#i love how everyone in this game just takes everything in stride.

[femvaylin]

HER???

[blue-eli]

Ink October day ten: Dichotomy

A division into two contrasting things or parts.

The phase of the moon, Mercury, or Venus when half of the disk is illuminated.

Branching characterized by successive forking into two approximately equal divisions.

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

[tinythebunni]

rafe had his eyes on you for a while. you were new to the island and everyone wanted to be by you. you seemed to have this energy that attracted everyone, like a fucking magnet.

rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. you were everything he could want in a girl. tall, slim, curvy, shiny skin, beautiful hair, and most of all you were so feminine. he loved a girl he could take care of, provide for even.

he first saw you at the country club. you were clad in skimpy pink bikini with white polka dots, a white bow in the side of your hair, and white flats on. you read some magazine he couldn’t be bothered to even pay attention to. for right now, you were his main object of his attention. you could feel his eyes on you, you usually did.

you’d been here only two weeks and you knew all about the infamous rafe cameron. there were rumors he killed some cop and he had a drug problem.

people said he was one of the most fun people in the world but he would blow up in the quarter of a second. no girl could hold him down and he always got what he wanted. everyone wanted to be him or fuck him.

he’d made slight advances in the short amount of time you’ve been in the outer banks. holding a door open for you, paying for your drink, offering to apply your sunscreen while you tanned at the beach, the whole shabang.

you didn’t give him the slightest ounce of your attention. you wanted him to work for it. obviously you wanted him but you can’t let him know that! if rafe always got what he wanted then he wouldn’t mind a challenge.

you liked this game of cat and mouse you guys played. you didn’t know how much longer you could take it though. your friend daphne had invited you to some kook party at her stupid chad bfs house.

you went of course because rafe would be there. and you wanted him to see you, especially in this outfit. a lacy pink halter neck and pink mini skirt with ties on the sides. it showed just enough of skin to make him crazy. you wanted him to know what he was missing out on.

who knows? maybe tonight you’ll let him have a taste.

after a while of being at the party you started to get a bit bored. there were people making out in the corners, the alcohol tasted shit, and rafe still wasn’t here.

you were slightly buzzed and contemplating walking out when you saw him. he wore only a white wife beater and some denim jeans. what really caught your attention was the way his eyes were immediately on you when he came in.

he looked you over, greeting a few people, but not once did his eyes stray off you.

“top, i gotta go handle something. i’ll catch ya later.” and with that he strides over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into a room upstairs.

you had butterflies in your stomach. after a month he couldn’t take it anymore. you were excited to see what he would do now.

he swiftly locked the door and turned towards you with an almost primal look in his eyes. you giggle as he rubs the back of his neck and glares.

“do you think this shit is fuckin funny? been wanting you for months and you think it’s game. do you know how hard you make me? those skimpy fucking skirts and that coy smile.“

you were positive you looked like a fish out of water right now. you could feel a heat rising in your belly and a blush flushing your checks and neck.

“i didn’t know i affected you that much” you whispered.

“bullshit. i see you close your thighs each time i fucking look at you. can barely focus on anything when you’re near by.”

rafe is stalking towards you now, and you back up more and more until your knees finally hit the bed. he pushes you back until your lying on your back, with only your elbows and forearms holding you up.

he pulls your skirt over your tummy, glancing up at you as he places a kiss on your thigh.

“tell me this is okay. i needa know what you taste like. i can’t fucking stand it. so close to your pussy i can practically feel you on my tongue already.”

you give a shaky nod but that’s not enough.

he pinches the inside of your thigh and shakes his head with disapproval.

“no. baby i need words. use your voice, ain’t even touched you yet so i know you’re not fucked out already.”

“yes, yes rafe this is okay! please i need it” you whine while your lips pout slightly.

he was being so mean right now! is this what it felt like for him all this time?

he places a kiss on your clit over your panties and thumbs at your entrance. he smoothes your arousal over your lips and curses under his breath.

rafe takes his time making you whimper and whine. you push your hips up for some kind of friction, something more than he’s giving you. he uses his left hand to hold you down while his right pushes down on your clit, the pressure making your eyes roll back.

“calm down sweet thing. s’okay. m jus getting you ready. been dreaming bout this and i wanna take my time”

the cameron boy takes off your underwear and pauses. you can’t tell if he’s in awe or disgusted.

“so fucking pretty baby. is this all for me?” he questions as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

“rafe of course it is, do you see anybody else in this fucking room?” you’re mad now, you’re so fucking horny and he’s being a tease!

“alright alright” he laughs, placing a kiss to your thigh and looking up at you one last time.

“not letting you go after this is done. you’re mine.”

[jacesvelaryons]

His Chosen Bride (Senator!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol Reader).

Chapter 1

masterlist

series masterlist

excerpt

summary: senator coriolanus snow seems on top of the world with everything in his life ahead of him except for one thing. the perfect bride. in his pursuit, your life changes forever.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: thank you everyone for your patience as I prepared this!! i hope you all love it and show your support through likes, reblogs and especially comments of what you thought! i love hearing what my readers and other people in the fandom think about my work, so any of your thoughts would be appreciated.

requests OPEN

Upon his return to the Capitol, his reputation restored, wealth acquired from the Plinths who so generously named him the heir to their grand fortune, his path to power was paved for him and he knew he just had to take the strides to get to the prize. The Presidency.

Coriolanus Snow, scion of one of the oldest and most elite of bloodlines of the great Panem families was home, his shameful exile to District 12 remembered by no one and purged from the registry.

Enrolled in university and an apprentice gamemaker, he was eventually promoted to become Senior Gamemaker upon Dr. Gaul’s semi-retirement and her preparation to hand off the reins to her protégé. Her brain child whom she molded from the vestiges of his sorrow and pain, of his loss in the districts and what hardened him into the man he was now.

When he graduated with honours from the political science department, it was only a few months before he was elected in a landslide to become the youngest Senator in Panem’s history, relying on his contributions to the recent games, memories of his late parents to those of a certain age to secure his win.

He would have considered re-election for another term before advisors of his and other cabinet members of the old, sickly President Ravinstill were close to swearing their support but all echoed the same thing that he lacked, they said. It was not his youth, he was wise for his age they said, but he was not married. If he had a wife, they said - they would be on board for his presidential election. And it seemed that election would be sooner than later, even before his first term finished.

Coriolanus needed to find a wife, not just of good breeding, but of the most impeccable lineage, from among the most illustrious hundred or so families of Capitol society. It was a given it would be purely political and strategic, someone whom he could not love and open his heart to after his previous tragedy pursuing such.

The perfect bride. The search for the perfect companion, the woman whom he would call his wife, his future first lady, and mother of his heirs. The ideal woman who would bridge the gap between his dreams to make them a reality.

He could not just choose the first possible candidate recommended to him or that caught his eye, Coriolanus had to devise a thorough, multi-step testing process to find his perfect wife, his bride.

A rigorous procedure would be curated in finding her. Interviews, tests, exams, genealogical inquiries, fitness tests, and practice scenarios will be prompted from eligible candidates, already filtering through those only from the old, grand families upon application.

Digging through his family library into the latest edition handbook of noble and elite families of the Capitol’s upper class, the creme de la creme, ignoring recently disgraced clans, ones full of scandal and controversy, with plenty of illegitimate children, and extinct ones rotting in poverty nearly like his own had he not reversed their fortune.

He scheduled a meeting with his advisors and closest allies on creating the program, the selection process, examinations and interrogation, and how to make the announcement for the families of these eligible girls to put their names in, with their consent or not.

Coriolanus Snow was born from the upper echelon of society, and only deserved the best woman with whom he would continue his lineage with and hail his presidency with. No one had dared, rather self-important he could argue if he cared, to make as many girls clamour for his attention rather than to propose to a woman of his choice.

Just as he was about to put the book down and shut it closed, a name caught his attention. Yours. Your lineage, accomplishments, your etiquette were second to none, and he had to have you. At all costs. He would burn heaven and hell, but the question remains - would he win you over? Or will he have to force your hand no matter what?

Besides, he requires others to choose from, even if you are the most qualified. It would not do well for your ego to have the satisfaction you were chosen for. He wants you to want it, to beg for it, claim it and aspire to be one worthy to be by his side, motivated by the competition who would slit your throat and ruin your reputation for it.

And yet a lingering thought crept up his mind. He had brought life back into the Hunger Games, that was on its dying breath before his arrival, why not another? Everything is a game if you try hard enough.

…

A brightly lit room surrounded you as you grabbed a few more pieces of dandelions and baby’s breath bunches for your bouquet, in your floral arrangement lessons for the week. Under the watchful eye of your teacher, a premiere florist who is hired by the Capitol’s elite for the most fashionable and well-sought events every season.

Hailing from one of the oldest families among the Capitol’s blue bloods, your family may not be the wealthiest but definitely prosperous to be among them, yet your lineage is prominent even before Panem’s founding, the most ancient of them all.

In your family home’s perfectly manicured garden, you immerse yourself in the arrangement, something that would impress your teacher yet also something you would find pleasant in a vase by your study. No way would someone of your heritage be found associating with anything subpar.

After your studies at the Academy, your lessons and tutoring would never end, usually something different for each day. Piano, ballet, etiquette, floristry, household management, painting and so on.

As you gathered a crimson bow around the branches of your bouquet, you could hear murmurs among the uniformly dressed maids and servants around the stately home, as your mother jaunted towards you in her glossy designer heels.

“Yes, mother?” You greeted politely, observing the unreadable expression on your mother’s face.

She approached you carefully, gently taking your hands in her own, soft and having never experienced hardship.

“A great honour has been bestowed on you, daughter. A promising Senator has taken a liking to you, and wants you to be considered for his future bride.” Your mother smiles in celebration and pride, and your brows furrow in consternation.

“A Senator as old as father? A man old enough to be my grandfather-”

“Hush, darling. He is young, from a proper family of the elite family unlike those Plinths, new money scum. Senator Coriolanus Snow, the son of late General Crassus Snow and his wife Victoria Snow. He is only twenty four, I think you would like him.” She brushes your hair behind your ears, but you turn away from her, pushing her hands away.

“Twenty four, when I am eighteen?”

Your mother shrugs. “It is the way of the world I suppose. I was your age when I met your father. Eighteen and he was twenty one, a match fit for the sort like us.”

“You mentioned I was being considered but no outright proposal or courting has begun. What do you mean?”

She unveiled a large envelope she was holding behind her back, taking it out for you before a gold hued canvas invitation was unveiled.

Dear Y/N L/N and family, I hope this letter finds you well. As I have progressed through my career as a gamemaker and politician, it has been too long since I have navigated through life without a lifelong companion and wife.

You are a woman of unblemished character, accomplished in many ways, intelligent, well-bred and would fit the bill of what a man like me seeks in a future partner.

There is no guarantee that you must receive this invitation and accept, but rather that your name will be included in a pool of candidates to be considered. I hope that you and your family would view this as a position of honour, and even if you shall not be chosen, you will be compensated for your time and this shall only raise your standing in our society.

Please reply to the number and address attached below with your response, and I would be beholden and pleased to hear if you would put your name forward to possibly become my future First Lady.

Sincerely, Senator Coriolanus Snow

You could not believe it, the humiliation of not being asked directly for one’s hand in marriage but having to compete with other ladies of society and grovel for his attention.

“Are you and papa seriously making me do this? The Hunger Games to be someone’s wife and heir maker?!”

Your mother sighs, shaking her head as she crosses her arms. “You do not understand, child. I have heard of other elite families whose daughters, sisters, nieces such as the Heavensbees, the Cardews, Dovecotes, among a few have been invited and all have accepted. No one would even think to refuse a Snow!”

“But it is not guaranteed. How would I not be offended if he did not make a guaranteed offer but wants me to participate like I am in a beauty pageant. I have to close off even entertaining other suitors and I am not even assured that I will not be left dry and humiliated if I was not chosen.”

“Your grandmother was Miss Panem many years ago before the war and those rebels ruined everything, I am sure he will choose you. Even if he did not, any other unmarried peer of yours would scoop you up in no time, that if Snow perceived you as someone potential, they are from the cream of the crop.”

You sighed, putting down your shearing tools and your bunches of daisies and baby’s breath. You never liked roses.

“You have always aimed for the stars, daughter. Would you pass on an opportunity like this or be forgotten to the tombs of time?” Your mother suggests, walking over to you with a guiding hand on your shoulder. “Choose wisely if you want to make something of yourself, to not pass on opportunities like this.

Golden letter in hand, you stared intensely at the dark line above your name, signifying whether you would submit your name or not. With a bold stroke of your ink pen, you sign your fate and future away. I agree to participate.

Let the games begin.

His Chosen Bride Taglist:

(if your name is bolded, I put in your user but it didn't show up when prompted so I'm not sure if you got notified!) Please let me know if you'd like to be added and reminded every time I update.

@xsunaxrinx @bialuvss @emma0320 @callieyanderechan @crimsonred13 @starcrosslove @castellandiangelo @sylmthadmnglla13 @tragicmiserybone @o12lk22gr @anna-stasia @paumartinezsstuff @coriosbunni @nora4us @jupiterstearx @corvinaweeb @batman1asf @imperfectophelia @madmaxsalltoowell @vicky2408 @folklorelogy @bradpittwh0re @linaa20 @abcde601375 @kickmybark @emynunez21 @princessofthereach @maeve-a24 @ellie-bellie-29 @ashfromurfire @dante-pearl @yuuuumii @kxksksjjd @everythingjp @frill0 @aslalali @addriaenne @joyfulyouthlover @rbrsvb @motomami111 @imamybubbles @x-gabrielle-x @crystalstars88 @cc13723things @izzy02soph @shycandykitty @thtweirdointhecornr1917 @drpeperrlover11 @starmaiden @itz-me-cherie @papi-chulo69000 @meetmeatyourworst @sombodynotimportant @hyunjinspdf @bellaramseysgirlfriend @mari-mari12 @kis9na @lvrdilfs @mizuki80mizuki80 @deago21 @hafisjfjsit @miniatureblazellama @livid-euphoria @sugaxmamii @kropka4321 @jamesyrobin @joana2934 @kotadislikesthissite @byisy @shinae28 @atlasedelgard @eimearj123 @urfavewh0r3 @sophs-sofa @dreammie-marrie @cos-ilsee @nikolaikirche0 @bigwmc66 @mandoskenobi @theswreties @soniusstuff @1lovesnowballs @bitvhese @craftycloudcollection @byraaaaan19 @mythic-moon-moth @reading-in-velaris @bestboymikey @marytargaryen @cleverpeachheropersona @adeline32sblog @snowdrops-png @lysonal @tiffdx @bingxuu @noothemoo

[hellodropbear]

it's time. (IV)

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

part I, II and III

enjoy! this is the final part of the series

please send requests for any one shots for this family because I love them!

~~~~~~

The knock at the door was loud and rapid.

Mapi knew exactly who it was, having received very subtly passive text messages from Alexia about 15 minutes earlier.

Besides, it's not like it was going to be Ingrid, and nobody else visited her at the apartment.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she opened the door, bracing herself for whatever Alexia was going to say to her.

No words ever came out though, the midfielder just striding in and sitting herself on the sofa, her feet right beside where Isabel was playing.

"Ale!" The toddler's voice became excited as soon as she noticed her godmother walking in.

"Hey my Is." Her first words were incredibly exasperated, a long sigh escaping as her attention was turned to Mapi who was standing anxiously by the front door, having frozen after closing it.

"Frido told me that Ingrid is 'dejected and confused.'" She used her hands to make quotation marks around the adjectives before continuing. "She told me exactly what you said to her, how you said it. When you said it."

Mapi exhaled softly, walking over to where she had been playing with her daughter and sitting down, her little black cat settling in her lap.

"You told me to talk to her." Her voice came out like a mouse, quiet and hesitant.

"I didn't mean say one sentence on the pitch after the game and walk away! I meant think about what you wanted to say, how to say it and then have a grown up conversation with her!"

Isabel's head whipped back up, unfamiliar with the aggression in Alexia's voice. The midfielder winced, reducing her voice down to a softer tone.

"You are going to have to fix this Mapi, you can't avoid her like I know you were planning on doing."

The centre back's hands were occupied with the toys, but her mind was far from playing as she considered her options.

"What, so I tell her I want to be friends?"

Alexia nodded easily.

"But what if I can't? She's not someone I can just be friends with, Ale."

"Then you can just see where it takes you."

She shakes her head, her hands freezing around the toys in her hands.

"I wish it were that easy."

Alexia's heart broke with Mapi's voice, only now noticing the heartbreak written all over her best friend's face. Because this is really what Mapi thought was the right thing to do.

"Depriving yourself of happiness for the sake of your child is not going to end well for either of you."

Alexia's voice was softer now, her hand coming to a rest on Isabel's curly head of hair.

But Mapi just shook her head again, disagreeing.

"Isabel doesn't deprive me of happiness, she makes me happy. She's kept me going ever since Luis died."

The midfielder knew this, and she knew how much her best friend loved her child, how much she needed her and how much she relied on her. The baby was everything to Mapi and it was so obvious that she was just so afraid of doing something wrong, of messing up Isabel's childhood.

Everyone who knew the mother knew that wouldn't happen because she has done such a good job of raising the happy baby despite her own problems that she could easily let overcome her.

Once, she told Alexia that she had lost a best friend but been given a new one instead.

Another time, she had said that she would never be good enough for the baby that carries half of Luis around with her. She admitted that every once in a while, she would see tiny bits of her late best friend in her child and be so overcome with emotion.

Because it took her best friend dying to have this baby who she loved so much.

The day of Isabel's birth was a day of huge and conflicting emotions because Mapi loved the baby before she even saw her and couldn't imagine giving her away so quickly, but she also knew that if she hadn't just experienced the greatest heartbreak of her life she would have had to give her back to her parents.

And on top of that, the death of Luis and Isabel meant that they wouldn't be able to watch their little girl grow up, they wouldn't be able to be parents, something both of them desired so greatly.

So she loved her baby daughter so much, but part of that love would always be tainted by what she could have been, what she should have been; the fun aunt.

She was given the baby because she was the next best option after the two perfect parents, and she made a promise to herself that she would spend every day of her life trying to live up to what Isabel could have had.

Why should the baby lose out on such good parenting because of a tragic car accident?

And Mapi knew that she could never and would never break that promise.

Alexia knew that too, but she didn't think that Mapi finding someone to love would break her promise. If Ingrid was the right person, she would love and care for Isabel too, just like she already did.

"I know, Maria. But I think you deserve this, I know you do. If you don't like her like that I'll leave you alone, but I think you do."

Mapi's face softened.

"Of course I like her, Ale. She's kind, she's loyal, she's helpful. Is loves her and she loves Is. She's gorgeous - on the inside and the outside but she is so much more than that. She's complex, Alexia and-"

She was interrupted.

"And so are you. We all are complex and that's good. We all have our own stories and hardships, they just vary in size. You have a big story Mapi, I know. She knows that too."

"She doesn't know."

The centre back shook her head because in truth, she hadn't been able to bring herself to say it.

She had spent hours with Ingrid, every day over the past month they'd seen each other, gone on walks, had dinner together. Of course the topic of how Isabel was born should have come up, because Mapi was obviously a gay woman, it wouldn't have just been an accident.

She'd told Ingrid that she gave birth to Isabel, but nothing more.

Ingrid didn't feel like it was her place to ask any questions, and Mapi didn't know how to say anything more without breaking into tears for her lost best friend. She couldn't tell Ingrid about the pressure she felt because the Norwegian wouldn't have understood. Surely, she couldn't have?

Alexia's eyes rose and then focussed back down on Mapi.

"She doesn't know about Luis? Why you were out for so long?"

She shrugged, letting out a long exhale.

"I said that I gave birth to Isabel and didn't want to leave her so soon to go to training. She didn't ask any more questions. It's not like I lied or anything."

"I think you need to talk to her, Mapi. You don't need to talk about Isabel, but you need to tell her your thoughts. Try and be friends, for the sake of the team, please."

Mapi shrugged, telling Alexia that she would consider it.

The midfielder also suggested visiting the psychologist, but the suggestion was quickly shot down, as it was when Jonatan suggested it on her first day back.

Mapi had been to a psychologist once since Isabel was born, and it was a secret she would likely take to her grave. It had been a low point and she didn't know who to talk to, so she searched up a psychologist in Barcelona and went the next day.

She had sobbed on that sofa as Isabel slept in her arms, entirely unsure of what to do next and how to deal with her career, with her baby and with the grief that consumed her everyday life.

The psychologist had sat there with a neutral face, appearing bored as Mapi poured her heart out. She only spoke when Mapi's cries were reduced to quiet whimpers, telling her that she was depressed and shouldn't have taken on a load as big as a whole child when she was still clearly grieving her best friend.

The referral to the psychiatrist had only made the Spaniard feel worse, and she had returned to her apartment with less security in her decisions than she had before she went.

Another promise was made that day, and that was that she would never return to a psychologist, not unless she was forced to by the club. She would deal with everything else on her own.

~~~~~~

"You've been so good to me, Ingrid, and I'm so grateful. But I'm sorry, I can't do this. I can't have a girlfriend."

The words echoed through Ingrid's mind in the days that followed, unsure of what had happened, where she went wrong.

Mapi was the first person she'd become friends with, and she thought it was going well. She thought the Spaniard had liked her just as much as Ingrid liked the Spaniard, but clearly not. She had read the signs wrong or something, because you wouldn't say that to someone you liked.

She heard Isabel calling for her on the bus on the way home again, but this time she just smiled and waved.

She couldn't bring herself to sit next to Mapi, not when she had left her in the dust as soon as she recited her rehearsed lyric. It was confusion that she felt for a few days, but it didn't take long for that confusion to morph into anger and bitterness.

Frido had been understanding throughout it all, listening to all Ingrid's anger and confusion, advising her over and over to just talk to the Spaniard.

"She's got a child and we don't even know where she came from. It took her 14 months to start training again after giving birth when it usually takes up to 9. There must be something going on, Ingrid. She said she can't have a girlfriend, not that she doesn't want one."

The Norwegian had scowled, brushing off Frido's concern for Mapi and complaining that she was supposed to be on her side.

Frido was, but she was level-headed, she was smart. She wasn't blinded by anger or love or whatever Ingrid felt for the short centre-back with the adorable child.

"I don't want to talk to her, I don't want to go and beg. I just want it to be easy, I wish it was just easy."

Frido shook her head, an arm around Ingrid.

"It's not easy for an average person, let alone someone like Mapi who clearly has so much stuff going on. We don't know if she has anyone to talk to about anything, about raising a child."

"Alexia is like Isabel's other parent, she's been there since day one, apparently. Mapi's mum and Alexia were the only ones at the hospital when Isabel was born. She's not completely alone."

Ingrid shrugged but Frido frowned, becoming more and more curious about Mapi found herself with this child, and what the mystery was.

It wasn't her business, Frido knew that, but everyone was so proud of the Spaniard when she went back to training, her first game back. Their pride in the special centre back was more important than anything else after a long two years off.

And Mapi's emotions on that first day, the seemingly happy tears that she had wept in the changing room. They felt like more than happiness about a return to football.

Although, Frido couldn't be sure. Maybe Mapi just loved football more than anything else, a perfectly reasonable and realistic explanation to the emotions that were witnessed that day.

Ingrid knew it was more than that, more than just a return to football that had made her so happy. Because Ingrid knew Mapi, and while football was important to the Spaniard, it was nowhere near as important as her life outside of the sport: her friends, her family. Her daughter.

It was something that Ingrid was so drawn to. It was clear on the pitch how much she loved the sport, how she thrived when she was playing it. But outside of that... it was like she didn't play football.

Her apartment was like a sanctuary, a place cut off from the rest of the world where Isabel could live in naive happiness and Mapi could rest with her baby and her cat. It exuded happiness, bright colours and toys displayed, the fridge decorated with bits of scrap paper covered in a selection of scribbled lines. Mapi would draw Ingrid's attention over to the fridge when a new piece appeared, bragging about how her child was an artistic genius, how she would grow up to be just like her Mami.

She was so full of love for someone so small and it made Ingrid's heart weak, unable to fully comprehend the stark difference between Mapi at football and Mapi with Isabel.

She fell in love, she thought, with both versions of her.

With the one who would carelessly block dangerous shots, carefree and boisterous on the field, assertive and aggressive when she needed to be but always running off with a laugh afterwards. She lead the team in a way that even Alexia admired, the young players drawn to her uncanny ability to make everyone laugh.

She fell in love with the one who spoke in a childish voice, relishing in the never ending hugs and kisses that Isabel would provide, swinging her around in the park and never being more than a couple metres away from the baby that she loved so so much. A perfect mother with a perfect daughter, both so full of love for each other.

And Ingrid felt so lucky that she could see both sides of the Spaniard, that she could witness her around two things she loved so much and compare how differently she materialised her love for both of them.

But then she made her return to a competitive game, in Valencia with a perfect comeback.

Ingrid was so excited for her, happy to see her thriving on the field, a place she loved. She played brilliantly as well, quietening all the people who said she shouldn't be there, that she had spent too much time off.

She proved that she had, in fact, been that missing piece of Barcelona in their past two years of struggle, easily filling in the gap with her generational talent.

And the Norwegian was so proud, despite not knowing the whole story, not knowing all the challenges that Mapi had faced between the birth of Isabel and now. She knew enough to be proud and that is all that mattered.

She had smiled brightly at the Spaniard, walking towards her and pulling her into a hug ready to whisper her congratulations.

But Mapi had other plans, her words rendering Ingrid speechless as she walked away, back down the tunnel with Alexia's arm swung over her shoulders.

But the Norwegian felt frozen in time, unsure of what had just happened and why she said whatever she had just said.

She'd been pulled from her frozen state quickly by Frido, who had noticed the interaction and frowned.

It was easy for the Swede to recognise her best friend's crush, and also to recognise how it was so easily reciprocated by Mapi. She hadn't expected Mapi to say what she said to Ingrid, and was suddenly filled with overprotective and frustrated anger.

~~~~~~

Isabel had begun to miss Ingrid's presence after about a week. It was clear when Mapi took her out on her walks, her small head peering out of the pram, trying to spot the tall Norwegian with those warm and comfortable arms.

Mapi brushed it off every time, but it didn't help the pit in her stomach at all.

The Spaniard was lonely, she realised, and she had been since Isabel was born.

Sure, she had a person living with her, but there was only so much she could say to a baby so little without going crazy at the lack of response. Other than the word 'Mami', of course.

She was lonely before Ingrid, and it was only after she pushed the Norwegian away that she realised how she filled that hole so easily.

Conversation had fallen so easily between them and it filled the silences that Mapi had grown so used to as she lived her life with the baby. She enjoyed talking to someone about things that weren't about her grief, her baby.

She enjoyed talking about herself again, simultaneously getting to know Ingrid and  everything she stood for.

She fell for the Norwegian, quickly, but that wasn't hard for her to understand, it hadn't taken her long to realise it.

It was harder to realise that they couldn't be anything more than friends, that she had to push her away - the exact opposite to what she actually wanted to do. She knew Ingrid would be upset. That she'd be confused and angry.

But it's what she knew was right. At least it's what she thought was right.

She wasn't so sure anymore, her heart breaking a little bit more every time Isabel looked around for the Norwegian, her face falling at her absence over and over again.

"Ingrid!"

The lift doors opened to a sweaty Norwegian, headphones in and her eyes on her phone.

Isabel saw her first, Mapi's eyes also on her phone on the trip down.

Both of the adults looked up at each other, Ingrid almost immediately diverting her eyes down to Isabel who was beaming.

"Hello Is! I've missed you!" She smiled at Isabel, and Mapi's smile dimmed slightly.

It was a reminder of what she had pushed away, of everything she couldn't have.

The baby giggled happily, reaching her arms up to try and get Ingrid to lift her.

The Norwegian made eye contact with Mapi, silently checking if it was alright and the centre back nodded easily.

Ingrid tried to ignore the sadness in Mapi's eyes. Maybe the centre back did miss her. Maybe she did regret pushing her away.

Maybe there was a reason why she pushed her away, more than just to hurt the Norwegian.

She picked Isabel up easily and the baby fit perfectly on her hip, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her arms around her neck.

She looked over at Mapi, who was still somewhat frozen by the elevator door.

"Mami! Ingrid." She pointed at the Norwegian. "Play!"

Mapi shook her head.

"No, Is. Ingrid can't come with us."

The baby frowned, tilting her head at Mapi.

"Why?"

"Because she's just been on a walk! She can't go on two."

The Spaniard's voice was weak and Isabel's lip trembled, her smile disappearing as she understood her mother's words.

"No!"

She began to cry and Mapi stood frozen on the spot, completely unsure of what to do.

She wasn't a bad mother, she was better than this. She knew how to calm her crying baby but for some reason she just couldn't move.

She bit back her own tears, refusing to let Ingrid see her cry, to see her so weak and helpless with her baby when she was supposed to be a strong and independent mother.

Ingrid let Isabel cry into her neck, rocking her softly and staring at a frozen Spaniard.

"It's fine, Mapi. I can come."

She frowned at her still frozen form, unsure how else she could deal with the situation.

Mapi didn't know either, but she nodded, somewhat misunderstanding Ingrid's offer when she shoved the pram over to her.

"I can't, I can't deal with this right now." Mapi felt hysterical, but she tried desperately to keep it together. "Please just take her, calm her down. She hates me, she hates me so much."

It wasn't true, obviously, because Isabel loved Mapi more than anything.

But Ingrid knew Mapi, and she knew she wouldn't listen to anything that she had to say in attempts to comfort her.

"I'll take her, come back in an hour or so and you sort yourself out, Mapi. She's confused, she doesn't hate you. She just got used to me and then you got rid of me and is confused about it all. She's only little. So go back to your apartment, calm yourself down and sort yourself out. I'll calm her down and bring her back in one piece."

Mapi nodded aggressively, stepping backwards into the closed lift doors, awkwardly pressing the button as Ingrid walked away with her still crying baby.

It was only when she reached her apartment again that everything hit her. The confusion, the guilt, the stress, the embarrassment.

And she cried. She let everything out as loud as she could because for the first time in so long she was alone in the apartment, no child to hear her cry, no friends to help her work through the emotions.

It never worked, either. Crying was the best way for Mapi to release everything, she realised and she took advantage of the empty apartment as she realised that she hadn't been able to cheer her own daughter up, she had passed off to her teammate as she cried.

She was weak, she was a terrible mother.

She couldn't do it anymore.

Luis would be disappointed.

Worse, Luis would be heartbroken.

And that's what she thought as she fell asleep, the tears tiring her eyes until they dropped closed, sending her off to a restless sleep on the sofa.

~~~~~~

"Wake up, Mapi."

She must have forgotten to lock the door because Ingrid had walked in as she slept and was now sat on the other side of the sofa.

Mapi's eyes snapped open, looking around in confusion before sinking back into herself as she realised it was not just a dream.

"Isabel is ok. She's asleep and I put her down in her cot. She stopped crying pretty quickly and was happy at the park. She fell asleep in her pram on the way back."

Mapi nodded, sitting up and wiping her eyes.

"You need to tell me what's going on."

The Spaniard frowned. There was a lot going on.

"Which bit?" She smiled weakly, faltering under the Norwegian's harsh gaze.

"Why you said what you said. Why you just froze when Isabel was crying, practically running away and letting me deal with it. Why you came up here and cried yourself to sleep. I deserve to know this. I at least deserve to know why you pushed me away so easily and so suddenly."

If there was a time that Mapi wished the floor would swallow her whole, it was right then and there. Because she wasn't prepared for this conversation, she didn't know how she was supposed to have it without breaking down all over again.

It wasn't an easy topic, talking about why she can't date which is what had caused the whole debacle. It opened the whole story about Luis and how Isabel was created.

And of all times, this night was the worst possible time for Mapi to speak about Luis. Right after she realised how disappointed he would be in her parenting, how sad he would be that his daughter was being raised by someone so incapable.

It was funny, really, how one tiny situation could change Mapi's entire perspective, how it could completely destroy any confidence she had about her parenting abilities.

She didn't want to talk about it, not at all. But Ingrid was right there, a judgemental yet somewhat concerned eye focused on the Spaniard who seemed to be struggling to form a sentence.

The silence lasted multiple minutes and Ingrid was about to speak again right before Mapi opened her mouth.

She didn't know what she was going to say, but she knew she needed to say something, so she did.

She started at the beginning, with Isabel's health issues and Ingrid had no idea where it was going.

Why did it matter that Mapi's best friend's wife was sick?

But very quickly, as Mapi spoke about their desires to become parents, everything began to fall into place.

And the Norwegian was horrified by the tragic story she was hearing, a lump in her throat forming as the mother lamented how she was the only option left to raise Isabel, how she was alone in her final trimester until Alexia came over two weeks later and found out that Luis had died, that her best friend had been left behind with his unborn baby, her life changed forever.

His genetics still growing inside her long after he took his final breaths.

Mapi didn't stop as her voice broke, moving away from the topic of Luis and onto how much Isabel meant to her, how much she worried that she would make a mistake, that her friends would have made such better parents than she did.

How she had to have full focus on raising Isabel and couldn't be distracted by anything - she couldn't be distracted by football in the beginning which is why she took so long to come back. How she can't be distracted by a girlfriend now, which is why she pushed Ingrid away.

Ingrid wiped a tear away as Mapi's fell freely, continuing to explain how she had been depressed but unable to get herself any help after the one disastrous trip to the psychologist.

How she felt incapable of unloading her issues onto others, only telling Alexia the necessary stuff to stop her from nagging.

"Luis would be so disappointed in me because I have ruined everything. I can't do anything by myself and I never should have agreed to keep her. I love her so much, I don't want to ruin her."

That was where the Spaniard stopped, seemingly overcome with emotion as she broke down into her hands, Ingrid quick to move to her side and pull her into a warm hug.

"You're so wrong, Mapi. So wrong. I've never heard anyone be more wrong in my life. You are the best mother Isabel could ask for and it hurts that you can't see that."

Mapi could only cry, too conflicted to even try and decide what was true.

"Ale said I needed to talk to you, to fix things. Because I don't want you to hate me and I definitely don't hate you. But Ingrid, we can't just be friends, you know that."

She looked up at the Norwegian, who easily noticed the anguish all over her face.

"Why don't we try? See where it takes us. We can figure it out together, Mapi, you don't have to do everything alone."

She nodded, trying to convince the both of them that they could try.

And Mapi nodded hesitantly.

"Isabel does like you."

Ingrid chuckled quietly, nodding.

"Not as much as she loves you. She was asking for you about 2 minutes after we left. You are so good to her."

Mapi smiled, leaning into Ingrid's embrace.

"I don't think I can be just friends with you, Ingrid. I think that's why I've been so upset."

Ingrid hummed in agreement, waiting for her to continue.

"I've been so worried about losing you and so worried about being distracted from Is. But I don't think I ever could be, I don't think you'd ever let me be."

The Norwegian chuckled.

"I don't think she'd ever let you, she loves the attention too much."

And just like that, Mapi knew.

Ingrid was the right person, the person Alexia had been going on about for years, since before Isabel was even considered.

"And Mapi?"

Mapi looked up, her eyes meeting Ingrid's.

"I don't think I could ever just be friends with you either."

She smiled, placing her hand around Mapi's neck and drawing her close.

Mapi leaned in closer and waited for Ingrid to finally close that small gap.

And then Ingrid's lips were on hers, a promise, a declaration of love.

And Mapi made another promise to herself, right then and there.

She would never let Ingrid go.

~~~~~~

right so that’s the end! hope you’ve enjoyed so far!

not the end of Isabel Leon because I already have a few requests for her that have been thought about or planned (some of them)

I also have the blurb of her at the Olympics (2032) doing her sport that nobody has guessed so I’ll give you an obvious clue - it’s an action sport lol

I’m considering putting her in something else too but they’re like polar opposite disciplines so let me know if you think yes or no

and please send me requests because I want to write more about Isabel!

thanks for reading and for the love on this story, you’ve made me cry from all the nice messages

have a good day :)

[puckleberryfinnie]

ok so ik my req might seem a bit weird butttttt.. i have been dyingggg for ray. like his body tea, i loveeee his lil accent and smile so i just wanna see like host!reader get nervous when he gets injured, him giving reader his jersey, and a lil post-game smooch 🫶🏾🫶🏾.

girll you don't understand how glad I am that someone else feels this way about him like I feel so wrong about it but?? he's such a cutie?? thank you soso much for sending this in, love this idea <33 so sorry this took so long, life took hold of meee

Beautiful Little Fools

You being a friend of Kai's, and being in several of his streams as an internet personality yourself. Of course, you meet several of his friends, including Ray. He's just using his cheesy "rizz" with Kai's encouragement, and you're laughing on to all his funny tactics.

When the Beta Squad and AMP decide to have the match, there's almost immediately an invitation for you to join in as a host, that you accept gratefully!

The days leading up to the event, you spend a lot of time hanging out with the American group, as well as meeting new people that you become fast friends with.

Ray, however, stays close to either you or Kai at most points, finding himself most comfortable with people he knows pretty well already. Everyone (thought mostly Kai) loves the relationship you two have, and joke around about it a LOT.

You, of course, enjoy his company and help him with training that they have set up for those participating the day before the real match. It's mostly just simple things, though, like returning the balls to him or mock-guarding him.

At some point during the practice, he gets slightly injured, tripping over a ball or something like that. It really isn't that bad, but you find it concerning, especially considering the big match is the following day.

He, however, reassures you, comforting you by patting your head and giving you a brief hug. He doesn't like you being worried about it, so he tried to make sure you understand he's okay.

The next day is obviously intense, and you spend a lot of time making sure Ray is safe, keeping an eye on him throughout the game. You interview him at halftime momentarily, joking around together before he has to go. You also remind him to be safe out there, yelling after him.

He clearly doesn't follow this advice too closely, however, and ends up getting tackled by some larger player (probs Niko lets be so fr) You, of course, feel incredibly scared, watching him from the sidelines all while trying to keep composure as a host.

As he gets guided to the bench to rest, you move yourself over there to talk to him, frantically making sure he's ok. You end up in his arms, him holding you tightly.

After that interaction and him assuring you plenty that he's alright, you go back to doing your job as a host, interviewing other players and such.

Post game, he comes back to see you, striding over to you with intent. It startles you for a moment, when you suddenly see him standing so close to you. He give a short hug followed by a even shorter, nervous kiss.

After a moment of staring at each other, he takes off his jersey, handing it to you with a smile. He doesn't even say anything, just holds it out for you to take.

You end up wearing that jersey on your flight back and on many occasions afterwards. <3

guys I legit don't know why but I really can't tell if I like this style of writing or not. let me know what you think, I'm soso sorry this isn't very good, I truly hope you still enjoy <33

title is a song from great gatsby the musical ofc

anyways, thank you sososo much for being my first ever request, I love you to the moon and back tbh!!

I definitely want to do more of these before school starts to make everything crazy again, so if anyone wants to send something in feel completely free and wanted within my inbox! I'll take requests about pretty much anyone (check out the list of things I love for some reference!!) or I'm for sure here to chat <33

MUAH LOVE YA!!

[catfishofoldin99colours]

it's SO interesting seeing how different people react to the story of mouthwashing and how it unfolds, particularly the element of playing as curly and Jimmy

Having seen both gab smolders and jacksepticeye play it now, it's interesting seeing how differently they react to it all

Gab reacts to it similar to how she reacts to most pov horror games she plays, in that she takes the story in stride and the actions of the characters are accepted and interpreted through a lens of understanding that this is a horror story, and everyone is the worst version of themselves. What surprises her the most is just *how* intense the themes and suffering gets, such as the cannabalism and sheer vitriol Jimmy says to curly, but she's not surprised that Jimmy is awful at all. Even him being the main pov character for majority of the game play doesn't necessarily make any reveals about him (he got Anya pregnant, he was the one who crashed the ship) into a lesser being in her head, she's more intrigued by what they reveal about the story. That's not to say she thinks he's great at all, but any information doesn't take him down from a pedestal in her head because she never had one on him in the first place.

Given she loves horror stories and horror games and frequently talks about the horror books she reads, this makes sense. She's primed to come to a horror story knowing it's a tragedy and no one is good and accepts that immediately.

Jack, on the other hand, interprets the lenses of Jimmy as the inherent main character, and he is, but jack takes it as, 'he is the victim the story is happening to' rather than 'he is as much complacent and active in the horrors going on as the story wants to make him experience.' he gives Jimmy a normal voice when reading out his dialogue, and everyone else gets some kind of voice acting - a deviation from the norm, which is immediately Jimmy in his eyes. Even curly gets a rough scratchy voice and through that until jack sees his face, it can inferred jack sees him as the grizzled old man that Jimmy arguably is instead of curly (tho in the wake of most people seeing curly as nothing but a victim and incapable of causing any harm when he very much did, this is kind of refreshing to me).

It's only when Swansea is dead and Jimmy is REALLY descending into madness, that jack considers the idea that Jimmy may be the bad guy, and that in turn, he has been perpetuating many actions that have led to the horrible situation getting worse.

Interestingly, the puzzle - gab, who up until that point has been thoroughly horrified by everything that does happen and how graphic the game has been, seems to find a sort of dissociative comfort in making the pipes line up so curly can digest his own leg. Meanwhile jack cannot stop focusing on the horror of making curly digest his own leg to the point that he takes a while to figure out how the puzzle works to complete it, and eventually settles into a very uncomfortable silence as he makes it work.

It's two really interesting ways that this game has been interpreted and I kinda fucking love thinking about it.

[theemporium]

Hey Cece, happy Monday! I'm not sure if you're taking requests right now but if you are I'd (please) love fem driver x Charles or Daniel. Maybe after a race doesn't go so well she barges into the after party (in front of everyone) and demands one of them fuck her right this second 👀 thank you x

it is very much not monday anymore, i am so sorry but thank you for requesting!🖤

.

The tension had been lingering for months before this race weekend.

Everyone knew there was something brewing between you and the Aussie driver. The two of you knew it too and you both constantly toed the line of friends or something more, but there was always something holding you back from making the move.

But this weekend was different. 

It was meant to be a good weekend. Your pace was good. The car felt good. You were setting fast laps for all three practices. You even qualified pretty fucking well on Saturday afternoon in peperation for the race. But the second lights out were called, everything seemed to go to shit. 

Between bad strategy calls and even worse luck with safety cars and pit stops, you had been on edge since the race ended. You were frustrated, pissed and you needed something to take your anger out on—and getting shit-faced wasn’t enough for tonight. 

You needed something more. 

Scratch that—you needed someone. 

You had stormed into the party looking as pretty as death herself in the little black dress you slipped on, the two shots you had before you left your room only fuelling your determination as you strided through the party like it was for you—and not Max who had won the race. 

Your eyes locked on the Aussie driver as you made your way across the cramped club, pushing through the throng of dancing people until you made it to the booth where Daniel was sitting with a few other drivers and Red Bull team members.

You stopped short by the booth, your hands crossed over your chest. 

“Fucking hell, sunshine,” Daniel grinned up at you, shamelessly letting his eyes wander your figure as he took in the sight of you. “You’re looking gorgeous tonight. Is this all for little ol’ me?” 

But you were done with the teasing remarks and the back and forth game. You wanted him and you wanted to know if you were wasting your time. 

“Are you gonna fuck me or not, Ricciardo?” 

Max, who was sitting next to the Aussie driver, had all but choked on his drink as the words left your mouth, smacking his chest as he looked between the two of you with wide eyes. 

Daniel laughed nervously. “What?”

But you didn’t hesitate as you leaned over, one hand leaning on the table and the other placed on the booth just behind his head. “I have had a shit day and I need some help working things off,” you said, your voice a little lower than usual and you didn’t miss the way his eyes fell to your lips. “Now, are you gonna finally stop pissing around and fuck me, or do I need to find someone else to do it?” 

He quickly shook his head. “I’m your man, sunshine.” 

“Good. Then fuck me.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Neither one of you could be bothered waiting for a taxi to head back to the hotel, so Daniel had quickly linked your hands together and guided you towards the bathrooms at the back of the club. You both quickly scampered in, locking the door behind you before your hands were all over each other. 

“I’m gonna fuck every thought out of that pretty head of yours,” Daniel groaned from behind you as he pushed the material of your dress to your hips, tugging your panties to the side before he slid inside you, swearing at how wet and tight you were. 

“Please,” you moaned out, your hands gripping the edge of the sink as you felt him bottom out inside you.

“That’s it, beg for me,” he whispered in your ear, his hands caging you in against the sink as he began to thrust his hips, each one hard and deep. “Beg for me to fuck you dumb.” 

“Fuck me until I can’t think,” you whined to him, your eyes meeting his heated gaze in the mirror as he grinned back at you. 

“Gonna make sure my name is the only thing you remember, sunshine.”

.

[wosoragebaiter69]

they’re idiots

patri guijarro x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: i love patri sm, and again naturally if my writing needs to improve just gimme a shout

TW: mentions of panic attack

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The game was won, it was a very nice win. A comfortable 9-1, and that was fine. What wasn’t fine however were the fans after the game. In one area in particular they just kept throwing shirt and anything for us players to sign. I see Patri, my girlfriend getting frustrated at everything that’s happening and it doesn’t take a genius to see how overwhelmed she is.

Over the past few weeks it seems that the hate towards her has become obscurely large. How could anyone hate her? Especially now that she’s just gone and scored two. As much as she likes to say it doesn’t bother her I know it does and I hate to see the way she loses confidence over meaningless peoples opinions.

I walk over to the section in which fans are screaming, at this point i’m not sure how we can call them fans if they act like this. Alexia and some of the others are kicking game balls into the crowd. I stand right next to Patri, placing my hand on her lower back. She looks surprised, but continues with the overwhelming amount of fans who came to watch.

Around 5 minutes later, I can’t stand to watch her practically near a panic attack. So I say goodbye to the fans and drag her into the tunnel with me, leading her toward an area where no one would be for the time being.

“Patri? Amor, can you look at me?” I whisper, touching her forearm softly. She hesitates and looks up.

It’s then that I can see how conflicted her eyes look, how they’re slightly covered in a layer of tears, how it looks like she’s struggling to breathe. I immediately know what’s wrong.

“Hey, hey. Sit down on the floor with me. Come on.” I guide her making sure her back is rested against the wall. She looks straight up at the ceiling, trying to keep her tears at bay. My heart breaks a little.

“Amorcita, breathe with me. Feel my heartbeat got it?” I take her hand and place it on my heart as I start making exaggerated breathing patterns to help get her back to reality.

“There you go, just like that. You’re ok, they can’t see you. They can’t harm you. It’s just me.” I notice by her movements that she’s coming back. Something which I smile lightly at.

“Gracias” She says so lightly that I can barely hear her. All I do is smile.

We sit against the wall, no words need to be said. Until Alexia in all her glory strides down the hallway in her white fit.

“Hola.” She greets with a smile coming to stand in front of us.

“I suggest you two get back to the changing rooms. Nearly everyone is there, they sent me looking.” She then shifts her focus to my girlfriend.

“Patri, I’m sorry you have to be dealing with all of this stuff. It’s not easy. Just try not to get too worked up. Only makes it worse for yourself.”

“Thanks Ale.” She looks up at the captain who smiles before heading back to the change rooms.

“Well, we should probably go. After our showers, we’ll go back to the apartment and I’ll take your phone.” She looks at me questioningly. “So you don’t go into a spiral of bad thoughts. I know how you are. I won’t let that happen. Ok?” She nods and I pull her up heading back into the changing rooms. The girls all look happy but also worn down, I can empathise with that from all the trainings and games we’ve done.

Still there is a slight buzz in the air after the impressive win. Even if some exhaustion is the cost.

- - - - -

When Patri and I arrive back home, I stick to my word and she hands me her phone reluctantly. I put both of our phones in my bedside drawer and arrive in the living room to be greeted with Patri on the couch, two glasses of water on the coffee table and one of the Hunger Games movies starting to play on the tv.

I walk over smiling and sit down on the couch cuddling into Patri who only smiles. This is a good way to end the day all things considered.

“Te amo, Patri.”

“Yo también te amo, cariño.” She kisses the top of my head, turning her focus back to the screen.

[thebroccolination]

Hey so hi! Hi there!

Quick li’l baby gripe:

If there’s one thing I’d adore fans to stop doing in 2025, it’s dog-fighting the queer media industries of Asian countries against each other.

Yeah? Sound good?

Over the last several years, I’ve seen hundreds of English-speaking fans in the comment sections across all social media uplifting China, South Korea, Thailand, Taiwan, Japan, etc. only in order to dunk on another Asian country. This is 1) super unnnecessary, 2) rude, and, indeed, 3) a form of racism.

“China’s censored BLs are the best even without all the gross fetishizing sex scenes in Thai BLs!” (Note: “Fetish” is going on the top shelf until y’all learn what it means.)

“Japanese BLs are superior to the rest of Asia can’t beat the kings of the genre I’m so sorry everything else is subpar lol”

“Japanese BLs are so BORING compared to Thai BLs!!”

“Taiwan’s BLs used to be great but South Korea’s production quality is coming for y’all.”

Like???

You see it, right?

Simplifying a country’s entire queer media industry so you can use it as your own personal Pokémon to take down another country’s entire queer media industry is a phenomenally disrespectful thing to do with your internet access. Like, in the vast majority of cases I’ve seen, these are English-speaking fans who aren’t even from the countries in question. This isn’t “my country is better than yours,” which is a different, childish thing to do; this is, as far as I can tell, mostly western fans pitting Asian countries against each other like they’re sports teams.

Doing this undermines the incredible progress made in Asian queer media and perverts it into a game of fantasy football where people seem to be rooting for one country against another. This is so absurdly cruel and immature for no reason, especially when you’re a guest in these fandoms.

Going forward, I want to see more fans celebrating this beautiful genre. Cheering on the fantastic strides taken across all of Asia. To explore and consume the sheer variety of queer media coming out of every country, not just the most popular titles or the easiest to access. To delve into all the very specific political, cultural, socioeconomic, and historic circumstances behind each industry’s challenges and victories so you appreciate how difficult these series are to produce and market and protect for future generations.

Queer media is a miracle in a world ravaged by the homophobic aftermath and present influence of colonialism, and it only exists thanks to the tireless effort, courage, and passion of people who deserve our accolades. Don’t just passively take these series at surface value. Look into them. Look at the risks people are taking.

This is art and bravery and love, and if you’re going to be here, you should show these people the respect they’re due.

Leave this weird practice of pitting countries against each other in the past. Be part of the joy in everyone’s achievements.

For fuck’s sake.

Thank you.

🏳️‍🌈

[richarlotte]

High Class Dating.

I’m spending the summer interning in New York before I move to California and I’ve not had any trouble at all when it comes to getting dates, meeting men, or being taken out. I do sugar date and date hypergamously because if you’ve not leveled up your dating game in 2024, you’re missing out. I think it’s imperative to only except dates with men that make you feel good, have good careers and have something to offer, and make an effort to treat you like a lady. 2024 is the decade of the black woman and I know what I want so it’s time for me to get it. I’ve been dating since I was 18, I’m not a love guru by any means but I hold my own, and I love going out and having a good time with high quality men who will treat me well and show me their lifestyle.

My Stats.

As a background, here are my stats: I’m about 5’11 and weigh 140 pounds, I’m dark skin, and I have alopecia (I do wear a wig). Am I drop dead gorgeous? I’m not Jasmine Tookes but I’m confident and love the way I look, I’ve taken time to level up, I have a good workout routine and a toned body, and I’ve made strides with my personal style and makeup skills over the past few years. I’m happy to make posts related to the process that I went through when I started leveling up, the changes I made to my style and to my makeup routine, and the workout routine and some of the food I eat to keep myself healthy and motivated. I don’t believe in dating out of desperation and I think that it’s always important to make an effort if you are a woman; if you make an effort and know your audience then you’ll find that it’s easier to meet people and go to better places.

A few of my dates.

I went to lunch at the Penn Club with a man who I met on Hinge. He’s a successful young plastic surgeon and we spoke for two days before he asked me out on his first day off. He was tall, had big brown eyes and a strong jaw, handsome, an excellent conversationalist, and very intelligent. He made such an effort to take me somewhere beautiful, treat me well, and make sure that I was having fun and he had so much potential. I really liked our date and think it’s one of the best I’ve been on since I landed in New York for my internship.

I went to Martha’s Vineyard for Fourth of July weekend with another date. His family owns a huge house on the island and I’d mentioned to him that I wanted to go somewhere that felt luxurious so he invited me and a few of my friends to visit. It was a beautiful long weekend and I got to do so much; we swam, cooked, watched the fireworks, danced, listened to so much good music, and got to know each other better. I love a man who comes for money and has his own money but is still humble and he is the definition of a good guy.

I feel like every girl has her own story about going out with an NHL player but OMG let me tell you mine. I went out with a Swedish NHL player and these wealthy Scandinavian men and athletes love black women. People will try to say that they only like thin blondes but this man treated me like a princess, he still sends me gifts, he got me tickets for the Stanley Cup finals, and he’s an angel with the most beautiful accent I’ve ever heard. I slid into his DMs on IG and then he was messaging me an hour later, liking all my pics, and asking me if I’ve ever been to Sweden. I’m going to try to go visit Stockholm in December to try to see him during Christmas when I know he’ll be back at home.

How I meet men.

I use Bumble, Hinge, and the good old-fashioned way of leading people in person. I can do a post on the best way I’ve met people in person and some of the venues I like. I think everyone who reads this will agree that there’s just something about a man who treats you well, is strong, and has a thick wallet and good looks. Every girl deserves a guy like that and I think it’s important that black women do not take any bullshit and don’t compromise on what they want. There are men out there who would drop everything in their hands to do something for me, the princess treatment isn’t a myth at all, and I have met so many men who are able and willing to invest in me and my lifestyle. Again, if you know what you want, then you’re going to get it but you have to be willing to put the work in.

Richarlotte x

[littleplantfreak]

Roadtrip headcanons

I had these in a draft for two weeks until @the-bofurin-digest started talkin about how amazing Togame would be on a roadtrip so I'm dedicating them to you ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (I was gonna let them rot in my wip docs before i saw the post)

Umemiya Hajime

- It depends on the trip but most likely he's prepared everything to a T. If something doesn't pan out in regards to travel time or itinerary he's the type to take it in stride and just enjoy being with everyone.

-Starts up conversations with random people at rest stops/destinations they visit and has to be dragged away because dude we've been here for half an hour and all they have are vending machines.

- Not so secretly likes being a passenger princess. I mean he'll drive no sweat but he loves watching everything passing by the window or turning around to make conversation with everyone. He will help the driver with anything they need tho whether it's a change in station, drinks, or navigation.

-Has the most insane ideas/questions for in-car games. No Sakura doesn't know what he'd do if Ume turned into a worm, but now he has dreams about it.

-If he's not driving he usually knocks out immediately on the way back home. (watch out he drools)

Hiragi Toma

-Please don't let Umemiya sit up front while he drives. In fact, put him in a whole other car (depending on how many of them go that may actually be plausible.)

-Super reliable driver, though if he claims he has a handle on his road rage, he does not. It doesn't affect how he drives nor is he usually yelling, but you can see his shoulders become increasingly tense the more bad drivers he spots. Needs to be fed medicine occasionally for his stomach.

-Not a snacker in the car but he won't turn down a coffee.

-He's good with directions, so whoever rides with him is in no danger of getting lost. Also no soldier is left behind when Hiragi is in charge and he check frequently after every rest/bathroom stop to make sure everyone and everything are in the car. -If the trip is to the beach or some other place where he can relax, he'll definitely take a power nap esp if they left home early.

-Plays his music on the way back home when everyone is sleeping.

Tsubaki Tasuku

-It's a great time no matter where Tsubaki is in the car. She drives and sings or sits passenger and sings. It's impressive how many songs she knows by heart actually. Chalk it partially up to her close relationship with Shizuka.

-When she's not singing, she has a thousand different stories to tell, so no one ever really gets bored. Opts for silence only when necessary, however if she's driving, she really would prefer someone talks to her.

-Kotoha's her go-to passenger in the front, but if she's not there/in a different car she'll just choose anyone not prone to sleeping the whole trip.

-Has a preference for cookies or sweets as an in-car snack.

Kaji Ren

-Sticks with his lollipops as a snack in the car.

-Not a fan of driving even when he has his license. Passenger or back seat for him please.

-Brings CDs and lets people use them but keeps his own headphones in most of the time, which is fine because he's not one for just talking about whatever for hours in the car.

-He curls into his hoodie when he passes out either to or from wherever the trip is. Even if the driver hits a pothole and his head bounces off the window, he stays knocked out, which is both concerning and hilarious.

Sakura Haruka

-Gets motion sick if he's not in the front, either as the driver when he's older or as the passenger. Unfortunately did not know this until the trip started and struggled to hold it in before making everyone stop by the side of the road while he dry heaved.

-If he's at driving age, he's actually a relaxed driver after the first few months of him getting his license. Prefers country driving to city no question though. It ends up being therapeutic for him to take long drives when he's older.

-Don't ask him to use the fancy new car radios that only have the screen, he'll end up with the heat on somehow in the middle of summer instead of changing the station. It's funny to watch him try and work it out until everyone's sweating buckets.

-Perks up if he sees a good food place and remembers it so they can stop there on the way back. Eats whatever he can grab in the car so long as he isn't sick.

[lyraa-kill]

Here’s a little ghost x gaz fic I wrote at midnight lol. TW for mcd(soap) and grief

If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead, here’s the link!

Johnny’s death devastated the whole team, but it killed Simon and Kyle the most. They were his lover and best friend, after all. There’s a Johnny sized hole in their universe now, and neither of them know how to deal with the grief, the immense loss they never prepared themselves to one day have to deal with.

It takes a few weeks before either of them come off of auto pilot, stop going through the motions of their day and of missions without feeling like theyre robots being controlled by an automated system. When they do, they end up bumping into each other more, taking more notice of the other. Noticing the same emotions in the other as the ones they’re feeling. The same tired, sunken eyes and lifeless skin, the same horrible posture and fidgets when things just get too quiet.

It’s late at night, Kyle’s grabbing a late night drink when Simon waltzes into the common area kitchen as well. He stands there and stares for a minute before he moves past Kyle and gets to the fridge. He tries not to think of the similar nights he had with Johnny like this, tries not to think of the time he picked him up and put him on the counter and kissed him like he never would again. God, he wishes he had kissed him just one more time.

“Can’t sleep either?” Kyle asks, his voice light and a little gruff. He hasn’t been speaking much the last few weeks, so his vocal cords are out of tune.

“Nope. Usual, though,” Simon responds, grabbing a jug of apple juice and pouring it into a cup.

Neither he nor Kyle comment on the fact Johnny was the one that had bought this jug, had loved this specific brand of apple juice probably more than he loved Simon. But they both notice it. They always notice the little things Johnny’s left behind that they hadn’t before.

“Don’t I know it,” Kyle jokes, breathing out a small chuckle.

Simon laughs a little too, joining Kyle in standing with his back against the counter top, glass loosely held in his hand at hip level.

There’s a lot of unspoken words between them. They don’t know what to say, don’t know if they should bring up how much shit sucks and what they’re feeling or pretend like everything is okay. But they both have an innate knowing that the other person is just as lost as they are, that their world is a little darker now. That nothing makes as much sense as it did before. Seriously, how can they be living and Johnny just be gone? Gone? It seems about as ridiculous as the sky being green and the grass being blue.

“You holding up alright?” Simon asks, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

Kyle swallows the rock in his throat. Takes another sip of his glass of water. Finally, he manages to answer, “Best as I can, sir.”

Simon rolls his eyes. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your lieutenant right now.”

“Hm? What are you then?”

Simon sighs and rubs his eyes. “A friend, I hope.”

They sit in silence again, until Simon notices that Kyle is crying. He’s silent, but tears are still rolling down his cheeks. His throat is bobbing with unreleased sobs. His left hand is gripping the counter top so hard his fingers are losing color.

Simon immediately sets his glass down, striding over to Kyle and wrapping his arms around him. He was fine to deal with his grief alone, had already done it for everyone else that had mattered to him, but he didn’t want Kyle to suffer by himself. Someone as good as him didn’t deserve that.

Instantly, Kyle melts into the hug and all the sobs and wails he had been holding back are coming out. He grips onto Simon’s t-shirt like he’s going to go away too, like he’ll lose another person he cares for. Simon keeps his grip steady. Letting Kyle cry into him for as long as he needs. He sheds a few tears as well, but not that many. He’s more of a suffer in peace kind of man.

“Fuck- s-sorry, I-“ Kyle stammers, wiping away his tears while Simon continues to hold him.

“I know,” Simon says, “You don’t need to apologize.”

“This just really fucking sucks, you know?” Kyle laughs while releasing a few more sobs.

Simon answers with sorrow, “Yeah. It really fucking blows.”

They stand there in silence while Kyle tries to compose himself and fails, and Simon awkwardly keeps holding him because he doesn’t know how to help someone through the loss of their best friend when that person was also your boyfriend and almost fiancé.

“I miss him too,” Simon mutters, “Captain does too, I’m sure. You’re not by yourself.”

“I-i know, I know. But it’s different. To cap, he was another soldier, really. Sure he cared for him, but he wasn’t his friend. He- he didn’t- he wasn’t close with him like I was. And you, fuck- you loved him. Like, really loved him. And I kinda didn’t. It’s probably so much worse for you and-“

“Don’t say that,” Simon interrupts, “You love him too. Maybe different than I do, but you do.”

“I know. Fuck- I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Kyle.” Simon says before he ends the hug and stands there in front of him, one hand on his shoulder.

In his mind, Simon imagines Johnny watching them. Not as a ghost, but more as just… energy? A presence? He doesn’t know how to describe it. But it seems like he can feel Johnny, so close and yet so far away, like he’s right there but he just can’t reach out for him. How would Johnny feel, watching his boyfriend and best friend cry together and be so consumed by the pain of losing him?

Then he remembers that Johnny can’t feel anything, that he’s dead and gone, and there’s nothing left of him in the world anymore. Just some ash in a fucking lake and a near expired carton of juice.

He starts to cry too, and now it’s Kyle’s turn to pull him into a hug and comfort him.

They stand there, holding each other as their cries fill the other wise silent room. Neither of them had thought that crying it out with someone would feel so nice, so freeing. Like the grief wasn’t all consuming and could be dealt with. It felt like through their shared feelings, Johnny was alive in some way. Is a person dead once they’re no longer here, or when people stop caring that they’re no longer here?

After that night, when either of them are feeling too overwhelmed, feeling the inky darkness of loss wrapping around their heart, they seek out the other. It doesn’t matter what’s happening or what they’re doing. They’ll make the time. Whether it’s Kyle dragging Simon out of office hours where he’s doing paperwork to be held and cry or Simon finding Kyle at the gun range and bawling into his t-shirt, they’re there for each other. Price too, when he opens up about how much he misses Johnny. But it’s different with him. He didn’t care for Johnny as much as they did.

Eventually, Simon and Kyle hang out together when they’re not crying and spiraling into a hole, becoming friends in their own right outside of their loss. They’ll sit in the common area and watch a movie together, side by side on the couch and sharing a blanket and popcorn. It felt weird to laugh at first, but they got used to it. Smiles no longer felt like betrayal after a while, it just felt like the warmth of friendship.

It continues into them eventually being able to talk about Johnny. Share their memories. Laugh about that crazy, damn near feral Scot and all the fun they used to have together. Kyle recounts the time they snuck off base in the middle of the night to get drunk in some field. Simon tells how Johnny one time stole all his t shirts because Simon refused to tell him what his birthday present was going to be.

They share what they missed about him. Simon wishes he could’ve yelled at him about leaving his hair all over the sink when he shaved one more time. Kyle misses hearing explosions go off when they were out in the field and knowing Johnny was having the time of his life. Simon misses waking up and seeing the golden rays of sun dance across his skin so perfectly, like a painting. Kyle wishes he could’ve played one more game of cards with him over lunch.

One day, Simon starts to feel strange. He notices when he’s trying to fall asleep that he hadn’t thought of Johnny at all that day. Not once. Most days he’s consumed with thinking about him. Wait, it wasn’t just that day. It was the day before too. Wait, what?

He sits and thinks. What was he even doing? Everything reminds him of Johnny, because it’s like he can see his ghost all around base. Everywhere he looks is somewhere he had once stood. What was he thinking of instead?

Then, he realizes. Kyle. His mind had been consumed by Kyle instead. He was thinking of how he looked the night prior when they were watching a movie in the dark living room and the blue highlights from the film looked beautiful contrasted next to his dark skin. Thought of running to the store to grab him more of that ice cream he likes. Thought of seeing him later and being excited for it.

His blood runs ice cold. He remembers when he was falling in love with Johnny and he felt the same way. Couldn’t get him out of his head, couldn’t stop recounting every second they had spent together. Just like he was doing with Kyle.

That- no. He can’t. He can’t love Kyle. He loves Johnny. Loved, whatever. Johnny is his boyfriend. Was. Fuck.

He rolls around and buries his face in a pillow. He thinks of Kyle’s face, and he thinks of Johnny’s Side by side. Which would he pick?

He ponders it before he gets angry. He can’t pick, because Johnny’s dead. He has one option and a bunch of discarded ash.

He briefly thinks of kissing Kyle the way he did Johnny, and cringes before he bolts up right and starts to breathe like he’s losing air. Not because the thought disgusts him, but because it excites him. The same way he was excited when he thought of kissing Johnny for the first time.

No no no- no. He can’t do this. He can’t betray Johnny, especially with his best fucking friend. What sort of despicable cheating fucking monster is he to do that to him? He can’t. This is ridiculous. He can’t love Kyle. He can’t do that to Johnny.

He does the only thing he knows how to do in this situation. He ignores Kyle. Moves past him in the mess when they would normally sit together. Says he’s not feeling well when Kyle offers to watch another movie or play a dumb card game with him. Flat out ignores him when he offers to go down to the range and practice shooting.

He thought it would be easy, thought that if he refocused his mind back on Johnny he could forget all about Kyle, forget about the bubbling feeling in his heart when he sees him from across the room, how pretty his full lips and walnut eyes are. How beautiful his muscled arms look slightly bulging from the sleeves of his shirt. His well his pants fit over the whole of his legs. How his voice sounds like bells and lemonade on a summer day back home.

It goes on for weeks. Simon can tell Kyle is upset, frustrated, and confused. But he just can’t betray Johnny like that. He needs time to be away from Kyle so he can forget about those ridiculous feelings. Try and remember how Johnny’s voice sounds and how his body felt wrapped up in his, before he forgets for good. He would forget it all if he got with Kyle. And he doesn’t want to forget Johnny. He wants to keep him nestled safe in his heart forever, lock it down and declare it his and only his. But there’s a crack in the chains he’s binding, his heart too full to be contained to what he wants to limit it to. And it’s hurting him.

It all comes to a head when he gets back to the barracks of the 141, the common area unlit until he switches on the light to take his shoes off and he notices Kyle sitting with his arms crossed and a sour expression on his face on the couch.

Simon begins to take his boots off, going to pretend Kyle isn’t even there, until the man gets up and strides over to him, kicking his shin to make him look up at him.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Kyle asks.

“Busy.” Simon answers.

“Don’t lie to me.” Kyle’s words are full of venom and pure rage. He’s fucking furious at having been ignored.

“‘M not lying.” Simon mutters, kicking off his shoes with his boot and trying to brush past Kyle.

Kyle grabs his arm and pulls him back with force Simon didn’t know he had.

“You’re not going to ignore me anymore, Simon. Tell me what’s going on.”

Simon looks at Kyle, really looks at him. Notices the way his eyes are dark with rage, the dark bags beneath that are the worst he’s ever seen them. Notices the way he’s biting the inside of his lip, probably to keep himself grounded because of how intense his emotions are. The way his fist keeps clenching and unclenching, how he’s standing on the tops of his feet rather than the whole.

And fuck, he really can’t deny that he loves it all anymore. Really can’t deny that everything about Kyle draws him in and makes his heart want more and more, to take all it can possibly get. And it’s so strange, because Kyle is nothing like Johnny. He doesn’t tease as much. He’s not as crazy or wild. Doesn’t laugh as much, doesn’t compliment him as much. Isn’t so sure and defensive of all his opinions, doesn’t insult. Doesn’t laugh when he jams a knife into an enemies neck and blood goes flying everywhere. What does he see in Kyle that he wants so goddamn badly?

“I can’t,” Simon mutters, his voice cracking as his eyes drop to the floor. Tears start to form, but he tries to hold them back.

Kyle looks at him for a few moments. “Simon?” He asks, not angry anymore, “Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t.” Simon says again, his voice filled with the tears he’s refusing to let come out of his eyes.

“Why not?”

“You’re going to hate me. I hate me.”

“I won’t hate you,” Kyle says, gripping Simon’s arms and tugging him closer. “Just- please. Tell me. So I can fix it. I- I don’t- I don’t want to lose you too.”

Simon’s heart breaks. It never occurred to him that he was all Kyle really had. Johnny was his only friend and Simon a strange “more than acquaintance but not really friend but also a friend”, so after he was gone and he and Simon started to become closer, that was all he had left. These last few weeks he’s been completely alone with no idea of what the reason why could be. Simon is such a piece of fucking shit for doing that to someone he claims to love, apparently more than he did Johnny.

He starts to cry, fat tears falling down as his lips release bawls and sobs. He’s never cried like this before, not since he was a small child. Not even the first night he spent alone without Johnny. He’s always stayed silent and cried on the inside. Let his heart do it instead.

Kyle grabs him into a hug, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other holding his head into his neck. It’s awkward, since Simon is so much taller, but they make it work. Eventually Simon wraps his arms around Kyle’s waist and holds him as close as he can, almost lifting him up off the ground.

Kyle holds him while he cries, whispering that it’s okay and that everything is fine. That he’s not angry anymore, he just wants to talk. That whatever it is, he won’t hate him for it.

“I’m sorry, Kyle,” Simon chokes out, “I shouldn’t have ignored you. I- I just- I didn’t know what to do.”

Kyle soothingly rubs the top of his back, over his muscled shoulder blade. “It’s alright. I forgive you.”

Simon pulls away a little bit and looks Kyle in his eyes. They’re beautiful, but not in the same way that Johnny’s were. Kyle’s are soft, calm, like a gentle breeze in a forest that carries the scent of the wood and the leaves. Johnny’s were bright, loud, like a raging, unforgiving ocean. Strong.

“I don’t know how to say this- but- i-“ Simon stammers. How can he even go about admitting this? With Johnny it was easy. All it took was looking at each other a certain way one night when they were alone doing some late target practice and they were on top of each other, their mouths connecting and hands searching for whatever skin they could find. All the emotions came later, when they were more comfortable with whatever they were and what they had. How do you start with the feelings first and the passion second?

“It’s okay, Simon,” Kyle whispers, “Take your time.”

“I- I can’t say it. I can’t betray Johnny like that.”

Confusion flashes across Kyle’s face, before it dawns on him.

“Oh.” He says. Oh.

Kyle looks absolutely struck, like he doesn’t know how to process what Simon just told him.

Simon pinches the bridge of his nose and grimaces. He’s such an idiot. He shouldn’t have fucking done this. God- he’s so stupid-

He turns to walk away, muttering apologies when Kyle grips his arm again and tugs him back again. Instantly their lips are connected, locked together in a kiss that makes Simon completely melt inside.

It lasts for only a few seconds before they break apart, panting and looking wildly into each others eyes.

“What would he think?” Simon whispers, “I can’t do this to him.”

Kyle nods, a few stray tears falling from his eyes. “I know. I don’t know what to say to help fix it.”

“I love him,” Simon says, “I think I always will. It’s not- it’s not fair to you or him. I- I don’t know if I can love you both. I don’t want to lose him.”

“I understand,” Kyle says. He runs his hand up and down Simon’s arm, the one covered in tattoos of flames and skulls. “I wouldn’t know what to do either. I’ve never- I haven’t experienced something like that before.”

“I’m sorry, Kyle.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“You sure?”

“I am. We can just be friends. I want that.”

“Do you- feel the same?”

“As you do?”

Simon nods.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad.”

They stare at each other for a few more minutes. Simon hugs Kyle and kisses him on the forehead before he mutters a good night and stalks off to his room, pretending he doesn’t hear the soft cries coming from behind him.

Simon lays in bed, staring at the ceiling as tears keep rolling from his eyes. At least Kyle knows now.

He turns to the side, looking at the empty space where Johnny always slept. He still wishes he was there, would do anything to hold him one more time, but now he also wishes Kyle were there. Wishes he could hold Kyle to sleep and wake up next to him in the morning. How could he want both? It doesn’t make any sense.

He drifts off to sleep, his body and mind exhausted from all the crying. Once he falls under, the strangest feeling over takes him.

Someone is holding him from behind, wrapping their arms around his waist and nuzzling their face into his upper back, the same way Johnny always did.

“Si?” He hears someone say, in a voice that sounds oddly like his Johnny.

Excitement floods his bones. He goes to turn around, but Simon finds he can’t move. “Johnny?” He croaks out.

“‘M right here, love.”

Simon can’t cry in his dream, but if this were real, he’d be a puddle on the floor.

“Don’t cry, angel. I hate seeing you cry.”

“I’m so sorry,” Simon says, his voice breaking so badly he sounds almost inaudible. It feels like a weight is crushing his chest and caving in his ribs, smashing his heart into pieces.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything baby. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I- I promise I don’t love him. I only love you.”

“You know that’s not true. You do love him.”

“Not as much as I loved you.”

“You do. Just in a different way. I know you do. You always forget you can’t hide things from me, Si.”

Simon shakes his head. “I- I can’t do that to you. I won’t. I’m only yours, Johnny, I promise.”

“Maybe you used to be only mine, but you’re not anymore. You’re Kyle’s now too. I’m gone, Simon. I can’t be there anymore.”

“I really wish you weren’t.”

“I know.” Johnny presses a kiss to his back. “But that’s the way things are. I wish I could fix it, but I can’t. I want you to be happy, and you’ll be happy with him. He’ll take care of you now that I can’t.”

Simon wishes he could move so he could grip Johnny’s arm, feel his hands in his one more time.

“Go love him, Si. Go have fun. Go make memories. Go do all the things you want with him and do everything we couldn’t do together. I’ll be waiting right here for you when it’s all over, and I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

Simon chokes. “I want you there. I don’t want to do it without you.”

“I’ll be there love, I promise. I’ll be right there.” Johnny kisses Simon’s back one more time.

“You promise?”

“Aye, I do. And when your time is up and you come back to me, I’ll be there to hug you and hold you and kiss you again. I don’t mind sharing with Kyle.”

“You sure?”

“I am. Just don’t forget about me, baby.”

“I won’t. Fuck- I won’t, Johnny. I won’t ever forget.”

Simon feels the presence shift, and suddenly Johnny is in front of him, gripping his face and kissing him one last time.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Johnny.”

“Go have fun with him, for me.”

Simon wakes up gently to the sun caressing his skin that peeks out from under the blanket. For the first time in months he doesn’t wake full of aching and grief. He’s… calm. He’s not entirely happy, but the pain is manageable today. He’s better than he has been in a while.

He doesn’t know if that truly was Johnny speaking to him or a strange dream his mind conjured up to help him feel better, but he’s going to choose to believe it was whatever presence he’s been feeling that seems like Johnny.

If Johnny wants him to be happy, he can be happy. He can be with Kyle. He’s… god, he’s excited for it. He can’t wait to fall more in love with him.

He rushes out his room, not bothering to throw any other clothes on other than what he slept in, and finds Kyle making his morning tea in the kitchen.

Kyle notices him and quickly glances away in fear. “Morning,” he mumbles.

Simon grabs Kyle’s shoulders and kisses him with everything he has.

Kyle looks at him in shock. “I- Simon?“

“I’m sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“What?”

“I love you. I love you so much. God it- it fucking hurts how much I love you. I- I’m going to have to try and figure out how to love you both, but I want to try. It’ll hurt but I want to try because I want you, and- and I want to fight for you.”

Kyle looks at him with pure shock. Then a big grin spreads across his face. He throws his arms around Simon’s neck and hugs him as tight as he can. Simon’s arms find their home around Kyle’s waist, tugging him close.

It’s going to hurt. When Simon does things he never got to do with Johnny, it’ll hurt. When he realizes he’s been with Kyle longer than he’ll have ever been with Johnny, it’ll hurt. When he retires with Kyle and lives out the rest of his life with him, something he wanted with Johnny but now can never have, it’ll hurt. But his pain is just his love for him persevering. And Johnny said that he’ll be right there with him, so he won’t feel like he’s truly leaving him behind.

He kisses Kyle again, and for the first time in a while, his pain is all gone. There’s only joy, and the familiar presence of a soft kiss pressed into his back.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Baby-Sitting Duty

Part of my Birthday Bash!

Request: “You look your cutest like this” and Roy.

Roy Kent x Reader

0.6k words

Warnings: Language, fluff, Phoebe in a little food coma

This Saturday night was supposed to be a date night. That is, until Roy’s sister called, begging her brother to take Phoebe for the night. Not that much begging was necessary; he’d never say no to time with his niece. His apologies and promise to make it up to you were also wholly unnecessary. You adored Phoebe, and honestly, you relished every opportunity to see Roy with his precious little niece.

And so there the three of you were, spending Saturday night with a table full of unhealthy snacks, bowls of ice cream on the kitchen counter, and the latest Disney movie on the television. Phoebe was long gone, having eaten far too much candy, despite your hisses to Roy to tell her to slow down. Your boyfriend had playfully rolled his eyes at your suggestion, mumbling something along the lines of, “She’ll be fine. If not, she’ll learn her limits.” You rolled your eyes back and told him that this was a child with sweets, not a twenty-year-old with alcohol.

Sure enough, that little girl had gorged herself into a candy coma, barely making it to the second musical number of the cartoon that still lit up the big screen. She was nestled between the two of you, under Roy’s arm, eyes closed and soft snores coming from her sugar-coated mouth. You had tugged a blanket over her, earning a soft look from Roy.

He loved seeing you with Pheebs. You took on the role of ‘aunt’ in stride, and you did it well. You knew all of her likes and dislikes, kept up with the latest classroom drama, took her side when she demanded Roy be the princess in Princess and the Dragon, and attended every single one of her football games. It warmed his often too-cold heart and always had him wondering about the right time to pull his grandmother’s wedding ring out of his nightstand.

Someday, he thought, flashing you a small smile over the top of Phoebe’s head. Someday.

You returned his smile with a shy grin of your own, shaking your head as you watched his fingers absently play with his niece’s blonde hair.

“What?” he whispered, checking to make sure he wasn’t too loud for Phoebe.

You shrugged, turning your body to face him properly. “I just like seeing you like this,” you answered quietly. “Doting on Phoebe, cuddling with her. You look your cutest like this.”

Roy put on his best scowl, hardening his face playfully. “’m not fucking cute,” he growled.

“Oh yes you are,” you teased as you threw a stray piece of popcorn at his nose. “Roy Kent is the cutest man in the world,” you declared. “And I love him for that.”

His face softened, your words making it hard to keep up his charade. “And I love you for not fucking telling anyone how cute I am,” he conceded. He glanced down at his little niece. “Her neck’s gonna get all stiff if I leave her like this,” he mumbled. “I’m gonna go tuck her in.”

You shook your head and stood. “I’ve got her,” you assured him. With that, you bent down and scooped the girl into your arms, offering loving shushes as she stirred. “Be right back.” As you walked down the hall to the guest room that was really Phoebe’s room, he could hear you murmuring to her, “I know, darling. I’ll bring you something for your tummy in a moment, alright?”

Again, Roy felt his heart soften. You took such good care of Phoebe. Of him. Of the team whenever you were with them. You were loving and kind and gentle with everyone. He loved that about you. Fuck, he loved everything about you.

He frowned for a brief moment before rising to his feet and tiptoeing to his bedroom.

He just needed to grab one thing from his nightstand before you came back into the living room.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part five) 🌹

Part Four🌹

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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"I do hope you know that if we are even a minute late, I will be serving detention for the rest of the year." 

The slightly anxious tone of Coryo's voice broke you out of your memorized state. You both were in a rush out of his penthouse and you weren't sure how long it would take to get to the academy, but against your best intentions, you had to stop for the flowers.

Something about their white petals and fresh arouma just sucked you in.

With a reluctant sigh, you forced your legs to move.

"But you are the perfect student. You've never been late and every member of the staff loves you."

It was true. There didn't seem to be a single person in the Capital who wasn't charmed with Coriolanus Snow.

But he just shook his head, shifting his eyes forward and quickly pressing the button to allow for pedestrians cross the intersection.

"Everyone but Dean Highbottom."

Oh yes.

He was unfortunately right.

That was indeed the one person who seemed to despise Coryo.

And for seemingly no reason. He always seemed to be able to chide or insult the boy whenever given the chance.

When the signal lit up, the boy in question took your hand to follow him across the street.

"You know, I remember once Highbottom saw us talking after I gave you back your book for Satryia's class. After we parted ways, he pulled me aside and told me to stay away from you. Something about how it didn't end well the first time. Do you have any idea what he was talking about?" 

Still holding your hand, even being far from the dangers of the intersection, the boy turns his head to you. His eyes showed just as much confusion as yours did but with a hint of anger.

Dean Highbottom didn't have to like him but who is he to warn you to stay away from him? And what does he mean the first time? 

The conversation seemed to trail off there but neither of you minded. You didn't come to this part of the Capital very often so you were lost in fascination and wonder. The city was being rebuilt all around you and you couldn't help but feel giddy.

Coriolanus was lost in watching your reactions. He was feeling a sense of pride to know that he was the one who opened this side of the Capital for you. Not to mention the reason you got some proper sleep. 

He was thinking back on your conversation when he nudged your nearby shoulder with his. You looked back to see the tall boy with a little smirk on his lips. You couldn't help but laugh and question the movement. 

"Nothing, it's just nice to know you remembered the book." 

The comment made a pink tint appear on your cheeks, now very visible in the morning light.

"Of course I remember! I'm sure Satryia would have had my head! You were my knight in shining armor."

Then it was your turn to nudge him back. His pride swelled even more at the memory. To know that he was able to give you something that you not only wanted but needed. Even if it was just a lousy textbook.

It made him feel accomplished. 

Within a few strides, the magnificent structure of the Academy came into view and it somehow even looked more beautiful than usual to you.

Everything did after last night.

"Oh! I forgot to give you this!"

He let go of your still clasped hands and grabbed something from his bag. You were surprised by Coryo's confession but even more suprized by the radiant flower in his hand. You couldn't help but gasp at the gesture. You looked up at him with your beautiful eyes, shining up at him with wonder and gratitude. He smiled down at you, heart swelling.

"You seemed so mesmerized so I thought you would like one of your own." 

You took the flower gently and thanked him with the most beautiful smile he has ever received.

He was already scheming of ways to see it more often. 

"Could you put in my hair?"

Then you were blessed with the most beautiful smile you've seen. He happily agreed and put it in the back of your hair, in the hair tie of your half up, half down style.

Something you've never worn before to the academy but something Coryo reassured you looked good.

Once assured the flower wouldn't fall, the tall boy stepped out from behind you with a satisfied smile.

"You know one of these days I'll show you Grandma'am's rose garden. Maybe even get you a bouquet."

He knew the day when he would be able to bring you full bouquets of her precious roses is far away. But maybe after he won the Plinth Prize, he would get his Grandma'am chocolate, Tigris a new dress, and packets of rose seeds.

Enough so everyday he could give you a fresh flower that you would cherish.

His wishful thinking nearly made him miss your response.

"I think I would fall right then and there if you did Coryo."

You looked at him as you confessed but quickly looker away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. Heat that only grew more intense as Coriolanus's stare did the same.

He didn't know if you meant you would fall is in pass out or fall as in... well fall. for him.

oh as if he needed anymore motivation to win the coveted Plinth Prize. 

Since you never come from this direction, you can't see the usual spot Sejanus would be sitting at when waited for you. Was he getting worried? Your eyes scan the area but couldn't seem to find the brunette anywhere.

But, for better or worse, you found your quite eccentric group of friends.

"Coryo! Y/N!" Clemensia's voice carried through the morning air as you both marched up the stairs.

You both greeted her as well as Arachne, Festus, and Felix upon your arrival. They all seemed happy to see you two (especially you as you are often strolling with Sejanus). But Arachne seemed to be looking you both up and down with a mischievous smirk playing on her colored lips. Nothing new but unnerving nevertheless. 

"Y/N, don't you live on the west side of the city? You always come and leave in that direction."

She looked as if she had caught a lamb for the slaughter. You actually did really like her but the girl has so many problems.

Coriolanus had his mask plastered on again but inside he was beginning to panic. He probably could've made a lie on the spot, a skill he has mastered over the years, but he was worried about your reaction. 

You were a genuine person and he feared that his lie would be completely exposed on your face. But it seemed he was wrong. Instead of freezing up you laughed at Arachne's comment.

"It's beautiful weather this morning and felt in the mood to take a walk around the city. I just happened to meet up with Coryo at the entrance to campus." 

To say the mentioned boy was surprised and relieved would have been an understatement. Not only did you cover up the actual events, you made sure not to let it slip that he walks to the Academy. The illusion that he has a driver like the rest of your peers was still held. Festus then seemed to perk up. 

"I still don't understand why in the world you would decide to walk somewhere. We have drivers for a reason."

The others nodded in agreement and you couldn't but help sigh. You have known your friends since as long as you could remember. You have seen them grow up (or the lack there of).

They are still the small scared children who had to burn their picture books for warmth in the Dark Days. They may have physically aged, but you know they never really grew up. Your peers simply hid their fears and insecurities behind their wealth and luxury.

Anything outside of the opulence that surrounded them brought fear and as a result, a great distaste.

That's why Sejanus was so disliked. He was too much of an irregularity. Too other. 

As he drifted to your mind, your eyes drifted to the other side of the stairs, shifting your neck to try to get a better view. 

"Don't worry, your little side kick is coming up."

Felix let you know with a nod of his head over your shoulder, making you turn around and spotting Sejanus looking confused at you. You smiled in invitation and he began taking a cautious walk up the vast stairs. 

Arachne couldn't help but scoff.

"Wonder what little district boy would do without his precious y/n to hold his hand wherever he goes."

Your mouth opened to shoot back a response when Sejanus gave one of his own. 

"Maybe you will see where it would hit if it wasn't being held."

He even gave a mocking smile to go with it. 

And this is why your two friend groups are separate. 

Before any teeth could be knocked out or venom spit, you were quick to grab his arm and pull him away. You look over your shoulder with a rushed and apologetic farewell to the group.

But your eyes met those ever shining blue orbs and gave a private smile. A smile he couldn't help but return.

"What are you smiling at Snow?"

Festus croked. He had frankly forgotten his friends around him, way too lost on your retreating form. 

"Well that was entertaining if I must say." He covered up his slip.

The look on Arachne's face begged to differ.

But reassurance came in Clemensia's laugh, followed by Felix.

"I would actually like to see what would happen with you and Plinth in a room with no y/n to mediate Crane." Felix seemed quite entertained with the thought. 

The girl just rolled her eyes and began her march into the building, clear irritation radiating off of her.

The rest of the group followed suit and walked into the posh institution.

"Feel bad for whoever unfortunately walks infront of her path" Festus quips, much to the enjoyment and humor of his friends.

The same feeling could not be said for Sejanus.

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"So how worried should I be?" Sejanus's warm brown eyes bore into yours. You crooked your head to its side in confusion.

"Care to explain Sej?" 

"I think I'm the one who needs an explanation y/n. You never came to our spot and you were instead with them."

He spit out the word as if it was acid.

"Not to mention the fact that we got a call from your father thanking us for letting you stay with us last night. Would you care to enlighten me how I either missed your presence the entire night, morning, and ride here or where you actually were."

His tone was harsh but you knew it came from a place of worry. He knew of your sleepless habits and to be informed that you were supposed to be with him but weren't must have been horrifying. 

You weren't sure if you should tell him the whole truth about staying with Coriolanus. So you tell him the same thing you told Rhayes, your driver, last night.

"I was with a friend. I'm sorry I worried you Sejanus. I had no idea he called you and made you worry." 

He looked at you with a puzzled and slight irritated expression.

"What friend y/n? And if you couldn't stay at your house, you know our door is always open."

You weren't exactly sure why he was so upset at the situation but you felt he deserved some semblance of an answer. 

"You guys do enough for me as it is. No- stop don't even try to argue with me on this. Can - can we just drop this?" You sighed, clearly not wanting to continue on this topic.

Sejanus looked the exact opposite, wanting to flesh out every detail. But he noticed your discomfort and let the conversation end there. 

You both had been walking around the halls, him not really realizing the path you were taking untill you came to a stop and began looking through your bag.

The kind boy, for what seemed the first time that morning, took in your appearance. 

"You look well rested. Back to life." He says it astonished. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

"I know! Weird seeing me look like an actual person instead of zombie." You were expecting a witty remark back but you were met with another amazed observation. 

"You kept your hair down. And look it has a flower!"

You laughed at his behavior and found your mass pile of somehow pristine papers. You flipped through the pages with apprehension at your work.

"And you finished your paper! What happened to you last night?!"

He just seemed to keep on getting more and more lost. Your smile grew in amusement of his reaction and you both walked into class. Sejanus made his way up to your elevated section of desks while you made your way to your Professor.

Professor Rhaen was a tall and lengthy man who seems more aged than any person of his middle age should be. His pale skin seemed sickly and was scattered with small marks and freckles.

He was bent over his desk, deep into a thick book. You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped up to your slightly timid figure.

"Good morning Professor. I understand that you gave us an extended amount of time for our paper to ensure we properly research. But I fear I got too carried away and seemed to have finished a bit early."

You held up your own thick stack of papers with a humble smile. The man didn't take your papers right away, leaving your hand hanging while he was analyzing.

After a few painfully akward moments, he finally took the stack from your hands. You were going to make your way to seat before he motioned for you to wait.

He was scanning through as you just stood there, in the front of the room and felt quite small. You looked up towards the direction of your desk and saw Sejanus give you a smile and a thumbs up in encouragement.

You smiled back, with a little more reassurance and turned to your professor who seemed to be very focused. The sounds of your classmates coming in was heard as their gazes were felt.

Forever seemed to pass before Professor Rhaen gave you the go ahead to sit down. You gave a giddy sigh of relief before you were stopped by his voice.

"Y/n!" You turned slowly and slightly reluctantly. "

From what I've seen so far, I think I will be nothing less than impressed."

What.

Professor Rhaen does not give compliments. You felt over the moon but gave a polite nod and rushed to your desk.

You didn't realize that Coriolanus and the others had made it to class until you reached the area of your desk. You had to squeeze past the blonde boy and as soon as you sat down, you had to turn behind you.

"Wait you already finished your paper?"

Clemmies pretty face was contorted in baffelment. You just smiled and shrugged. The scoffs of impresment (and intimidation) of Felix, Festus, and Arachne were quite audible even as you turned around.

Sejanus took in your interaction and noticed how neither Clemensia nor Arachne knew of your progress. Something they clearly would have if you stayed at their penthouses last night.

But what was even more puzzling was your shared look with Coriolanus who seemed to have a bit of a smug and proud smile on his face.

Like he knew. 

Any questions were caught off by the scratchy voice of the professor. His lecture was not necessarily interesting, but today for the first time in a long time, you were able to be fully focused.

You followed every word and participated whenever you could. You were so engaged with the lesson that you barely realized the pen that landed by your shoes.

Grabbing it in a swift motion, you looked up to see Coriolanus with a smug smirk.

Oh that little-

"See what happens when you get a proper sleep." He teased you, slightly crouched, mirroring your position. 

You gave a soft scoff at his comment which only made his expression grow.

"A night of good rest, a compliment from Rhaen, and an intimated Arachne? You're on fire y/n." He whispered. 

"Trying to suck up to the new favorite student Snow?" You teased back.

The close proximity of your position allowing for the heat of your breath to be felt on the boys cheeks.

That's the reason for the red on it right? 

His devious smirk only expanded, showing a few of his perfect and pearly white teeth. He opened his mouth to fire back his own witty response before he was cut off by a clearly displeased Dean Casca Highbottom. 

"Miss Vaun and Mr. Snow."

It seemed that even having the two of your names in the same sentence drained him off all his energy.

"Why am I not surprised. Well whatever it is that you two were discussing, I hope it was more important than your professor's lecture." 

The embarrassment of the public scolding and the silence of the room was suffocating.

And he knew it.

He seemed to relish in your discomfort and Coriolanus's annoyance. 

His eyes seemed to be coated with a fog as he was lost to his mind and whatever he was thinking. The realization of reality and his intention of the interruption seemed to bring him back to reality. 

"Please pack up your things Miss y/n. It is urgent."

Your reaction to his words was panic.

Absolute panic.

Emotion you had to swallow, even as your breathing accelerated. You were shaking as you basically threw your material in your bag, with no care of the impact.

Dean Highbottom had already left the room and was waiting in the hallway by the time you met up with him. You felt nauseous and walked on heavy feet.

Coriolanus could see the unsteady steps you took and wanted nothing more than steady you.

But he could do nothing.

And that's the part he hated most.

He sighed and tried to focus back on the lecture and the notes he was supposed to take. Then he realized you must have taken his pen by accident. 

And he was right but you weren't really conscious as you twirled that very same pen in you hands in apprehension.

Something happened to her.

That happened to her.

You both reached the main office and you hoped that all your fears would be resolved. But you looked up to see your father in a state of varying levels of dishevelment. He looked pale, starved, and hollow.

But worst of all were the tears in his eyes and clear stains on his cheek. No.

No. 

You felt the world shrink around you as he opened up his palm to reveal a beautiful golden necklace. A necklace that held two rings.

The same necklace that your mother wore without fail.

The one she swore she would never take off till death did her part.

Till death do you part.

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A/N: another part down! I hope you all liked it! I was scared of how it was gonna turn out at first but kinda liked it. I hope you guys saw the desk scene as I imagined it (both you and coryo kinda crouched and close as you whispered). I imagined it as if it was a movie and the shot would be showing your side profiles as you talked in those fancy curved desk things in the movie. Also if things don't make sense, I'm sorry it's 1 am and I have been working on it for hours and I'm sleepy lol! Much love as always!

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹