
Pyrrha: do you mind if we...?
Nora: Only if we all do it together...
Coco: ...
Pyrrha: ...
Coco: Fuck it, I'm game~!
Pyrrha: Oh, this is going to be fun~!
#rwby#jaune arc#pyrrha nikos#nora valkyrie#lie ren#coco adel#jaune x ren#ren x jaune#jaune x pyrrha#pyrrha x jaune#nora x jaune#jaune x nora#coco x jaune#jaune x coco#rwby nora’s arc#rwby martial arcs#rwby arkos#rwby french roast#rwby colourguard
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Fish in a birdcage for Rosehip amd Dodwood tho
YES
Bee is not one of the rogues himself, but two of his sons are! Also one of Butterfly's sons, and two of Coal's sons that he had after Fiercestripe left. They aren't really important to the story so they don't get names or anything, but I think that it makes everything a little bit more tragic that Fierce is fighting her nephews who she would have loved to watch grow up and might recognize her from when they were young.
2. Kingfur and Sockeyepelt would both be pretty devastated if Chumtail dies, she's similar to Dashpaw in that she's kinda the mediator between her two more polarized siblings. Really everyone who's up on the chopping block is the most stable of their family, meaning everyone is going to be very NORMAL after this, I'm sure. Also thank you!
3. Yes! There will be stickers of the mediator kids (especially now that you've asked). I'm drawing sketches based on what people have requested, and I'll make a post letting everyone know when they go up. Currently I have Weed, Siltsplash, the Mediator Kids, and some couple stickers in the works.
There were many factors in Fiercestripe's decision. 1. Thorn was 4 moons old by the time Fiercestripe left, so she was well past carrying size (especially with Fiercestripe being a small cat). Even if Wildfirecry could carry her, or she walked on her own, it would slow their pace significantly and require them to take more breaks, leading to the farm cats likely catching them. 2. If Fiercestripe had taken Thorn then the farm cats would have more justification to track them down and forcefully bring them back. It's one thing for a she-cat to leave, it's another for a she-cat to take her mate's kit with her. (part of why the farm cats have made it to loudclan now is because they're chasing a pregnant she-cat). 3. Wildfirecry hadn't agreed for Fiercestripe to come with him. He was a stranger who had stayed a couple nights with the farm cats and was just as likely to turn her away or harm her as he was to allow her to come with him. He would have been a lot less likely to agree to travel with her if she came with the responsibility of a kitten. 4. Wildfirecry and Fiercestripe did not have an easy journey. They didn't have a destination or a set path, they just wandered from place to place for years until they were convinced to join Loudclan. It's pretty likely that had Thorn been brought with them she would have frozen, starved, drowned or been eaten by a predator given that Wildfirecry was the only one with any hunting or fighting skill, and kittens aren't as tough as grown cats. All in all, bringing Thorn along wasn't really an option. Fiercestripe's only choices were leave Thorn or stay with the farm cats and hope that another outsider came along later when Thorn was grown. (Thorn's story is a bit different, Frost and Spider were outsiders who joined the farm cats later in life, so Frost knew how to hunt and fight, thus allowing them to wait for their kits to grow before they left.)
I designed them on my own! I find pretend genetics very fun and it gives me a chance to think more in depth about the rough backstories I have for these characters and how their childhood would have affected the way that we see them act in the story.
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coffee and a lemon slice with lance stroll? rivals to lovers but really everyone can tell he’s in love with her
bakery menu
want to suggest your own order? hit up the menu for all the desserts & other treats. i'm open to different fandoms too if that tickles your fancy! we have a great staff of servers who'll get your orders to you asap!
lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + coffee (rivals au) served by lance stroll (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, rivals-to-lovers, snark & bickering, fluff, counter sex, semi-clothed sex, semi-public sex
you didn't mean to laugh in the face of that reporter. but if they were going to ask such a stupid question then you were going to laugh! to be a woman in the big leagues of formula one meant sometimes being a bitch.
like when you laughed in the face of sky news.
"i'm sorry!" you said, "that was terrible of me. but no, i'm not in some secret relationship with lance stroll! i really appreciate that people stop asking who i am dating, i promise you it's not some loser on the grid. they'd eat my rubber before they kissed me." you laughed once more.
you got a stern talking to the week after in belgium, which had you teammate, max, almost laughing into his fist. as if his head wasn't on the chopping block.
you shoved the current champion, "don't laugh dickhead, it's not that funny."
"they're suggesting media training for you." he laughed as you two walked down the hallway, which made you shove him again.
you glared at max, "well, at least i don't have a bed time, verstappen. what are you, ten?" you waved your arms at him in frustration. which only made him laugh more.
you passed by various people while walking to lunch. but without looking you knew exactly when lance was walking by. it made you staggered in your step a little, but you refused to look at him. you kept your head held high.
max pretended that he didn't notice. but internally smirked, for the one swore off drivers. you did have a massive crush on lance stroll. but, there was no need to fret. lance was obviously into you as well, as apparent by his gaze lingering on you long after you walked by.
the dutch driver slapped you on the back, "well, i guess we're both fucked then." then flashed you a smile. both in regards to how you act in front of media and how your obvious feelings for lance.
it was after belgium that you were face to face with lance. it was a party after the event and you were nursing a beer. your loss was pretty brutal, you were fighting in the back of the grid with the likes of stroll. something you weren't comfortable with.
but he soon joined you in your misery. you froze for a moment before he nudged you in the arm and held out his own drink. you clinked glasses together as he said, "to losers."
you smiled back at him, "to losers." you hated to admit it, but you kind of understood lance. his passion for the sport but also being the face of your country. you on top of it had to live in max's shadow, not that he took glee in it.
"you never look me in the eyes." he said after a sip of his beverage, "you'll always look at everyone else in the eyes. but not me. maybe it's because i'm buzzed as all hell, but.. do you hate me?"
you swallowed, "we're rivals, lance. remember in my first season you said the driver you wanted to go toe to toe with was me? you stated your intentions about me."
he scratched the back of his neck, "well, yeah... why wouldn't i? you usually out position me. you're a killer on the track, of course i'd want to go wheel to wheel. going against you is challenge in itself... driving against you makes the sport fun." he gave a small smile.
you raised your eyebrows at him, "what?"
he nodded, "yeah, it was the media who made us rivals in every headline... i just wanted to be good... like you." he swallowed, his cheeks growing flushed, "nevermind."
you felt your face heat up as well, "i mean, i fucked up this race. so, you could easily catch up." you took another swig of your beer, the acidity of it didn't sit well in your stomach.
"doesn't mean anything. i've seen how you are. you're the best."
"are you hitting on me?" you asked, not too sure where this stream of consciousness series of compliments were going.
there was a beat of silence before he said, "yeah... i found out that apparently everyone knows i have feelings for you.. so i wanted to tell you before you found it out from someone else." he waved his hand a little, "i like you... and i know you don't date drivers. so i get it. i just didn't want to lie to you anymore.
you looked at him in shock, "for real?"
he nodded, "yes, on my life. i am certain." the collar of his button up felt stiffer and sweatier. he ran his hand through his hair, "nevermind, just forget about it. if you hear anything from anyone else, they're lying."
maybe it was the rush of the day's race, maybe it was the sweaty beer, maybe it was the alignment of the stars or the placement of the moon. maybe venus was in retrograde and mars was half price. but you grabbed him by the front of the button up and pressed your lips against him.
you noticed the taste of burt bee's chapstick and melted into the kiss. he put his drink down beside him and took you in his arms. when you parted the kiss, you pressed your forehead against yours and held his face.
"the no driver's rule-"
you sighed, "some rules are meant to be broken, i guess. i just told them that so they'd stop asking. i do hate that they were right. stupid press."
he dared himself to kiss you once more, this time a little softer as your hands curled deeper into his shirt. the kisses continued until you broke and ended up sneaking across the event towards the single-stall bathroom.
you two kissed once more, once you locked the door. he pressed you up against the counter before he picked you up and placed you on top of it. his hands were on your breasts, feeling the flesh through the blouse you wore.
you were beautiful, so painfully beautiful that you felt a surge of pleasure in your gut. when he pulled away, you held his face. you stared into those beautiful brown eyes, "i think we suck at beings rivals." you panted, "i think we should be lovers."
he captured your lips once more, "that sounds like a plan to me." he chuckled, "means i'll finally beat you on the grid."
you pulled him closer, your forehead against his. before you pulled him into a searing kiss, "good luck, stroll." then pulled away to get your pants around your ankle. your blouse was on your shoulders and soon your panties were around your ankle as well.
he admired the sight of you, his cock now in his hand. the washroom was a little cramped but still the space between you two felt too big. you kissed him on the lips as he pressed his cock against your slick pussy.
"i like it when you beat me." he admitted.
"oh yeah, why?"
"because it drives me to be better. one day i'll beat you though." he chuckled, "be the best driver there is." he slowly sank his cock into your cunt. he swore under his breath as he rocked against you. he started to really thrust his hips against you.
you took him to the root and felt the curl in your gut. years of tension finally came to a head and now were in such an intimate position. you said to him, "you could never beat me, lance."
he gripped your shoulders as he moved against you. he said, "one day. one day you'll see me on the podium." he chuckled, "i'll win for us, don't worry." his cock stretched you in a way that you felt the blood rush in your ears.
the entire thing felt painfully erotic.
"well, aren't you a sweetheart." you held onto him tightly and continued to make out with him. he rutted against you, you held onto him and panted heavily through your nose. when he pulled away, you braced yourself with your arms on the counter to give lance the ability to have a better angle.
"i'll be good to you, don't worry. i'll win for you" he panted, his hands on your hips and his eyes on your breasts. he could feel the heat in your body and how the cat got your tongue as he nudged against the back of your pussy, "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making."
you moaned a little louder before you forced yourself to keep it down. you said to him, "i said, good because maybe you'll actually win." you clung to him as he moved against you.
you felt the heat on your exposed back, the feeling of him so close to you was nice. you kissed him on the lips once more as he fucked you. you clawed at his clothed back as he fucked you.
you both felt the heat all over, the thrump of your chest as he buried his cock into you. it was so painfully hot, it left you feeling flushed. the feeling was painfully erotic. you felt a hot passion with lance as you kissed him once more.
you both panted through your noses as you thrusted up against one another. the pleasure was undeniable. you hoped that no one could hear you, but it was too late now. your body yearned for him.
there a bit of praise off of lance's lips when he said, "you're beautiful."
it was no surprise that you both came at the same time and kissed one another to keep quiet. your lips felt desperate against him. the kiss was
he pulled out and got his cock back in his slacks. you panted as you reached over to get your blouse off the counter. the heat was still in your cheeks as you put it back on.
his voice cut through the silence, "do you want to come to my hotel tonight? i'd love to have you on the bed rather than on a counter." he chuckled as he pushed his hair back out of his eyes.
you licked your lips, "i'd love to, stroll. now why don't you lead the way." then winked at him. your no-driver rule was broken, but what you got out of it was the love of your life. <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#lance stroll#lance stroll smut#lance stroll x reader#lance stroll x you#lance stroll x y/n#ls18 x reader#ls18 smut#ls18#aston martin f1#formula one imagine#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1#formula one#formula racing#f1 smut#f1#f1 rpf#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 lance stroll
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Our Future
(a bucktommy mini(ish) fic)
ao3 link or read below
Summary: Buck gets a little reckless at work, and Tommy gets a lot upset.
It had started with the silent treatment when Buck first got home from work. Tommy was fixing dinner, forcefully plucking basil leaves from the stem and tossing them into the pot when Buck came in.
He knew something was wrong right away, especially when he was only greeted with a monotone, “Hello,” and no attempt to move away from the pot that did not actually need to be stirred at the moment.
Buck had walked over to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before going to shower.
Once he was showered and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, he came back out and sat down at the kitchen island, where Tommy was now aggressively chopping lettuce.
“So, how was your day?” Buck asked cautiously.
“Fine.”
“Do anything fun?”
“Not really.”
“Get some rest?”
“Tried to.”
Buck rested his hands on the counter, tapping his fingers a few times before asking his next question. “You didn't... Did you happen to catch the evening news?”
Instead of answering, Tommy stopped chopping the lettuce, put the knife down and went to the fridge to get a cucumber. A thick silence filled the space between them as Tommy washed the cucumber and returned to his cutting board. He picked back up the knife and resumed the harsh chopping.
“I will take that as a yes,” Buck mumbled. He sighed, briefly resting his head in his hands before continuing, “Say something, Tommy. You've got your grumpy face and everything; I know you're mad.”
“I'm not mad,” he answered, obviously mad. “And I do not have a grumpy face.”
“You very much do have a grumpy face.” He tried to meet Tommy's eyes from across the island, but Tommy was avoiding him. “Come on, Tom,” Buck said calmly, patiently, “Talk to me.”
Tommy put down the knife and, for the first time since Buck got home, he looked at him. His eyes were red. It almost looked like he'd been crying.
“I just don't get it, Evan. What would possess you to do that?”
“It's my job,” Buck defended. “It's our job. It's what we do.”
“No. No, what you did was way beyond the job. You know how I know it was beyond the job?” He asked rhetorically. “I know because, when I was watching the news, I could hear Bobby on the live feed yelling at you to not go back in.”
“I- I had to go back in though, Tommy. I had to save him. If I didn't go back in, he would have died.”
“He. Was. A. Hamster!” Tommy replied, emphasizing each word. “You risked your life, for a hamster.”
“Of course I did!” Buck said, as though it was crazy to think he wouldn't go back in. “Tommy, you didn't see that little girl crying. Sh- She just got Georgie a couple months ago for her birthday a- and she took such good care of him. She was freaking out. I didn't really think about it, I just went.”
“That's the problem!” Tommy exclaimed, motioning to Buck. “You didn't think about it. You never think about it. You go, and you run into the fire, and you become the hero, and you never once stop to think about you!”
“Hey, that's not fair-”
“What if the ceiling would have collapsed?” Tommy continued. “What if your exit had become blocked? Or the buildup of smoke got you lost? You never considered those things, did you?”
“I told you I didn't think about it,” Buck replied. His voice was quiet, reserved. He wasn't sure if what he was feeling was anger or shame. Either way, he hated it.
“Well, you should have.”
Okay, now Buck knew it was anger he was feeling. “Oh, thank you for those- those wise words. You've really changed my perspective. You should have,” he mocked, getting up from his seat. He went to head toward their bedroom, every intention to slam the door behind him, but instead he turned back around to face Tommy. “You know, we've been together for two years and never once have you made me feel bad for doing my job! In fact, most of the time, you seem to find it pretty hot.”
“When you're not being careless.”
“I was not being careless! I was saving an animal! I was helping that kid wh- who just lost everything she had.”
“Yeah, well what about us, Evan? What about everything you have? Our future? Our kids?”
All the retorts Buck had prepared suddenly disappeared. He stared at Tommy for a moment, dumbfounded, before uttering out, “Our... Our kids? Tommy, we don't have kids.”
Tommy put his hands on his hips, standing straighter. “No, not yet, but one day we will.”
“You think about that?”
“Of course I do,” Tommy replied as though it should be obvious. “We've talked about having kids someday, Ev.”
“Yeah, I- I know we talked about it I just didn't know you thought about it.” Any hint of anger in his voice had long fallen away.
“Don't you?”
Buck nodded. “Yeah. A lot.”
Tommy took a breath, rubbing his hands over his eyes to try and wipe away some of the exhaustion from the day. He moved around the island, taking a few steps closer to Buck. “I just worry,” he said, his voice faltering. “I worry that one day you're going to run into a burning building looking for a turtle, or a fish, and then I'm gonna have to explain that to our kids. I'm gonna be left,” he paused, “left alone, and I can't- I can't handle that.”
“But what if it's a person?” Buck asked. “How would that be any easier?”
“It wouldn't be easier,” Tommy admitted, “but at least I'd understand it then. Listen, Evan, I love animals as much as the next person but I love you a lot more. I'd like to know that when you're at work, you're there with the priority to come back home.”
Buck moved closer to Tommy. Close enough to reach out and grab his hand. “I can't promise you that I'll never run into a building looking for an animal again. That's just me, you know that. But I can promise you that surviving and coming home to you, and our future children, is always in the front of my mind. Always.”
Tommy nodded, blinking away tears. “Today was, um, it was the first time I was ever home, just sitting and watching the news and there you were. They had a special alert for the fire, and it was just live coverage of everything happening, and there you were,” he took in a shaky breath. “I couldn't do anything but watch and when you ran back in, I- I started counting. It was four minutes, twenty three seconds and I don't think I took a breath that entire time. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it kind of felt like my heart was breaking apart, piece by piece.”
Buck shook his head. “That's not ridiculous,” he said, squeezing Tommy's hand even tighter. He pulled Tommy closer, wrapping him in a hug. “I would've felt the same way if it was you. I'm sorry.”
Tommy rested his chin on Buck's shoulder, closing his eyes. “You don't need to be sorry.”
After they held each other for a moment, Tommy pulled back just enough to look at Buck. “Evan, I don't want you to change who you are. You know that, right?”
“I know,” Buck replied, and it was true. He knew Tommy loved him for exactly who he was, even if he was a little reckless sometimes.
“I just-”
Buck raised a hand to Tommy's cheek, stopping him. “I know,” he assured him. He leaned in, giving Tommy a soft kiss. Tommy sighed into it, the tenseness from the day leaving his body.
“I think we should order out,” Buck said once they parted. “Dinner's starting to smell a little charred.”
Tommy's eyes widened. “Oh God,” he said, rushing over to the burnt pot of food on the stove.
“So, did they say anything about me on the news?” Buck asked cheekily as Tommy turned off the stove and dumped the pot into the sink. “Come up with any good nicknames?”
“Oh, actually, yeah,” Tommy replied. “They were calling you the Rodent Rescuer.”
Buck's face fell. “You're kidding.”
Tommy smiled. “I'm not.” He walked back over to Buck, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. “I prefer Hamster Hero,” he said, smacking Buck's ass playfully as he headed into the living room to get his phone and order some food.
Buck smiled. “I hate you,” he said, plopping down on the couch beside Tommy.
Tommy wrapped his arm around Buck, pulling him to his chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of his head, running his fingers through Buck's hair. “Yeah, I hate you too.”
#911#bucktommy#evan buckley#tommy kinard#tevan#buck x tommy#bucktommy fic#i read over it quickly but im sure there are errors sorry
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Commander Snow; 9
Commander Snow
Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.
Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death, sexual assault
Editor: @hotline-to-hell
chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
When you woke in the morning, the feeling of crushing weight had been released from your chest. The cold mountain air was easy to breathe, and you were now at ease with your loved ones so close.
It had been three weeks since you had escaped. Not a soul had bothered you here. The mountain was too steep and difficult to search.
You felt safe with Edmund here. Like the nightmare was finally over.
Each morning when you woke, Edmund was the first you would look for. You often found him just outside your cabin door by the campfire.
This morning was no exception.
“Good morning,” he greeted. He was chopping large blocks of wood into smaller pieces for the fire.
“Hey. Did you need a hand?” You walk down the steps of the cabin to where he worked.
“Sure. Can you make a pile from the wood?”
You trip over the sole of your broken boot. They were too old to survive the mountains. Edmund stops his work to watch you trot over, trying to kick your shoe back in place.
“I was going to go down later this morning to pick up some more flour, and fruit. I’ll see if Vincent’s daughters have any spare shoes.”
You hated when he went down the mountain to get more supplies. Always sure that he wouldn’t return.
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” you comment.
“Even if they’re not your size, it’d be better than what you got.”
“I meant to go down. It’s dangerous. Peacekeepers are still looking for us.”
“Ah, I’ll be right.” Edmund takes up his work again, swinging the ax down, “They’re looking in the wrong spots anyway. I had Frances tell a guard you were hiding in the canal beneath the wash house. They’ll be searching for weeks.”
You imagine Coriolanus wading through dirty water and laugh at the thought.
“In any case. My shoes will be fine. I don’t want you wasting your money on me.”
“My money? It’s you who got Snow to send the money to your mother. Boy, was I glad to get that letter!”
He stands tall and pulls an imaginary letter out of his pocket, pretending to read it.
“Dear Edmund, I think of you every day. Wishing, wanting, waiting for you to come to me. I dream about how handsome you are. Strong and smart too.”
You laugh at him.
“I think Snow wrote that one.”
He laughs with you but all too soon the mood turns back somber.
“I was really worried about you, you know? We all were."
He reaches out to take your hand into his.
“I was so worried about you!” You twist his hand so you can place a kiss on the back of it.
“I kept thinking about you trapped with him. I had no idea what he was doing to you.”
You knew what he was insinuating and the thought of it made you shudder. You were his. Would he want you less if he believed that Coriolanus had already touched you? Was that why he had reverted to treating you like a kid? He hadn’t touched you like lovers do since you have been here. Was it because Coriolanus had already marked his territory?
You push his hand away, irritated at the thought.
“He didn’t do anything to me.”
He reaches back and brushes over the almost healed bruised spots on your neck. You recoil in embarrassment. The night in the kitchen fills your mind. You felt a pool of embarrassment form in your stomach. You should have hated it all but as you remember it, your legs squeeze tighter. It felt good, and you didn't feel like a victim because of it.
“You know it doesn’t matter. What he did or didn’t do. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Shut up,” you beg. “Let's just agree to never talk about him again. He’s gone, or will be. Dead to the district and to us.”
“Okay,” Edmund agrees. “I am sorry.”
You felt bad for lashing out at him when he was only trying to help. You had promised yourself just days ago to be the best thing that had ever happened to him.
“I’ll go cook breakfast, alright? ‘’
Edmund had caught some fish just yesterday. Even scaled and prepared them for you. And this is how you repaid him?
You go back into the cabin and start to warm up the hot plate in the corner. Coriolanus was far away, yet he still seemed to haunt you. Sometimes you felt his fingertips graze your skin.
He came to you at night mostly, when Edmund wasn’t around to distract you.
You would wake up swearing that you could feel his weight on top of you. You would wake up checking for bruises from where he held you down but your skin was clear.
You thought the clear air would push him out but he was stuck and you couldn’t shake him out.
Would it always be like this? Would your life with Edmund be plagued by thoughts of Coriolanus?
No. You just need to focus more on Edmund. Time would take care of the rest.
You push any other thought apart from cooking the fish out of your head. Preparing the food to perfection would exonerate you from your earlier thoughts.
—-
Nights were colder up in the mountains then at the compound. Edmund lent you a jacket but it did little to keep out the cold. It added to your sleep troubles. Some nights you would only get an hour or two. Some nights you wouldn’t sleep at all.
You toss and turn next to your mother, trying not to wake her. You felt unsettled. Too unsettled to sleep.
Edmund slept on the floor beside you thinking that it might help you sleep.
You found yourself wanting to be held. After nights with Coriolanus you had gotten used to being coddled.
You move off the bed and onto the floor next to Edmund.
“Hey, stranger,” he whispers.
A lazy arm is thrown over you but it isn’t enough.
You push closer. “Tighter,” you demand.
He obliged but it still wasn't enough. Coriolanus would hold you so tight, you felt like it was hard to breathe. You used to hate it but as it turns out you can’t sleep without it.
Edmund smelt nicer. A soft woody smell.
He treated you nicer too. Let you choose what you did. You could be angry with him if you chose to. He wouldn’t seek to punish you for it.
Coriolanus tried to buy your love. Edmund tried to earn it.
You would learn to sleep without needing to be held in time.
In the meantime Edmund would be there to support you.
—-----
You sit with Edmund by the campfire while the others sleep. Edmund had paid a informant handsomely to relay District information. He came once a week, late at night to avoid being caught.
You throw a stick into the fire, your boredom and irritation building the longer it takes.
“Do we have enough money for him to keep coming up here to tell us the same thing? Peacekeepers are still searching, Snow’s angry. I could tell you that.”
“Roger has his use. He only needs to give us one piece of crucial information to make the money worth it.”
“And if we run out before he gives it to us?”
Edmund throws his own stick in the fire, watching it burn.
“We’ll be right. We still have the three panams from Snow. I have a little left in savings, by the time all that runs dry, it’ll be mining season again.
“Mining season? Surely this will be over by then. We can’t hide here amongst everyone.”
“What choice do we have, Y/N? The Peacekeepers haven’t let up. We can’t go back to the District. When you mine together, you become family. They wouldn’t betray me.”
Betray him, sure. But you were no one to them. You open your mouth to argue this point but the sound of kicked rocks draws your attention.
A little man in gray, worn clothing and a cap covering his bald head is lightened by the fire.
“You’re late.” Edmund comments.
“Yeah well, Peacekeepers have doubled patrolling the area at night. I come late or I don’t come at all.”
“Well?” Edmund pushes. He stands up with the coins in his hands.
“Ravenstill’s dead. Snow’s gone back to the Capitol,” the man spits out on the grass before continuing talking, “Saw him get on the train this mornin’ myself.”
You sigh in victory. He was gone. Now all that was left was to wait out the attention span of the Peacekeepers.
“Hold on now. I didn’t say he was staying away. Peacekeeper tells me he’ll be back by the time the week is out with the new Commander.”
“But then he’s gone, right? District 12 can’t have two Commanders?” You rise next to Edmund.
The older man shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe. He’s offering a large reward for your capture.”
“Yeah, well I’m offering your life.” Edmund’s voice is hard and threatening. He throws the coin pouch at the man who catches it.
“Settle, boy. I ain't no traitor. I am just saying it seems unlikely that he would offer up such a price only to walk away.”
“Keep us updated on the movements of Snow and the areas the Peacekeepers are targeting.”
The man opens the coin pouch to look inside before nodding his head and turning back the way he came.
You take hold of Edmund’s arm. You worried for his fate if you were found. You worried for your own fate. He was unbearable when you failed to escape. Now you have succeeded, what laid ahead if you were to return?
—------
You began to have nightmares of Coriolanus finding you. You would wake with your mother's arms wrapped around you, and Edmund calling your name.
The dreams always ended the same, no matter how they started; with everyone dead at your feet.
You would run and hide from him in the forest like the night at the cabin. He would find his way into the cabin late at night and crawl on top of you while your protectors slept. One time he dropped from the sky.
But you woke to find he hadn’t found you yet.
You avoided going to sleep. Your mother joined in solidarity, despite your protests. She would stay up with you to chase the bad thoughts away.
Edmund's mother stayed up too. She didn’t want to be the only adult asleep.
You all wait for the update Roger will bring.
You sit next to Edmund watching the flames. You don’t hear the man approaching until Edmund's mother greets him. The man offers a head nod back but his attention is for Edmund.
“Peacekeepers are still searching. Mainly in the city blocks. Rumor that she was seen selling cupcakes in town.”
You scoff at the thought. At least it kept the Peacekeepers preoccupied.
“Alright,” Edmund throws the money to Roger but the man doesn’t disappear, “Was there something else?”
“Her brother,” your heart stops beating. “They got him locked up in the Capitol jail.”
You shoot up from the log in a panic.
You feel Edmund grab your hand but can’t hear the words that he is telling you.
“It’s alright. It’s alright,” he finally breaks through, “They won’t hurt him. He’s all the leverage they’ve got.”
“God. Edmund, what if they do? It’ll be my fault.” Your tears choke you as you speak.
“They won’t. He’ll be safe, okay. He wouldn’t kill him unless he knew you knew.”
“What are we going to do? I have to go back. He’ll let him go if I-”
“Don’t be stupid. If you go back now, he’ll use Archie to keep you in line forever.”
“We can’t leave him there.”
“We won’t. If he wants the presidency he’ll have to go back to the Capitol. We wait him out, and when the new Commander comes, he’ll see Archie was kept for no reason and we will buy him back.”
Your mother sat sobbing and you joined her.
Dear God, what have you done?
“From what I was told, they ain't hurt him.”
“See?” Edmund says, “So long as you stay hidden, there would be no point in hurting him.”
Edmund’s mother comes over and wraps her arms around her elder son. Archie was special to her too.
You had put all her sons in danger. In her heart, there was no more room for you.
—------------
The news of Archie’s arrest had dampened spirits. The days were long and everyone was irritable.
Edmund feared for his friend. You feared for your brother.
He had spent all his life protecting you, now only for you to get him killed. You wished you were still a little girl waiting by the door for your older brother to come home from work. It was a similar feeling to now. The dread of him not coming home filled you.
You wondered how Coriolanus got him on the train. Was it under threat? Did he beat Archie into submission? Or did he lie and deceive Archie?
Your mother was adamant that his capture was not your fault. Even if that was true, Archie’s detention was. You knew Coriolanus would let you trade yourself for your brother. But Edmund was right, if you folded now your family would always be ready for capture to be used against you.
Edmund’s mother was less sympathetic to it all. You had dragged her family into this and now the boy she considered a third son was rotting in jail because you were too precious to submit to the Commander like the rest of District 12.
She was cold to you, never speaking directly to you and only offering glaring stares. Being treated so terribly oddly felt validating. People should be angry with you. You had put them in danger.
You look at Edmund's little brother across the other side of the campfire. He clung to his mother's skirt, resting his head on her lap. He was just a boy, you couldn’t bear it if a hair on his head was harmed. And yet you have asked him to hide in a mountain with you. Leave his school and his friends behind.
No one had spoken for hours as you sat together around the camp, so when Edmund moved suddenly it caught everyone's attention.
He shoots up from where you rested upon him on the log to gaze out as smoke ringlets circle the sky.
“Get your things. Make sure to leave nothing behind.”
None of you move, perplexed at his outburst.
“Now!” he shouts, “Move!”
His anxiety caused you all to jump up and follow his command. He kicks dirt over the campfire to make it look unused while the rest of you pack what little you have.
You came with nothing so you focused on the pots and pans, and stripping the beds.
He joins you as you work with his mother and brother to clean their room.
“What’s going on?” His mother demands but doesn’t stop her work of shoving clothes into a sack held by her youngest son.
“Peacekeepers are searching the mountains.”
“Where are we going to go?” you panic. They would search all of the mountains.
“The mines. They won’t search there. Too unstable for people who don’t know what they are doing.”
He takes the bag of pans off you and throws it over his shoulder.
The mines were a dangerous place to hide, and there was no certainty that the Peacekeepers wouldn’t search them. If they did you would be trapped. They would just keep pushing forward until your group reached a dead end.
Nevertheless, Edmunds leads the group to the trail that leads into the mines.
You couldn’t decide what would be worse, dying by a Peacekeeper or in a mine like your father.
But with Edmund’s hand in yours, at least the rocks of the mountain would let you keep him. The Peacekeepers would tear you from him only in death.
Even with the bags of stuff, the trail is tread quickly.
The cave is dark and so, so cold. You hide in the shadows with your group. Edmund stands to the front once he has herded the group into safe standing.
It is completely silent for what feels like a lifetime. Nothing but the birds in the trees and the wind. It lulls you into a false sense of security. Maybe Edmund was wrong. Maybe his source on the other side was mistaken and blew the smoke prematurely. But soon a distant sound of heavy tire treads could be heard rolling up the hill.
You ignored the first sign of people approaching. But as they got heavier and the talking got louder, it got harder to assure yourself that you wouldn’t be found.
You clutch Edmund's arms. You feel it move to reach for the pocketknife in his pocket.
Peacekeepers call to each other. They were close, you could hear clearly as they spoke.
“Hey, let's go.”
“Commander Snow said every inch”.
“You lookin’ to get killed? Those mines collapse all the time.”
You hold your breath waiting. Should you walk out now to save everybody else?
“Come on, man. No one’s here. We’ve still got half the forest to get to. Come on.”
You feel Edmund relax under you as the Peacekeepers walk away.
None of you move. The threat remains in the woods. None of you were safe until the Peacekeepers were out of the woods and had reported to Coriolanus that nothing was there.
The mountains were large, you wondered how many Peacekeepers had been spared to search it. Even if thirty men, it would take a whole day at least.
It was a whole day spent in the cave, waiting for the Peacekeepers to come back. But no sound was ever heard.
Night falls before Edmund makes the call to investigate.
His mother kisses him before he leaves.
You cringe under her stare. You had put her baby boy in danger. It was your fault that she now had to hide in the mountains away from her home.
It will be a rocky start once all of this is over. How could you work to earn back her affection after all the pain you have caused her?
Edmund's little brother had taken over the role of protector. He stood at the front of the cave, tall and fierce like his brother had. He clutched his knife and looked out into the night with a hunter's eyes.
Edmund was gone for hours but his little brother never tired of his role. If Peacekeepers turned up, the little boy was ready.
You watch over him as his mother makes what little she can from the food.
A dark figure cast into the cave, and you grab the little boy, pulling him back against you to protect him. It was too tall, too broad for Edmund. You shrink back into the shadows as it approaches, reaching down to pull the knife from the boy. On instinct, you open your mouth to scream but it is Edmund's voice that calls you.
“They are gone. Cars are gone, and there are no markings to pick up the search. They won’t return.”
You shake the fear out of you and release Edmund's brother from your protective hold.
Coriolanus had weaved himself into your mind. Every shadow; every sound was him.
You needed Edmund to take his place, but he often acted like a ghost to you, touching you only in reproach.
You wanted to keep something from Coriolanus' reach. To give some shred of you to Edmund that could never be given back.
You started by hugging him tight.
—---
You had decided to sleep with Edmund at the first opportunity after the scare yesterday.
It was hard to pin him down between his hunting, working around the camp, and his family.
You felt like his shadow as you lingered, trying to single out his attention.
He would offer you a smile every time you saw him but wouldn’t stop his work.
You followed him into the woods but his brother would insist on coming to learn how to shoot.
Back at camp, his mother blocked you from his attention. It seemed impossible to gain an audience with him.
You tried to tell him what you wanted but the words would never form in your mouth. He was always too busy to hear them anyway. Telling you to wait until back at camp to tell him what you were trying to say. But camp was too crowded so you always pretended to forget what you wanted to say.
It took three days of pining before the mothers took the washing to the lake. It would take them all day to rinse and dry the clothes and sheets. Normally you would go and help but today you had a goal in mind.
You hide Edmund’s catch from this morning and tell Edmund’s brother that another animal had run off with dinner tonight. You had asked him to go catch fish but he was determined that he could catch actual prey. He was a hunter like his brother, he insisted.
Whatever got him lost for a couple of hours. He didn’t actually have to catch anything but you hoped he did. You would boast about him at dinner. He was a good kid and deserved more attention.
“Hey,” Edmund greeted you. He had gone to collect more firewood and you had grown impatient waiting for him to get back.
“Where is everyone?”
You don’t answer him. He looked so handsome, slightly covered in dirt from his work.
You wanted this to be the moment you remember forever. If Coriolanus did find you, you wanted to at least have this memory of Edmund.
He looks confused as you grab his arm and pull him into the cabin but follows your direction.
You slam the door shut and push Edmund up against the wall, cementing your body like what had been done to you on so many occasions.
You kiss him hard, letting him know how badly you need him.
He stills you with a firm grip on your shoulders, tilting his head higher out of your reach.
“What are you doing?”
“I want it to be you. Not him.” Even on your tippy toes, you could not reach him.
“Not now,” he scolds.
“Yes now,” you refute, “I can feel him getting closer every day.”
Edmund looks down upon you, taking your face gently in your hands.
“You’re safe. He’s not going to get you. I’ll keep you safe.”
You knew he would try but you felt Coriolanus in your bones. You knew he would catch you.
“Please,” you whine. Your hands reach for his belt but he traps your hands.
“You are not going to give me this under threat. He’s not going to persuade you to do something you’ve had the past few years to do yourself.”
“I want to,” you protest. You manage to capture his lips again and he mercifully kisses back.
His barrier was weak. You were sure you could break it down. His hands held your hips and not your wrists, almost giving you permission.
“Edmund! Edmund!” The sound of his little brother's voice was heard only seconds before the door opened.
You separate. Edmund looked almost relieved. He eyes you by his side but gives his attention to his brother. You had broken down his wall but he was saved by the bell.
“Look!” the little boy proudly held up a small dead rabbit. You wished you insisted on the fish.
“Good job, buddy.” Edmund moves from you to his brother, straightening his jacket as he walks.
“I’ll help you dress it.” Edmund doesn’t look at you as he leads his brother back out to the open.
“I can do it!” The little voice demanded.
“I know, buddy. But we can’t afford to lose any meat.”
You could cry at the sense of rejection. Edmund wouldn’t give you another opportunity. You had just wanted to show that you loved him but he would have to settle for words.
—----
You were cold to Edmund the following days, even as you tried to let it go. You wouldn’t look at him as you passed him his meals. Would only speak to him to answer a question. You wouldn’t say more than what was needed.
He still slept on the floor next to you despite your behavior.
You knew he was trying to protect you by his rejection but it stung.
Coriolanus had made you feel desirable. He performed extraordinary measures just for a kiss. And here you were throwing yourself at Edmund, begging him for just that, only to be tossed aside.
Was Edmund's affections real or just a product of Coriolanus interference?
You felt stupid for making the first move. You should have just forgotten the whole thing. Edmund was loyal. He just got confused, and you played the fool. Now you had put him in an uncomfortable situation that could risk any relationship with him after this ordeal.
You loved him but you should have stayed silent about it.
Half of you hoped that Coriolanus would find you and take you away. Maybe Edmund would feel guilty about his rejection, and regret it.
You roll over in bed towards where Edmund is lying on the floor.
No, that’s not true.
You’d rather be Edmund’s doormat than Coriolanus' bride.
—---------
Coriolanus stood backstage at the presidential show. They would perform now for the audience. Answering questions, and charming the crowd. Coriolanus should feel on top of his game. He was known for being charming. It was all he had for the longest time.
Augustus stood at the other side of the stage, Coriolanus could see him through gaps in the curtains talking to his campaign manager.
Coriolanus couldn’t bear to talk to anyone until he was forced to.
His thoughts were occupied with you. All of the District was searched, and all he received from it was rumors. A few whispered leads but nothing to truly go on.
He needed to shake you out so he could focus on his night.
He hated you now more than ever. It was one thing to betray him, it was another to interfere with his presidential campaign. You should have been here now to support him.
But instead, you had run off with another man. He should have killed Edmund when he had the chance. Coriolanus had kept him as a pawn but Edmund had turned himself into a knight.
Lucky was warming up the crowd to introduce the candidates. Coriolanus couldn’t be thinking of this now. You were here. You had gone back to the apartment and he found you there. There was no hole in the fence Peacekeepers failed to find, and Edmund was dead.
When he went back to the Snow penthouse tonight, he would find you there. Drinking tea with Grandma’am and Tigris.
Coriolanus hears his name being called and he enters the stage with a smile.
District 12 was a small place, you couldn’t hide forever. Coriolanus would take the first train back tonight and follow every lead himself.
—----------
You were adding spices to the stew when wildflowers popped up under your face.
Edmund stood behind you with a shy smile.
“I am sorry. Please stop being angry with me,” he begs.
You take the flowers from him to show you are not hostile.
“I am not angry. I just-” you pause your words unsure on what to say, “You haven’t kissed me or even really touched me since I’ve been here. If you don’t feel the same way that's fine, Just-”
“You’re really stupid. You know that?” he cuts you off. He takes a step towards you. You take it as an invitation to place your hands on his arms.
“I’ve loved you since I can last remember. And you take me giving you a little space after you’ve just spent a ridiculous amount of time as a hostage to a man who thinks torturing is the same thing as courting, as a sign I ain't interested?”
You kiss him gently and he allows you to. Your heart swelled under his words. He loved you.
“I meant what I said though. I ain't touching you under threat. When the time’s right, and it’s just the two of us, I’ll give you anything you want. But allow yourself to heal first. I don’t want you to regret anything.”
You kiss him again to show your gratitude.
“Thank you. I am sorry, Edmund. I love you.”
“I love you too, stupid.”
Coriolanus shakes Lucky Flickerman's hand as the crowd cheers for him. Presidency was close even if you were far.
—------
Despite not having a choice, camp life was agreeable. You worked closely with Edmund, helping him where you could and supporting him where you could not.
Your mother seemed happy too, despite her son being in the Capitol jail. But plans were already forming to get him out. And he was safe, or at least relatively safe. You had no idea what he faced but you knew it would not be death. Not yet. Not without Coriolanus knowing that you knew what had happened to him.
The new Commander of District 12 was sworn in yesterday. Coriolanus was there to hand over the title. Roger had said he seemed uptight and disinterested in the affair. You were sure Coriolanus would be gone soon.
Back to the Capital where he belonged. An air of victory floated around you. He would be president and you would return to District 12 where you belonged, but as Mrs. Flair.
You no longer had nightmares of Coriolanus. Soon this memory would fade into a distant dream.
But it all happened so fast; a loud banging noise woke you, and dozens of pairs of boots stomped across the floor. Edmund woke too, tried to fight them off but there were too many of them. All in protective gear and all with weapons.
They drag him and your mother out. None of the Peacekeepers touch you even as you hit and yell.
It was early morning, the sunlight had just been cast over the mountains but the ground was still frozen and wet with condensation.
Edmund and your mother were thrown on the ground and held down while their hands were cuffed behind their backs. Edmund's mother and brother soon followed.
You grapple with a Peacekeeper trying to cuff Edmund's hands. He does his best to avoid you but no one pulls you away. Your hands remain free and none of the Peacekeepers make a move to trap you.
“Please,” you beg amongst the crying and Edmund’s yelling.
You almost don't recognize him. His hair had grown out, and he wore an expensive red coat instead of his Commander uniform.
But his eyes remained the same. Blue and fierce they gazed down at you. You had run straight past him without noticing.
You rush to him in panic, falling at his feet and grabbing his black pant leg in a tight hold.
“Coriolanus, please,” you beg him, “Please I’ll go back. Just release them.”
He ignores you. Nodding to a Peacekeeper who takes a long length of rope from his belt and throws it over the branch of a tree. Another two bring Edmund to his feet, pushing him as he resists.
His mother wails, joining your begging.
“No! No! Wait please!” They continue to set up the rope.
“Coriolanus, please!” you had time to beg as the Peacekeeper does the knot.
He continues to watch Edmund, listening to Edmund's insults rather than your cries.
“Commander, please. I won’t ever do it again. I’ll be perfect.”
He still ignores you. Not even glancing at you as you beg him from the dirt.
“No, no.” The Peacekeeper finishes the knot and fastens it around Edmund's neck.
You go to reach him. You would hold him up if you had to, but Coriolanus caught you by your hair and held you in place.
Edmund kicks like a fish out of water as the rope is pulled by two Peacekeepers on the other side.
You pull against Coriolanus' hold, almost yanking your hair out trying to reach him.
Edmund looks at you as he struggles. His hold body shook, and he kicked at the air in hope. His lips half form your name but it never quite parts from his lips.
Coriolanus does let you go but it was too late. Edmund had stopped kicking. Stopped blinking. Stopped breathing.
You run to him anyway, dropping where he hung.
You reach out and touch his foot as it sways.
“Kiss your mother goodbye, and let’s go.” His voice shoots ice down your spine.
You wanted to scream and yell and cry, but you could do nothing but stare at the dirt in front of you. The sound of crying filled your ears. Dear god, this was all your fault.
Coriolanus doesn’t ask you again, just grabs a fistful of hair and yanks you to movement.
You felt too disorientated to fight back.
He drags you past Edmund's crying mother and brother who couldn’t tear their eyes away from the tree.
You wanted to reach out to say something, but Coriolanus was in a rush to get back to the Capitol.
“Mum,” was all you could call out as you pass her.
He drags you along to a parked patrol car and throws you in the cage used for rebels.
It felt as if the earth had swallowed you whole. There was no fight left in you. All you felt was despair.
Coriolanus had no pity for you. He barely glanced at you as he locked the cage and closed the door.
You lay in the back in your borrowed nightdress and Edmund’s jacket. You bring it up to your face as you sob. He was dead. All hope of a happy future was gone with him. You would remain Coriolanus’ slave until the day you died.
The journey throws you around as they speed down the hill and back to the city section of the District.
You sob the entire way. Edmund was dead because of you. Your brother was in jail. Your mother is now all alone in this world. You wanted to die too. It would be kinder than this existence.
Edmund was dead because of you. His family left without their provider because of you. Your heart ached. Your grief suffocated you. You gasp for air but your sobs block any from reaching your lungs.
What have you done? Why did you think you stood a chance of escape?
You begged the universe to turn back time. You wouldn’t go to the jail. You were trying to do the right thing but your kindness had led to your world being ripped apart.
Why did you have to do it, you thought to yourself. Life could have been so sweet if you weren’t so foolish.
What would your life be like now? Coriolanus wouldn’t be taking you back to the Compound now there was a new Commander. Were you going to the Capitol so soon?
You had a hard time adjusting to life at the Compound. How would you ever survive the capital?
Would you survive the Capital? After Coriolanus had finished with you, would he keep you around after you had betrayed him?
He seemed a different man. Could he still say he was in love with you? Or has that game now ended?
The car stops at the train station. Talking and car doors slamming cut through the business of the station.
The harsh light enters when the door is yanked open by Coriolanus.
You don’t want to get out, hoping to get shot for your resistance.
Coriolanus drags you out by your ankle, taking a tight hold of your arm as he gets you upright and pushes through onto the train.
You don’t struggle against him as he leads you through the busy station. What would be the point?
You enter first class, and the doors get locked by maids behind you.
The only word you can say is “no”, over and over again.
This couldn’t be happening. Was this just another bad dream? Please, just let this be a bad dream.
Coriolanus shoves you into a booth, and you slump against the window. He sits next to you trapping you in. You had no energy to move. Only sob against the cold glass.
You should have just saved yourself the trouble and stayed. Why did you have to anger him?
With the most important passenger on board, the train moves out of the station.
“Enough,” he tells you. But you couldn’t follow his command even if you tried.
You watch the District shoot past you. How you wished you could open the window and throw yourself out.
The rocks pass, and the trees begin to blur into one another. Coriolanus is silent for hours as you cry against the window still.
You could feel him sometimes looking at you but otherwise, he just sat there. Fixing the jewelry he wore. A gold pinky ring with your ring stacked on top of it. His coat buttons were dipped in gold. He had a new watch, a present from Tigris for returning home.
It was only when you shifted from the window and slumped over the table did he speak.
“We were supposed to be in the Capitol weeks ago.”
The Capitol. His presidential run. You had just lost everything you had ever known and he talks about being behind schedule.
You sit up to face him. He was no longer the Commander you knew but something far more fearsome.
“You think I care about the Capitol?!” You cry, “You took everything from me! You ruined my life,” you scream at him.
He grabs your jaw in his hand and pushes your head back against the glass. The glass is solid and cold as you are pressed against it.
“Your mother has joined your brother in the District 12 jail. I would be very careful what you say to me. Did you think this was a game? Did you think I wouldn’t search for you? Wouldn’t find you?”
The door slides open and Coriolanus releases you. A servant walks in with breakfast, and another behind her with juice and pastries.
They set the food and cutlery down in silence. You notice they don’t look up or around, only at what they are doing.
Coriolanus doesn’t thank them as they leave. He doesn’t eat either.
“Coriolanus, are they going to be okay?”
“We could have just left, Y/N. No one had to get hurt.”
You turn back to the window as you speak, “I know.”
The food sat at the table for five minutes untouched before Coriolanus called for it to be taken away again. The servants come quickly and the food is taken away in the same manner it was delivered; quickly and silently.
“It’s three days to the Capitol.” he stands up as he spoke to you, “Two days after that they will announce the new president of Panem. Whatever this is, it’s finished. You do the slightest thing to displease me and your family will follow Edmund.”
You flinch at his name. Edmund would haunt you for the rest of your days. You hoped he would.
“Do you understand me?” he asks.
“Yes, Commander.”
He flinches at the name but doesn’t comment. He clears his throat and walks away into the other carriage.
You pick up on your crying again. You should have known that your rage only ever backfired on your loved ones.
Your throat ached and your eyes were puffy, soon you had no more tears left to cry.
You try a door to see where it leads but it must have a sensor on it because it didn’t open as easily as it did for Coriolanus. He had trapped you in the room. This was your life now. Waiting for Coriolanus to decide what to do with you.
You curl up on the seat and let the train lull you to sleep.
The servants must have come back in during your nap for when you woke the table was filled with food again. A large jug of water sat on the table. You finish all of it and lay back down again.
Coriolanus returns much later, around dinner time.
“You’re still there,” he observes as the door lets him through.
“Where else could I go?”
His hand presses a large button and what you thought was a wall slides to reveal a bedroom.
“You should wash up for dinner. You have dirt all over you.”
You did want to take a shower, but you didn’t want to lose Edmund’s jacket.
Coriolanus steps forward to grab you, but you rise upon seeing him move. Nothing he said was ever a suggestion.
The room was large, with a queen-sized bed decorated in a rich, heavy fabric of deep blue. There were four large pillows and a set of smaller ones with the Panem emblem on them.
A wall was built to hang clothes. You could only see three sets of Coriolanus’ clothing and a dress and a nightgown for you.
On the other side, there was door to a spacious bathroom. You had thought the commanders apartment bathroom was impressive but now you could see why the Capital looked down at the districts.
This bathroom alone was almost as big as the bedroom in the Commander's quarters. Beautiful gold and white titles lay across the floor. A white marble sink with a gold tap. You reach out to touch it.
‘‘Take your clothes off.” Coriolanus demanded. He reaches for the buttons on his own shirt causing the panic to rise in you again.
What would it matter what he did to you? But still, you felt too frozen to move.
He gets halfway through the buttons on his shirt to see you still dressed. His eyes darken as he reaches out to you.
You shrink back against the marble countertop as he yanks Edmund's jacket from your shoulders and throws it to the ground. Your eyes follow it there, as Coriolanus slips your borrowed nightdress off.
You expected more of a reaction from him after all this time. But he seems uninterested in your naked body. He takes your arm and pulls you to the shower head where he fiddles with the tap until the water is to his liking.
He throws you under the hot water while he finishes undressing. The clothes are left on the floor as he joins you in the shower.
You move out of his way to let him have the water but he pulls you back under and reaches for a soft sponge hanging against the wall.
“Look at you,” he mutters. He scrubs the sponge under your nails to get rid of the dirt that had caked under them.
Satisfied he scrubs the sponge up your arms to your neck and down your back. He scrubs too hard. It feels as if he is peeling off your skin.
He is quick along your stomach. Not spending too much time before moving on.
You flinch when he crouches down to scrub at your legs but he stops mid-thigh and returns to full height, dragging the sponge up your leg and resting on your left hip.
“Are you going to do it now?” It was important that you were clean for him, you supposed.
He drops the sponge, using his hand to wrap around your throat and force you back into the glass.
You don’t look at him as he stares at you. He steps closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and bring you against him.
He rests his forehead against your collar bone, the steam filled the air and fogged your view. He is so still and silent. He had made no move to grope you. You couldn’t tell if he even looked at you. He just held you close and breathed deeply.
The room became hard to breathe in as the water turned into steam. But you were too scared to voice even that complaint. He moved from your collar bone to rest his chin on your shoulder but then went still again.
“Coriolanus?” His name was barely a breath on your lips.
“I am so angry at you,” he said softly. You feel the hand on your throat tighten.
“How could you do that to me?’’ He lifts his head off of you to look you in the eye.
“Augustus has been opening hospitals and amongst the Capitol people, while I have been chasing you around District 12. Do you have any idea how that made me look?’’
You think of your family in jail as you speak. “I am sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Not good enough.”
He looked so different with his blonde wet hair pressed down on his forehead. The ends curled slightly towards his face.
“You won, Coriolanus. What more do you want from me?”
“I don’t feel as if I have won. I feel as if I have been betrayed.”
Your eyes twitched with irritation. He felt betrayed? You were astonished you that he felt like the victim after causing you so much pain. He was the only bad thing to have happened. The cause of his own misery.
“You killed Edmund,” you sobbed, “You killed him.”
You bring a fist against his shoulder, but it landed without true force.
“I let him live once. Remember?”
The memory of target training at the train station flashes through your mind before you could block it.
“What made you think I would make the same mistake twice?”
He releases you to turn off the tap. You stood frozen as he dries himself.
His anger had lit yours so when he exited the bathroom, you followed, wet and dressed only in a towel.
“Edmund was a good man.”
Coriolanus was readying himself for bed. He spared you a irritated look.
“And now he’s a dead man.”
His sentence stung you.
You wiped the running tears off your eyes. “He was a good man,” you repeat.
He was the only man for you. The love of your life, now dead and gone.
“How did you know? Did Roger rat us out?” you ask.
“You did,” you wait for him to elaborate as he dresses in his pajamas, “Your letter to your brother. People disappear all the time up there.”
You feel your heart drop at his words. A new wave of guilt comes crashing over you.
“He was smart hiding there. He knew the area well. And the smoke signals? Very good. I never did find out who was sending them, but what use are they if you don’t see them.”
Was. Knew. No more.
“Well enough to fool my Peacekeepers, but I thought, why would she put that in a letter to her brother? Unless it was to warn him. Why else tell him not to come back? You love your brother, of course you would want him back.”
Tears well in your eyes again.
“Is he okay? Have you hurt him?” you accuse.
“It would serve me no purpose to hurt him.”
His movements are hard and sharp as he puts on his satin button-up shirt.
“So you’ll release him? Both of them?” They served no purpose to him in the Capitol.
“When I can trust you again.” He spat.
It could be years before a paranoid Coriolanus decided he trusted you.
“You can trust me. I promise. I’ll make it up to you, just please let them go.”
You walk over to him, reaching out to touch him. It normally worked to disarm him. He is receptive to you, taking a hand and placing it against your face.
“You know why I can trust you? Because I have your family locked in a cage.”
He disappears along with his touch, going over to the cupboard and throwing a deep blue matching nightgown on the bed.
He says nothing else before returning to the dining room and leaving you in the bedroom alone.
You cry as you dress, and don’t stop as you throw the small pillows across the room and sink into the mattress.
Everything you did was wrong. People were hurt because you weren’t smart enough to protect them. Your mother and brother sat in a dirty jail cell, and you had put them there.
They bore the consequences of your stupidity.
Your mind ran and ran with your anxiety. Images of your mother and brother being beaten in a small cell. Edmund’s family slowly starving to death without him. The memory of Edmund as he swayed from the rope.
You wallow in bed for an hour before Coriolanus rejoins.
You feel him slip into bed beside you. He wraps his arms tightly around you and for the first time in months you fall asleep easily.
You woke the next morning with the feeling of crushing sadness.
Coriolanus was awake next to you. You could hear him practicing a speech as he laid beside you. You don’t move. You weren’t even sure if you could.
A knock on the door stops him, and he bids the person to come in.
You don’t have to look to know it was a servant with a breakfast tray.
Coriolanus reaches for your shoulder to turn you over. You follow his direction and he props a pillow up behind you so you could sit up.
You thank the person as they put a small table over your lap.
You felt nauseous just looking at the food. But asking them to take it away may cause trouble for them so you wait until they leave to reject the food.
You place the table on the floor and roll back onto your side. Your bones felt like cement, and your eyes welled with tears but you didn’t have the energy to cry.
Coriolanus said nothing to you as he eats.
He mutters his speech between sips of coffee. Soon that was finished too, and he rose for the day.
He crosses your eyesight as he approached the wardrobe, and you watch him dress. It seemed odd to see him in anything other than his Commander uniform.
You had never seen Capitol fashion before. It was full of layers and tiny details. The buttons on his shirt had a silver swirl design that caught the light. His shirt was crisp and white with a design of two black flowers on either side, reaching from the end of the shirt to his shoulders.
“I have some work to do. Interviews and thank you letters. So, if you decide to come out be quiet.”
You had no plan to leave your spot, but you nod in understanding.
He doesn’t look or speak to you again as he leaves the room.
You felt as if you had died too. There was no life in you anymore.
You lay for hours in the same spot. Occasionally you could hear Coriolanus as he spoke.
The weight on your shoulder caused it to ache but you couldn’t make yourself move.
The only time you shifted during the hours was when the servants returned to serve you lunch. They took the dirty dishes but also the dirty laundry.
You lunch up to stop the women carrying out Edmund’s brown coat.
“Wait, please!” you grab the worn material off her, “Not this. Leave this.”
The two women look between each other, unsure.
“Mr. Snow said to take everything.”
You swing the jacket over you, positioning yourself in it.
“He didn’t mean this.” Edmund’s faint scent lingered on the fabric. He gave it to you to keep warm at night. You had come to associate it with the feeling of protection.
The young girl bows to you and the other follows suit. As they leave, you know it’s to tell Coriolanus.
You sit and wait for him on the bed.
Coriolanus storms in not moments later.
“The jacket,” he demanded.
“No, Coriolanus. Please let me keep it.”
He launches at you, tearing at the jacket trying to pull it off you. You fight against him, cementing your arms to yourself and trying to wriggle free.
He gets it half off your shoulders. But he grew too frustrated to finish the job. He pulls you up towards him by the collar of the jacket.
“Take the jacket off or I’ll tell them not to bother feeding your mother tonight.”
Edmund was right. Coriolanus was always going to use your family as a weapon.
But the needs of the living overtook those of the dead. You had to make sure they were as safe as you could make them.
He gets off you and you get up to give him the jacket.
As he takes the jacket with one hand, he smacks you with the other.
You make a startled sound but Coriolanus is gone before you finish it.
You return back to your spot and sob into your pillow.
With the jacket now gone, you had truly lost every piece of Edmund.
And with him, you have lost every piece of yourself. Only Coriolanus remained.
————
Three hours after lunch, Coriolanus came to sit on your side of the bed next to you.
“I’ve brought you a cup of tea.”
“Thank you. I don’t want tea.”
Coriolanus’s face is tense as he places the cup on the table next to you.
“They tell me you didn’t have lunch either. Is that your plan? To starve yourself to death before we reach the Capitol?”
“I have no plan,” you admit.
“Well I do. I have lots of plans, and you’re through with delaying them. So Sit up and drink your tea.”
He reaches out to your neck to help you sit up. The tea is placed into your hands but it is him you stare at.
“You look so different.”
His hair was a soft white color as it grew out. His clothes were fashionable and colorful. Nothing of the District 12 Commander remained.
He runs his fingers through his hair, combing it back.
“I am still the same.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” You didn’t think it was possible but he was colder, held himself with somehow more confidence. This was the new leader of Panem.
“What would you know? You never bothered to get to know me.”
“I think I know you better than anyone else.”
He showed you parts of himself you were sure he hid from others. The nightmares. The secret yearning to be taken care of. The heartbreak he carried from the loss of his mother.
“Think, think, think. What have I told you about thinking? You’re no good at it. I’ll do it. Now drink your tea.”
You take a sip of the scalding tea. It quenches some of your thirst.
“Will I ever go back to District 12?” you ask.
You weren’t really sure you would want to.
“No.”
“What’s going to happen to me once we reach the Capitol?”
He sighs, ‘‘That depends on you.”
“Will it be like the compound?”
He laughs humorlessly, “Nothing is like the compound.”
“I meant being locked indoors.”
“Will I let you roam free around the Capitol? No.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks. His eyes move around the room, looking at the subtle details.
“But if you are well-behaved, and do enough to earn it, I will show you all the Capitol has to offer.”
His eyes move down, back to you.
“You’ll grow to admire the Capitol. You won’t hate it forever.”
You go to refute his statement. Nothing in the Capitol could fill the gaping hole left in you from being torn from your home and family. But a servant knocks on the door, taking Coriolanus’s attention.
He commands them to come in but the small girl only steps upon the threshold and never through it.
“Sir, you have a call.”
“I’ll be right there.” He answers back.
She bows and doesn’t rise until the door is shut again.
“Duty calls,” you taunt.
“Yes.” His eyes are back to being everywhere but on you, “I want that tea finished before I get back.”
As soon as he leaves, you get up and pour the tea down the bathroom sink.
—----
The next morning was the same. You laid in bed for hours, unmoving.
Only this morning they didn’t bother to bring you breakfast. You wondered if you would have eaten it, if it was offered, but your guilt still felt so heavy.
Lunchtime came around and Coriolanus disrupted your wallowing.
“Get up. We reach the Capitol soon.” He orders.
He plucks a dress off the rack and lays it across the bed, just under your feet.
It was a blush pink satin gown that tied in a low ribbon at the back. Matching heels that wrapped around your ankle were placed on the floor below.
You sit up to touch the fabric of the dress, and Coriolanus sneaks behind you with a hair brush.
He begins to untangle your hair but he pulls it too harshly. You could feel the tender spot on your head from where he had pulled it just two days before.
“There will be cameras when we step off the train. Fashion is very important in the Capitol. You’ll have to get used to not wearing the same dress every day.”
He pulls a knot too harshly and you let out a cry of pain.
His hand moves yours from the spot and massages it gently.
“That wouldn’t have happened if you had gotten up at some point.”
He returns the brush to the carry bag and returns to you, holding out his hands.
You take them and he pulls you up out of the bed.
His hands move to your nightdress and he pulls it off to place the pink satin gown over your head. He spins you around so he can tie it in the back.
“Put on your shoes and meet me outside.”
He places a kiss on the back of your shoulder before leaving you.
The shoes are hard to walk in. While not overly tall, the heel itself was narrow. Trying to walk felt like a balancing act. You could only manage small steps.
Coriolanus sat at the booth looking out of the window.
The landscape had changed from long stretches of dry dirt to tall buildings.
You sit down opposite him and gaze out the window at it all.
It seemed unreal.
Every building shined. The Panem flag was hung wherever possible. The sky seemed extra blue.
You had never felt homesick but now you realize why Coriolanus was so eager to get back home.
The scenery disappears as you enter a tunnel and stop at your destination.
Your hand is tugged as Coriolanus heads to the exit with the servants and the bags just ahead of you.
You could hear a commotion as you got closer. Voices overlapped and snapping sounds of flashing cameras joined the noise.
The lights were blinding as you exited the carriage.
Coriolanus seemed in his element. He waved and smiled as he lead you through the sea of cameramen and reporters.
They all shouted at him as they held microphones up to his face. But he didn’t stop to make a comment.
More people surrounded the outside. Peacekeepers made a path to a sparkling black car with their bodies blocking the crowd.
He was hailed a king here, and a tyrant back in District 12. All for the same thing.
The scene was overwhelming. Not only were you in a foreign place without your family, but you felt yourself suffocating amongst the crowd. If one were to break through, the rest would follow ending in a catastrophe.
You were a stranger, an enemy. You did not belong here.
You wanted to turn back to the train but Coriolanus’s hold prohibited such action.
Someone opens the car door for him and he lets you enter first.
The silence that greets you helps to settle your nerves. With a final wave, Coriolanus joins you in the car, and it takes off from the crowd.
He sighs and readjusts his jacket so it falls in front of him.
Your hands shake so you keep them clamped together on your lap.
Coriolanus doesn’t speak to you as you peer out the window.
You felt as if you had stepped onto another planet.
The streets were colorful, both in design and people. Cars gilded next to you and in front of you. There were statues and water fountains on every corner.
All gained from the hard labor of the Districts.
Still, you couldn’t take your eyes off the passing scenery. You are hypnotized for the 20 minutes that the car drives. But it soon stops in front of a large brick building.
“Do you live here?” Was this your new home? You wondered.
“No one lives here,” he answers shortly.
He exits the car, holding the door open for you. Following him out, you hear the voice of a man greet Coriolnaus.
“Mr. Snow. Welcome.”
The man was a little overweight in a suit that was finely tailored to him. He had bleached his eyebrows and mustache, and wore many pieces of jewelry.
“Thank you for meeting with us.” Coriolanus shook the man’s hand but returns it to yours as soon as it ended.
“Of course, Mr. Snow. We were happy to accommodate you. Please, follow me.”
The man leads you both into the building and through the halls but only talks to Coriolanus about the history of the building.
It was a beautiful building that housed artwork and portraits along the walls.
You could tell Coriolanus didn’t care but remained civil. His fingers squeeze yours as he is ushered into a room.
Like everything in the Capitol, it is unnecessarily large and grand. Gold candle holders, rows and rows of pews made of expensive wood, oil painted artwork of important men loomed down at you.
“Just over this way, if you would please.”
The man leads you to a table on a small front stage. There was only one chair in front of it which Coriolanus pulls out for you.
The man passes Coriolanus a pen and tells him where to sign.
He does so quickly and elegantly.
“And now for you, Madam.”
Coriolanus passes you the pen but only small writing covered the page and you were hesitant to sign it.
“What is this?” You look up to the man, who rocked slightly side to side.
“It’s a marriage certificate.” Coriolanus answered for him.
“Marriage?”
Did marriage in the Capitol have the same meaning as marriage in the Districts? What did marriage in the Capitol truly entail and why was Coriolanus so eager to have you sign it?
“Yes. Marriage. Now sign the paper.” His hand curls around yours so you don’t drop the pen.
“Coriolanus-” Your words are cut short when his hand latches itself under your chin and yanks it up, keeping your hand directed at the paper. He forces your hand closer to the line.
“Sign the paper,” he commands. With his hand enclosed around yours, you sign your simple signature next to his cursive.
He releases you once you do.
“If you wanted a wedding then you shouldn’t have run off.” He spat at you.
Your hands shake uncontrollably and your eyes water but no sympathy is given by either man.
“You’ve robbed the Capitol of the wedding of the year, truly!”
“I think the Capitol will survive.” You feel Coriolanus tug you up, and the man follows his lead out the door.
“I am sure you are eager to get home and rest before election day.” the man spoke. His voice echoed through the large halls.
“May I just say what an honor it was to marry you two today! You two kids will set a trend. I’ll have young lovers knocking my door down to elope.”
You sob at his words.
“Forgive her. The journey was long.”
“Of course.”
With only three more steps until the door, the conversation died.
Coriolanus is quick in pace, and propelled you to move faster than you could in your heels.
You could hardly see through the tears in your eyes, so you reach blindly until you feel the car underneath your fingers.
“Thank you, sir.” He shakes hands with the man once again.
“Anything for our future president.”
Coriolanus opens the door and guides you inside as he says goodbye to the man.
He allows you to cry until the car pulls up outside of the apartment, at which he tells you to stop.
He pulls a handkerchief out of breast pocket and wipes the tears from your face as they fall.
From the outside you could hear the driver collecting the bags from the boot.
“You need to stop crying. We are home now.”
You take the handkerchief off him and dap your own tears. He longingly stares out the window.
He almost bounces in his seat. Eager to get up the stairs and back home.
Marriage is not the worst thing to have happened to you, nor the worst thing he could do.
It didn’t really mean anything, you told yourself. The Capitol probably wouldn’t even recognize a marriage between a Capitol citizen and District.
You push his patience as far as it would go before you are able to collect yourself.
“Ready?” he asks.
You give a curt nod and he swings the door open.
The driver passes the bags to a servant dressed in the same white dress as the ones on the train. They take them back into tall metal building.
It reached the sky in height, and a whole community of District 12 in width.
Coriolanus knew his way well. With all the wall ways, and feature spaces of the hotel, you were sure you would get lost escaping the building, yet alone the Capitol.
An elevator you knew as you stood in front of it. They had them in large government buildings that you would sometimes ride as you delivered material from work.
The elevator door opens and he hits the top floor.
As it goes up, you feel your stomach drop. Once you reached the top floor, would you ever go down again? Was your life now confined within this building?
It reaches the penthouse too fast. Your feet refuse to move as the door opens.
Coriolanus tries a gentle tug but as the doors try to close again, he motions turn into a pull.
“We’re almost there.” He digs in his pocket for a key.
His key ring that used to carry so many keys now only held three.
The sound of an opening door is met with a loud pop of streamers.
You flinch as the colorful tissues attack you.
A high pitch scream precedes a weight being thrown at Coriolanus but he catches it easily and with great joy.
You take the chance to jump back out of the way.
“Hey,” he laughs.You watch the cousins embrace. You had once promised yourself that letters would be as close as you got to Tigris and now she stood in front of you.
“Coryo! You’re finally home,” she captures his face in a loving embrace and he smiles back.
A crooning sound overtakes the moment and an old women takes the spot of Tigris.
“My boy. Future president of Panem.”
He leans down and kisses her on the cheek. She turns her head for him to do so, coming eye to eye with you.
She turns to you as Coriolanus releases her.
“Don’t just stand there, child. Come forward, let me take a look at you.”
Grandma’am eyes you, causing you to curl further into yourself.
Coriolanus clears his throat and places his hand on your lower back to move you forward.
“May I introduce Mrs. Snow.”
“Mrs. Snow! Oh Coryo!” Tigris gasps, “How could you?”
“We had too. The media would never have left us alone if they knew. But-” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small jewelry box, “We saved the most important part for you: the rings.”
He takes a ring out of the box. Your hand shakes but he holds it steady as he slides the ring on.
Fifty small rectangular diamonds cover a gold band. It was shiny and heavy on your finger.
Tigris gasps upon seeing it but you have no reaction.
He then passes you a gold band and holds his hand out to you.
You push the ring on his finger quickly.
It was enough for Tigris who claps and jumps.
She wraps her arms around your neck while her grandmother lifts your hand up to inspect the ring.
As they give you space, Coriolanus takes it, bringing you back into his arms.
“I want to hear everything!” Tigris says.
She walks to the living room table and takes a bottle of champagne out of a bucket of ice.
It could have been the lack of food and water over the past three days. It could have been the pure overwhelming feeling of it all. But as the cork of the champagne is opened, your knees give way and you collapse unconscious.
Coriolanus manages to catch you and you feel his hard arm under your head.
You hear him call out to you before the darkness fades your vision.
—----------
You wake at midnight in a fright.
You knew you were in a bed but everything was pitch black.
Was everything a dream? Was Edmund alive and just below you?
The answer was no. Coriolanus woke with your fast movements and worked quickly to pull you into his arms.
“Hey, you’re alright. You’re alright.”
You struggle against him in a panic.
“You’re alright. You’re safe,” he consoles.
“No, no, I’m not.” You feel his face under your fingertips and push against him.
He retaliates by capturing both your wrists in his hand, pulling them down.
“Stop it. Calm down now. You’re alright.”
His weight tugs on your wrists as he leans back to flick on the bedside lamp. It cast a yellow light in which you could see him clearly.
He had gone to sleep in only his underwear again. His old Commander ways were still clawing on.
You register that you had been re-dressed into cotton pants and a large top.
“Please, Coriolanus. Let me go. I haven’t done anything,” you cry.
He pulled you closer by your wrists so your body was leaning against his.
"Please, I am sorry,” your tears soak his bare chest but he doesn’t move, “I am so sorry.”
He moves his arms around you so you were cradled but it did nothing to help soothe you.
“No, no, please,” you struggle but his hold was tight. “I never did anything wrong.”
You tried so hard to be good. Now you were being punished for it.
“I know. I know that,” he insisted, bringing you closer.
“It’s okay. Just go back to sleep.”
You can’t. The image of Edmund swinging in the wind haunted you.
“Oh Edmund,” you cried. It wasn’t his fault. He was only trying to protect you.
Coriolanus made no comment given your state.
“It’s alright. Everything is alright,” he repeats. He hums softly, a song that his mother used to sing when he was a child. He was surprised he still remembered it, or most of it at least.
He used to hum it during his school years when academic pressure hindered his sleep.
It rose his anxiety levels just from the association with those years, but it worked to settle you so he continued.
Your mother used to hum you to sleep as well. When you had bad dreams, she would sit on your bed and run her fingers through your hair as she hummed.
It was easier to pretend that you were only a child back in your bed with your mother next to you, protecting you from all the horrors of the world.
—--------------
The next morning you woke as Coriolanus finished dressing for the day.
Your movement gains his attention, he finishes putting on his coat and comes to sit next to you on the bed.
“Hey, how’d you sleep?”.
He runs a warm hand over your face. You sit up to brush him off.
“I’ve told Tigris and grandma’am to leave you alone today so you can rest.”
Your stomach drops at the thought of being isolated again. You couldn’t be left alone with your thoughts today.
Already it’s racing with guilt.
You latch onto his arm.
“No. Coriolanus please, don’t lock me in here.”
He looks to weigh up his options before deciding.
“I won’t. But you need to show me that you can behave. I won’t have you upsetting Tigris or Grandma’am.
“I won’t,” you promise.
“They don’t need to know the full extent of us. Only that we are happy to be here together.”
“Ok, Coriolanus.”
You shove the thick blanket off and swing your body off the bed.
You follow Coriolanus to the kitchen table where Tigre’s and grandma’am sat eating breakfast.
Tigre’s rises as you enter into the room. She keeps her distance so not to overwhelm you.
“Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asks.
“Much better now. Thank you. I am sorry if I offended you yesterday. I wasn't feeling well.”
“No! Of course not.” Tigris exclaims, “God, you’ve been through so much. I couldn’t even imagine how you are feeling right now.”
Your eyes flick to her. Coriolanus had made it seem like her and Grandma’am knew nothing of the truth, but could she know at least part of it?
“You must have been so frightened when those rebels took you to the mountains,” Grandma’am commented between a scone.
Your eyes shoot at Coriolanus, who was already looking at you, silently telling you to be quiet.
A twisted truth is as good as the truth itself in his books.
“Yes, I was. Everyday. But I knew Coriolanus was coming.”
“Our Coriolanus isn’t scared of coward rebels!” Grandma’am exclaims.
Coriolanus was quick to change the subject at the first sound of silence, “Tigris, she hasn’t had breakfast yet.
The breakfast table is near silent as everyone ate.
It was a relief when Coriolanus kissed you goodbye. The company of Tigres was much easier to keep.
—-----‘
Coriolanus was busy now that he was home. Interviews and meetings took most of his time now that the elections were coming up.
You saw little of Grandma’am, but Tigris almost always was in the apartment.
She tried to be kind to you. She often went out of her way to check on you. But you avoided her. Staying in the room you were placed in. If you said the wrong thing to her, it was sure to make its way back to Coriolanus, and your family was to pay for it.
Your days before Coriolanus returned home were filled by looking out the window, or preparing an item of clothing for Coriolanus. He always wanted to have at least one thing on that you had some part in preparing.
He tore off his buttons so you could sew them back on, you shined brand new shoes that didn’t need it, ironed shirts that had already been ironed for him.
You didn’t argue when he asked you to do it.
If you performed an action in the way he wanted, he would give you updates on your family.
From what you gathered, they were fed and allowed an hour outside together.
The day of the election came fast.
It felt as if it happened overnight, but it had been three days since your arrival in the Capitol.
The election was called at eight o'clock which meant the entire day was filled with buzz. People came in and out all day. Coriolanus spent the entire day on the phone, or in between breaks talking to the people in the room.
You sat in his chair as he worked standing. You watched the people as they came in and out. They looked different from people back home.
They all had something unusual about them. Funny color hair, a piercing that stuck out of their face. One thing they all had in common was their high quality clothing. Nothing like the sacks District clothes are made out of.
Grandma’am and Tigris had gone out to prepare themselves for the election. It was nearly night but they had been gone since the morning.
Coriolanus was in the middle of getting a haircut when two females came up to you and requested that you followed them.
Coriolanus told you to do so from where he sat. You didn’t ask why as you followed them to the bedroom.
With the door shut, they tell you to shower and come back so they can dress you for the election.
The news causes you to tense. You were not ready to face the Capitol.
But with no choice, you take a shower and return for them to do their work.
They only talk to each other as they work.
They dress you in a white strapless gown that split up the side to show more white sparkly tulle, and white heels that were shorter and easier to walk in than the pink heels that you had at the train station.
They gossip about elite members of the Capital. Who was cheating on who. Who wore what.
One burns you with a hot iron as she curls your hair because she leans forward to laugh. No apology is given as she continues to talk. She pins small white roses throughout your hair. The pins scrape your head as they enter your hair but you make no complaint.
You were grateful when they finished dressing you. As soon as they begin to pack up, you exit the room without a goodbye.
You run into Coriolanus, still with his team in the living room. He stood in front of a tall mirror as you had taken the main bedroom.
He matched you in white. Admittedly, he looked gorgeous in a double-breasted suit with his white shirt peeking out from it. The first few first buttons were undone and a silver chain with your ring hung around his neck.
He was fixing a white rose to his chest pocket when his eyes caught you in the mirror behind him.
“We are finished here,” he tells the room, who pack up immediately.
He looked nervous, and you supposed he should be. All his life had been leading up to this moment.
He talks low to you so the others don’t hear as they leave, almost whispering in your ear.
“Just a few more hours and you’ll be looking at the President of Panam.”
Your hands shook, and you flexed them to try and shake the nerves out.
Coriolanus, always hyper-aware, noticed, capturing your hands and bringing them up to his face to kiss.
“Shouldn’t I be the one shaking?” he jokes.
“I don’t want to go. You don’t need me there.”
“I do need you there.” He releases you, annoyed at your resistance.
You sit down on the couch as the people make their way to the door.
“Do I need to remind you that your performance tonight is crucial to your family's survival?”
“No,” you say softly, “That’s never left my mind.”
He crouches down in front of you, resting his hands on your waist.
“Good. Now people know you are District, but you’re not to mention it. If anyone mentions it to you, you tell me straight away.” He flicks your chin up so you are looking at him and not at your lap. “Hey, straight away.”
You nod your head in understanding. You had no plan to talk freely with any of the Capitol brood anyway.
“As first lady of Panem, you’ll be required to attend performances like these from time to time. I need to know I can trust you not to embarrass me when you do.”
You nod your head once again, “You can.”
You remember Ravenstill’s wife. All she did was smile and sit pretty. You could do the same, regardless of the pain you felt.
He raises himself slightly to press his lips against yours before rising entirely.
“The car is waiting down stairs.” You rise with him and he takes your hand in his through the walk.
The car ride is silent. Coriolanus began to practice his speech again as you stared out the window.
The Capitol seems quieter than usual. No car buzzed around as you drove. One or two passed but they seemed to be in their own rush. Not a person roamed the street.
All of the Capitol held their breath as they waited for their new President.
The car stops in front of a huge fountain surrounded by a large field. It was out of place amongst the sky scrapers. It was filled with people, all wearing peculiar colorful clothing. Nearly all of them wore a white rose upon their chest.
They surrounded a large stage lit up with bright lights.
Rows of chairs were lined across the back of the stage. People hovered around them, all wearing white like you. They greet Coriolanus as he walks through. Some of them even greet you, but you hate them all the same.
You see his grandmother and cousin sitting directly behind the podium. He seems to be trying to make a beeline to them, but people keep interrupting them.
He keeps his temper, politely dismissing them as he wades through the crowd.
His grandmother jumps up to kiss him. He uses his spare hand to bring her in close.
“President Snow, we salute you,” she says sincerely.
“I’ve not won anything yet, Grandma’am,” but his smirk told that he knew he was about to.
Grandma’am wore a hat of white roses but a simple white dress suit and pearls.
Tigris rose as well to hug her cousin now her grandmother was out of the way. Her strapless white dress hugged her curves right down to her ankles where the dress dissolved into white tulle. You could see the outline of white roses on her dress too. Her makeup was centered around the pale pink eyeshadow that was blown out towards her temple.
Finishing with Coriolanus, Tigris turns and hugs you, but you couldn’t manage it back.
Coriolanus leans down to whisper in your ear, “All you have to do is sit down next to Tigris and smile. Can you do that?”
Your families life depended on it, so you smile back at him to show that you could.
The Panem national anthem began to play bringing a hush over the audience as they all go back to stand in front of their seat and sing.
Coriolanus stood next to you, still holding your hand as he sung. The camera flashed in your face and you decide it was better to sing along.
The song finishes and the large screen behind you switches to a man with a microphone on one side and another man in a field similar to Coriolanus. You assumed the latter was his political opponent.
It was the cue for the people on stage to take a seat. You take yours next to Tigris and Coriolanus walks up to the podium.
Smaller screens are prompted up along the front of the stage so that no one on the stage was facing backwards.
You watch as the man with the microphone gives his introduction, introducing himself as Lucky Flickerman before the screen flashes to Coriolanus, and then cuts to Augustus.
You eye the open field. The guards were all focused to the front. There were a few people off the side but they looked mostly like stylists and operation managers. They would hardly put up a fight for you.
You could make it. At least on to the street. But how would you make it back home? How would you free your family? How could you live with yourself in District 12 without Edmund?
Tigress reaches out and entangles your hand with her in comfort. It brings you back to the election.
Lucky performs a few magic tricks as the final votes are counted.
“Now for the moment we have all been waiting for.'' An assistant runs up and places an envelope into Lucky’s hand.
“The results are in people! Who has Panem chosen to be our new leader? The savvy businessman or the fearless Commander? Let’s find out!”
Not a word was spoken as the man opened the envelope. It must have been the result he wanted, for he broke out into a grin and began to shake his head.
“Just as I predicted. Ladies and gentleman, the new President of Panem: Coriolanus Snow!”
The crowd erupts in cheering around you. Loud popping sounds precedes colorful confetti dropping from mounted cannons. Tigris lets go of your hand to clutch Coriolanus.
She sprang up from her seat and captured his head between her arms. His grandmother is next up to crowd him. He brushed off people quickly, he had a speech to make.
You wonder if you should get up but there were already too many people around him. You would only be in the way.
He makes his way to you, bending down to place a kiss on your cheek before turning back to shake hands with those around him.
The win came as no surprise to him but he wore a large smile, and seemed almost giddy at the news.
He turns back to the podium and people quieten as he gives his speech. You heard him mutter it a million times. You could almost recite it for him.
“Today is a new day for Panem,” it began.
You eye your freedom just down the stairs but remain seated and smiling.
You’re not sure how long Coriolanus spoke for, but the applause and cheering told you he had stopped.
Before you knew it he was standing in front of you with an outstretched hand. You take it and he stops to kiss his family, giving them instructions as to where they should now go before he leads you down the steps and into the crowd.
You shrink back as they gather around him. His grasp hurt. Your bones in your hand felt as if they were about to pop out of place. But it was too easy to get lost in the crowd, so he wouldn’t loosen it.
Too many voices overlapped to hear any single one. A few pats on your shoulder was all the attention you received while Coriolanus was drowning in a sea of people.
You couldn’t make out his words over the people and the music. You let yourself be overtaken with the senses.
You smiled and nodded at people as you passed them. It was Coriolanus’ big night, you couldn’t even fathom the punishment if you were to make a mistake tonight.
You stay close to him, just over his shoulder.
He looks back to check on you one or two times but never opens his mouth.
Confetti had been hidden in his curls. You focused on counting the pieces.
The whirl-pool of people seemed to never end. As soon as one person faded another took their place.
It must have been half an hour before Coriolanus made the small distance to the apartment block.
It was 30 stories with a roof top bar that was pumping with lights and music.
The rest of the people would mingle down below with food and drinks. Huddling around the colorful glass standing tables.
You reach the entrance, guarded by two peacekeepers, and Coriolanus leads you in front of him as he presses the button for the elevator.
It was quick to come and Coriolanus pushed your hips to make you move inside.
He lets go of you as you enter and gives a wave to his fans as the door closes.
The elevator is dead quiet. Only the faint sound of pumping music could be heard.
You think he is too wrapped up in his victory to pay you any mind now you were out of sight of the public.
You were relieved almost to be out from under his attention. But he moves quick to push you up against the wall and smash his lips onto yours.
His hands steady your face as he assaults your lips.
He leaves you out of breath and grins at you widely for it.
The door dings open, and he pulls back from you. Only taking a loose grip of your hand.
Another cheer for the President was heard over the music as he steps out.
You look around the room at all the people in white. Supporters of a maniac.
Tigris and Grandma’am were offered a lounge chair as they ate and drank.
“Look,” he spoke to you, taking a green drink off a tray offered to him, “The apple pie drink you wanted. I requested it especially for you.”
He passed you the drink as a man approached him.
You managed to get a “thank you” out before the stranger began to talk.
Coriolanus paid you no more mind the rest of the night. He spoke and joked freely with the party goers while stringing you along behind him.
A few spoke to you about mundane things but Coriolanus was quick to end any longer talk then a few seconds.
The drink did taste like apple pie. A low rate apple pie. You could bake one much better. But for a drink it was fine. You ended up drinking three before Coriolanus snatched the fourth and placed it on a nearby table.
Tigres caught your eye a couple of times. You knew she was making sure you were alright. She was kind, and so ‘un-Capitol’.
Grandma’am was more true to her up-bringing. She insisted on teaching you the ways of the Capitol, and training you out of your ‘District ways’.
“It'll be our secret,” she told you over breakfast this morning, “I’ll defend you against the District rumors.”
In a way you supposed it was sweet of her. Although her intentions could very well be for Coriolanus' benefit rather than yours.
The later it got, the quieter it got.
People began disappearing. Others passed out on sofas and lounges.
Coriolanus' energy never seemed to drain, but Tigris’ and Grandma’am’s did.
Tigris had come over and interrupted Coriolanus' conversation. She offered to take you home with her and Grandma’am but Coriolanus was resistant.
“She’s fine, Tigris. I’ll bring her home with me.”
If you had been on equal standing with Coriolanus, you would have protested and just left but you were mud under his shoe, so you smiled at Tigris and told her you would see her in the morning.
Tigris kissed both of you goodbye. You hold on to her for too long. You could tell from the way Coriolanus squeezed your hand.
The party continued long after she had gone.
Your legs hurt from standing in the heels and your dress was too tight to have eaten all you did over the course of the night.
Coriolanus could sense that you were nearing the end of what you could take, so he began his final lap of victory around the room.
You were beyond grateful when he ushered you into the car.
You sighed as you sunk down into the plush leather seats, taking off your heels instantly.
“Thank you for tonight,” he said as the car entered the main road which had returned to its normal state of business even late at night, “You were very well behaved.”
“Congratulations on your win,” you return.
“Snow always lands on top,” he talks softly as he gazes out to the city.
The car rolls through the city smoothly. Coriolanus watches it pass from the window.
You feel half-asleep resting your head back on the seat.
You feel him move you down to a lying position and your eyes shoot wide open. His fingers brush your skin as he slides the skirt of your dress up.
“What are you doing?” You catch his hands and he lowers his head.
He hushes you as he slides your panties off your hips, “All the drivers talk.”
Trapped in a car in a city that kills your people for entertainment, you lay back and don’t make a sound.
You clutch the back of the seat in a tight hold as Coriolanus begins.
Edmund was barely cold in the ground and here you were, being eaten out by the man who killed him.
You try not to focus on it as Coriolanus' lips and tongue work. It pulls a moan from you and Coriolanus hits your thigh.
You press your tongue between your teeth to avoid making noise. A hand makes its way into Coriolanus’ curls and tugging on them gives you a sense of satisfaction.
It encourages him however and his movements become more targeted and passionate.
The car pulls to the curb in front of his house by the time you had made a mess in the backseat.
You lay back with your legs spread as you come down from your high.
A chill shoots through you as the door is opened by the driver but Coriolanus pulls it closed before he could see the scene.
You get up despite not being ready too. Coriolanus grabs your shoes and pockets your panties, taking your hand when its free.
You both emerge from the car as if nothing had happened.
It was late and cold. You thank the driver as you pass him.
The building was huge. Nearly all the floor was covered in titles and your feet made a sound against them.
You try to slow your walk to quite the sound, but Coriolanus was eager to get up to the apartment.
He storms across the lobby, and courtyard before reaching the steps that lead to the elevator.
He presses the button too many times. It doesn’t make it come any faster.
The house is dark and silent as you enter. The women went to bed hours ago, and you were hopping to follow suit.
Coriolanus leads you to his bedroom which is large and not yet decorated.
You pull free from him as you enter. Immediately you tear all the pins and roses from your hair.
You hear Coriolanus drop your shoes.
He clears his throat to gain your attention.
“Your brother and mother have been freed from the compound.”
Your fingers freeze in your hair. It felt as if he had lifted a great weight off your chest. You turn to him in gratitude.
“Thank you, Coriolanus.”
He smiles down at you before stooping down to your height and placing a firm kiss to your lips.
You push back against his shoulders after the kiss continues past a normal amount of time.
He pushes back, bracing you against the bed with him on top of you.
His lips turn to your neck as he unzips the back of your dress.
“Coriolanus, please don’t,” you beg.
He slides the dress’s straps off your shoulder as he responds, “Please, just give this to me. Don’t make me take it.’’
The dress is taken off you, and Coriolanus strips it off with kisses.
Only when a kiss is placed on your hip do you begin to struggle.
This man had tormented you for months. Starved you. Robbed you. Killed the man you loved. You would give him nothing freely.
You kick and push him away, but he is stronger.
“Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” He pulls you upward by your wrists to the pillows.
“No! Get off of me!”
“Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads.
You continue to fight but he persists.
“Please, don’t make me do this.”
“No. No. Edmund! Mum!”
“Shut up,” it was less of a command and more of a plea, “Please, shut up.”
You do. What would your resistance gain you? A few more seconds until the inevitable.
His grip loosens as you are still beneath him.
With only a weak hold of your wrists, he pulls off his clothes. You can hear the movement but can’t force your eyes to open.
Tears leak down your cheeks but you refrain from making a sound.
“It’s alright. I’ll take care of you.”
He lines himself up and pushes in with ease. The pain was subsided due to your wetness from the car ride but the first slow thrusts felt slightly painful and uncomfortable.
You whine slightly as you adjust to the intrusion. You fight to release your wrists from his hold, you wanted to push back on his shoulders, feeling as if he was too deep.
“It’ll only hurt for a little bit,” he promised, continuing his slow movements.
He kisses you as you let out another whine.
Soon the pain did stop, and an enjoyable sensation began to form.
Coriolanus tried his best to remain slow, but as he got lost in his own lust, he forgot about your pain.
It felt as if he was bruising you. But his mouth never left yours so you couldn’t voice a complaint.
Your hips jerk away from him, trying to ease the pressure but his spare hand stills your hip, making you take the full brunt of what he wanted to give you.
He pulls his head back from yours and groans.
“Ah,” he grunts.
“Coriolanus-” you had wanted to ask him to slow down but you feel yourself tightening around him as you come.
His hand moves from your wrists and intertwines with your hand. He presses his weight down as he picks up his pace to chase his own high.
“Wait, wait!” you were through. Every second after was too much.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he grunts.
You groan from the pressure as he continues.
“Almost there, darling.”
His last few thrusts are hard but the pressure turns into a warm pool between your legs.
Coriolanus is still as he rests his forehead upon your shoulder. You don’t move either, unsure of what to do.
A few moments later and he raises his head, repositioning himself so his arms cage around your head.
He drags a finger down the bridge of your nose and it runs off your cheek like a tear.
“Welcome to the Capitol, Mrs. Snow.
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#coriolanus snow#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#dark!coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#tom blyth#hunger games#dead dove do not eat#commander snow
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(✧) SWEET MORNINGS -A.W
: ̗̀➛ pairing: aaron warner + implied fem!reader
: ̗̀➛ genre: fluff
: ̗̀➛ summary: sweet mornings with aaron warner has always been a highlight of the day.
authors note: beware of crappy and lackadaisical writing, i'm on a writer's block which is why i'm writing to try to get out of it (currently fighting demons, pray for me, y'all)
mornings with WARNER were often relatively peaceful. sunlight peeked behind the dark and luxurious curtains as the boy holding you shifted slightly as he stirred himself awake. eyelashes fluttering, aaron opens his eyes.
not wishing to wake you up, he sits himself up and his eyes scan the room. unfortunately, his efforts are put into the vain when you utter sleepily,
"aaron?"
"yes, love?"
"can we stay like this for five more minutes?"
aaron hums in agreement and you smiled. quickly, five minutes turn to ten and ten turned into fifteen. it kept on going until an hour had passed. the both of you noticed but neither dared to say anything. it was only until you were hungry you shifted slightly from your spot.
aaron's eyes remained close as he mumbles, "are you hungry? i can make something..." you both knew that if you agreed that you were hungry, he'd make you something despite you possible protests. you mumble an "okay" to which he says,
"go brush your teeth, angel, i'll be in the kitchen."
he managed to get out of the embrace you had unconsciously made around him and smiled at you, the signature dimples you adored making its appearance..
you eventually go to the bathroom (after procrastinating the small task) that was illuminated under the soft, natural light coming from the window. you didn't quite bother to put much effort in freshening yourself up and by the time you were in the kitchen, aaron had made a stack of fluffy pancakes with chopped bananas.
he served them to you and grabbed a plate for himself. small personal jokes were exchanged between the both of you as well as small conversations that seemed innocent and boring to anyone's eyes besides the two of you. giggles and light chuckles filled the room quite quickly. once aaron and you had finished your breakfast, you returned back to bed, like before. few words were exchanged but each word came with adoration and affection for the other.
sweet mornings with aaron warner.
#aaron warner#aaron warner x y/n#aaron warner x reader#aaron warner x you#shatter me#tahereh mafi#aaron warner anderson#shatter me series
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