#i wonder what he thought when she was in the arena again. oh there's my mentor. the person who saved me (assuming she does)
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Over Ice (Part 2)
Hockey!Rhysand x Reader
Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 3122
(Part 1)
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“When you said you got me a t-shirt,” you sigh, once again adjusting the hem of the jersey Mor provided you. Notshirt; jersey. The bottom of the Velaris Bats uniform has been trimmed—startlingly low. Or is it cut too high; you wonder with a swallowed curse. The damned thing nearly shows off your entire midriff. “I thought you meant, like, a normal fucking shirt and not whatever this is.”
Mor scoffs, shoveling a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she weaves her way through the throng of people towards your seats. Her long strides in her black heels hard to keep up with. “That is a Mor Original, and I only made it cuter,” she huffs indigently, like your discomfort is the sole inspiration behind her “designs.”
This isn’t the first time you’ve allowed Mor to pick out your outfit, but it’s definitely going to be your last, you try to remind yourself. The handful of times you’ve thought this exact thing before is laughable, and you’ve never once remembered. She’ll continue to cut the hems of shirts and alter skirts into even shorter skirts until the end of time, probably.
She’s been the crafty type since you first met her. Anything that she could add personality to was subject for a good old shot of “Mor’s Touch:” clothing, home décor, even the cocktails she mixes—which often go from something as simple as a Dirty Shirley and turning it into a cherry-passionfruit with a hint of lime drink, mixed with tonic instead of Sprite and garnished with a frilly umbrella stuck through three Maraschino cherries because “one is simply not enough.”
You agree, and you’d never admit to your eccentric roommate that it’s the most delicious drink you’ve ever had. Goes down like lemonade and has you going from a corner-stander to someone in the center of the dancefloor in two drinks flat.
You wish you had one right about now to get you through the night.
Your mind wanders to Gwyn back at the dorms, wondering what she’s going to be getting up to tonight. You don’t need to wonder, you know how your red-headed roommate prefers to spend her nights, curled up on the couch beneath a thick blanket, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels within reach, and her laptop in her lap, creating fantasy worlds for her characters to live in some day.
A surge of pride for your roommate fills your energy tank. Sometimes people truly do find exactly what they were made for in life, and Gwyn was born to write. You’ve only read a few snippets she’s been willing to share, but you can’t fathom forming sentences the way she does, creating worlds and characters from her mind alone, seeing a vision in your mind so clear that it would be a crime not to share it with the world.
You’re not sure you’ve ever loved something that much, but Sports Medicine is pretty damn close. Psychology, is not.
You shiver as the cold of the arena hits the sliver of skin that’s exposed itself once again while you were taking a sip of your drink. Goosebumps pebble in response, coursing over the entirety of your body within seconds, causing you to shiver.
You should’ve fought Mor harder about bringing your jacket, but at least she left you sleeves, her shirt has been cut into a tank that hardly reaches the bottom of her ribs, and there’s a deep cut down the collar, creating a perfect ‘V’ that shows off her incredible tits.
You’d know, you’ve seen them before.
“Oh. My. Gosh. You two look so good,” a girl gushes, steps into you and Mor’s path, halting you from your first steps down the stairs to your seats. She’s chipper, a camera poised in her hands, the thick strap around her neck. He shiny, chestnut hair is braided into two tails, draped across her shoulders.
Behind her thin-framed glasses, her bright blue eyes sparkle with excitement as she peruses you and your roommate up and down, admiring your outfits.
“I told you,” Mor murmurs, elbowing you in the side before raising her voice to answer. “Thank you so much! I spent all day on these, and this one doesn’t appreciate my hard work at all. It’s a refreshing change of pace to hear a compliment instead of ‘Mor, don’t you think this is a little too much?’” You scrunch your nose at Mor’s terrible impression of you. Too nasally, too annoying.
The photographer laughs like it’s her full-time job, and you scowl.
Way to throw me right under that speeding bus, Mor.
“Do you mind if I take your picture for the team’s social media account? You two would make a great first slide in a carousel for school spirit,” she gets this faraway look in her eyes as if she’s picturing it now. “The interaction you’d get us,” she sighs dreamily. “I might even get promoted.”
You groan internally when Mor perks up even further. “I think I love you,” she blurts, pupils heart-shaped. “Do you want to sit with us? We have an extra ticket.” She’s bought one for Gwyn, hoping she would join in on this sporty girl’s night, but your other roommate had been adamant about her dislike of the sport, and had gotten a pass while you were dressed up like a doll and dragged out of the dorm.
The girl’s laugh is like a windchime, soothing and melodic. “I wish I could, but duty calls,” she waves her camera around in answer. “Maybe I’ll catch you at one of the after parties, though. Here, you can give me your Instagram and I’ll DM you after tagging you in the photos.”
She and Mor exchange socials and names. Feyre. It’s unique and suits her well.
After adding your own Instagram on her phone, you hand the phone back, posing with Mor. Of course, knowing your roommate as you do, it’s not just one picture that Feyre takes. They’re both beaming, and one picture turns into ten. Ten poses, nine sips of your drink because you don’t know what the hell else to do. Eight frantic smiles, seven internal sighs, and six side-eyes from passerby, trying to find their seats. Five giggles from friends, four embarrassed blushes, three warnings that you are so done with this, two people ignoring you, and one announcement overhead signaling the start of the game in a few minutes.
“So nice to meet you, Feyre,” Mor calls as you begin guiding her away. You have no clue where you’re going, but any movement closer to any empty seat is better than the photoshoot you just had in the middle of the walkway. With a parting smile at the photographer, Mor continues, like she’s all for standing there all night instead of supporting her cousin on the ice. “Message me!”
“Clingy, much?” You grunt at the poke to the arm that gets you.
“Oh, come on! It’s not like I’m going to replace you,” she scoffs with a brush of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. You swear, the guys sitting in the front row swoon. “Besides, you can never have too many friends. It’s not possible.”
You’re pretty sure it is possible to have too many friends, but you keep that thought to yourself. You suppose you have one more spot in your life for a friend, but if the pictures turn out terrible and are blasted on the Bat’s Instagram, that spot might disappear. You’re already feeling mortified enough from the public display of taking photos.
“Yeah, yeah,” is what you decide to go with. “Now, where are our seats?”
“I don’t like the look of that,” you mutter wearily, squinting to see what’s happening on the ice. You might not know anything about hockey, but you know malicious intent when you see it. It’s in the way that the Penguin’s player leans closer to the Bat’s center, nudging his shoulder as he speaks, his slimy grin growing with each jab.
The game’s been fun so far, much to your surprise. The crowd surrounding you is all for the team, chanting songs that you need to learn immediately because they’re so much fun. The music that blasts around the stadium during every break is on-point, not too old of songs and not too overplayed like at the one football game you’d been dragged to last year (also by Mor, but not because of a family member on the team, because of an entirely different member.)
“Is that my cousin?” She asks, brown eyes sharp as she examines the players. Their fronts are to you, no seeing the names painted across the back of their jerseys. You refrain from mentioning how Mor should at least know her own cousin’s number—since their written on the sleeves—but you keep that thought to yourself when her red painted nails tighten around the box of popcorn, crushing the flimsy cardboard. The strain of the muscle in her jaw matches the boy on the ice’s, you notice with a fleeing glance at your roommate.
Tension coils your gut. You find your fingers wrapping around the edge of the seat you’re perched in, gripping the bleachers so tightly that you swear you feel the cool metal warming and warping.
You’re not the only two who have noticed the shift in the moods of the players on the ice, parts of the crowd are beginning to rise from their seats, cheering growing from a low rumble to a thunder of screams, caws, and jeering.
The puck is barely a millimeter from the referee’s hand before sticks are thrown to the ice, gloves following as the two players slowly begin to circle each other. It looks like something out of an animal documentary: two predators about to snap at each other’s throats in a fight for the territory.
The anticipation of them going blow for blow lights a fire deep within your belly, your core perking up for attention.
You shouldn’t be thinking like this, shouldn’t get getting turned on by the idea of two boys about to knock each other’s teeth out. Should be thinking about your best friend’s cousin like this at all.
Shooting a guilty glance at your roommate, you breathe a soft sigh of relief that’s swallowed by the shouts of the crowd when you see that Mor hasn’t picked up on your sudden shift in mood—both mentally and physically.
All the players on the ice slide back to make room for the brawl that’s about to break out and a sick feeling bubbles in your stomach, almost overpowering the arousal as you wonder why no one is attempting to stop them.
There isn’t time to voice your concern, isn’t time to do anything except bolt to your feet with a gasp so harsh it sears your lungs when the Penguin’s player is the first to swing. Your heart is lodged in your throat, your breathing holding in your throat as you watch in anticipation. He lashes out with a curled fist so fast that by the time you blink, it’s over.
His hit doesn’t land.
There’s no time to feel the relief trying to rush through your veins because the Bat’s center is retaliating, throwing himself forward after swiftly dodging the attack. He grabs the other boy by the collar of his ice blue uniform and hauls him into his closed fist.
His opponents helmet goes flying off with the snap of his head backwards. He stumbles, but manages to stay upright, snagging a handful of the Bat’s jersey to try and steady himself.
You look to the benches flanking the ice, wondering why no one is joining the fray. It’s now that you realize it’s not that they don’t want to help their teammate who is quickly ducking away from another fist, it’s because they can’t.
There’s a boy standing nonchalantly, hazel eyes pinned on the scene before him. He looks eager almost, leaning so casually against his stick, chin propped on the edge of it like he’s watching the newest action movie from the best spot in the house.
Even the goalie seems to be unconcerned, taking the few moments he has to take a swig of water and adjust his helmet, squatting low and shooting side to side in his box, as if trying to keep limber for when the game resumes.
One of the refs is attempting to hold back a burly boy who seems much too large to be skating at all. His helmet has also been shucked off, revealing long, shoulder length wet hair that clings to his face and neck like a bee on honey. His gloves are abandoned on the ice too, and his stick has skidded to a stop upon hitting the sideboards nearby. You can’t make out the words he’s shouting, but with the feral grin you make out, you know they’re fighting words. With each bark he seems to be inching closer, like the full-grown man in the stripes trying to hold him back is nothing more than a soft breeze, and his is a twister barreling right through.
When he shakes his head, you catch sight of a bloodthirsty grin that has a shiver sliding up your spine. He’s enjoying this?
“Mor,” your worry tries to escape, only for the words to stick in your throat as more noises join the fight, loud as gunshots. Both the Bat’s and the Penguin’s players are rapping their hockey sticks against the boards separating their benches from the ice, war cries falling from their lips.
They’re all enjoying this.
“That is my cousin,” Mor screeches, her perfectly plucked brows pulled tight as she tries finally makes out the number on the back of the jersey that’s gripped so tightly in the offending players grip that you’re pretty sure the stitches are popping with the force. “Kick his fucking ass, Rhys!”
Casting a frantic look to your roommate, you realize that not even she seems to be fazed by the fact that her cousin is in the middle of a fight that could very seriously end badly, especially with the knives on the bottoms of their feet.
But, if everyone’s rooting for their player to win this battle, you can too.
As gruesome as the scene before you is, you wish you had a better seat, somewhere with a better viewpoint than all the way on the other side of the ice. You can’t to be able to hear the threats they’re growling at each other, your attention completely enraptured now that you’ve shoved your worry to the wayside.
With his newfound hold, the Penguin’s player strikes again, and this time, his hit slams across Rhys’ jaw. His head snaps to the side with the nasty hook and his helmet slips to the ice, the sound eaten up by the goading of the crowd.
They swing around, unsteady on their skates as each of the boys tries to topple the other over. You catch a glance at his face. It’s hard to see, and his shaggy black hair is splayed across his face like a spiderweb, keeping you from making out his features. You catch the blood dribbling down his chin, the anger etched in the clench of his jaw as he grits his teeth, managing to twist himself into a position where he has the upper hand on the Penguin’s player: a headlock.
Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Rhys pound his fist into the other boy’s face once, twice, three times before his opponent’s feet fall out from under him. Rhys releases his hold, allowing the boy to slip lamely to the ice.
“Atta boy, Rhysie,” Mor shouts, once again shoveling popcorn into her mouth with a grin so bright it could melt the ice in the rink before you. She turns to you, golden brown of her eyes glowing with excitement. “Our parents would be so proud.”
She turns back to the scene before you can voice your confusion on that statement, tucking away the information that if you win a fight in hockey, it’s a great accomplishment.
You watch Rhys as he’s escorted by referees who guide him towards the penalty box. He’s examining his knuckles, not caring that he’s abandoning his equipment as he goes, grimacing as the adrenaline begins to fade. He pokes at them, frowning at whatever he feels.
You pray they’re not broken.
The rest of the players seem to be getting back to the game, like one of their teammates isn’t being casted away on an island across the ice. Okay, so it’s just another bench and he’s not that far from them, but you’re shocked that this is the end of the fight, both players carted into separate timeout boxes away from their teams.
Rhys plops down on the bench, pulling a water bottle from a hidden holder, washing the blood from his knuckles before examining them for a second time. You watch him flex his fingers, twist his wrist this way and that. You can’t seem to keep your eyes off him, even with the game picking back up and Mor shouting cheers when the Bat’s manage to steal the puck right from the drop, carting it down the ice with a speed that rivals a racecar.
He must be satisfied with his examination because Rhys is throwing his head back, and it’s almost as if he’s squirting the water from the bottle directly onto you with the way that the apex of your thigh’s wet at the sight of him. He sips the water, holding the bottle a few inches from his face, and you watch the water cascade down his chin and over his throat, bobbing with each swallow. It mixes with the blood from his split lip and slides into the collar of his gear.
You swallow harshly, suddenly parched.
When he’s had his fill of the drink, he moves the bottle further back, using the spray to wash his hair away from his face, and your breathing shallows. It’s as if the hand he’s using to squeeze the life out of the bottle is constricting around your throat, because suddenly, you recognize the sharp of that jaw, the curve of those eyebrows and the straight of his nose. All his angular features come together in the perfect picture of hotness, knocking the breath fully from your chest when he straightens his chin, looking out onto the ice to watch his teammates score the last goal of the second period.
He's the boy from this morning: the overachiever, the one who called you darling.
Mor’s cousin.
Rhysand Cunningham.
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Over Ice Taglist:
@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125
#rhys x reader#rhysand x reader#acotar#azsazz#acowar#acomaf#rhysand/reader#acotar au#rhysand hockey au#over ice
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hi!! first off, i just want to say that i really love your work. i’m so so glad i found your blog. i just reblogged this quinn blurb of yours (which i’m obsessed with btw)
i was wondering if you’d ever be up to expanding on any of the aspects of it. for example; quinn seeing a guy flirt with you in the stands while he’s playing.. when the game was over what do you think that looks like? would say something to his girl and/or show her more with actions than words? or when he sees how excited she is to see him when he’s ready to head home is he just going to let it go? <- y’know like her smile’s able to erase damn near any negative feelings he’s having. playing on when you said about his girl being able to turn him to mush 🥹
✶₊˚⊹ apologies for the length of this.. when i get excited about something i tend to ramble. also, feel free to ignore this or keep it for later if you’d want. no worries either way ‹𝟹
oh i would absolutely love to expand on that
i don’t think he would dwell on it too much, honestly. because he does trust you and he knows that when you come to his games you’re watching nothing but him, but i think he would be a lil smug about it and the fact you never give them attention like you do him.
his eyes would find you as soon as he walks out of the locker room, ready to take you home and order a post game dinner while watching whatever series the two of you get sucked into on netflix.
you’d be talking to conor, just chatting casually, always having been close with him since you started dating quinn.
too distracted to realize he’s walking towards you, he walks up and engulfs you in a hug from behind.
“Q!!” you’d squeal, laughing as conor takes that as his cue to leave, saying a short goodbye and offering a small wave.
turning around in his arms, you come face to face with your slightly damp and scruffy looking boyfriend, loving his post-shower appearance after every game.
“enjoy the game?” he asks, admiring the joy on your face that only he seems to bring out.
“duh! you scored twice, how could i not?”
quinn’s ego inflates three sizes, remembering what spurred the second goal.
“oh, speaking of, who was your new friend tonight? sure you don’t want me to just buy out the seats next to you every game?” he’d only half joke, not letting you know he has genuinely thought about it before.
you rolled your eyes at him, swatting his chest. “just some chad, brad, or whatever else people name their overly confident, dickish sons.”
your words cause alarm bells in quinn’s brain, his tone suddenly turning serious. “what do you mean by ‘dickish’? did he get handsy? say something to you? do i need to make a call to make sure he never steps foot in this arena again?”
“no! no, nothing like that. he was harmless, just thought he could impress the pretty girl next to him with all kinds of hockey talk,” you’re quick to explain, watching quinn’s jaw visibly relax. “most of which he had wrong, by the way,” you continue. “but then he asked if i was here alone, and i told him no, that my boyfriend was on the ice, but he didn’t believe me. especially not when i told him it was you, the captain of the team.”
it was quinn’s turn to roll his eyes. people never tend to believe you when you tell them he’s your boyfriend, considering you two have kept your relationship decently private. if anything, they shouldn’t believe you’re his girlfriend, still shocked at how he managed to snag someone so out of his league.
“then, after you scored he made some stupid comment about ‘aren’t you going to congratulate your boyfriend?’ as if i had a direct line to you on the ice or something,” you kept explaining to him, causing him to recall the sour look on your face when he was watching you from the bench.
he kept seeing the man turn to you and make comments, figuring he was trying to get you to engage with him. you ignored him, though, giving him side glances every few minutes with a look of annoyance.
“but, after you came over and did your ‘sweetheart’ celly, he finally shut up and left me alone,” you giggled, referencing the goal celebration quinn coined for you. he’ll skate over to the glass where you sit, pretending to lick all five of his fingers as if he’s cleaning ‘sugar’ off of them, then points to you and draws a heart in the air before skating away with a wink.
quinn smiles in triumph, happy that his plan worked.
after watching the scene you just explained play out, he knew he needed an excuse to show some big display of affection so your seat mate would get the hint. so, he turned the dial up to ten and was taking every shot he could.
he hopes the glare he gave the man as he skated away from you was partially to thank, too. even though the second he saw your excitement-filled cheering for him, the man beside of you was (mostly) forgotten.
“well, i hope he realizes you only go for guys who can score both on and off the ice,” he winks down at you, knowing his choice of words was corny, but they succeeded in coaxing out the sweet sound of your laughter that he wanted needed to hear.
he loves knowing that you only get this giggly and carefree with him; knowing that he’s the one that gets to take you home each night. the security he feels in your relationship is unlike anything he’s ever known, blown away at how fully and wholly you love him, always hearing you tell everyone who will listen to you when you think he’s not paying attention.
even if he does manage to get grumpy and annoyed when people flirt with you during games or when you’re out with the team, he knows you never even give them the time of day. every time he catches himself staring daggers at someone, all he finds when he looks at you is your pretty eyes already trained on him, making him forget about any ill feelings he has harbored in his chest, just like tonight.
“alright, captain jealousy, let’s get home so we can eat, i’m starving. i was thinking sushi and gilmore girls, what do you think?” you suggest, grabbing his hand and starting the familiar trek to the car garage.
quinn groans, hating how much you love the annoying mother daughter duo, mentally preparing himself for the hours of torture ahead of him, knowing he doesn’t stand a chance of changing your mind.
#alliyaps#feel like this isn’t exactly what you asked for#but this is where my brain brought us 😌#also ily ur so sweet#obsessed w/you actually#hockey#nhl#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes one shot#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x y/n#qh43#nhl blurb
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WUTIWANT — IN-HO & GI-HUN

PART TWO — RED LIGHT, GREEN LIGHT SUMMARY: After playing a game of Ddakji with a tall, mysterious man in a subway, you find yourself scared and alone—trapped in a series of deadly games with people who don’t speak your language. PAIRINGS: Thanos x Reader (this chapter only) In-ho x reader, Gi-hun x reader WARNINGS: Reader is American, Gi-hun & In-ho both speak English.
You could understand some basic Korean sayings and phrases, but nothing Duolingo taught you could prepare you for something like this. You had struggled to keep up with conversations in normal, everday Seoul, but now that you were practically kidnapped by unknown men in masks, you didn’t know what to do.
They were saying something about children’s games and a prize from what you could understand, which wasn’t much admittedly. You were then prompted to sign a player consent form before being led to the first game. You stood in a large open roof box, with the walls to be painted like a field, reminiscent of your own childhood.
“Señorita, excuse me.” Someone said in English, you swiftly turned around to be met with a tall man, sporting violet hair. “Hi.” You waved politely. “You speak English?” You ask. “Of course.” The man responds, flexing his large veiny hands. He had multiple rings, a long tattoo, and his nails were painted the colors of the rainbow. “What’s your name?”
“Thanos.” He smiles, giving you a finger heart. “Oh!” You gasp, finally realizing. “I understand the nails now.” You smile. The man was about to say something when a loud robotic voice came over the loudspeakers. ‘The first game is Red Light, Green Light.’ The femme voice said, her tone as monotone as the dark clouds on a stormy day.
‘Cross the finish line without getting caught in five minutes. If you do, you pass.’ This might not be as bad as you thought. It actually sounded pretty easy. When the pink guards were talking about children’s games, you hadn’t expected to know any of them. But Red Light, Green Light? You used to play it all the time. How hard could it be?
“Green light!” The doll on the far side of the arena shouted. You quickly moved up, eager to win, despite the strange circumstances you were brought here under. A man runs in-front of you, yelling something in Korean you cant quite understand. “What’s he saying?” You ask Thanos.
“Just some crazy shit about people dying.” The man responds, unfazed. “Reminds me of my old man.” He chuckles. Huh. “Do you think he’s high?” You ask. Thanos smiles. “Nope.” He pauses as the doll calls out ‘Red Light.’ “No one is like that when they’re high.” You roll your eyes playfully. “You’ve been high?”
“You interested?”
Your conversation is interrupted by a faint buzzing sound. “What’s that?” Player 196, the girl in-front of you asks, staying as still as possible. “It knows you’re a flower.” Thanos pauses again, as if wondering if he should tell her. “There’s a bee on you.” The girl starts screaming and flailing her arms. Good going, ‘Thanos.’
“Crap.” She laughs. “I just moved.” Before she can say anymore though, there’s a gunshot and her body dramatically thuds to the ground. You gasp, your breath catching in the back of your throat as the girl’s blood sprays all over your face. What the hell? The crazed man from earlier yells something else in Korean you can’t understand.
“What is he saying!?” You feel tears streaming down your face. Thanos doesn’t respond. At the next green light, he simply opens his cross and takes out a colorful pill. You ignored him. All you needed to do was make it across the finish line without moving. You used to play this game all the time as a kid, don’t mess it up now.
#squid games x you#squid games x reader#squid games x y/n#squid games oneshot#squid game headcanons#squid games fanfiction#hwang in ho x reader#lee byung hun x reader#front man x reader#young il x reader#in ho x reader#t.o.p x reader#player 230 x reader#x reader#gi hun x reader#gi hun x you#gi hun x in ho#seong gi hun x reader#player 456 x reader#player 001 x you#player 001 x reader#thanos x reader#thanos x y/n#thanos x you
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★ — loss of my life | charles leclerc
Description: You're the biggest superstar in the world. You break up with your longterm boyfriend. It's lonely at the top.
Pairing: singer!reader/charles leclerc

yourname: the love of my life. ❤️ @charles_leclerc
liked by 2,391,039 others
>comments
charles_leclerc: ❤️
yournameuniverse: ok drop the album its been 3 yrs
BirdsofAFeather: OMG OMG SHE'S A SINGER, HE'S A RACECAR DRIVER IT'S A WATTPAD BOOK.
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yourname: short n' sweet is out now 🍭
this feels really surreal, i kind of had to unlearn myself and learn myself again in order to make this album. it's the one i'm most proud of thus far in my life. it's the one i hope you listen to and feel like we were hanging and confiding in each other for an hour. me and the mic were like this the whoole time 🤞🏻 i never thought i would finish it because it was really scary to close the chapter. but i closed it so you can open it! and i hope you do. i hope you love it.
rant over now please stream this shit a lot if you don't mind, it took me years to make lol.
liked by charles_leclerc and 4,698,349 others
>comments
charles_leclerc: ❤️
jaylahespy: crying real tears
ynlnnation: WE'RE LOVING IT
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charles_leclerc: Happy 7th! @yourname
liked by 231,382 others
>comments
yourname: Happy 7th lovey! ❤️🥺
charlesuniverse: THE PERFECT COUPLE
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(MONACO, 2023)
You felt like Elvis Presley. Singing in sold-out arenas and having millions of fans that would constantly stream your songs. It was exhilarating. It was a different type of high. Being famous was 100x better than narcotics, because it gave you money.
Money that afforded lazy days like this.
Both sides of your pillow remained cold. The air-conditioning was in optimal condition. Charles' warm arms were wrapped around you, caging you in his warm embrace. "What time are we gonna get up?" you asked with a chuckle, seeing that his eyes remained closed.
"Brunch," he mumbled weakly - fighting against the sleepiness. "- now let's please get back to sleep." he pleaded, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist. A small giggle escapes your mouth.
"Okay, Mr. Leclerc."

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yourname: liverpool you're the apple of my eye ❤️🥺 thank you for being such a wonderful crowd!!
liked by 2,128,192 others
>comments
YourNameWorld: I LOVE YOU PLEASE NOTICE ME
allatflipflops: LIVERPOOL!
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liked by yourname
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yournamenation: Y/N L/N sings Miss American Pie.
liked by 128,392 others
prongsmoony: Oh it's confirmed
Headoverheels: She also liked that twitter post that's speculating over their breakup...💀
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Y/N L/N and CHARLES LECLERC: ALL WE KNOW ABOUT THE BREAKUP SO FAR. by Poppy Corinthia
When Y/N L/N first began dating Formula One racer Charles Leclerc more than seven years ago, the internet was not shocked. The pair first introduced each other as childhood best-friends, both growing up in Monaco, until L/N's eventual leave to NYC.
A love story like theirs did not stay behind closed doors.
Their relationship was first confirmed by an instagram post made by Y/N L/N (which has since been deleted following her karma album) that is captioned "the love of my life" with a picture of her and Charles Leclerc kissing passionately in Turks and Caicos.
This was followed by back-to-back appearances in the racing paddock, as well as Leclerc's attendance in all of L/N's concerts. July 10, 2024 the streak of attendance has been ruined. Leclerc has also not liked any of L/N's post about her Liverpool concert. Y/N L/N also liked a twitter post speculating their breakup.
But what do you think, reader? Is the IT Couple broken up? or are they simply taking a step back on their public appearances?
>comments
valenciaschitt: Yep I think they're over
HollaParker: I refuse to believe it :(
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yourname: Edinburg, you're the one for me! 🥺 thank you for listening to 'loml' for the first time. the song will be released...an hour after this post. loml is really personal to me, but please always choose to be kind and gentle.
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>comments
CharlesandY/N: "Please always choose to be kind and gentle" THIS IS DEFINITELY ABOUT CHARLES 😭
charlesuniverse: YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE
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Y/NUniverse: When I remember that Y/N got the breakup text 30mins before her show in Liverpool...
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#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 smau#formula one#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#ferrari
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Tittle: Aquatinted (part 2)
Part One
Pairing~Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader
WC: 24.k
Warnings~ smut;)
Summary~ part 2. (Younger Sister to the twin Emperors.As you are forced to sit and watch the games, a certain gladiator catches your attention.) Everything changes when you finally meet one another.
Notes: I’ve seen this movie 3 times already- I might have a problem.☺️ Also if there’s any spelling mistakes- ummmm….
.·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·.
After the first games, you spent all night non-stop thinking of that gladiator Hanno.
“Ugh!” I huffed out.
I had to find a way to meet this man…
It was dangerous when the sun of Rome fell into the cool shades of the night. I covered my body in an old cloak, making sure to blend in when needed. I fast walked through the city until I reached the colosseum. Quickly and quietly I made my way into the building- determined. I dodged the guards searching for the cell he would be in, that’s when I heard a familiar voice speaking.
“Lucius..” A woman spoke.
As I turned the corner to hear more, I saw Lucilla inside the cell with Hanno… or who she believed to be her son Lucius. I was intrigued by this and continued to listen, he started yelling for her to leave and I took that as my queue as well.
‘This is interesting’ I thought to myself, following behind Lucilla.
She made her way back to her house, where I would make myself known.
“Lucilla!” I whispered. She turned around, her tear stained face looked scared now.
I walked out from behind the wall, hood still concealing my face.
“Lucilla… it’s me..” I spoke softy.
“Prin-“ she began to say.
“Shhh” I held my hand to my lips. A look of concern filled her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Lucilla softly demanded.
“Is that gladiator, Lucius? Is he your son?” I whispered.
Her eyes widened, terrified of what was to happen next. “And if he was?” Her voice shaking.
“I- no worries my lips are sealed. He…I need to meet with him… Lucilla if there’s any way..” I pleaded, a noise from in the house stirred and I quickly left.
Lucilla breathed into the cool musk of Rome. Wondering why the Princess of Rome would want anything to do with a gladiator.
─────── ·𖥸· ───────
*The next games*
As the day went on, your thoughts ran rampant. This was your chance to finally meet Hanno… or Lucius, you didn’t even know what was true anymore.
Everyone was sat, awaiting the sounds of the horns. The arena was filled with water and sharks. It was incredibly terrifying to see.
“Why sister, would you care for a swim?” Caracalla laughed.
“Idiot- she can’t swim” Geta side eyed Caracalla, before chuckling with him.
“Broth- Emperors… I shall like very much to meet the glorious victor from yesterday’s game” I smiled brightly.
“And why is that?” Geta looked annoyed at the idea of me even speaking.
“I believe it to be more exciting to meet him… after all he is the champion” I said innocently.
“If he lives” Geta replied.
“Oh how fun to watch him die, and see your wish not come true. WAR!! GIVE ME DEATH!” Caracalla spoke crazily.
I sighed and turned back to see Lucilla staring at me, I gave a small smile and she nodded.
The trumpets sounded and the games had commenced. Fighting brutally the boats had crashed into one another, men thrown over board were shark food and the fires of the sail filled the air of thick smoke. He fought hard, and as the boats hit the side of the wall, an arrow flew right past Geta and landed into the side of my chair, I watched as the gladiator tried to kill what seemed to be the General. I stared at him, eyes locking again. The look of disappointment and regret filled his eyes. I was confused until I felt the pain from my arm kick in, the arrow had grazed me and the cut bled down, dripping onto the floor. They ushered us out and got the games under control.
“Princess!” Lucilla reached for my arm.
“I’m fine, truly tis a scratch” I smiled.
“Emperors I would like to speak to those gladiators- find out who did this” I said sternly. Geta looked around breathing heavily at what just happened.
“Sister, the arrow struck you- Punishments will be made! Trying to shoot Us!” Geta started to shout. Caracalla had that crazy look in his eyes. From around the corner Macrinus calmly stepped up and walked the emperors down the hall, looking behind at me with a sly smile.
─────── ·𖥸· ───────
The thought of the arrow almost killing the princess replayed in Lucius’s mind.
“Who shot that!” The angry guard spoke.
One by one the gladiators said it was them.
“If it was me with the arrow, it would have found its way to you” Lucius spoke to the guard, before walking away.
As Lucius made his way into his cell to rest, he could here heavy footsteps approaching, assuming it was either a guard or Macrinus, he didn’t bother looking up from where he lay.
“Gladiator!” I said loud and stern. Lucius sat up, and his eyes widened a bit, not expecting the princess to be down here in a place like this.
“Princess…” he spoke dull. The keys in my hand jingled as I unlocked his cell door. I could feel his eyes burning through me, I quickly walked into where he was sitting.
Closing the door behind me, “Am I so awful you try to kill me before we could even speak?” I joke trying to diffuse the awkward tension.The blood still down my arm.
“The General…” his said blunt staring at my arm.
“Ah- For a warrior your aim, ‘tis not very good” I chuckled slightly looking down at my arm. “At last-“ I began to speak.
“Why are you down here?” He said confused, now standing up and slowly walking towards me. And yet I don’t move away.
“What is your real name? Hmm? Are you Lucius son of Lucilla or are you Hanno a slave from Romes raging war?” I look up at him, his body was an arms reach away. His face hardened at my question.
“I know not who I am, but I know the general and his armies will pay, and then your brothers..” his voice was calm yet vicious.
“And yet you still have not answered me” I walked past him deeper into the cell. I looked around, still feeling that burning stare.
“Your mother is a great friend of mine” I sighed. “We both want freed from this nightmare that has plagued Rome and its people.” I turned to look at him now. I could see debate in the face he made, most likely deciding whether or not to try and trust me.
“Right” he spoke.
“Hmm” I hummed out.
“Well I best not keep you, as you need rest, and I shall need to bandage myself ” I smiled and began to walk past him.
“Wait-“ he lightly grasped my wrist, “ I’m truly sorry for that arrow hitting you” his eyes had a soft remorse within them.
“I know, I saw in the arena” I smiled. “Well I shall see you tomorrow then, after all I should get to know the man who shot me” I chuckled. Lucius smiled at the remark, He assumed all of Rome was evil but he was wrong.
─────── ·𖥸· ───────
The days would pass and the princess and Lucius would meet in secret. They shared their lives and their passions. And each time she was about to leave, the longing from both filled the cell with thick tension and yet no one acted on it…
The keys in my hand jingled slightly, trying to keep quiet. It was the night before the third game, and I was worried if Lucius was going to survive.
“Lucius?” I whispered through the door.
“Carissima” he spoke softy leaning against the cell, each arm hanging out, face close enough to feel each other’s breath.
“You flatter me” a slight blush on my cheeks. I smiled a his words ‘Dearest’ the nickname earned after the second night of our meetings.
“Well Lucius… hopefully we don’t get caught” I said with a sly smirk.
“Oh?” His eyes blazing.
“Come with me…” I looked up and slightly pushed the door, he took the hint and stepped back.
“Leave..? Are you trying to kill me now?” His eyes widened, and yet he chuckled.
“We just can’t get caught” I grabbed his hand and lead him to a dark corridor, I picked up speed and we were running through the moonlight of Rome. I came to a halt once we made it to the palace.
“This is how you get revenge for a scratch carissima?” His shoulder gently bumped mine.
“Shhh… and I figured a change of scenery would be good for you… unless you want to go back to a cold lonely cell?” I said looking around innocently.
“Lead the way” he spoke. I grabbed his hand and took him through hidden doors and eventually we made it to my room.
“This is where I stay” I let go of his hand, and turned to smile. I was surprisingly shy at the thought of a man in here let alone the man, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with. He walked over to my bed, feeling the soft fabrics and carvings of the bed frame.
“Fancy..” he jested sensing I was a bit nervous.
“Too fancy” I smiled back, making my way over. “Promise me you wont die tomorrow!” I blurted out. My eyes widened in embarrassment.
He took my hand, “I cannot… But I promise to fight for you.” He took a step closer, still holding my hand, he gave it a soft kiss.
“Lucius” I whispered looking up at his face. “I can’t loose you” I took a deep breath.
“I’m right here carissima” He bent his face down slightly, looking from my eyes to my lips. It felt like we were the only people on this world at the moment and i never wanted it to end.
“Lucius” I said again at a loss for words. My voice was breathy, and our bodies kept getting closer.
“Princess… I don’t think you know what you do to me… when you say my name like that” Lucius said with such raw lust. All I could do was look in his eyes, until he closed the gap between us.
The kiss was light, as our lips danced Lucius picked me up gently. He sat down on my bed and I straddled his lap.
“I need you” I said pulling away for air. The look in his eyes turned primal, and like a predator hunting his prey, the second kiss was harsh. He moved from my mouth down to my jaw and then paraded kisses down my neck. I’ve never felt so alive, my hips started moving back and forth longing for something more. His grip on me tightened, Lucius’s hands roaming my body as they made their way down to squeeze my hips. I could feel how hard he was as he pushed my hips down harder and a soft moan escaped my lips.
“I need you” a breathy sigh came out from me.
“Not yet princess, you’re doing so good.” he smiled,continuing to kiss my neck and keep a steady pace with my hips.
“Please… Lucius I need you..” I breathed out, my hands found their way to his hair, lightly tugging on it- he moaned at the action. The sound he made, made my stomach fill with butterflies. I started to move faster, my body craving more and more. He took note and picked me up, laying me on my back. He crawled on top of me and basically tore my dress off. At the sight of my naked body laid before him he spoke “ you are perfect”.
My face flushed at his words and he slowly began to take his clothes off. Once we were both naked he lower his body down kissing me again.
“You look so good under me” he smiled, he lowered his hand, rubbing my clit. A jolt shot through my body and moans started escaping my lips.
“Lucius…” I moaned.
“Do you like that princess?” He said as he inserted his finger into my opening, still continuing to rub circles around me. He pumped in and out and then added another. I was a mess underneath him, and he enjoyed the slight of Royalty melting under his touch. My hips started bucking up wanting more but with his free hand he held me down.
“I need more” I cried. He smirked pulling his fingers out completely.
“Lucius- wha” I began to speak, that’s when he lifted my lower half with ease, lining himself up and inserting himself into me completely. He gave me a moment to adjust before rocking his hips back and forth. He let out moans and praises as he thrusted into me.
“Feels so good” I said.
He picked up the speed our bodies slamming into each other. It felt like a dream, and I didn’t want to wake up. I started to feel a knot in my stomach, and my moans grew louder. He knew I was reaching my high point and continued to thrust harder.
“Lucius-“ I moaned, as my release came out. He continued to rock through my orgasm and then let out his.
He pulled out of me, breathing heavily and our bodies sweaty, he smiled and put his forehead to mine. We spent some time laying beside each other before he had to return back. Our eyes locked for a moment and Lucius began to speak.
“Your body was sculpted from the heavens, and yet..put into the hands of me, I swear on what good is left in this life, if I survive tomorrow..” he spoke.
“I’m yours Lucius, now kiss me before you leave..” I said before he could finish, and we both smiled.
Part.3…..? Lemme know:)
Check out the playlist too 🫶🫶
#gladiator 2#gladiator ll#fanfic#gladiator movie#gladiator smut#lucius versus x reader#lucius verus#lucius verus fic#gladiator 2 smut#smut
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cold nights // part six
summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.7k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: i just finished writing s1, and we're halfway through! so in case anyone was wondering, s1 will have 12 parts :) i haven't started s2 yet but i am so excited to!!
series masterlist // playlist
Days passed, no sign of Coryo. The only reason you know he isn't dead is because Sejanus came and told you he would be alright. That didn't do much to quell your worries.
Selfishly, you were scared you wouldn't get to see him again. You knew you wouldn't, actually. Now you were truly alone. Just you and his blanket, the book he gave you, and the dress your mother made. And Sejanus Plinth, you supposed. None of the surviving tributes would even talk to you- not that you really felt like talking. Just reading. You've read and re-read Romeo and Juliet no less than three times since Coriolanus passed the book through the bars to you the night before you went into the arena.
"I know you asked for this, and it's a little early, but happy birthday." Coryo whispers, smiling as the dark of night encases the two of you into your own little world.
He hands you a small box, wrapped in parcel paper and complete with a ribbon made of some kind of knitting thread. You grin, taking it from his hand and carefully untying the bow, delicately pulling the paper apart where it's taped together so as not to rip it. A copy of Romeo and Juliet. Old, tattered, falling apart; well-loved.
"Oh, Coryo, you didn't have to give me anything. That's too sweet." You grin, immediately flipping through the pages despite the dark preventing you from seeing a single word. "Thank you."
"Of course." He says, watching only you as your eyes flick over the pages. What little light falls from the moon is reflected in your eyes, and he wouldn't dare look away.
"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." You say softly, and at first, he thinks you're talking to yourself until you look up at him. A small, almost shy smile fit perfectly onto your lips.
"You like it?" He asks, the answer obvious even to him.
"I love it."
You were his tribute. Not a friend, certainly not more, but as he reaches through the bars to let his fingers brush over your cheek all rational thought means nothing. He doesn't realize he's staring at your lips until you comment on it.
"Is this why you asked if I have a boyfriend?" You whisper, your natural smile returns, and he's quickly looking anywhere else. Your eyes, your hair, the spot where his fingertips meet your cheekbone just below your hairline. Anywhere else. "Because I know it wasn't on that list of questions."
He's quickly backtracking, dropping his hand. This was wrong and he knew it. "I, uh, Tigris made you some cake. It's not good, but it's the best we could do." He says, redirecting his attention to his bag as he pulls out the small paper bag.
You sit back, blushing furiously. "I'm sure it's delicious." You smile, and it comes across more nervously than you intended.
"Here." He hands it to you, and you gently place the book next to you on the ground so you don't get any crumbs on it. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."
And just like that, he's gone.
You're grateful when you see Sejanus coming back with his bag of food and water. It had become some form of a routine, at this point. The citizens of the Capitol weren't allowed to bring you food anymore, he was the only one who did for you now that Coryo was gone, and now that his tribute had escaped as well.
"Sejanus." You smile, standing up as he gets closer.
"Y/N. Holding up okay?" He asks, a sad look behind his tired eyes. He looked almost as tired as you, you were sure, but you hadn't seen a mirror since you left your house before the reaping.
You sigh. "I'm holding up." You answer simply. Sejanus is the only person you feel comfortable being totally honest with, but at the same time, you don't want to because you know he already feels bad for what you're going through. He's the only one outside this cage who kind of understands. "How about you?"
"I'm alright." He shrugs, reaching into his bag and pulling out a sandwich for you. You could never get sick of these. "I also have salt, if it needs more of that." He hands you a small bag of table salt alongside it.
"Thank you." You grin, tucking the bag into your pocket incase you needed it. "Any news about Coryo?" You ask hopefully, taking a bite. You already feel your starvation-induced nausea fading away.
"Not really. He's recovering, though." Sejanus answers. "Are you ready for the interview tonight?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." You grin. "I was right, I didn't need the book. I already had the whole thing memorized, but it's been so lovely to get to read it again."
"It must be." He nods. "Gives you something to do."
You hum in agreement, looking around at the other tributes. No one is even moving much anymore. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
You look down at your sandwich while you think about how you want to word this. "Is Coryo..." No, that's not it. "I got the feeling that he actually cared for me. Is that true?"
"Coryo has never been one to tell anyone what he's thinking." Sejanus says, entirely unhelpfully. That's not his fault, though. "But if I had to guess, I would say yes."
"I'm just wondering because it's nice to have friends now. Here. At the end." You smile sadly before taking another bite. "And I was worried I had upset him."
"You? No." Sejanus shakes his head. "I don't think you could if you tried."
"Why's that?"
"Well... It's hard to explain. He's always been super focused on school, on the prize, but now, when it matters most, I feel like he's more focused on you and making sure you actually win." He tells you. "But, like I said, he wouldn't talk about it even if I asked him outright."
You nod. "Thank you, Sejanus. For always being honest with me."
"Of course. It's the very least I can do, all things considered."
"Can I ask you for one more favour?" You ask hopefully. "If not I understand, you must be quite busy."
"I have the rest of my life to be busy." He shakes his head. "What do you need?"
"Will you tell Coryo thank you, for me?"
"Yes. Of course." He agrees without hesitation.
"And do you have a pencil and paper?"
Sejanus headed home for a while and then back to the hospital after his visit with you, armed with your note in his pocket to pass on to Coryo. He was hoping he would be awake right now, he had been so on and off the last few days. More grumpy than normal, and Sejanus could tell it was driving him up the wall that he couldn't go see you. But the interviews had already started, so he would get to see you soon- even if it's just through the screen.
"Tigris." He whispers, pulling back the curtain as he sees the familiar girl sitting at his friend's side. She hadn't left her cousin most of the time he'd been bedridden, she was there every time Sejanus checked in.
"Oh, hello." She whispers, smiling at him. "He's still resting, but he's feeling a bit better today I think."
"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Sejanus agrees, taking the seat next to her. "I went to see Y/N. She's eaten. She doesn't look good, though."
Tigris nods, returning her gaze to her sleeping cousin and pushing his hair away from his eyes. It's not like he needs to see, but she would do it anyway. Just to make sure he wouldn't be annoyed when he woke up. "He's been worrying about her. I can tell."
"She asked me if she did something to upset him. Has he said anything to you?"
"No, nothing." She shakes her head, lip jutting out at the confusing statement. Nothing at all would indicate to her that he was upset with you, but it's entirely possible that stuck in that cage day in and day out you could quickly become paranoid about who you could trust.
"Okay, good. That's what I told her anyway." He tries to be quiet as he speaks, but the whispering wakes his friend anyway.
Coryo's eyes fly open and he gasps, eyes landing on the two of them sitting in front of him.
"Coryo," Tigris says softly, a small, worried smile on her face.
"Y/N?" He asks, his voice husky from sleep. "Is she-"
"She's alive," Tigris promises, gently rubbing his arm, landing her hand on his and squeezing it gently.
"Is she hurt?"
"Not badly." Sejanus shakes his head. "A few decent cuts and bruises, but she'll be okay. I brought her some antibiotics the other day so nothing will get infected." You won't be okay, they both know that, but you certainly wouldn't be dying from the minor injuries you sustained in the rebel bombing.
He nods, slightly, trying to sit up. "How long was I sleeping? What did I miss?"
"Another tribute died from injuries," Sejanus replies. "Everyone is still scared. No one will go see them anymore, I haven't seen any of the other mentors there either. But I've been feeding her. She's okay."
Coryo nods, wincing at the pain in his back as he moves. The burn was bad, but apparently, it was healing well.
"Marcus is still missing. I haven't heard anything about him. They're hunting him but I still think he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Coryo asks, rubbing his head with his free hand, Tigris still holding his other one. "They're still going ahead with the games?"
Sejanus just slightly shakes his head, looking away. Coryo knows that that is a yes.
"Oh no... Y/N.... She could've run," He mumbles. "But she saved me."
"I tried to convince her to. I did." Sejanus reminds him. "She wouldn't budge."
All heads turn as Lucky's voice on the TV catches their attention. "And now, our final tribute. I first met this young lady in the zoo not too long ago. From District Twelve, Y/N Y/L/N. Come on out here!"
Lucretius motions for you to step out onto the stage and you do, gently placing the book and the blanket you had brought with you on the floor in a neat pile before joining him.
"Lucretius." You smile. "It's good to see you." You're nervous in front of so many people, the audience in front of you is much larger than the small one you spoke in front of at the reaping, and being in front of a camera without Coryo by your side made you antsy.
"You as well, Darling. Now, I was told you had something you wanted to do for us so I'll just leave you to that. Charm us! Remember, the world is watching." He smiles, gently patting your shoulder before walking just out of view of the cameras. His statement was far from reassuring.
"Uhm..." You stare out at the audience, and suddenly you're scared you've forgotten the entire thing. You had to do well. For Coryo and his prize. He needed this. "I've become aware that not many people know this play." You chuckle, trying to hide your nervousness behind it. "But Romeo and Juliet has always held a special place in my heart and I want to share that with the world, before I go."
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You wonder if Coryo is watching. He's not here, you're sure of that, but you do hope he gets to see. And he does.
He stands up as soon as your face first appears on the screen, declining help from both Tigris and Sejanus as he limps over to the TV, cranking up the volume. Your fate depends on this, he knows it, but he can't look past the blue tint under your eyes and the bruises that litter almost every part of your exposed skin. The cuts are what get him the most. Your knuckles are cleaned up, mostly, but red and irritated as you twist your hands together nervously in front of you. Same with the crude black stitches on your upper arm. Irritated, neglected by professionals, but at least it wasn't serious.
"Come on... You can do it." He mumbles mostly to himself, and Tigris reaches up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder as the three of them watch.
"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Immediately, he is confused. He expected to be, of course, but he could also tell as soon as you started reciting it, after the first line, your confidence was coming back to you. This play was your safe space.
"Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I'll no longer be a Capulet." You look out at the silent audience as you speak, a smile forming on your lips. They're listening. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."
Coryo is wishing you had explained more to him about what this play is about. "What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, nor arm nor face nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name." He should have asked. Why didn't he ask? You told him yourself that you could talk about it for hours. Why didn't he take advantage of that when he had the chance?
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title." A rose. Of course a rose, was this for him? He longed to understand it better as he watched the donations tracker tick up and up toward the thousands.
"Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name, which is no part of thee," You take a deep breath for the first time since you started speaking. "Take all myself."
It was a beat or two before the audience clued in that you were done, and then the cheers started. A standing ovation, people wiping their eyes and clapping for you like you had changed their lives.
"Wow! Now wasn't that something, everyone!" Lucky laughs, coming back into the frame of Coryo's view from the camera. Tigris was in tears. The continual uptick of the donations counter was reassuring to him. As you smiled, cheeks flushing red. "The donations are just flooding in with a record high! That must feel good."
"Thank you, it does." You nod at Lucky, trying to place all your focus on him so you don't get too embarrassed in front of the crowd. At least you knew Coryo would be pleased. If you understood his prize situation as well as you thought you did, this was very good for him. "I just want to make my family and my mentor proud."
"You have a real talent. It's such a shame." The host says to you and you laugh awkwardly.
"Well, everyone loves something. I just loved books."
You continually referring to yourself in the past tense makes Coryo want to puke, looking away from the screen only briefly to take in the other nurses and patients watching too.
"We have just a few moments left, but I need to know, what is that about?"
"Oh! Well, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy." You explain, back to yourself again. "It's about two star-crossed lovers from feuding families. So, what Juliet was talking about, to put it very simply because I could go on and on about this, was that she loved Romeo for who he was- not just his name or his family. It didn't matter to her that they came from different places. She loves him anyway, and if he couldn't let go of his family, she would give up her own life for him."
Coryo's eyes widen. So it was about him. He can't help the tug on his lips that threatens to form a smile.
"Alrighty then, that's very sweet." Lucky replies. "Now, you said it's a tragedy. What is so tragic about a love story?"
"Well," You chuckle nervously. "They both die at the end."
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🏀 buzzer beater | chapter SIX.
nba!gojo x manager!reader
summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.
warnings: language, mentions of smoking, absurdly cute dogs. || sfw. 2.6k words.
PRACTICE IS IN full swing at Jujutsu Arena two days later when a girl walks through the back doors with two massive dogs.
The sounds of thumping basketballs and squeaking shoes and shouts echo down the hall from the gym, the doors wide open, and you wonder if Yaga will be mad that there are dogs in here.
You don’t really care—you’re chiefly concerned with the fact that these dogs are so fucking cute and you are sprinting over to pet them before she’s halfway down the hall. They’re the same size, definitely the same breed, maybe some kind of husky mix—one is jet black and the other pure white.
“Hello!” you coo, sinking to your knees as the white one licks your face. The girl laughs and tries to pull them back, but they’re too excited. “Yes, hi! Who are you, cuties?”
“Sorry! They’re very friendly.”
The girl holding the leashes has long, dark hair pulled into a ponytail, two strands loose and curling at her chin. She looks up as you hear footsteps behind you, and the dogs pull free of the girl’s grip to jump on Megumi. “Hi!” he laughs. “Miss me?”
“Hello, my favorite sister, thank you for watching my dogs again, how are you?” the girl says flatly, hands on her hips. “Oh, great, thank you for asking!”
Megumi is fully on the ground now, the dogs wagging their tails at the speed of light and climbing all over him. He grins up at her through their fur. “Thank you,” he relents.
Ah. This must be Tsumiki.
“They’re yours?” You sink your fingers into soft white fur. “Why have you never brought them before? I will literally cuddle with them every practice—”
“That’s why,” he says, raising a brow. “You know you wouldn’t get anything done if they were around.”
“Excuse you.” You make a face, but he’s very right. You’re already fully prepared to sacrifice your entire workday to pet them.
“This is Shiro,” Megumi tells you as the white dog jumps up to lick your face, “and this is Kuro—hey, down! Shiro. Down. Good girl.” He laughs and pats Shiro on the head as she flops onto the ground.
Megumi isn’t cleared to play for two more days, but he’s been coming to practice to watch and talk strategy with Kusakabe. This is the most animated you’ve seen him since the concussion—actually, this might be the most animated you’ve seen him ever. You’ve never seen him this soft before, this affectionate. The love he has for these dogs is palpable.
“Oi.” Tsumiki walks over and yanks Megumi to his feet, standing on her tiptoes and holding his face in her hands. She glares at him. “Next time you get concussed on national television, answer your phone, Gumi.”
“Sorry, Miki,” he mumbles, heat rising to his cheeks when he realizes he’s getting chewed out by his sister in front of you. He’s significantly taller than her, but you know immediately that he’ll do anything she asks of him. The older sister aura is undeniable.
“You’re lucky Yuji called me or I would’ve flown up there myself to slap you.”
Megumi rolls his eyes and Tsumiki releases him from her hold. The dogs crowd around his legs, butting their heads up against him until he pets them. “C’mon,” Megumi says. “They’re practicing. Gojo will want to say hi.”
You initially think Yaga might be pissed about the dogs being in the gym, but he’s got a soft spot for them—they trot in ahead of Megumi, and he can’t even reprimand them. They even get Kusakabe to smile. They’re well-behaved, not venturing onto the court, just hovering around Megumi obediently.
Notably less well-behaved, Gojo drops a ball the second he sees Tsumiki and abandons whatever drill he’s running, bounding over to the side of the court. “Tsumiki!” he yells, and scoops her up in a hug.
“Satoru—ew, you’re sweaty! Stop, I have class!”
As soon as Gojo is off the court the dogs are all over him. They love him, and are obviously very familiar with him. Kuro tries to chew on his headband, and Gojo is fully rolling around the floor in a two-on-one wrestling match within seconds.
“Okay, okay,” Yaga interrupts eventually. “Back to work.” Gojo sighs dramatically and nudges the dogs in your direction.
“I’m being evicted,” he tells them sadly. “Go to Team Mom. She’ll take care of you.” You roll your eyes but immediately let Shiro sprawl across your lap. She’s too big to be a lapdog, but she doesn’t seem to know or care, which is fine by you.
You were planning to head out earlier today, but you wind up leaned against Kuro with Shiro nestled across your lap for the duration of the practice. You balance your laptop on top of Shiro. She doesn’t seem to mind.
Tsumiki’s settled in beside you, killing time before she has to leave.
“You’re the default dogsitter, then?”
She laughs, ruffling Shiro’s fur. “Yeah, when the team’s away. It’s the only form of payment he’ll take for helping me pay for grad school.” She rolls her eyes. “Even though I’d do it either way. I couldn’t drop them off tonight because I have class, and since Gumi’s not cleared to drive I figured I’d just swing by here before.” You smile at the nickname, remembering his name in Gojo’s contacts.
“What are you in grad school for?”
“Social work,” she says. “Gumi’s been really supportive about it, which is sweet. Satoru too.”
Right. Gojo considers both of them family. “That’s really cool,” you say truthfully. “Why social work?”
Tsumiki sighs, watching Megumi bent over a tablet with Kusakabe, deep in conversation. “We didn’t have the best home situation growing up,” she admits. “I honestly wasn’t sure we were gonna make it, at least before Satoru showed up. I want to make sure that kind of stuff doesn’t happen to other kids.”
Her voice is soft as she runs a hand along Kuro’s back, and she tears her gaze away from Megumi to look at you. “You can ask,” she says, smiling. “Really, it’s okay.”
You feel the heat on your cheeks, feeling caught. You are curious. So curious. You take a moment to choose the right words. “Gojo told me he met you guys when Megumi was still in high school,” you say finally. “And Megumi didn’t think he could play D1.”
“Ah,” Tsumiki says. “He didn’t think he could go to college at all, really, even though I told him to. I was… really sick, around the time he was being scouted. At that point, he was all I had. I was all he had. He was going to work full-time to pay the medical bills.”
She doesn’t have to say it, for you to put two and two together. I did him a favor.
“He paid them,” you realize aloud, looking for him on the court without realizing it. “Gojo paid your medical bills. So Megumi could go D1.”
You slam your mouth shut as soon as you say it, feeling like you’ve overstepped, jumped to conclusions. But Tsumiki’s just got that same warm smile on her face, nodding. “Yeah. He really… I don’t know where we’d be without him. Where I’d be, without both of them.”
She seems to register the range of emotions on your face, the way you’re fumbling for words, and mercifully takes the conversation in a new direction. “Which is why I’m very grateful to you,” she says, “for keeping them on track.”
You laugh, startled. “Well, they certainly make it easier than the last place I came from.”
Tsumiki hums, like she knows what you mean. “Megumi likes you,” she says. “The last manager they had here wasn’t nearly as good, he said.”
The heat rises to your cheeks and you look down, fighting off a surprised smile. Megumi isn’t the most vocal—you’ve never had the impression that he doesn’t like you, but you also never expected to actually be praised by him.
“Says you keep Satoru in check,” Tsumiki says, “which is quite the feat.”
You chuckle. “Nobody can keep him in check. Not really.” Tsumiki just shakes her head and smiles.
“But you recognize that,” she says, “and that makes you different.”
You’re not sure what to do with her quiet observation, and for a while the two of you watch practice in companionable silence, interrupted only by the thumping of dog tails and the sounds of the gym.
She heads out after about fifteen minutes, waving to Gojo and forcing Megumi into a hug.
“I’ll pick them up the night before you fly out,” she promises, and kisses both of the dogs goodbye.
“So are they your dogs now or can I have them back?” Megumi asks as practice winds down, arms folded as he looks down at you. You smile up at him, thinking about what Tsumiki said. Megumi likes you. It means a lot to you, you realize, that he thinks you’re good at your job. Something warm blooms in your chest at the sentiment.
“They are my best friends now and forever,” you announce. “I will die for them.” Kuro’s tail thumps happily beside you.
Yuji plops down beside you and Kuro sits up, licking the sweat off his face. “Hi, cutie!” he says. “Hi! Yeah, who’s a good boy? You’re the best boy. Yes you are. I love you, yep, sure do. Goooood boy.”
Megumi rolls his eyes. “You ready to go?” He throws a set of car keys at Yuji and he catches them in one hand, the other still scratching Kuro behind the ears.
“You ready?” Yuji asks the dog. “You ready to go? Yeah? Let’s go!” He must be giving Megumi a ride since he’s not cleared to drive yet.
“Bye, little buddies,” you coo, booping each of their noses in turn. Shiro licks your face and Kuro butts his head against the heel of your hand, and then they’re following Megumi down the hall.
“Met the sister, huh?” Gojo says as you stand, brushing the dog fur off your pants unsuccessfully. “Man, I love those dogs.”
“She’s cool,” you say. “I like her. And I love them. I’ve never seen Fushiguro that soft.”
“Oh, yeah, he’s an absolute sap for them,” Gojo laughs. You watch the expression on his face like you can uncover something there. He’s softer when he talks about Megumi, about Tsumiki, a relaxed curve to his lips and a warm look in his eyes. You feel like there’s an entire person in Satoru Gojo, one wholly separate from the NBA star, who you haven’t really gotten to know.
Things have started to click into place now, filled in by Tsumiki’s side of the story. It makes sense that Gojo would be so worried about Megumi getting hurt. If he isn’t able to play, he isn’t able to help Tsumiki pay for grad school. Gojo would offer to pay, and Megumi and Tsumiki wouldn’t let him—they still feel like they owe Gojo as it is.
Gojo knows all of this, and on top of it, considers the Fushiguros family. He knows Megumi would run himself ragged trying to support Tsumiki on whatever income he could. He wouldn’t let her drop out. And it makes sense, too, that he didn’t feel it was his place to say anything—you’re glad that you heard about Tsumiki’s medical issues from Tsumiki herself, even if you’re surprised she was so forthcoming about them despite barely knowing you.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Gojo asks, tapping you on the temple. You pull back and swat his hand away, snapping out of your reverie.
“I’m thinking of all the ways Utahime and I can make fun of you.”
“How dare you,” he gasps, clutching his chest. “You wound me.” He grins and tosses Kento a ball as he goes around collecting them, shoving them into a mesh bag. “Well, I’ve got a Fushiguro to annoy. See you tomorrow, Alley Cat.”
You roll your eyes and wave him off, and he whistles as he disappears from view.
—
The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Megumi returns to practice, Yaga drills the team until they drop, and you're spending every waking hour prepping for Baltimore.
The thing is, you are worried. Worried about making it past round two of the playoffs, worried about playing a second seed on their home court.
But the Sorcerers win.
And then they win again.
And again.
You hardly have any time to yourself in the whirlwind of the next two weeks. It's a fast-paced cycle of flying and emailing and calling, arguing with Gojo over whether pineapple belongs on pizza (he says it does), and crashing in hotels after midnight with Ieiri either smoking or snoring on the other side of the room. Press requests are coming in even more than usual because of the upset. The headlines are flooding your inbox.
WOLVERINES FALL TO SORCERERS ON HOME COURT
SECOND-ROUND EASTERN CONFERENCE UPSET HAS WOLVERINES FANS ON EDGE
THIRD SEED SORCERERS ON THEIR WAY TO UNEXPECTED SWEEP?
It's too good to be true, and at the fourth game Baltimore manages to get a win over your team. Yuji's uncle Sukuna gets kicked out of Jujutsu Arena again in a rage, and the loss jars your team—Gojo tries to give them a pep talk, but it mostly centers around the idea that they're better than everyone else, and Ino seems to be the only one really listening.
It's a tough loss, but you're still 3-1. And when you fly back up to Baltimore, you have a feeling it'll be for the last time this season.
You practically fall into Nobara in relief when Ino slams the last shot in just before the buzzer, solidifying the Sorcerers' place in the conference finals. Kento grins, actually grins, and tries to give Ino a high-five that Ino immediately turns into a full-fledged hug.
A series of texts from the Samurai's manager comes in only moments later.
nitta: SEE YOU ON THE 17 !!!! nitta: utahime's so mad nitta: i'm thrilled. we can get sushi
Gojo plucks your phone from your hand and holds it up above you so you can't reach it, and you scowl and briefly consider kneeing him in the nuts in front of the entire stadium.
"Don't text and manage," he says, and you roll your eyes.
"I'm trying to set up conference finals, but if you don't want to go, that's fine," you lie. You were reading Nitta's texts; close enough. Gojo grins and drops the phone back into your hands.
"Conference finals!" he whoops, practically singing as he bounces on the balls of his feet. "Oh, I can't wait to see Utahime."
"She can wait to see you," you say, but Nobara's already pulling Gojo off to the side, camera in hand. You watch as she shoves a clip mic at him and starts barraging him with questions. He takes them in stride, answering animatedly and at one point pulling Megumi into the frame against his will.
You've actually missed talking to him the past week. It's been a hectic few days, and though you've had your share of meaningless arguments and snarky comments and eye rolls, you haven't had a real conversation with Satoru since New York. Now that you know about Tsumiki, there's a part of you that desperately wants to ask him about Geto, about why he was so against Megumi being drafted, about the conflict you can't seem to figure out.
Because despite everything, you do know Geto. And you know it wasn't mere jealousy or insecurity that had him pulling a move like that.
It jars you, shakes you, makes you question the last several years and every interaction you've ever had with him, but when Gojo catches your eye over Nobara's shoulder and smiles, you realize something.
You can't remember why you ever hated him.
directory. || prev. || next.
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shoutout to @reactwithjan for saying that gojo would order pineapple on pizza bc he would and he does.
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I Can Show You Lies
I'll Write Your Name Chapter 11
Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader
6.6k words
Warnings: Language, angst and pining, Vigilante Shit & Roy's very understandable reaction, mentions of an almost-hookup, Roy is still an idiot
A/N: I hope you enjoy the angst! I can't believe I'm almost done with this series... Thank you for being so wonderful as always ❤️
“Uncle Roy, did you get all these bracelets last night?”
Roy glanced over his shoulder from our spot in the kitchen to the living room, where Phoebe was. “Yeah,” he called to his niece before turning to face me again. “Thanks,” he continued, grinning down at the tickets on the counter. “She’s going to lose her shit.”
My own smile grew as I looked over at Phoebe, sitting crisscross on the living room floor and sorting through the friendship bracelets Roy had been sporting the night before. “I’m a little offended you felt like you had to ask,” I teased as I took a bite of one of the cookies I’d brought over with a pair of concert tickets. “I thought you bringing her would be a given.”
Before Roy could answer, Phoebe’s little voice cut though our conversation. “Uncle Roy, why does this one say ‘Daddy’?”
Cookie crumbs sprayed onto the counter as I tried and failed to hold back a laugh. Roy shot me a dirty look, his face furiously red as he stammered out a couple syllables of nonsense.
“Uncle Roy!” Phoebe ran into the kitchen, clutching the bracelet in question. “Are you two having a baby?!”
My face was probably as red as Roy’s now. I eyed the manager, wondering how the hell he wanted to navigate this one.
“No one’s having a baby,” he growled, hastily taking the bracelet from his niece and stuffing it into his pocket.
Her smile faded into a small pout. “Oh,” she sighed. “I would’ve liked having a baby cousin.”
At least this time I didn’t have a cookie in my mouth to spit out. Roy paused for a moment, eyes flickering briefly to me, before snatching the pair of tickets from the kitchen counter.
“Here,” he said simply as he handed them to Phoebe.
There were a few seconds of silence in the kitchen as she scrunched her nose and cocked her head, studying the tickets she clutched. That silence was pierced by a high-pitched shriek as Phoebe threw her arms around her uncle, who now wore that smile he only ever had for her. He laughed and hugged her back, planting a little kiss to the top of her blonde hair.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she was gushing, sounding like she was about to border on hyperventilating at any moment.
“You’re welcome,” he chuckled, releasing her slightly; he was probably hoping she’d take a breath or two, I realized. When we locked eyes over the top of her head, his smile softened. “D’you think there’s someone else you’d better thank?”
In an instant, Phoebe’s arms were around my waist as the little girl beamed up at me. “Thank you,” she repeated. “Thank you so much. This is going to be the best night of my life!”
Unable to help myself, I hugged her back tightly. “You’re so welcome, Pheebs. I hope you have a good time tonight.” I glanced back at her uncle, who was watching us with that familiar fondness on his face. “Both of you,” I added with a grin.
~
“Wembley, you are looking beautiful tonight!”
The crowd cheered boisterously for the popstar, who smiled as she took in the sold-out arena. Roy was impressed; her energy was just as strong as the previous night, her awe and amazement genuine, as though this was her first time performing for a full stadium as opposed to her second night in the row.
When Roy managed to tear his eyes away, he looked down at his niece. The look on her little face was magical. She was completely entranced with the show- the lights, the dancers, the music, her- that she barely even looked at Roy. He smiled to himself, remembering his own catatonic state the previous night; this must have been what it was like for Keeley and Jamie. This concert really was impressive, he told himself. That was why he’d been so enraptured, of course.
Onstage, the singer strummed her guitar casually, beaming at her screaming fans. “You know,” she was saying, “I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors lately. And, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to clarify something.” The song she began to play was familiar, bouncy and fun, sending the entire stadium into an uproar.
I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey But something happened, I heard him laughing I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent They say home is where the heart is But that's not where mine lives
When Roy glanced down, his niece was positively gleeful, singing along to every word of the pop hit from the singer’s previous album. He felt a strange surge of pride at how familiar he was now with her discography. A smile on his own face, he turned back to the stage just in time for the first chorus, her pretty voice almost drowned out by the fans who sang along.
You know I love a London boy I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon He likes my American smile Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you
Roy bopped his head along, almost tempted himself to sing along; maybe, just maybe, by the end of this tour he would be, he pondered. That would be fucking something. Surely their publicists would be thrilled at that image, of Roy Kent singing along to these silly love songs that weren’t as silly as he’d initially believed them to be.
And now I love high tea, stories from Chelsea, and from Richmond You can find me in the pub, we are watching football with his teammates
The stadium practically shook with excitement at the lyric changes. Roy’s cheeks were red-hot from the sight of all the eyes- and camera phones- that turned his way immediately. His face burned hotter when he caught that cheeky grin onstage, clearly smug over the reaction her surprise had garnered from her fans. Roy laughed and shook his head when their eyes met; he could admit when he’d been bowled over.
But God, I love the English- And he laughs at all my jokes And he says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of him To make me feel this much
Fucking hell, Roy thought, tearing his eyes away from the singer to marvel at the crowd. Has Wemley ever been this loud in its entire history?
He vaguely knew the song she’d switched over to; it was by another singer, another American popstar, he recalled. It was a cute song, one that Phoebe really liked, based on the way she bounced and sang along. He’d heard that this was a common thing at her concerts, covering songs by friends or singers she really admired, as well as mashups. And, if the crowd’s reactions were anything to go by, this would end up being a fan favorite.
I'd go anywhere he goes And he says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry him If he keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love
Her eyes were on his, sparkling and joyful. Fuck, she was perfect up there, singing and smiling. Something in Roy’s chest ached as he watched her, that weird ache he’d begun to feel back at the lake, the one that popped up in her kitchen and at the quinceañera. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, or what he should do about it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he liked it.
But damn, he couldn’t help but admit to himself as she basked in the audience’s deafening applause. He sure as hell liked watching her.
~
The Liverpool crowd was deafening, just as loud as the fans at Wembley had been. The first three shows in London had streamed all over TikTok; it was fun to see people so excited to share their experiences, but I had worried about it taking some of the surprise away for other fans. If the Anfield Stadium audience felt any disappointment, they sure as hell weren’t showing it. They screamed and cheered and cried just as much as that first night at Wembley did.
One of my stagehands, one who’d been touring with me for years now, handed me my guitar with a smile and a wink, the way he always did. I slid the strap over my shoulder and smiled into the microphone, letting the sound of the stadium sink into my heart. I didn’t care how many times I did this or how “used to it” I was supposed to be; every little moment made me wonder when I was going to wake up from this fantasy.
“Liverpool,” I started, the simple few syllables sending the stadium into pandemonium. I laughed and shook my head. “Being here is so unreal. I mean, you’re only the home of the biggest band in history!” The mention of the city’s musical history garnered more shouts and cheers. “And I would be completely remiss if I didn’t take the opportunity to pay tribute to them and share one of my favorite songs with you.”
I closed my eyes and gave a little strum, smiling at the light, easy sound, one I’d played countless times in my bedroom as a teenager.
Here, making each day of the year Changing my life with a wave of his hand Nobody can deny that there′s something there There, running my hands through his hair Both of us thinking how good it can be Someone is speaking But he doesn't know she′s there
Through the lights and blur of faces I managed to find Roy’s eyes, a familiar anchor now that made my smile grow instinctively. I shook my head at him as I sang, hoping he’d recognize the look in my eyes, the one I always wore when he was around. His own grin widened as the song went on, and I swore I saw him mouthing along to the words. Somehow, in a stadium of thousands of people, it felt like it was just the two of us, the way it had been by the lake, where the rest of the world didn’t matter as long as we were together.
Knowing that love is to share Each one believing that love never dies Watching their eyes And hoping I′m always there I will be there, and everywhere Here, there and everywhere Mmm-mmm Here, there and everywhere
As the stadium burst into cheers and applause, I kept my eyes on Roy, who wore that stupidly bashful and adorable grin that made my insides scramble. Unable to help myself, I blew a kiss in his direction and mouthed the three words I couldn’t help but think every time I saw him-
“I love you.”
~
Roy should be used to the knowing smiles at this point, he realized. For months now, the Greyhounds had smirked and winked at him whenever her name, her music, her pretty face appeared. So, he really should have known they’d spend half her concert with their eyes on him rather than the stage.
She’d generously offered to host the Greyhounds at any show they wanted to attend, probably assuming they would want to see her at Wembley. Instead, Richard had joked about everyone coming to France for the Paris show, Jamie had said something about wanting to take April to see the Eiffel Tower, Colin commented that he and Michael were planning on something special for their next holiday, and the next thing Roy knew, about half the team was booking flights and hotels to see her opening night in Paris.
Roy wasn’t sure how many of her shows he was supposed to travel to- especially with pre-season training looming on the horizon- but he was keen to fit in as many as he could. Initially, he’d grimaced at the thought of seeing the same show over and over, convinced that it would eventually grow tiresome to keep rewatching it. But, not for the first time, the pop star proved Roy wrong. Between the energy of the crowds, her adlibs and surprise song performances, and, honestly, her magnetic showmanship, Roy found himself just as enthralled as he’d been that first night at Wembley.
And he had to admit, seeing his team so mesmerized was pretty fucking fun.
“Roy, you must really love those costumes of hers, no?” Richard chuckled, elbowing Roy in the side. “Does she ever bring them back after a show?”
All Roy could do was roll his eyes and blush, hoping that was a believable enough response for his player. As he watched her strut in the dark blue bodysuit she’d suddenly appeared in- this one’s new, Roy mused with a quirked eyebrow- Roy couldn’t help pondering that last bit of Richard’s teasing. Those bodysuits were flattering, he admitted. Each and every one was custom-made, after all, designed to show off both her fluid dance moves and her gorgeous figure. He’d stumbled upon some photos and videos online of people- men and women alike- gushing over how good she looked and calling Roy a lucky man.
Yeah, he admitted with a dry chuckle as he watched the lights change for the next song. If this was real, I’d probably insist on seeing those fucking outfits at home.
But he didn’t have time to scold himself for his admittedly dirty thoughts, or to linger on what those thoughts could mean. Not when the music started and the dancers appeared back onstage with- chairs?
On Roy’s other side, Jamie leaned close. “Don’t remember this part,” he said, echoing Roy’s own thoughts.
Before Roy could confirm the striker’s comment, his mouth went completely dry.
Shrieks and screams filled the stadium, along with the sultry music, but Roy honestly couldn’t hear any of it. Not over his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, drowning out every noise in the packed stadium- except for her voice.
Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them
Once again, he knew the eyes of his teammates- and probably a lot of other people- were on him. But, fucking fucking fuck, he could only gaze at the vision onstage.
She stood center stage in that shimmering bodysuit- with so many damn cutouts he wondered if she was sewn into the thing- looking like sin itself with that red smirk of hers. One boot stomped onto the seat of the chair in sync with the music, showing off those thick, powerful thighs that Roy couldn’t help remembering feeling wrapped around him. Her movements, while smooth and confident as ever, were methodical now, copied by dancers Roy’s fuzzy brain barely registered.
I don't dress for women I don't dress for men Lately I've been dressing for revenge
Her hand traveled down her front slowly, tantalizingly, bringing Roy’s wide eyes down its seductive path that ended before it could land anywhere truly scandalous. The smile she flashed was sinful and teasing- and aimed right at him.
Without missing a beat, she turned and plopped herself into the chair with practiced ease, bouncing enticingly with her legs spread, the way Roy suddenly wished she would bounce on-
Whoa, he warned himself, swallowing hard and forcing himself to blink. Don’t fucking go there, Kent. He wasn’t sure what he was more worried about: crossing lines that had already been violated, or his… arousal becoming obvious to anyone who glanced at his jeans. More than ever, Roy Kent needed to get his imagination under control- and fast.
But it was as if she was trying to thwart his attempts to keep his cool. She stood and strutted as she sang in that sultry voice, the sequins on her costume shimmering as if they were trying to keep his attention on her suggestive movements. Hips that dipped just so, coquettish winks over her shoulder, open-mouth smirks; Roy couldn’t stop watching her even if he wanted to.
And she looks so pretty Driving in your Benz Lately she's been dressing for revenge
Oh fuck, she was doing that hand thing again. An involuntary gulp travelled down Roy’s throat as he once again forced himself to blink, briefly wondering what kind of dazed expression he wore; he’d be seeing it soon enough on social media, he thought wryly. There was no fucking way his every reaction wasn’t going to end up all over the internet.
She hovered over the chair, her back to the crowd, and slowly lowered herself back over it. Lower, lower, lower… and down with a satisfying bounce, her ass perfectly curved as she arched her back.
Don’t get mad, get even
Roy’s face- hell, his entire body- was white-hot as his jaw slacked, watching her turn over her shoulder to sing directly at him, adding a shameless wink as she continued to sing. She held his eye firmly for a moment, as if this were a private show, just for Roy, rather than a stadium filled with screaming fans who only grew louder with every erotic little movement.
So on the weekends She don't dress for friends Lately she's been dressing for revenge
She rose from her seated position, her movements slow and enticing, keeping Roy’s eyes glued firmly on her backside. He marveled at how truly sexy she was up there. Thinking back to the previous concerts, to the events where she was all dolled up, to the sleepovers where she wore pyjamas and sweatshirts, even to that night that he kept trying to push out of his mind, Roy had known all along that she was beautiful and attractive. But fuck. She was glowing up there, confident, moving flawlessly. She looked like any man’s fantasy come true.
Fuck it, he thought, shaking his head and grinning at her. She kind of looked like Roy’s fantasy come true.





~
April giggled as she scrolled past another video. “Holy shit, look at this one.”
I rolled my eyes and attempted to take her phone. “Stop,” I whined as she pulled out of my reach. My cheeks warmed as I glimpsed yet another video of me dropping onto the chair during “Vigilante Shit”, a sight that was apparently trending online.
“You look great,” my assistant insisted as she perched her phone on my nightstand and out of my reach. “Believe me.” She offered me a wicked smirk. “Roy Kent seemed to think so too.”
My face was warm as I laid back on my bed. “Oh hush,” I scolded, trying to hide a growing smile.
Her smirk widened. “Jamie said Roy looked absolutely wrecked when he saw you up there doing that chair dance,” she went on, as though I hadn’t just shushed her. “He barely blinked the entire song, just kept watching you do that little chair dance.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. Dating Jamie Tartt had made April bold, I realized. She had never teased me this much during my other relationships. But for some reason, here she was, sitting in my hotel room after a night out with the Greyhounds following the show, giggling like a schoolgirl over my fake boyfriend.
She went on. “And you’ve seen the videos of him during the concert, right?” She fanned herself. “I think Mister Roy Kent might have lost his damn mind watching you, babe.”
“Sure,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Kent, interested in me. That’s a laugh.”
April studied me carefully for a moment, as if she was considering her next words. “What if he was? Interested in you, I mean.”
The words caught in my throat. Sure, I’d spent months with this man on my arm, kissing and fawning over him for the world to see. And for a few weeks now I’d been singing songs about him, teasing an album about him. But I had yet to tell a single living soul how I felt about him. How could I? Nearly everyone in my life thought we were in a serious relationship, clearly blissful and in love. The only people who knew the truth about me and Roy were Lanie, April, and Keeley Jones. Lanie was out of the question; she’d kill me for complicating the plan and mumble something about shitting where I ate. And Keeley Jones? The thought of telling Roy’s gorgeous model girlfriend- the one who got away- that I had feelings for Roy made me feel like my head was going to fall off.
So that only left April.
I swallowed hard and turned my gaze to closed curtains, as though the greige material was the most interesting thing in the world rather than April’s implications. “If Roy Kent was interested in me,” I repeated slowly, knowing that I’d never get this cat back into its bag, “it would not be the worst thing in the world.”
April shot up faster than the fireworks my brothers set off in the streets after the Dodgers won the World Series. “Excuse me?” she squeaked, eyes wide. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” I scoffed, sitting up. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
“Does that mean…?” She quirked an eyebrow at me expectantly.
For a moment, the two of us simply stared at each other, neither willing to break the silence. We’d engaged in countless staring contests just like this over the years, with victories shared pretty evenly between us. But this time, I was determined to take the win, desperate to prolong the way I kept my feelings for Roy to myself.
Sure enough, the corner of April’s mouth finally ticked upwards. “You finally gave in, huh? I wondered how long it would take.”
My friend’s smile was impossible to resist. “Guess I did,” I chuckled, running my fingers through my unruly hair.
Before I could get in another word, April grabbed me and pulled me in close for a hug. “I knew it!” she gushed, laughter in her voice. “I knew from that first match I went to with you that this would happen.” She let me go, choosing to simply take my hands in hers, reminding me of childhood sleepovers with friends, chattering about crushes and chisme. “When did it happen?” she demanded. “How’d you realize you liked him?”
Unable to help myself, I shifted on the mattress, straightening my shoulders and thinking back. “When I met his niece,” I finally murmured, feeling my entire body soften as I remembered that night. “He was so soft and gentle with her.” I sighed dreamily. “And… and we ended up sharing his bed that night- Not like that!” I quickly added when I saw her eyes light up wickedly. “But I did wake up with his arms around me,” I admitted. “And I realized… I think I could love him.”
“Love?” April’s smile widened. “All of those songs were for him, weren’t they?” she whispered, eyes sparkling with suspicion and joy.
“Maybe,” I murmured with an eyeroll. It was pointless trying to play coy now- but it was kind of fun. “The man is kind of… inspiring.”
April shook her head. “I’ll bet,” she purred, waggling her eyebrows. She sobered a little, giving my hands a squeeze. “And Roy? How does he feel?”
My smile faltered. “I… I don’t know,” I admitted. “We, um, nearly had something happen in L.A., after the quince. But then he just kind of left.” I blinked rapidly, trying not to dwell on that night. “And then we came home, and after a while we went back to normal. Which is good.” I cleared my throat. “We’re friends. And that’s good.”
“But you don’t want to be friends, do you?”
I shook my head. “It’s good enough for me,” I assured her. “I… I’d rather have Roy as my friend than not at all.”
April studied me for a moment, her head cocked thoughtfully. “But what if…” She pursed her lips. “What if he does feel the same way?” As I opened my mouth to refute her, she continued. “I mean, Jamie talks about Roy. A lot actually. It’s a bit concerning sometimes.” She let out a fond chuckle and went on, “And he cannot stop saying how in love Roy is. How he’s always got your music playing, how Jamie’s seen him just casually scrolling through Tweets and TikToks about the two of you, how he lights up when you’re around. How he hasn’t seen Roy like this in a long time.”
My voice came out so small I hardly recognized it, especially after singing in front of a sold-out stadium. “Should I tell him?”
“That’s up to you,” April said slowly. Leave it to April to choose now to stop trying to tell me what to do. “But,” she added, “I think either way, you can’t lose Roy Kent.” She squeezed my hand. “I think you’ve got that man for life.”
~
Some small part of Roy was almost dreading the second Paris show. Not that he was tired of seeing it; on the contrary, the show only seemed to get better with each performance. He found he not only had, well, fun, but he had a sense of pride watching her grow in confidence each night, looking more and more at home on that stage and the joy that radiated from that pretty face when she saw her fans’ passionate reactions to the new work she premiered. No, Roy could watch this show every damn night and never get bored.
What had Roy’s palms feeling clammy was knowing he’d be seeing that dance again. During the late dinner the Greyhounds had shared after the show, the guys had teased Roy nonstop, eliciting soft chuckles and eyerolls from him and the popstar who snuggled close to him at the table. Roy’s chest tightened with every joke about that little bodysuit, every wink shot their way, making his mind wander back to her bedroom in Los Angeles, to her arms around him and her mouth desperately on his, to all those things he was still trying to shove into a small corner of his brain and forget about.
But fucking hell she made it impossible, grinding on that chair again, putting on a damn burlesque show that made his skin go hot. At least this time he didn’t have to watch it in front of his entire team; no, tonight his only company was Keeley, who’d insisted on flying out after seeing all the clips of “Vigilante Shit” that Jamie kept sending her the night before.
Keeley’d said it was because she needed to see the sultry performance in person, something every single Greyhound understood. But, if the blonde was being honest, she wanted to see Roy. She’d had her suspicions for a while now, but she needed to see up close and in person how her ex reacted to seeing that gorgeous woman moving around in ways that made even Keeley’s mouth go dry.
And oh, Roy did not disappoint either. Keeley caught the way his jaw slacked and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he watched her plop onto that chair. If nothing else, Keeley mused with a smirk, her friend was clearly attracted to the beautiful singer. That much was obvious.
Roy managed to get his heart rate back down in time for the surprise song. He couldn’t help smiling as he watched her strum her guitar, reminding him of those afternoons by the lake, of that late morning in her backyard, moments he realized he held close to his heart.
Moments that might be more special to him than he’d even let himself believe.
“I want to share a really important song with you,” she told the already screaming audience. “You know, when you meet someone, it’s the scariest and most exciting thing in the world. You’re so thrilled to find someone so amazing and wonderful, but there’s that gnawing feeling of… ‘they’ll never like me back’. And living in that limbo is the most wonderfully hellish thing.” She laughed and shook her head. “And everything just feels so… Delicate.”
Roy’s ears were bombarded with screams as the crowd recognized the title, one of the songs from the new album. He allowed himself to add his own clapping and shouts, thrilled to get to hear yet another song that she’d kept hidden from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Keeley, her mouth wide with glee and her phone ready to record; but, not for the first time, he ignored the sight of his ex-girlfriend in favor of focusing his attentions on the popstar who began playing the new tune.
This ain't for the best My reputation's never been worse, so You must like me for me We can't make Any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink
She swayed to the music she played, looking bashful in front of the thousands of people screaming and cheering for her. Her voice was tender and vulnerable, as sweet as Roy remembered it being those afternoons at the lake, in their own little world of laughter and music. Some of the happiest afternoons of his life, he realized. Just the two of them, the cat, and her pretty voice.
Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate Is it cool that I said all that? Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate
Roy stopped fighting his usual statuesque instincts and let his body rock back and forth to the music, the way he had in her kitchen while cookies baked in the oven and a Selena song filled the house and her fingers intertwined with his.
Another memory locked in his heart.
Third floor on the West Side, me and you Handsome, you're a mansion with a view Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Long night with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share
Something in her voice changed, carrying an almost desperation, something strangled, something that made the muscles Roy’s throat freeze up, making it impossible for him to swallow all the feelings that refused to stay squashed anymore. All he could think of was the image of her in her bed, the smell of alcohol floating in the space between their mouths, the shots he’d taken all night whispering doubts in his ear, telling him that the desire in her eyes was drunkenness and months of pretending, nothing more.
But when her eyes found his in the crowded stadium, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, those doubts were wrong. Because she was singing, right at him, eyes sparkling with something Roy knew his held, too.
Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep Are you ever dreaming of me? Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine all the damn time
Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck. Roy’s heart pounded in his chest so hard he pondered if he should call a medic.
What the fuck was he doing? This woman- this beautiful, talented, intelligent, fun, sexy as all hell woman- was serenading him in front of thousands of people. The past few months with her had been some of the best he’d ever had- months of laughter and joy and affection.
He loved her. Fucking hell, he loved her. Of course he did. He’d been in love with her for a while now, if he was being honest. How could he not be?
Isn’t it delicate?
Yeah, he realized as he added his clapping to the cheering crowd. It was delicate. Really fucking delicate. He couldn’t just dive in; he needed to get this off his chest and talk to someone, get some advice.
“Keeley,” he huffed in the model’s ear. “After the show, can we talk?”


~
See you at dinner!
I reread the text from Roy and fought the silly grin that grew at the sight of his contact name on my phone. After the show he’d suggested we grab some dinner, saying I should take my time getting ready because he needed to talk to Keeley first. (“Some stupid PR shit,” he’d grumbled with light eyeroll.)
A late-night dinner in some cozy Parisian restaurant after performing one of the most vulnerable songs I’d ever written? Seemed like just romantic enough to be the perfect opportunity to tell Roy how I felt about him.
I took a deep breath as I entered the restaurant, thankful that neither of our publicists had insisted on tipping off our location to photographers. No one paid any mind to me and my racing heart as I scanned the tables looking for-
Roy sat with his back to me, with Keeley perched on the chair next to him. Neither seemed to notice me, too engrossed in whatever somber conversation they were in the middle of.
I pondered what was the least obvious way to get Keeley to leave so I could be alone with Roy. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her, she’d actually grown on me quite a bit, but I couldn't handle having to fake my way through a casual dinner. Not when I had my feelings for Roy weighing in my chest.
“Keeley,” Roy was saying as I got closer, “I just don’t know how to fucking do this anymore.” His growling sigh had me stopping in my tracks. “All this fucking pretending, I… fuck.”
The model patted Roy’s arm sympathetically. “You’ve gotta tell her,” she said softly. “You really have to just tell her.”
Roy shook his head. “Fuck am I supposed to say?” he hissed. “I mean, I only did this in the first place because I was trying to win you back, Keels. Because I never fucking got over you.”
My hands began to shake as I took a step backwards, turned, and briskly walked out of the restaurant. I tried to get my breathing under control as I flagged down a taxi and climbed in, mumbling the address for my hotel.
I was trying to win you back. I never got over you.
Stupid, stupid me.
I stumbled into my hotel room, finally allowing the tears to fall as I slammed the door behind me. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was all too familiar as I flopped onto the bed, not caring about the mascara stains I’d leave behind on the pillowcase.
I was trying to win you back. I never got over you.
How dumb could I be? I really thought Roy felt something more than friendship for me. Really? After that night in L.A., how could I be so damn foolish? A few smiles, a couple of compliments, some tipsy encouragement from April, and I really tricked myself into believing that Roy could love me too.
As I turned onto my back and let the silent tears stream down my cheeks and onto the pillow, I made a decision.
Friends with Roy Kent was no longer enough.
~
“You’ve gotta tell her,” Keeley had told him. “You really have to just tell her.”
“Fuck am I supposed to say?” he had argued. “I mean, I only did this in the first place because I was trying to win you back, Keels. Because I never fucking got over you.”
After a moment, Keeley gave a twinkling little giggle. “But you did,” she pointed out. “Just like I knew you would.”
She admitted it: this had been her plan all along. She knew from the moment she met the pop star that she was something special, and that she and Roy could be something special together. All Keleey had to do was give a few little pushes- sleepovers, a vacation, an album full of love songs- and watch the obvious attraction take its course.
As Keeley explained the plan she’d deviously masterminded, Roy glimpsed his phone; a text, saying the popstar was really tired after her show and would be staying in.
“Go get her,” Keeley had laughed, seeing Roy’s disappointed face. “Hurry up now, or I’ll steal her from you.” She fanned herself playfully. “I mean, after that chair dance, Roy-o…”
So now, Roy strode down the hotel hallway, clutching the sunflowers he’d nicked from a closed flower stand on the corner; he figured the fistful of euros he’d left behind would more than cover his theft. Maybe it was a little cheesy, bringing sunflowers for the woman he called Sunshine, but to hell with it. He’d listened to enough of her music to know she liked cheesy and romantic and all the other silly things Roy suddenly wanted to be.
It felt like an eternity before he was finally in front of her door. Scrounging up every ounce of bravery he had, Roy knocked, two quick, hard raps, praying she was still awake and that he wouldn’t have to pound on her door like a werido-
The door opened quickly, revealing the popstar, in those familiar cozy pyjamas Roy found so damn endearing. His entire body softened at the sight of her, his excitement fizzling slightly when he caught sight of the streaks running down her cheeks. But dammit, he was a man on a mission and he just needed to fucking say it.
“Sunshine,” he breathed, his entire body trembling. “Listen, I-”
“Go away, Kent.” Her tiny, sharp voice stabbed at Roy’s heart.
His face fell, but he took a miniscule step towards her. “No, see, I’ve gotta tell you-”
“Just leave,” she said harshly. “Like, back to London.” She shifted, leaning in the doorway, her body blocking Roy from entering the room. Her eyes refused to meet his. “We’re done with this. We did our jobs, I got the press off my back about Everett, so congratulations. We can be done with this whole charade. So just… go home.”
Roy couldn’t believe a single thing she was saying. “But Lanie and- and Keeley-”
Something in her face darkened. “Yeah, I think Keeley will be just fine,” she all but spat. “So, why don’t you go so ask her to book you a seat next to her on the next flight out to London, hmm?”
What the fuck?
“We have that preseason match coming up,” he tried again, growing more desperate with each word out of her mouth. “You’re still coming, right? Even just as my friend- we’re friends, right, sunshine? Real friends?”
The dry laugh that came out of her mouth lodged a pit in Roy’s already turning stomach. “Friends?” she repeated. “Roy Kent, let’s be fucking honest about one thing, nothing about any of this has ever been real.” She shook her head, gripping the door so tight her knuckles turned white. “I fucking heard you, man.”
Roy winced at her words, at her tone, at her stony expression, and could do nothing but blink at the furious popstar.
She went on, “I was going to that restaurant to tell you how I felt about you, maybe turn dinner into a real date.” He now realized the streaks on her face were from crying- because her tears were flowing like a pair of rivers. “And I got to hear you tell Keeley Jones all about how you only did all of this to win her back. Well, congrats. You’re officially single again, so go fucking get her.”
With a finality that stole the breath from Roy’s lungs, she shut the door, leaving him with a bouquet of sunflowers and maybe a broken heart.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene@emmaallisonann@mrdsturd@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@charkachow@mrdsturd@littlepinapple@sunfairyy@shadowzena43@uhmidkmuch@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme@alicedsworld@222333777@thegivenvoid @tortilla-maria1@treblebeth@maackiimoo@di-essere-amato@sortzz@i-am-mrsreckless @dreadfuljas @klaudosh @adri4na
#roy kent i'll write your name#roy kent iwyn#he's here he's there he's every fucking where#roy kent#roy kent x reader#roy kent fanfic#roy kent fic#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent imagine#ted lasso fanfiction
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Went to see Paul last night. I’m still on cloud 9 and can’t articulate anything so here are some disparate thoughts in no particular order:
The last hour is non stop banger after banger so if he tours again go to the bathroom BEFORE (missed Obla di 😭😭)
I like Come on to Me, sue me
The crowd took a bit to warm up which was very annoying like c’mon even Jet they were mid energy (it got way better by the end)
Oh Darling playing before he came on in the context of all the Get Back graphics on stage made me suddenly very tinhat about that song. Not that they did it on purpose ofc but my brain connecting the contextual images and the lyrics was… well. All interpretation of course!
Not a big response to I’ve just seen a Face or Drive my Car! Incorrect crowd again.
I loved In Spite of All the Danger. It got me weirdly emotional though with it being the first song they recorded and it having the line ‘I would do anything for you’ and the last words John said about Paul reportedly being ‘I would do anything for him’. Again not saying the initial song is about each other, it’s just one of the cosmos’ tragic little bookends
Have the lyrics to Let Me Roll It been officially changed from she to he? Because it was he again tonight. I wasn’t hearing for it but it shot out when he sang it.
The graphics could do with some work, Paul you’re a billionaire gets some people on that. Though Get Back just being everyone smiling in the studio was so cute.
Reminded once again that McBeardy was the hottest man alive.
Weird that Something got a montage of George but Maybe I’m Amazed and Here Today had no pictures of Linda or John. I can see why with Linda in terms of jt being awkward for Nancy but still.
Hey Jude lasts forever but it was magic and I wanted it to go on longer.
Paul forgot My Valentine and thought the guy reminding him was showing him a heart to say he loved him lmaoooo. He added it back in but it was wild to go from My Valentine to Maybe I’m Amazed. (Also why was Johnny Depp there?!!)
Paul was at his cuntiest and it was so funny. Just casually mocking peoples whooping and I love you’s (alpha bitch is at it again).
Whoever that guy in the audience was that had gone 135 times I salute you. Wish it could be me.
1985!!! My soul left my body my hands started seizing it was so SO good.
Jet is a banger, sorry to that crowd I had a great time.
The girls with the ‘I love you more than yesterday’ sign I know what you are and you are so funny for that.
Cried and beamed at Now and Then, it hits different in the arena (and a crowd favourite). It obviously means so much to Paul as well. Just emotional all round.
Live and Let die is incredible but Paul the fire!!! The banging!! I was so stressed the entire time, how can he still hear?
HELTER SKELTER
Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime for those who enjoy whimsy (Paul telling the kids they did great was cute as hell)
Ohhh that last medley really got to me (carry that weight…)
As a lot of others have said Paul’s voice is inconsistent. Sometimes it’s great and you can’t believe he’s doing it and other times he shows his age.
Which brings me to…
I’m not sure Here Today would stay on the set list if it wasn’t the song for John. In fact I’m certain it would be off it as it’s too hard for Paul to sing now. That being said, I think he may have broke down a bit. I wish I had videod it because either he did the ‘no, no, no’ that he’s done the past couple of performances or it was just a singular emotional no. I can’t remember which but It took me off guard and it didn’t seem intentional. :(( Edit: seen it again by people who have kindly posted it online and it was just him struggling with the notes, yay for video, not yay for Paul’s vocal chords).
I did laugh when Paul was talking about telling people you love them and the crowd just started screaming I LOVE YOU at him like it’s not what he means guys.
Overall 10/10 one of the best nights of my life.
#Got Back#if you can somehow get tickets for the last show tonight GO!!!!!#the beatles#Paul#paul McCartney
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Tapped Out
Daniel Garcia x fem!wrestler!reader
Warning: angst, swearing, references to sex… I’m really a saint
wc: 2.2k
Merry Christmas and happy hols🥰
Disclaimer: this has been written by someone with dyslexia. Please forgive all spelling and grammar mistakes.
His time spent on the sidelines halted the good thing you had going on. You, Y/N, were new to AEW but already an established star on the indies, picking up women’s belt after women’s belt (even a few men’s titles too) along the way. You were the big ‘I am’, a rising superstar – something Daniel knew all about.
It’s something you bonded over. Being young and living out your dreams on TV every Wednesday, you often found comfort in knowing that – whatever you went through – he could understand. And soon, all the big group hangouts at the club or whatnot turned into casual one-on-one meetups, which led to you guys texting all the time. Before you knew it, your ankles were pinned to your ears and he was digging in your gold until daybreak.
You let your best friend back home about the sneaky link-ups you had with the Buffalo kid but, at work, no one could ever know that Y/W/N was getting rammed over a roadie case in an abandoned corridor of whatever arena they were in that week. That the duo would soothe each other’s wounds once they got back to the hotel and would fuck cuddle up, savouring their solo time together. One time, it was pretty close.
In front of their friends, they act chummy. They might share the odd loving stare every now and again, but – for the most part – you acted like you usually would when hanging out with them: just friendly.
“Oh, Y/N! Don’t let me forget to hook you up with my boy, Nathan,” Isiah called out across the seating area while you waited for your turn to bowl. You can see Daniel’s head whip around to look at you with a dumbfounded look while Skye cheers for herself because she knocked over eight pins on her first go. The clanging in the background got louder and your heart pounded because you were scared Dare Bear would take it the wrong way.
Scrunching up your eyebrows, you asked Isiah, “Who?” before he reminded you that you asked him to recommend you an amazing tailor for a new gear idea.
“Oh, I thought you were setting me up or sum,” you mutter, melting back into your seat as embarrassment set in. Daniel also lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, giggling along with his best friend. Seems like all was restored – or so you thought.
“But seriously, Y/N. When are you gonna get yourself a foinnneee man?” Aminata jovially asked.
“We talking about Y/N?” Skye says, exchanging places with her boo Kyle before returning to her seat. “Girl, if you need help, just say that! Aminata and I have a 100% success rate.”
You scoff. “Who have you hooked up?” you remark.
“100% of nothing is still something!” She says before poking out her tongue. You and Aminata roll your eyes at her before her face drops into a sarcastic look of surprise, “What did I do?”
You catch a glimpse of Danny. He’s looking in your direction but it doesn’t seem like he sees you. He’s looking through you with this directionless glaze glossing over his eyes. You want to see if he’s OK but you don’t wanna blow you guys’ cover.
“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?” you ask quickly, instantly regretting the fact that you have given the duo to permission to pester you with date requests from mediocre men.
Aminata and Skye squeal as they promise that they “won’t let you down” and expect to be bridesmaids at your wedding.
You felt like you had eyes on you all night long, often catching Danny’s – now filled with fire. You couldn’t even comfortably celebrate the fact you won at bowling because, while everyone jested and congratulated you, all you could focus on was how Danny towered over you quietly.
Well, he told you how he felt that night. Like always, Daniel snuck into your room an hour after you settled in. You were already a little nervous because you wondered if he thought your eyes were wondering but – in actuality – he was your everything. He filled your heart with the warmth of 10 million suns. So when he just walked into your room without giving you a kiss, a “heyyyy,” or even a smile, your heart sank to the depths of the earth.
“What’s wrong with you?” you ask him, taken aback by his demeanour. He’s always so caring with you.
He sits on the edge of the bed and rubs hands together. “Are you dating other people?” He rebutted back, staring deep into your soul.
Your eyes widen as you quickly move across the room to caress his face. “No, I haven’t,” you replied.
“Why would you accept their offer to set you up on dates like that shit’s sweet?”
“I didn’t know what else to say to get out of the situation-”
“I don’t know. Maybe, you could say you got one?”
“Then they’d ask me who. I… I-"
"You what? Want to go hop on another man's dick? What the fuck is this even meant to be?" Danny cuts you off and aggressively stands up, making you take a step back.
You've never discussed exactly what the levels of this fling was. You were more than happy to keep it between the two of you, but this was more than two friends getting into a situationship. You guys discussed your life plans with one another, heard each other out and were one another's peace. All the stress and chaos from the outside world couldn't seep into you guys' bubble (well, it has), but you hadn’t explicitly told one another that you're strictly dating them.
You blink blankly at Daniel, hoping that if you stay quiet, the stress of the conversation would go away.
Daniel takes a step closer to search your face again. "Do you even want to date me?" he says, a little dejected this time. His breathing is heavy, fanning over your lips – driving you wild because all you want to do is kiss him.
"Of course I do," you whisper, scared that your voice will forsake you.
"Then what are we doing here?" Danny asked again, looking away from you. Your fingers touch his chin again, guiding his face to look at yours.
"I really, really like you, Danny," you tell him. "Now, if you don’t want anything serious, I get it like you're some hot wrestling star travelling the world. You can have any girl you want, so why pick lil ol' me? Don't feel like I'm holding you-"
Daniel smashed his lips on yours for a sloppy make-out session, letting his hands cruising all over your curves. You expel all the air from your lungs in the kiss and rip yourself away from those moreish swollen lips of his.
“Why did you do that?” Daniel shrugs his shoulders and drags you over to the bed, sitting down and placing you on his lap.
“I really, really, really like you too, Y/N,” he admits before turning his attention to an area he knows you love him nibbling at; your neck. He peppered kisses down it, earning a breathy whimper from you.
“Would any of those dates know your body like I do?” He whispered in your ear. “Any of them gonna make you feel how I make you feel?”
You bite your lip and vigorously shake your head. He chuckled into your ear, sending chills down your spine.
However, in this erotic moment, a surge of confidence overtook you. “Can I get a reminder for how good you make me feel?” you tease, cheekiness dripping of your tone.
Let’s say there was no more confusion between the two of you about where you stood with one another.
You guys continued to text and socialise in your friendship group like normal until Daniel had that blood-thirsty All Out match with MJF.
You wanted to give him your love in person before his match, knowing that the New Yorkers planned something brutal for the fans. But you were stuck on a medical bench, getting checked after being knocked out by Mercedes Moné and Kamille while pursuing the former’s TBS and NJPW Strong championships. You shot Daniel a text, hoping it’d be enough but that was the last time you communicated with him.
The doctor said you had no signs of a concussion and were good to go, so you left the room with the mission to find your man (if you can call him that yet). You didn’t have to look far as he was being rushed inside of the medical room next to you.
You tried to ask what was wrong and get some sort of explanation for someone but no one would talk to you. That’s the only downfall of keeping your relationship on the low.
You pace around the halls, trying to expend all the nervous energy you had because all you wanted to know is if Danny was OK. It didn’t seem like you’d get that answer until you saw Isiah walking down the hall with two duffels in hand. You waved him down quickly.
“What happened to Daniel?” you asked him with a scared look on your face, thinking MJF knocked him out again.
“He’s all good. Don’t worry, sis!” The Brooklynite reassures you. “He’s tired so I think he’s just gonna go back to the hotel and get some rest.”
You nod your head and tell Isiah to send him your love before running back to your locker room and freshening up. When you finally make it back to the hotel, you check to see if Daniel read any of your texts – to which, he didn’t. Strange.
You checked his location (you had each others to make it easier to find one another quicker) and saw that he was at the hotel so why is he not reading your messages? You sent a last text sharing your floor and room number and stayed awake, hoping for a text back.
Your alarm abruptly woke you up. Awkwardly hanging off of the edge of the bed, you found yourself still in your loungewear with your glasses on and your phone in your hand showing that he never read your message.
Disappointed, you dragged yourself around your room to pack and do what you needed to do to catch your plane back home. You tried to call Daniel to tell him you got home safely like you always did, but his phone was off. Stranger.
You spent weeks waiting by the phone, wondering why your best friend and confidant wasn’t talking to you like you were used to. You told each other everything down to the smallest details and there’s been so much you’re holding in because you need to tell Danny first. So, this period of silence is secretly cut you up.
“Oh, girl, get over that bum now!” Your childhood friend Shania told you during your weekly catchup over some red wine and assorted pastries. “Doesn’t he know his 30 minutes was up a long time ago?”
You both sniggered, reminiscing on the funny Tiffany Polard meme.
“I know, but he was my friend first. I just want to know that he’s alright.”
And he was alright, for sure. Rolling his suitcase through the corridor with his shades on with his typical bounce, he looked just as great as he did before. For months, you’ve been trying to convince yourself that he’s a dick for just airing you like that – but seeing him now flooded your mind with all the same feelings as before.
The leather vest was a nice touch, too. Oh, how you’d love to stroke it, maybe even scrap your acrylic nails down it while you ride him like a bronco bull, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
You froze in place when your eyes landed on him and, when he noticed you, you could see his jawline tighten – something he does when he’s nervous and avoidant.
“Shit,” you scream internally, quickly looking away in hopes that he would just walk right past you… and he did.
Why didn't he want to talk to you? Considering all you shared with one another and how vulnerable you allowed yourself to be, how did he find the audacity to just drop you like he did your panties that one night? Focus! He cannot get away with this.
You feel the rage you've had for months bubble up again and your face contorted into one of fury. "It's like that?" you babble to yourself before marching back to your locker room.
You’ll just have to show him what he’s been missing, then.
#aew#wrestling#all elite wrestling#aew x reader#pro wrestling#daniel garcia#daniel garcia x reader#wrestler x reader#Daniel Garcia one shot#Daniel Garcia fan fiction#wrestling fan fiction#black fanfic writer
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Hi ! I have a bit of an idea for a Willy Fic. He uses the metro a lot yeah? how about a fic where he took a round trip in the metro after a game cause it was still traffic out there and didn't want to deal with it by driving out at once. He bumps into the OC (friend) who worked overtime and is taking the train home (It's like 10PM ik it's not rush hour but humor me), she worked early but had to work late and they bump into each other and get pushed to a corner and he shields her from getting hit
Hello there 🤗 Oh, that's such a sweet idea, darling 🤍
So, I attempted to put something together, and I do apologise if it's not quite what you had in mind 💕 However, it seems my mind decided to add a touch of relationship complications to the mix 🙈 Anyway, I hope you like it 🤍
Tropes and warnings; friends to lovers; William kissing reader, though she's in a relationship; no warnings; is it cheating if it's just a quick kiss?
Word count; 2.9K
Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie
➼。゚
Fall so Hard I William Nylander

William Nylander had never imagined he could fall so deeply. He was a typical bachelor in his late twenties, focusing on his exceptional hockey career and enjoying the company of his wonderful family and friends. His days were simply filled with intense training sessions, thrilling games, and the camaraderie of his teammates. Evenings were often spent celebrating victories or relaxing wither at home or his favourite spots around the city. Life was good, and he had no complaints.
However, when you entered his life, everything seemed to change. The first time he met you, it felt like the world shifted, as your smile was infectious, and your laughter was a melody he wanted to hear again and again. He felt butterflies in his stomach that he had never experienced before, and a nervous excitement that made him feel like a teenager once more.
And it wasn't just your appearance and smile that captivated him. It was your devoted kindness, intelligence, and the way you listened with genuine interest. He admired your commitment to your work and how gracefully you balanced your professional and personal lives while also putting other’s needs before your own. You simply had a knack for making everyone around you feel special, and there was no way he could grow immune to your charm.
In fact, he found himself thinking about you constantly. During practice, he would wonder what you were up to, and in the middle of a game, a fleeting thought of you would bring a smile to his face, imagining that you might be watching him. And soon, his teammates noticed his distracted state and teased him about it, but he didn't mind. Thinking of you was simply a delightful distraction that filled him with warmth and longing.
William eagerly looked forward to any chance to see you. He treasured every moment spent together, no matter how brief, and each encounter left him yearning for more, craving your company in a way that was both exhilarating and unnerving. The hardest part though, was that he knew he was falling for you, and it thrilled him as much as it scared him.
_
The Toronto skyline glowed against the night sky as William emerged from Scotiabank Arena. The Leafs had just secured a hard-fought victory, and the thrill of the win still pulsed through his veins as he made his way out of the arena and towards the metro station. Normally, he would drive home, but tonight was different. The streets were jammed, a chaotic mix of construction diversions and a bustling Friday night crowd. So instead, he opted for a more relaxing journey and decided to take the metro for a round trip.
Arriving at the metro station, William was greeted by the familiar hum of trains and the murmur of passengers. Despite the late hour past 10 PM, Union Station buzzed with activity, though most of the game's crowd had dispersed, leaving a steady flow of commuters. William had his ticket ready and boarded the first train heading towards his stop, seeking a quiet ride with headphones in to unwind after the evening's excitement.
Meanwhile, further down the line, you were wrapping up an unexpectedly long day at work. An early start and late finish had left you drained, yearning for the comfort of home. And opting for the metro as the quickest route, you hurried to catch the next train, already imagining the peace that awaited you.
The train was more crowded than usual for that hour. And manoeuvrings through the doors and down the aisle, clutching your bag tightly, you found yourself pushed towards the back by larger figures as the doors closed, and the train moved forward. Surrounded by strangers, you searched for a stable spot where you could stand without being jostled too much, while the rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks provided a calming backdrop amidst the mild chaos inside the carriage.
Yet, amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught your eye. William Nylander, the star player for the Leafs, stood a few feet away, looking remarkably at ease and almost inconspicuous in casual attire. He must have changed from his game day suit after the match, you thought. His presence was unexpected, and for a moment, the weariness of your day faded, replaced by a flutter of excitement. You wondered if he had noticed you, if he remembered you from your previous encounters.
Meanwhile, William's thoughts wandered as the train swayed gently. The rhythm of the metro was a welcome change from the raucous cheers at the arena coupled with the music in his ears. His gaze drifted over the passengers and then suddenly settled on you. His heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned. There you were, as graceful and composed as ever, despite the fatigue etched on your face. The serendipity of the moment felt almost surreal, and he felt intrigued to walk over at start up a conversation with you. So, that’s what he did.
_
You and William had become friends through your boyfriend, who introduced you almost a year ago at a casual gathering filled with laughter, good food, and shared stories. The bond between your boyfriend and William, forged over their mutual love for hockey and years of shared experiences, was evident from the start. And when you met William, there was an immediate spark. Conversations flowed effortlessly, laughter came easily, and you often found yourselves drawn to each other in group settings, discussing everything from favourite movies to deeper philosophical topics.
It was clear to friends that you and William had a special connection, often teasingly acknowledged due to your undeniable chemistry. However, you never acted on this mutual attraction out of respect for your committed relationship with your boyfriend. And William, too, naturally valued his friendship with your boyfriend and respected the boundaries you both maintained.
However, what William didn't know about were the struggles brewing in your relationship. Over the past few months, tensions between you and your boyfriend had escalated, where minor disagreements grew into heated arguments, and a growing emotional distance left you feeling increasingly isolated and unappreciated. Work became a refuge from the turmoil at home, the long hours serving as a distraction from the strain in your personal life.
Despite these challenges, you kept up appearances, not wanting to burden anyone with your relationship issues, especially not William. He remained unaware of the depth of your unhappiness, though he occasionally sensed something was amiss. His concern for you was genuine, yet he respected your privacy and never probed into your personal struggles.
_
Yet you hadn’t expected to meet William on the tube. His handsome face made you smile like always, and though you were tired, you greeted him with all the energy you could muster.
"Hey, it's you," he said with a smile, his blue eyes lighting up with recognition.
"Will? What are you doing here?" you asked, equally surprised and relieved to see a friendly face.
"Just trying to avoid the traffic," he laughed. "How about you?"
"Just on my way home from work," you replied, grateful for the surprising company.
William was excited to see you, and your conversation flowed effortlessly as always. And while the train's movement pushed you both into a corner, William manoeuvred himself so that he was standing between you and the crowd, his size shielding you from the constant jostling. His presence was nothing but comforting, a protective barrier against the bustling passengers, as the two of you chatted.
"You must be tired," he observed, noticing the fatigue etched on your face.
"Long day," you admitted. "Started early, had to work late. You?"
"Just finished a game. Figured the metro was a better option than sitting in traffic."
The moment between you felt soft and tender as you shared smiles. However, all of a sudden, the tube hit the emergency brakes, causing you to fall further into the corner, with William almost colliding with you. But fortunately, he remained steadfast and instinctively protected you from anyone else that might have hit you.
You felt a shock coursing through you, yet William’s body shielding you made you feel safe and secure in the sudden motion. And while you were catching your breath, you slowly realised that your faces had come rather close to each other, closer than they’d ever been as you were pressed up against the corner, William’s arms on either side of you. Both of you felt the thrill within that had you gasp for air, and although you could easily quickly move apart, something between you kept you still, allowing you to share the air between you as you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull you felt towards each other.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The noise of the train and the bustle of the passengers faded into the background as you stood there, caught in the intensity of the moment. William's breath was warm on your skin, and you could see the sincerity and concern in his eyes as the connection between you, always present, now felt electric and impossible to ignore.
"Are you okay?" he then asked softly, his voice barely audible above the din.
"Yeah, yeah… I'm okay," you whispered, your heart racing.
But then, as the announcement over the speaker broke the spell, signalling a false alarm, you and William quickly stood up straight and shifted back to casual conversation about mundane topics like the weather and tonight’s hockey game.
You both tried to act nonchalant, brushing off any lingering hints of intimacy that had briefly surfaced. However, as the ride continued, your eyes kept meeting in shared glances that spoke volumes beyond words. The attraction between you was palpable, simmering just beneath the surface, as the tube's gentle sway seemed to mirror the sway of emotions between you, hesitant yet undeniable.
Approaching your stop, you felt a pang of disappointment, as a small part of you didn't want the evening to end this soon, even though you knew it was the right thing to do. "This is my stop," you said reluctantly, preparing to leave.
William nodded; his eyes warm with understanding yet tinged with a hint of regret. "I'll walk you out. Make sure you get home safe."
You hesitated, about to object, but William’s gentle insistence left no room for argument. It was late, and his concern for your safety was evident.
“It wasn’t a request,” he chuckled softly, his tone reassuring yet firm.
Stepping off the metro together, you both welcomed the cool night air that offered a stark contrast to the stuffy metro. William walked beside you, his presence comforting yet charged with an unspoken tension. And though you knew the attraction you felt was complicated and possibly wrong, the flutter of butterflies in your stomach whispered of a happiness you hadn't felt in a long time.
The streets close to your home were quiet, the city winding down for the night as you walked side by side. Occasionally, your hands brushed against each other, the contact almost innocent yet laden with unspoken desire, as each touch felt like playing with fire, tempting yet dangerous.
Despite the late hour and the growing distance from the metro station, neither of you rushed the walk. Conversation flowed easily again, punctuated by comfortable silences that spoke volumes. There was simply a magnetic pull between you, drawing you closer with each step.
As you reached your building, you turned to William with a grateful smile. "Thanks for tonight, Will. It was really nice catching up, and… thanks for the… you know, for having me in the metro."
"Anytime," he simply replied, his smile genuine. "Just promise me you’ll get some rest. You deserve it." You then said your goodbyes, preparing to step inside, when unexpectedly, William grabbed your hand and leaned in, planting a quick kiss on your lips.
Shocked and uncertain how to react, you froze for a moment as his lips lingered briefly against yours. And when you finally pulled away, your mind raced with a mix of emotions—confusion, guilt, and a hint of exhilaration.
Once inside your flat, you struggled to compose yourself. You replayed the moment in your mind, questioning its significance and what it meant for your relationship with your boyfriend. A part of you felt nothing but pure happiness, as if a deep desire, build over time, had finally had the chance to be set free. Yet, part of you wanted to forget it ever happened, to bury the conflicting feelings that had surfaced. So, you made a conscious effort not to let any hint of what transpired show in your interactions with your boyfriend, though every fleeting thought of William sent a rush through you.
Meanwhile, William couldn’t shake the whirlwind of emotions that had been stirred by that brief kiss. Being close to you, even for that fleeting moment, awakened feelings he had buried deep. You were incredible—kind, intelligent, and undeniably beautiful- and he simply couldn’t deny the crush he had developed on you any longer, despite knowing that pursuing it was complicated and potentially damaging.
_
As your phone lit up the following morning, William had sent you a heartfelt message, explaining that he was sorry if he’d overstepped any boundaries with the kiss, and he understood if you needed some time away from him. He’d added that he didn’t wish to complicate your relationship any further, yet he couldn’t ignore the feelings he held for you either. The kiss had made him rethink your friendship, and he wasn’t sure how much he could be around you, knowing he felt what he felt and that he didn’t have a chance with you.
However, as the message was opened and read, it wasn’t by you. Instead, your boyfriend, simply out of curiosity, with no suspicions of your behaviour, read the heartfelt declaration William had poured out from the bottom of his heart.
"What's this about?" he then asked, holding up your phone with William's message displayed.
You hesitated, your mind racing for an explanation that wouldn’t betray the complexity of your feelings. "It's... nothing. We ran into each other on the tube and he’s just apologising for a moment that got awkward."
“But he mentioned a kiss—what’s that about, y/n?”
He gave you a moment to respond, his expression a mix of hurt and confusion.
“It was a mistake,” you finally admitted, feeling the weight of guilt settle in your chest.
He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "I know things have been tough lately, but kissing one of my good friends?"
“It wasn’t planned, it just happened,” you tried to explain, your voice trembling.
“Maybe we should have a serious talk about where we stand,” he suggested with a heavy tone.
You nodded, realising that this was a conversation you both had been avoiding for too long. "Yeah, maybe we should."
_
You wanted to text William straight away the following day after your boyfriend had packed his bags and gone to a friend’s house. Yet, you decided to wait a few weeks, giving everything some time to process.
However, fate had other plans. And just a few days later, you unexpectedly ran into William at a local coffee shop near your workplace. It was a pleasant surprise but also a bit awkward, knowing it was quite a distance from the usual places you both frequented.
Yet you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his handsome face turn towards you, his eyes lighting up with recognition and a hint of surprise.
“Hey,” his soft voice spoke, a gentle smile curving his perfect lips.
“Hey,” you replied softly, barely above a whisper, feeling a rush of emotions as you stood face to face again.
“How have you been? I mean… I heard about you and… you know.”
You chuckled softly, unable to resist teasing him a little. “Will, are you seriously just asking me how I’ve been?”
William rubbed the back of his neck, his laughter mixing with a touch of embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess so… I mean, I don’t want to pry or anything.”
You appreciated his concern and decided to lighten the mood by playfully nudging him. “It’s okay, I’m doing alright. It’s been a rollercoaster, but I’m managing.”
“That’s- that’s good… I mean-“
In a moment that felt both inevitable and unexpected, you suddenly leaned in and kissed him softly. It was a tender gesture, filled with the unspoken emotions that had been building since that intense moment on the metro. And William responded in kind, his hand gently finding your jaw, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.
The coffee shop buzzed around you, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the warmth of your shared moment. And when you finally pulled apart, your eyes met in a tender gaze, both of you softly gasping for air.
“I’m sorry… I just really wanted to do that,” you admitted, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and relief.
William couldn’t suppress the smile on his lips, happiness radiating through him as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time more confidently. The magnetic pull between you was undeniable, and in that moment, amidst the sounds of coffee beans grinding and mugs clinking, you both surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had drawn you together.
#my asks#wn88 imagine#william nylander imagine#william nylander x reader#toronto maple leafs imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine
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teenage dream.



content warning: ANGST billy dunne/the six x fem “traitor” pop-star reader
The lights were dimmed. You could hear the excited cheers come from the crowd.
You were being touched up by your hair and makeup team, they made sure that not a single hair was out of place. When they were done, you adjusted your ear piece, smoothed out your skirt, and nervously played with your hands as you waited for your cue. You were having a good show, but for some reason, you felt….nervous. You always felt a little nervous performing, but tonight you felt it even more.
Something felt different. You felt like something— or someone was in the crowd for you, waiting, watching.
You shook your head, brushing the feeling aside.
“You’re on” you hear a stagehand say.
Smoothing out your skirt one last time, you step out onto the stage. A soft purple glow fills the arena as you walked out. You smile and wave to the crowd, blowing a few kisses out as you sit at your piano.
“Are we having fun yet?” you say into the microphone. You’re met with a loud roar of cheers and applause which makes you smile. “Good…good” you say, idly playing a few notes on the piano.
“So…this next song, I wrote with my younger self in mind…” you say softly into the microphone, “Now she…was full of hope and energy…but she was also…had insecurities, she was afraid she wasn’t good enough and that she was just good for her age. She was afraid to grow up, because she thought that nobody would want her around anymore.”
You pause for a moment, “For a long time, she couldn’t picture a future. But…she’s come a long way from then. I think she’d be proud of how far we’ve come.” you say, smiling as the crowd cheers. “So to anyone who’s afraid…this is for you.”
As you started playing, the empty screen behind you flickered to life, pulling the audience’s attention as a series of home videos started playing.
You fought back tears as you sang. Memories of the past flooded your mind.
"Will I spend all the rest of my years wishing I could go back?"
Messing around with Warren and Graham during rehearsals in the garage.
Talking with Karen about life during late night studio sessions.
Eddie teaching you how to play the bass.
And Billy....
Having every first with him. Your first crush, your date, your first kiss. All with the boy that you grew up next door neighbors with, with the boy that introduced you to music, with the boy that you've liked since you were 12.
"Got your whole life ahead of you, you're only 19...But I fear that they already got all the best parts of me... And I'm sorry that I couldn't always be your teenage dream.."
You wondered what they were doing right now. You wondered if they were messing around in the studio. You wondered if they were having pizza and beers. "Of course they are," you thought, it was a Friday night afterall, that was their time to unwind.
You wondered if Karen and Graham were still denying their feelings for eachother. You wondered if Warren still told those ridiculous stories that made everyone laugh so hard they cried, You wondered if Eddie still tried to hide the fact that he loves the chaos of the band.
You wondered if Billy was taking care of himself.
You wondered if they wondered about you.
"They all say that it gets better, it gets better the more you grow. Yeah, they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if I don't? Oh, they all say that it gets better, it gets better the more you grow"
Unbeknownst to you, the band wasn’t in the studio tonight. They weren't eating pizza and drinking beers.
They were here.
Sitting quietly near the back of the arena, watching as you poured your heart out on stage.
Karen had bought the tickets last minute. When she told the band, they weren't keen on going, but they changed their minds fairly quickly.
None of them wanted to admit that they wanted to desperately see you perform on stage again. Even if it wasn't with them.
Their eyes were glued to the stage and the screen. Watching as old clips from your old camcorder played.
"I can't believe she has all these old tapes.." Karen says in a quiet tone.
"I didn't even know she filmed this much stuff" Graham murmurs.
"I can...that camera was practically glued to her hand" Eddie says, crossing his arms across his chest.
They all kept watching the screen, clips of their rehearsals, their hangouts, of them backstage, of them preparing for photoshoots and interviews.
"She’s still her, you know," Warren says softly, his gaze fixed on you. "No matter what, that’s still our girl up there."
Everyone nodded and let out a soft hum of agreement. Everyone, except Billy.
He had been quiet the whole time, his jaw clenched, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. He was trying not to breakdown. But the way you sang, the way that your emotions could be heard through your voice, it made it so hard for him.
Your voice got more powerful, more emotional. You played your piano with more urgency, as if you were letting your anger and sadness out.
"Yeah, they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if I don't?"
Your playing went back to a softer sound, and then everything went dark. Everything but the screen.
When the band saw what was playing, it felt like a stab to the heart.
It was a clip of you all seeing your names up on the marquee of Whiskey a Go Go.
It showed as you all excitedly walked down the street, Warren and Graham bolting the moment they could make out what the sign said.
"Guys slow down!" you say as you and the others run towards them.
"Look at that! That's us!" Warren shouts happily, pointing at the sign.
You all laugh and talk over each other. Suddenly, Billy grabs the camera from your hand.
"Billy- Billy! What are you doing?" you say as you laugh.
"You're always filming us...now it's your turn to be in front of it!" he says as he points the camera towards you.
You laugh and playfully swat the camera away as you cover your face.
"So, come on. Tell the camera what's next for us" he says laughing behind the camera.
You smile widely and laugh, "First...Whiskey a Go Go. Next a world tour and then...a grammy!"
The tape then faded, your laughter still ringing through the speakers.
The crowd erupted into applause.
You were now crying, not full out, but tears did fall from your eyes. You took out your ear pieces and stood in shock as you heard the volume of how loudly the crowd was cheering for you.
You wiped at your tears, laughing softly into the microphone. "Wow," you say, your voice breaking a little "You guys are amazing..." You stood back for a moment, just to take everything in.
As the lights shifted, your eyes instinctively scanned the seats, smiling as you saw all your fans cheering. For a brief moment, you thought you saw familiar faces near the back.
The lights shifted again, and the faces became indistinct shadows, leaving you wondering if your imagination had gotten the better of you.
But deep down, you had a feeling that those familiar faces were in fact real.
A/N: "traitor" popstar reader, you will always be my favorite.
#Spotify#billy dunne#billy dunne fic#billy dunne imagine#billy dunne angst#daisy jones and the six#djats#billy dunne x reader#warren rojas#karen sirko#graham dunne#eddie roundtree#djats fic#djats x reader#isa’s thoughts
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The one that got away 1
Coriolanus Snow x reader
Word count: 2.k
Warnings: idk?
Chapter 2



(I’m sorry this like a time skip before the games)
“It’s me or Lucy are you willing to give your life away for her!” I said you wanted the plinth prize but it seems it’s a love show of Snow and Lucy grey” I say with a smile scoffing as I hold back tears “Your over reacting Y/N! I’m just trying to win you know my current situation you sound mad!” He spits back.
He doesn’t look back at me and bites his tongue and with that I know he’s made up his mind “her or me! Her or me please..” I say looking at him watery eyes rosy cheeks I swallow the pain in my throat “I wish you the best of luck and for her” I speak in a calm voice wiping my tears as I walk away my heels clicking to ground

As I watch my tribute reaper gather the body’s one by one in the center of the arena my eyes begin to water his act of defiance takes a full on me and when he rips the capitols banner down to cover the body’s he looks into the cameras shouting I can’t control the tears in my eyes and walk away from the televisions and see Tigris’s at the exit smiling watching the tv.
I soon heard of the victory of Snow and Lucy grey I was happy for her win but I decided to not speak to Coriolanus and soon made my way home resting my head in my pink silk sheets as I change into a much compterable formal look negreo I knew it days began to fly then weeks I soon got heard of how Coriolanus was sent away to one of the distracts which hurt to here he really did anything for Lucy..
I put up my mask for every social event every gathering the perfect daughter of a well named man in the capitol but when I was home I locked myself in my room taking care of myself my mind slipping to the memories of Coriolanus white blond curls causing me to form sweat small smiles.
I was soon going on dates my mother and father had made for me I obliged some guys were sweet but stuck up or handsome and cocky I soon to think my soulmate had left and I’d have to be alone until one.. Devesh Sebastian the son of a politician he was different form the rest brownish locks that looked beautiful in the sun his eyes a light brown and sometimes gold if you looked at them in a right amount time his hair was long but a small pointy tail in the back leaving a few strand hair in the front, he dress himself nice white buttons up with a black tie black vest black coat and ideal man.
We soon got together and I brought up my heath curling hair with a bow light pink heels a white ish pinkish dress that’s beautiful land a white fur coat for an event a apply pinkish red lipstick and lip gloss (the ideal outfit it is in the bottom)
As I enter with Devesh my hand on his arm smiling giggling to his jokes and kiss him on the cheek and we part ways as I say hello to my parents and family friends and introduce myself to people I wonder what’s this event for I walk over to my mother “what’s this event for mother?” She soon reply’s in simple words “oh just this man reentering the capitol I think” she says as I nod and walk over to the drinks and grab two glasses of champagne and hear footsteps behind me.
“Oh sorry my dress is a big I’ll get out your way!” I say with a sweet smile “No need” a masculine voice responds that sounds familiar and I soon turn to face…Coriolanus snow but now his appearance is different his hair is cut shorter and styled some way back white colar red vest red coat red and red pants black shoes he’s cleaned himself so well “oh my Coriolanus! It’s so nice to see you once again!” I say with a sweet tone my voice like honey as I place down the glasses and hug him and grab the champagne glasses again.
“Y/n you look so beautiful this evening I thought I’d not see you until 20 years” he chuckles he mite look different but the way he is still feels the same “how’s it been I heard that you were sent to distract 12 to see Lucy?” I say as I’m confused on what happened “things changed different view points but I was able to come back to study under Dr. Volumnia” he speaks in a bold tone with a small smirk.
“Oh well I’m sorry to hear the part about Lucy but happy that it worked out in the end for you I have to go though bye! Croyo” I say as I walk away with the drinks in my hand to Devesh as he watches we walk away he clenches his fist as he sees me with another man thinking to him self who is that man is that her boyfriend did she not wait for me?
END OF PART ONE


This is the dress ^. This is the fur coat ^
#coriolanus snow x reader#reader#coriolanus snow#fanfic#tom blyth x resder#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games
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Cat Distribution System is a bitch
masterlist
I found Annabeth on the Arena along some few other campers. She was following their every move as they sparred. I kinda feel intimidated with how serious she is now, but I need to get this from my chest.
— Annabeth, can we talk for a second? — I ask.
She turns around surprised and she frowns at me.
— Do you need something? — She asked.
— N-no. I just- Can we talk somewhere more private? — She looked back at the kids, some where still sparring and others were pretending to do so to hear the conversation.
— Keep training, I'll be back. — She comanded, and everyone sighed in annoyance.
She signaled me somewhere far enough so nobody could hear.
— Go on now. — She crossed her arms over her chestplate, still wary.
— I wanted to say sorry for lashing out on you. I was... troubled and I lost it. You don't deserve that and I'm very sorry. —
I started to pick on my nails from the nervousness. I never was a person of many friends and if she didn't want it to be after everything, I couldn't blame her; but I can't let her think that I hate her.
— I know how hard it can be. — Annabeth sighed. I always knew that she knew. She had told me that she was an all year long camper but that her father lives in San Francisco. She didn't tell me the exact reason of why she never visited, but I know it's hard for her.
— I forgive you. — Her eyes softened softened.
— I didn't meant what I said. About us not being friends. You have not been anything but wonderful to me and I would love to call you my friend if you would allow me. — I don't dare to move closer. I'm afraid of making this more awkward for her.
Annabeth's eyes softened even more and she cleared her throat.
— That would be... nice. — She said.
I couldn't but help smile and she smirked.
— Great! Uhm, cool. —
Ok, so, when I met Percy everything went with the flow and didn't exactly ask each other if we were friends, we just kinda knew. So this situation right here is eating me inside. I have never felt more awkward in my entire life.
— The sparring lesson ended a while ago but I teach the ones that need some extra help for a while longer. Do you want to join so you don't fall behind? — Annabeth asked.
— Yes, please. Thank you, Annabeth. — I smiled.
— I'm sure you'll want to use the sword you got there. — She said with her eyes locked in my belt loop.
— How do you know... It doesn't matter. I wouldn't be surprised if you just have the aegis hidden somewhere. Percy has- PERCY IS DEMIGOD. Luke's showing him around camp right now. Can you believe we fought for absolutely nothing? Sorry for that again. Anyways, he has a pen-sword thingy that when I saw for the first time I thought I was going nuts because he pulverized our algebra teacher but thats alright because she was a Fury in disguise. Not that I approve going around slaying old ladys without knowing that they are monsters but- why are you looking at me with that face? Oh, im yapping. Got it. Sorry. — This is why I had no friends.
She chuckled.
— Don't worry. It's seems that you two got quite the story. — Annabeth smiled.
— Yeah. You should really meet him. He's a sweet guy. I'm sure you guys could be friends. —
Annabeth thought about it for a second.
— We'll see. Now, let's go with the others. I'll assign you a partner for practice. — We walked to where she was standing before and she analyzed the campers.
Her sight stopped on a girl with a pink handled sword and a boy who was about to pass out from exhaustion.
— Gabriel, you can go. — Annabeth said.
The boy smiled and ran before she could change her mind.
— Silena, this is Ada Williams. Ada, this is Silena Beuregard, daughter of Aprodithe. —
— Nice to meet you. — Silena raised her hand for me to shake.
— Nice to meet you too. — I shook her hand and smiled.
— I want you two to spar, just to see what Ada needs work with. — Annabeth said.
Visually, she was what you would expect from a typical Aprodithe kid. Her pink manicure was perfect, not chipped and not too long or too short. She had light make up on, just some gloss, foundation and rimmel. She was very pretty.
Silena nodded and put on her stance.
You would think that I would instinctively know how to perform a fighting stance but when Annabeth came closer, she just Shifu'ed my every move. Silena chuckled at my clumsiness.
Annabeth told us we were free to start and she stepped back to take a good view of everyone.
— I've heard about you. — Silena said when she charged at me, I blocked her and stepped back.
— What, exactly? — I ask her as she circled around me trying to catch me slacking.
She talked when our swords clashed.
— That you have been on two fights with Clarisse and then you two got locked in a cabin together for hours. — She said slyly, smirking.
I can even feel a blush creeping on my face. Shit. I can't think, I'm too flustered.
Silena took advantage of this, kicking my knee and pushing me on the ground. I fell on my butt and she lifted the tip op her sword to my face.
— Hey, not fair. — Silena rolled her eyes laughing and she offered her hand for me.
— Thought you would have it easy because im a Aphrodite kid? — She asked bitterly mocking.
— I thought you were just bad. How would I have it easy with an Aprodithe kid? Your mom led a war. I think she would have won it if anyone had listened to Cassandra, but that's Apollo's fault. —
Silena frowned and she chuckled bitterly.
— It really shows you are new around here. Gods change when the meaning of what they represent changes. You wouldn't think that the God of War still is a protector of women, do you? —
I thought of Clarisse and what she had said to me.
My mom told me the story of Ares, Hera's favorite son and possible one of the least horrible gods. He had been the defendant in the first murder trial in history because he had killed a son of Poseidon for raping his daughter, something no male God ever did for their daughters.
I thought that Clarisse put pressure on herself because she was his father's pride and joy but if Ares had lost that part of himself and all that was left was war I couldn’t blame Clarisse for her doings.
Silena took an answer out of my silence and went back to her fighting stance.
— Come on now, don't let me distract you just now. —
I gave a deep breath and got to the fighting stance Annabeth taught me. I charged first, the blow between our swords almost sends hers flying away. I was quick to hit her sword again, I wanted to hit the tip of it so it would move out of they way and I could touch her neck but it took me some tries because I kept hitting the middle of her sword. I finally land a precise blow and did as I had planed.
Selina raised her hands in surrender and rolled her eyes.
— I think I know who I'll assign the most difficult pegasus to next class. — Silena smirked and I chuckled.
— Thank you, Silena. Everyone can go prep for lunch now! — Annabeth said when she got closer, and every kid cheered and walked away.
— Bye, Ada. I'll see you around. — Silena said as she walked away.
— Bye, Silena. —
— You won't go just yet, Ada.— The Athena girl said when I sheathed my sword.
— I'll spar with you now. — She said.
— Don't you think that it's embarrassing how many times I ended up in the infirmary these two days? I'm afraid Will is going to see me again and kick me out. — Annabeth rolled her eyes at me.
— Your attacks are fast but not precise. You need to be ready for any monster attack. Not every monster is as flawed and dumb as a lestrygonian or a dracanae. —
— How do you know I faced them? — Annabeth's body stiffened for a moment.
— I know Grover, he told me what happened. — She didn't looked at my eyes.
The memory of the name that Grover screamed to me last night appeared on my head. He was so worked up last night, like if it was a nightmare he has go trought before; because he did.
— He was... your satyr protector? — I asked. I focused in sounding chill, I didn't want her to think I didn't trust her.
— He was. —
— Yeah, I guessed so. I get why you didn't told me, its ok. I know him, he's a nice person and Im glad that he was there for Percy. — I smirked at her.
The corner of her lips curled up for a second until she cleared her throat.
— Are you ready? — Annabeth got on her stance.
— Not really. — I chuckled and she charged at me.
I barely managed to dodge and block her attacks. They were almost perfect, she was aiming for my weak spots with precise and fast movements.
On a risky move, I succeeded to make her drop her sword. I smiled with pride and lifted the tip my sword to point her neck (with a lot distance tho; I dont wanna kill somebody).
— Never underestimate your opponents. — She said to quickly put on her Yankees cap and dissappear.
— Annabeth, what the fuck? — I asked turning around trying to cover all of my sides.
Of course her attacks with her sword were just "almost perfect", it's not her preferred weapon. She had a dagger at her hip all the time and now she was going to stab me with it.
Annabeth is scary. Her steps were impossible for me to hear, hell, i couldn't even hear her armor moving. I was getting nervous, exactly was she was looking for. I calmed down by taking a few deep breaths.
I could feel the wind hitting my skin and everything in the Arena that stood in it's way.
Annabeth approached me from behind silently, mistaken that I was completely helpless. The wind bouncing off her skin gave her away and I looked over my shoulder at her when I decided she was close enough.
— I can see you. — I felt her movements stop and quickly fully turned my body to her to push her to the ground with my shoulder and knock her cap away.
She fell to the ground with a thump and I kicked her dagger off her hand. I aimed my sword to her and she looked at me gobsmacked.
— How? — She asked.
I smiled and offered my hand.
— Nivir indiristimiti yir ippinints — I responded at her offended face.
— You are bluffing. I don't know how you did it but it wont work next time. — She went to get her cap and I went for her dagger.
— You are contradicting yourself, my friend. — I say when I hand her her weapon.
— Stop mocking me, lighthead. — She threatened but the smile on her face gave her away.
— Wha- Wow, nicknames stage friendship. Alright, whoie. —
— Whoie. Seriously? — Annabeth asked.
— I saw a bunch of your mom's little flying rats yesterday. You really look alike. — She punched me on my shoulder and rolled her eyes.
— Come on, lighthead, enough rest. Let's see you on proper battle. — She said "proper" harsher than the rest of the sentence, of course.
I know that Annabeth is going trought the trouble of teaching me not only because she is a super nice person but because she likes the challenge of putting her skills at test and Im starting to see why myself.
It was a beautiful day to train. Zeus wasn't pissed off and you could clearly see Apollo doing his daily journey, not the mention the chirping of birds and the owls hooting. The last part is weird because it broad daylight, but knowing that the Arena is one of Athena's spaces I guess that her sacred animal wants to know what's going on here. I prefer encountering an owl than a wild boar tho, so I'm not complaining.
Now with her dagger in hand, Annabeth put her stance back on and I followed suit.
The sound of the horn got to our ears and we dropped our weapons in annoyance.
— Come on, whoie. — I say offering my arm for her to interwine and she did.
— Let's stop by my cabin first. I need to get out of this thing. —
I entered Annabeth's cabin and waited for her as she got her armor off and placed it where the ones of her siblings where.
I took the moment to see the cabin well now that it's daylight. It is the neatest place that I have ever seen, like Pinterest level. I focused on the bed where Annabeth put her cap on and picking under her pillow there was a Polaroid of her as a kid and a Doberman .
— Not to be nosy but you are a dobie girl? — I asked.
Annabeth turned to look at me and saw what I was looking. She came over and smirk as she grabbed the picture.
— I'm a Collie lover because they are fluffy and smart but Zeus was the nicest boy ever. —
— That's an accurate name for a dog. — I said and Annabeth restrained a laugh.
— We made sure to neuter him. - Now I restrained a laugh. Im not eager to be struck by lightning again anytime soon.
— We didn't picked his name. When I was 4, I wanted a dog and when my dad took me to the shelter I saw that Zeus was going to be sacrificed for biting and after an hour of crying we took him home. This was on his first month of training school. He was a sweetheart. — She caressed the picture with her tumb and saved it on a book.
— I'm sorry for you loss. —
— It's ok. We had the greatest time together. — The tone of her voice dropped.
I got up from her bed and gave her a hug. Annabeth hugged me back and she let out a single quiet sob. She broke the hug quickly.
— Let's go, we are going to be late for lunch. — She started to make her way out of the cabin and I followed close behind.
— Why is everyone flashing blue cloths at the Ares kids? — I asked Annabeth when we were getting closer to the dining hall.
— The blue team won Capture the Flag thanks to my plan. That's why Clarisse is specially angry these days. Wouldn't be surprised if next Friday she brakes someone's bones to get the flag. — She smiled with pride.
— That's a little extreme, don't you think? — Annabeth stopped walking and looked directly into my eyes.
— It's a warfare game that prepares us for whats out there and you need to be smart and ruthless if you want to win the real thing. Thats one of the few things we agree on. Besides, we banned maiming and killing, theres nothing that the Apollo cabin cant take care of. — She started to walk again, leading the way.
— Delightful. —
ㅤׄ͜✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡✧ׅ͡
When I we were finally on the dining hall, I looked at Hermes table and noticed Percy sitting next to Luke. Also, there was no sight of Aaron, I think it was rude of me to not had say goodbye but I didn't even saw him leave.
I said goodbye to Annabeth to go sit next to Percy but I decided to approach him from behind to scare him.
— Buh! — I taped his shoulders, he flinched and turned around with an angry look that he had never given me before.
— Oh, it's you. — His eyes softened completely.
— I thought i was going to be trown in the mud again. - He said, taking a bite of his food.
— Again? What do you mean again? — I just left his side for a bit more than an hour and I had left him with bloody Luke.
— That girl from the Ares cabin, I think. Luke made her walk away before she actually punched me or something. — Percy shrugged, I couldn’t help but frown.
I looked at Clarisse's table, she was chuckling about something with the minions she called half-siblings. She met my eyes and she had her cocky eyes and a smirk. Then she noticed at Percy, her face shifted into disgust and scoffed to later allow me to see only the back of her head.
— I wouldn't worry, Percy. Ada is friends with Clarisse. — Percy looked at me like if I had grown two more heads.
— I would rather die. — I made both of the boys laugh.
— Well, then maybe you can join us on trying to find some glory. — Luke said, Percy sighed in defeat.
— Beg you pardon? —
— Luke told me that when demigods get glory, nobody messes with them and they get noticed. So I wanted to try to find something that im good at so my dad claims me. —
I looked at Luke and he gave me a "go with the flow" nod.
— I'm all free, let's do this thing. — I say, moving Percy by the shoulders, cheering him up.
The first thing I did when we got back to the cabin was fall to my knees on my sleeping bag and lay in it with my face buried on my backpack. My whole body was exhausted, we tried everything until darkness arrived and no shiny sign appeared above our heads.
Percy was remarcable at swordfighting, learning fast and adapting to Lukes moves. I decided to sit that one out, the heart attack I almost got from watching Annabeth turn invisible still haunted me. We even tried archery again but with Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew's guidence now, I shot bullseye and Percy almost shot me.
I lifted my head a little bit and saw Percy on my left sitting crossleg on his sleeping bag, staring at his hands while they picked on his shoelaces. He didn't say a word on the walk back and now he was still suffering on silence. I sat up and grabbed one of Percys hands, making him look at me.
— The most probable thing is that your dad is solving some godly issue and can't reach out right now. The important thing is that you are safe here and we are together. —
— He doesn't get to ignore me after what happened. I killed the Minotaur last night. What will it take for him to claim me? — His voice sounded angry and sad.
— Percy- —
— Clarisse doesn't believe me and I have the horn and everything. What if my dad is just as stupid? —
— Percy, Clarisse can go fuck off. I saw you stab him and im sure your dad is just as proud as I am. I know how bad it sucks but we need to be patient. — I squeezed his hand to ground him and he sighed again.
— How are you dealing with all of this? — He asked, grabbing my other hand.
When I was younger, it used to hurt not having him around. Especially when my classmates talked about how they were their daddy's princesses. I used to think that I was missing something but I got older and learned how shitty a dad can be. Sometimes I felt like I dodged a bullet.
Now, to make things even worse, he was a god. To be honest, I don't know what that makes me. There were many demigods heroes but many more lived unnoticed. Maybe I'll end up living how I have lived to my fathers eyes: Irrelevant. Maybe that was for the best.
— I lived trought twelve Fathers Day and many Father-Daugther dances. I don't need him for me to know who I am. Neither do you. — Percy pulled me for a hug.
— Thank you for everything that you've done for me, sis. — He said on the crook of my neck and hugged me tight.
— Thank you too, bro. —
We broke up the hug and Luke walked to us.
— Hey guys, the camp fire is going to start soon. You should get ready if you want to be there. — He said. We thanked him and he left to chat with Chris.
— Do you want to go? — Percy asked.
— Nah, I'm just going to take a shower and get some sleep. You should go with Luke and the others. Just do me the favor of listen to people so we can discuss all the tea over tea tomorrow morning. — Percy rolled his eyes.
— Maybe you are Helios daughter. You know, the gossiper. —
— Helios is a titan. —
— Again with mansplainig. Don't you have to go shower? You smell so bad im gonna puke all over you. —
— Ew, Percy, you are gross. — I push him to the ground as I got up and we laugh.
I got off my long shower and I could still hear the laughter coming from the camp fire. I gather my clothes and my towel in a tote bag and leave the showers.
— HELP! —
My heart dropped at the far scream. The despair in it wasn't what got me dropping everything and running to the woods, it was that that voice belongs to Annabeth.
The screams continued and they got louder and closer as I entered the woods area. I encountered a cave where the screams echoed and I entered without hesitation.
— ANNABETH. — I called as I ran trought the caves long entrance.
— ADARA. — She screamed, it came from way deep.
I only stopped because I got to the end of the cave. It was a round space with no way out or in other than the way I come from.
The openings on the roof let in the dim light of the moon, being the only way to see here.
It was dead silent.
I felt my brooch on the pocket of my shorts and unsheathed the sword.
— ANNABETH. — My scream echoed on the rock and nobody answered.
From within the shadows in front of me, a figure emerged growling. It was a lion, a giant one.
I gripped my sword tighter, bracing for was going to happen.
The lion made a deep, guttural roar and jump at me with his claws aiming for my head. I rolled to the side and slashed his front paw with my sword. It only made it angrier, not a scratch on the beast.
— ANNABETH, RUN AWAY! — Her silence was terrifying me. I didn't know if she was invisible or dead.
With every attempt to dig its claws into me, I would either block its paw or roll away.
It's so dark and cold here. I don't know how no one showed up yet. Annabeth's screams were loud and the camp fire was closer to the woods than the showers. I don't even know if Annabeth is injured or went to get help.
I feel so powerless and scared but I can't let my emotions take over. I needed to help my friend.
I decided to take deep breaths before the lion can feel I'm quivering.
I know the myth of the Nemean Lion. I know it can die but I'm not even half as strong as Heracles. I couldn’t choke him and his skin is impenetrable.
His skin is impenetrable. It can be killed.
He shows me all his set of teeth when he tries to bite me. I need to take action or he will tire me down and kill us.
I charge at him taking a claw on my left arm just below my shoulder, it tears my skin but my grip on my sword doesn't falter. I go face to face with the beast, he opens his jaw to bite my head off but I stick my sword deep into his throat.
The lion turns to dust leaving a cape where he stood.
— Annabeth? — I asked in the darkness.
My left arm went limp and I could feel the blood drops staining my leg. I used the light of my sword to see the corners of the cave but it was all empty.
I turn to the exit, desesperate to get out of here but I feel very dizzy, my legs are starting to become jelly and I was deep into the woods, far away from the part of them were the most dangerous threat was a humiliated nymph.
I grab the cape and place it on my shoulders so I wouldn't be a easy dinner for the monster that comes to finish me off.
I get out and the feeling of the sky above me relieved me. The fresh air allowed me to think clearly and I begin to stumble to the cabins.
— ANNABETH. — I kept calling for ger until my voice started to sound hoarse from all the shouting and I still didn't get an answer.
I could smell and see the big smoke come out of the camp fire but I couldn't continue walking, I felt so lightheaded.
Ha.
I dropped to my knees and my sword slipped out of my hand. I saw my left arm, the four claw mark was deeper and larger than I thought, my arm seemed like a slices of ham and from the wound down it was all red.
I cursed myself for not saving my ambrosia bag on my shorts and leave it on the tote bag instead.
I feel so upset, scared and angry. I don't know what happened to Annabeth or what will happen to me. My vision is blurry and my ears are buzzing.
Thunder began to roar in the sky and the wind picked up. I raised my eyes to the sky and felt the need for it. I could feel the charges filling the air and the despairing distance between the cumulonimbus and me.
In a desesperate move, I raised my hand to try to touch the sky followed by a tug on my gut, the voltage raised and lightning strucked me.
It felt like drinking hundreds of energy drinks without having a heart attack and instead feeling like you'd been to a spa. The energy not only healed my pain, it also made me feel better rested than I have ever felt.
I let the energy ran trought my body for a few minutes with my eyes closed, drinking in the feeling until I remembered my duty.
The voltage dropped and my bliss died down.
I opened my eyes and saw Chiron and almost all campers in front of me, ten meters away.
Amongst all the campers I noticed Annabeth, unharmed, and she seemed to be expecting something. Then I saw Luke who had a stone face and a hand on my scared brother. I even noticed Clarisse and her angry face.
I stood up in surprise and the centaur was the first to approach me.
— Ada- — Chiron interrupted his talking and walking.
He looked above my head with worried eyes and cleared his throat, putting himself together, to then look at my eyes.
— You have been claimed by Zeus, Thunderbringer, Lightning wielder, King of Gods. Adara Williams, daughter of Zeus. —
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#clarisse pjo#clarisse x reader#dior goodjohn#clarisse la rue x fem!reader#clarisse la rue imagine#percy jackson#pjo show#pjo fanfic#clarisse la rue fanfiction#clarisse la rue fanfic#clarisse x female reader#clarisse x fem!oc#silena beauregard
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please write more on the backstory of emma and gabe, how they got together!! Love you au’s❤️❤️
yes!! for those who are new and may have not read the au background, tyler is emma’s twin brother who swims at boston college :)
au masterlist
“sooo, you look more smiley than usual,” tyler poked his sister as they sat down in the dining hall together for their usual weekly lunch. the blonde flushed.
“do i?” she wondered and her brother nodded.
“uh, yeah. you look happy and less tired like you haven’t spend hours in the library,” he poked just a bit making emma roll her eyes.
“is that an insult?”
“no. i’m just making an observation,” tyler shrugged and emma shrugged too. she didn’t know if she wanted to tell him about gabe yet, but knowing tyler, he would pick her apart about it sooner than later.
“i’m just happy is that a crime?” the girl laughed a bit.
“no, it’s not. happiness looks good on you. are you seeing someone?” well, he got her there because emma’s entire face flushed a deep pink without her even knowing. tyler smirked. “you totally are. tell me.”
“it’s no one,” she shook her head.
“em, be so serious. no guy has ever made you blush like that before,” the dirty blonde poked her arm and emma rolled her eyes again. tyler was always so nosey.
“he’s just some guy in my french class that i tutor him for econ because i guess he’s really bad at it,” emma gave a brief explanation hoping that was enough to get him off her back.
“how did you even find that out in a french class?”
“he was doing econ in the class because i guess he’s fluent in french,” the blonde shrugged and tyler raised his eyebrow.
“so like you trying to get an easy a?”
“yeah, basically. i dunno. he’s pretty nice. he’s a hockey player,” now that made tyler’s eyes widen.
“you’re joking. you’re dating a hockey player?!” he exclaimed and emma quickly shushed him before others around them heard.
they were twins which meant they knew everything about one another. tyler knew his sister had never been interested in boys who played sports like that because she always thought they were stuck up and acted dumb when they really weren’t, so hearing that she was talking to a hockey player really threw him for a loop.
“we’re not dating. we’ve just been..hanging out i guess?” emma didn’t know how to describe her nightly study sessions in the library with gabe. tyler tsked though as he ate his sandwich.
“right. what’s his name?”
“gabe perreault,” emma said shyly.
“perreault? oh yeah, he’s definitely french. wow, i’m impressed em. you’ve finally come around,” tyler teased.
“shut up. he’s actually pretty smart he just doesn’t want other people knowing that. i don’t know. he’s nice. i like him,” the girl fiddled with her plate.
“i’m not judging you or anything. i’m happy for you. next time we go to a game you have to point him out to me,” tyler smiled and emma flushed.
“he’s been begging me to come to the game on friday.”
“and we’re going,” tyler determined.
“but it’s always so loud at hockey games,” emma grumbled.
“do you wanna support your man or not? we’re going,” tyler said and emma couldn’t argue.
—
she decided to surprise gabe that friday and not tell him she was going. she followed tyler into the arena that was already packed with bc students. emma pulled her sweatshirt closer to her body, forgetting how cold it was in the hockey rink.
tyler found some of his friends to sit with where emma shyly waved at them. even though they were twins, her and tyler had pretty different friends at college, which was actually nice for them because it made them their own person after having all the same friends in high school. tyler hung out with his swimming friends and emma had her own people she met, but it was nice when worlds collided sometimes.
she looked for gabe down on the ice, quickly finding his 34. she nudged tyler’s arm to point him out.
“he looks promising,” tyler teased making emma roll her eyes.
she watched him glide across the ice and handle the puck with ease. emma wasn’t a expert on hockey, but she knew enough to know that gabe was pretty good. really good, actually. he was fast and his linemates kept up with him. emma was thoroughly impressed and she slowly realized throughout the game just how dedicated gabe was to this sport which explained why he sometimes fell behind in school work.
maybe they really were more similar than she thought. emma was dedicated to her school work. gabe was dedicated to hockey in the same way.
when the game finished 4-3 with boston taking the win, the students cheered loudly as the boys headed back down the tunnel. emma followed tyler back into the main lobby.
“i think i’m gonna wait for him to come out. you can leave if you want,” she told him because she knew gabe would probably wanna walk her back to her dorm like he always did after they were done at the library.
tyler smirked though, “ah, i see. you wanna have some you and him time. all good.”
“shut up. i’ll see you later?” emma said and her brother laughed.
“i’m kidding. i’ll see you. get home safe,” the boy grinned and the twins said goodbye. emma perched herself against one of the walls hoping gabe would be out soon.
it was probably about fifteen minutes later that the players started trickling out. she watched all of them come out freshly showered and in their suits again, eyes scanning the crowd for gabe. he came out with his linemates and emma suddenly became nervous. what if he didn’t want her there?
she caught his gaze and the boy’s eyes widened a little. emma waved and the boy flushed as he broke apart from his teammates to greet her.
“w-what are you doing here?” he asked when he got closer.
“i thought i’d come by and see a game. it was actually pretty cool,” emma nodded and noticed the way his teammates eyed her but gabe didn’t pay much mind to them.
“i didn’t even know you were coming,” gabe couldn’t help the growing smile on his lips.
“i like surprises,” she chuckled.
“well, i’m glad you came. you get why i sometimes don’t do my work,” he chuckled too.
“yeah, i think i kind of get it now. you played good. not that i really know a lot, but it was good in my eyes,” her words earned a soft blush on gabe’s already red cheeks.
“thanks. it was definitely a good game. do you wanna walk back to the dorms together?” the boy asked shyly and emma nodded.
“yeah, i’d like that,” and they made their way out of the rink. her and gabe made small talk as they walked back through the now quiet campus.
#so high school au#so high school#emma grace cooper#emma grace x gabe perreault#gabe perreault fic#gabe perreault x oc#gabe perreault hockey#gabe perreault#gabe perreault fluff#gabe perreault blurb#gabe perreault 34#gp34#gabe perreault imagine#boston college hockey blurb#boston college hockey imagine#boston college imagine#boston college hockey#boston college#bc eagles#bc hockey#bc girls#bc eagles lb#nyr#new york rangers#ny rangers
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Little Dove
Instead of Lucy Gray, he got her younger, little sister, Rosalie Jade.
Previous Chapter
Chapter Four
Chapter Warnings: MDNI/18+/Mature scene - consented.
“I’m sorry ‘bout your friend.”
Today was the first “official” mentor-tribute interview day. Conveniently, the day after Arachne’s death. So here sat Rosalie Jade, along with the other 22 tributes, at a small table, where they were hand-cuffed to the table–the Academy didn’t want any more accidents–and each mentor was sat on the other side of the table, facing their tribute.
Coriolanus had already had an idea that Rosalie Jade was not one for violence, but rather peace and serenity. His idea was proven correct when he watched her throw up the food he had gotten her after watching Arachne be murder. It was further proven when he watched her comfort the one girl, who’s name he learned was Wovey, when Arachne’s murderous tribute had been displayed for all at her services, including the rest of the–very much alive–tributes. This was most definitely going to be a problem in the arena, where Rosalie Jade would be surrounded by destruction, violence, and death. She would not be able to hold someone’s hand as their head, and inturn, hers, would be cut off. So Coriolanus made a mental note to himself to make sure to work on getting her used to the site of blood, destruction, and death. How to do that, he would figure out later.
“It’s fine, Little Dove. She was just someone I knew from my childhood.” Coriolanus waved her off, sitting down across from her.
“She was a bitch and needed to die anyway.” Was what Coriolanus wanted to add, but decided against it, knowing how sensitive and fragile his tribute was.
“She was still your friend, though. Still someone ya’ knew Coryo.” Rosalie Jade responded, putting her small finger tips that the cuffs allowed her to, and traced small comforting lines back and forth on his hand.
Coryo. God, it sounded so good, I should have made her call me that from the start. And who knew that someone from District 12 could have such soft hands? They’re like fucking clouds. Can people feel like clouds?
“I guess you’re right. It’s ju-it’s been so different without h-her here.” Coriolanus lowered his head, putting his hand into hers so she was able to put her whole tiny hand on his large one, encouraging her to rub her thumb over his knuckles. Coriolanus would milk this tit all fucking day if he could. The sensations he was feeling from her hands on his just made him feel so comforted, wanted, loved.
“It’s ok Coryo. While I can’t promise you anythin’, just know that things will get better. You just gotta have hope.” Rosalie Jade tried to move closer to him, but a Peacekeeper near them put his hand on his gun, saying not to move any closer to Coriolanus, saying that the tributes were meant to keep a controlled distance away from their mentor. Coriolanus internally groaned at that and cursed Arachne for her stupid antics that now has everyone paying the price.
“Thank you, Little Dove.” Coriolanus smiled at her.
“Anytime Coryo.” Rosalie Jade smiled back at him, squeezing his hand in return.
Coriolanus, instead of doing his job and trying to help Rosalie Jade win, Coriolanus just sat there with a smile on his face that made him look like a teenage boy in love, trying to hold Rosalie Jade’s hand as long as he could, relishing in the wonderful feeling and burst of happiness he was getting from being touched.
“Hey, ah, where were you this mornin’? Everyone else’s mentors were here, but you weren’t. Thought you might’ve forgotten me!” Rosalie Jade joked, releasing her hand from his.
Feeling cold and wanting to get her warmth back, Coriolanus grabbed her hand again, in a comforting way, “Oh, I would never forget you Little Dove. I just had to drop something off for someone at the Citadel.”
It was true, Coriolanus was running late this morning because he needed to go to the Citadel first since he needed to drop off his paper of ideas for Dr. Gaul. The same paper that Clemensia insisted that she help on, which she did not. Since Arachne’s untimely death, Clemensia has barely talked to Coriolanus about the paper, let alone anyone. She seemed to have actually cared about that obnoxious little bitch that was going to try to blackmail Coriolanus. Coriolanus, however, couldn’t give two shits. He never really liked Arachne and when she started showed signs of wanting to blackmail Coriolanus, well that was the last straw. She had to go. But the day of her death, he found himself lying awake at night, not being able to fall asleep. Maybe it was guilt about not being able to save Arachne or maybe it was that her death reminded him too much of his mother’s. It was probably the latter. So that night, Coriolanus stayed awake and wrote the whole paper, putting all of his ideas down messily then fixing it up formally on the final copy. The last two nights had gone into revising the final copy so it would be perfect for Dr. Gaul. He needed this paper to be perfect for her if he wanted any chance of helping Rosalie Jade.
“Oh, ok!” Rosalie Jade smiled, leaning back in the chair as much as it would allow her, releasing Coriolanus’ hands for the final time. “So, whatcha’ got planned for me, Mr. Snow?” Rosalie Jade teased.
“Right! So for your final interview-” Coriolanus started but then was cut off by Rosalie Jade snapping at him, “I’m not talking ‘bout the interview, Coryo. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the Games. What can I do to live?”
“I’ll tell you later. Right now, we need to focus on your interview. That is what will help you.” Corioalnus told her, getting a little frustrated, that she cut him off.
“You want to help me?” Rosalie Jade questioned him.
“Of course Little Dove.” Corioalnus answered.
“Then start thinking that I can actually win.” She said, looking him in the eyes while leaning in closer.
Well, she does have a point there. But she is just so damn small! How can she survive?! Ohh!
“You're right. I’m sorry. When we get the tour of the arena tomorrow, we will look around for somewhere for you to climb or run and hide in. That is going to be your best bet. Don’t go into the Cornucopia right away, it’s just a trap to lure you into your death. That is where most of the deaths happen. We even call it the ‘Blood Bath’ whenever we go over previous Games in class because it is always so brutal and bloody.” Coriolanus tried to give her as much information as he could without overloading her small little brain.
Rosalie Jade didn’t say anything, but rather just stared at him in awe. In a terrified awe. Coriolanus saw as her sky blue almond eyes filled with tears. Other than the Reaping, where she almost cried in front of all of Panem, Coriolanus had never seen Rosalie Jade cry before. She had always been happy, making light of her horrible situation. Now, she sat in front of him with her head in her hands, crying her pretty little eyes out.
“Hey, it’s ok. I promise. My job is to protect you and keep you safe and alive. I intend to do that.” Coriolanus said, grabbing her hand and rubbing his fingers against her knuckles this time.
“I-I’m so-ory. I didn’t want to c-cry, b-but-I…I-I don’t wanna die, Coryo.” Rosalie Jade choked out.
“It’s ok, you don’t have to be sorry, Little Dove. You’re gonna be just fine. Ok? I promise, I am going to keep you safe.” Coriolanus said, taking his handkerchief out of his breast pocket, wiping away her tears.
“Why don’t I tell you what I got you for your interview, huh?” Coriolanus said, trying to distract Rosalie Jade.
“Y-yeah.” She hiccupped.
“I got you a guitar! Remember, just like you asked.” Coriolanus said enthusiastically, trying to cheer her up just like an older brother would do for their little sister.
“Really?” Rosalie Jade said, her tears glistening in hope.
“Yup! And my cousin is even going to let you borrow a dress just for the interview so she can wash your mother’s dress. She promises that she will be very careful.”
“T-that’s nice.” Rosalie Jade said, starting to come back to her normal, fun, light hearted self.
“Yeah.” Coriolanus absentmindedly said, so happy that he was able to make her happy and smile again. But as soon as he got her somewhat to her normal self, he remembered why he was here. Why she was here.
The form.
“Hey, so I need to ask you some questions to fill out this form on you. It’s to help with your interview.” Coriolanus said, hoping that the form wouldn’t upset her again and lead her to cry once more. He didn’t think his heart could handle his Little Dove crying again, this time because of him and not the Games.
Rosalie Jade just looked up at him, drying up her final tears with his handkerchief, and nodded.
“Great. So we have your name, age, District, and you already said that you have one sibling, your sister, Lucy Gray.” Rosalie Jade just sat there, nodding along with him in awe when he remembered her sister’s name, let alone that she even had one. She didn’t think that Coriolanus was listening to her when she had randomly brought up her sister.
“So that just leaves a partner, hobbies, and skills. We can cross off partn-” Coriolanus started but was cut off with Rosalie Jade saying, “Oh! I do have a boyfriend. Quite handsome if I do say so myself.” She smiled up at him, her previous sadness seemingly gone.
What!? Who?
Coriolanus internally growled to himself. Who could this little girl possibly be dating and why?
“Yeah? And who’s that Little Dove?” Coriolanus asked through gritted teeth, trying to keep his composure.
“The baker’s boy of course! Ryder Mellark, but we all call him Rye.” Rosalie Jade said matter of factly.
That’s such a stupid fucking name.
“Why do you care, though? You jealllllllous?” Rosalie Jade teased, dragging her L.
“W-what. No-o.” Coriolanus turned red at her accusation. He just wanted to know who thought that they were good enough to have his Little Dove.
Rosalie Jade just laughed at him stumbling over his words, “Oh my gosh, relax! I’m just playin’ with ‘ya. I ain't dating no one. Lucy Gray would rather have me hung than have me date someone. Though, the baker’s son is quite cute. Rye, not Corbin, he’s already datin’ someone…”
Coriolanus just let out a sigh of release as he let Rosalie Jade rant. He would let her talk as much as she wanted if it meant that she wasn’t dating someone. But for some reason, her thinking that Rye was cute, irked him.
“What about your hobbies?” Coriolanus cut off her rant as he realized that his time with her today was dwindling down.
“Oh, well I like to sing, but you already know that. I like to dance and swim too. Ooh! Before District 4 became District Four, when we were down there, Lucy Gray taught me to swim, so now I’m an expert! I swim so much down in the lake during the summer that my hands are almost always pruned up! You would like the lake, maybe one day you’ll get to see it.” Rosalie Jade smiled sadly at him, relaxing that she would never see her lake again.
“Or maybe I might visit you after you win and you can show me.” Coriolanus lied, trying to keep her spirits up. To that, she smiled back at him, this time more cheerfully. But there was no way in hell that Coriolanus was ever going to step foot in District 12 of all places.
“So I guess I can put swimming down as one of your skills. Do you have any more?” Coriolanus asked.
“No, sorry.” Rosalie Jade said, looking down, anxiously playing with Coriolanus’ handkerchief.
“Hey, it’s ok. At least you have something.” Coriolanus calmly told her, reaching his hands out towards her, wanting to take it in his hand again, but Rosalie jade took this as him wanting his handkerchief back.
“No, it’s ok. You keep it to dry your eyes whenever you need to.” Coriolanus told her.
It most certainly is not ok. You have no other skills than swimming in a dry land arena. How that fuck is that going to help you me?
“I can’t Coryo, it’s yours.” Rosalie Jade said, continuing to push his hand back to give him his handkerchief back.
Grabbing her hands and looking her in the eyes, Coriolanus said, “It’s fine Rosie Jay, it’s yours now. I have more at home.” He didn’t have many left, but she didn’t need to know that.
She finally accepted the handkerchief, but only in shock of him calling her Rosie Jay instead of Rosalie Jade or Little Dove.
“Alright! Time to go! Mentors, go please exit from the front left door! Tributes, stay where you are until a Peacekeeper comes to move you back into the monkey exhibit.” Coriolanus heard a Peacekeeper say.
He quickly stood up and walked to Rosalie Jade’s left side, giving her a kiss on the head, “I will see you tomorrow, Little Dove. I’ll make sure to bring you food, too.”
“Thank you, Coryo.” Rosalie Jade said, kissing him on the cheek in a sisterly love way, causing Coriolanus to blush and his body to tingle. Once he said goodbye to her, he started to walk away, contently until one of his peers, Festus Creed, started to join Coriolanus on his walk to his class.
“Quite the goodbye, huh.” Festus said to Coriolanus.
“I suppose you’re right. Just trying to calm her down.” Coriolanus defended.
“Right.” Festus laughed as he started to walk away from Coriolanus.
Idiot.
God, my pants are so tight.
Coriolanus was sitting in his seat, listening to Highbottom drone on about past Games and how the mentors could use them to their advantage to get a better chance for their tribute to win. But the only thing that Coriolaus could focus on was his pants. They just felt so tight.
Maybe Tigris did something to them or I outgrew them? Fuck.
Coriolanus kept moving in his seat, trying to make himself comfortable, but to no avail. His constant moving caught the eye’s of some of his fellow students, and Highbottom’s.
“Is there a problem Mr. Snow?” Highbottom raised his left eyebrow towards Coriolanus.
“Yes, I have a question.” Coiolanus said. He couldn’t say he needed the restroom without people thinking that he was about to pee himself.
“And what might that be, Mr. Snow?” Highbottom asked, condescendingly.
“You said that Cassius Heath was the first ever victor, from Two. The next from One, and the next, Two again. It has been a pattern since the start of the Games, with the occasion of one of the lower Districts winning every few Games. I mean, there have only been two winners from lower Districts. So why is it that the higher Districts almost always seem to win?” Coriolanus asked. He had made it up as he went, but as he finished, he heard the logic behind his made-up question.
Highbottom opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He looked stumped, like he didn't think Coriolanus was actually going to ask a question. Finally figuring out an answer to giver him, Highbottom said, “Are you proposing that the higher Districts are possibly preparing kids for the Games? Cheating?”
“I wouldn’t put it behind them. They have the money too, they could train them, maybe even get some to volunteer.” Corioalnus spoke confidently, amused that he had stumped High-as-a-kite-bottom for once.
“Hmm. Stay after class, Mr. Snow. I would like to talk to you more on this idea of yours.” Highbottom said, shrugging off Coriolanus’ answer. Coriolanus knew better than to think that Highbottom was going to actually talk to him about his idea. No, he was most likely going to lecture him about disrupting his class.
“Yes, of course, Dean Highbottom. Also, may I use the restroom?” Coriolanus quickly said.
“Yes, boy, go. I don’t need you disrupting my class any longer.” Highbottom waved him off.
Or maybe he’ll lecture me in front of the whole class.
“You know, that shirt looks quite good on you, Coriolanus.”
Oh fuck off.
“Thank you, Livia.”
Coriolanus was just trying to open the door to the men's restroom when Livia Cardew came up to him, flirting. Why? Coriolanus had no idea.
“Can I help you Livia?” Coriolanus asked, just wanting to try to fix his pants.
“No,” Livia said, bluntly walking up to Coriolanus, “but maybe I can help you with something.” She said, slightly rubbing her hand on his crotch.
Coriolanus immediately turned red, “W-what are you talki-what are you doing Livia?”
“Oh, come on, Coryo. You can't act all high and mighty in front of that tribute of yours, stump Highbottom and expect me to not be turned on. I mean, have you seen yourself. You look like a fucking Greek God. And that's with your clothes on, I can only wonder what you look like with them off.” Livia mumbled the end, continuing her ministrations on Coriolanus’ hard dick.
Coriolanus was about to speak up, to correct her when she called him Coryo, only Rosalie Jade could call him that, when he realized that he could use this situation to his advantage. Livia came from a wealthy family and with what she had said about wondering about him, Coriolanus could only imagine how many times she had gotten herself off to the thought of him. He had caught her on many different occasions staring at him or more specially, his arms, hands, and pants. He had caught many other girls, but Livia was a reoccurring face. What can he say? Coriolanus Snow was a catch.
Coriolanus, composing himself, grabbed Livia's hand and brought her close to him, and in turn his dick, causing her to whimper, “Why thank you Livia, but it seems that you want help from me though, doesn't it?” Coriolanus asked cockily, smirking to himself when he moved his free hand to Livia's waistband of her pants-skirt uniform, toying with it lightly drawing a soft moan from Livia.
God, I haven't even done anything yet and she is already a pathetic whimpering, moaning mess.
Livia just nodded her head as he lightly pulled her into the bathroom by her waistband. He let go of her wrist and locked the bathroom door, he knew no one would be in the bathroom during class, it was almost an unspoken rule of not going during class as it would ruining precious learning time, but Highbottom must hate Coriolanus so much, that he didn't seem to care much about his learning time. How rude.
Coriolanus moved his hand further down into her pants, lightly rubbing his knuckles over her wet underwater, drawing a gasp from Livia.
The second he ghosted his fingers over her clit, he pulled them away, “Too bad you said you didn't need my help. But I do recall you offering your help.” Coriolanus smirked as he watched her face go from pleasurable excitement, to disappointment, and back to excitement again. He continued to smirk as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him.
“Good girl.” Coriolanus whispered, as she slowly brought down the lower part of his uniform. He looked her in the eyes as she brought down his underwear, watching his hard dick smack his stomach. He smirked as she gasped at his size and leaned his head back as she gently took his dick in her hand, pumping him up and down.
He closed his eyes in pleasure as she went faster. He let out small grunts and groans of pleasure, but nothing that would make Livia feel praised. She didn't deserve Coriolanus Snow's praise.
She slowly brought him into her mouth, taking as much as she could while jerking off what she could fit. The unexpected warmth caused Coriolanus to buck his into her mouth, making her gag slightly.
Coriolanus, deciding that her bobbing up and down on his length wasn't fast enough, brought his right hand down to her hair, roughly grabbing some of her hair, making her go faster. Livia whimpered from his hold on her head and gagged from the sudden movement.
God. I can't believe that I am doing this. I'm letting this pathetic, little self entitled bitch suck me off during class. But she came onto me, so it's not really my fault. Besides, I was already hard, I needed something or someone to give me some release.
Coriolanus slowly started to buck his hips more into Livia's mouth, causing her gagging to become more frequent.
I still can't believe that I am doing this in school. And right after talking to Rosalie Jade. Oh, Little Dove, what am I going to do about you? There has to be some way to keep you safe, to make sure that you live. That you can go back home to your sister, to me. We could be a family. You're like my little sister. Yes. My singing, fragile, cute little sister. I would protect you just like a big brother. I would do better than your sister did. I would have never let you get Reaped. I would keep you safe, my Little Dove.
As Coriolanus was thinking fantasizing about what to do with Rosalie Jade, he continued to fuck Livia's mouth, his pace increasing giving her mouth no relent.
Maybe I could keep you in the Corso, away from all the dangers of the world. Just like a bird in a gilded cage.
With that, Coriolanus' grip on Livia's hair tightened, keeping her on his cock as he released himself inside of her throat with a loud groan.
He kept her there for a moment, enjoying the warmth she brought that reminded him of Rosalie Jade, and reluctantly let her off to breathe.
Who knew blondes could give good head? I wish her hair was more golden though, like Rosalie Jade’s.
He went into one of the stalls and grabbed some toilet paper, cleaning himself off first, then walking over to Livia–who was still trying to catch her breath–and lifted her chin up with his two fingers, cleaning up her face, focusing on her mouth. He had to seem somewhat kind after he just roughly fucked her face, otherwise she might not like Coriolanus anymore with how he treated her and then he might lose a way to get money. But the lovestruck look in her eyes as Coriolanus cleaned her up told him otherwise.
Maybe she's a masochist?
He looked her in the eyes as he spoke slowly, “You're gonna keep this between us right? Our little secret?”
Livia nodded as she moved herself onto his left shoe, humping it gently, trying to relieve some pressure. Coriolanus quickly moved his foot away, gripping his jaw harshly, “Words, Livia.”
“Yes. Our little secret.” Livia answered, blissfully, for her dreams were coming true. Well, some of them.
Coriolanus just smirked, moving towards the door, exiting with cold words, “Then maybe you should go to the nurse, get an ice pack for your head, wouldn't want anyone getting suspicious of us both going to the restroom at the same time. It would ruin our secret, now wouldn't it?”
“Y-yes! It would. I will! Bye Cory-” Livia started, but was cut off with Coriolanus slamming the door on her face.
“What a gentleman, thinking about my head.” Livia said, dreamily as she got herself ready to go to the nurse.
“And why would you think this, Mr. Snow?”
Had Coriolanus known that Highbottom was going to tell Dr. Gaul about his “question,” he would have tried to at least prepare himself a little better. Instead, he stood across from a curious Dr. Gaul and a smirking Highbottom.
Fucking bastard.
“Well, while I know that the Games are still young, it seems that there has been a victory pattern. The higher ranking Districts seem to almost always win the Games, with the occasion of a tribute from a lower ranking one” Coriolanus was trying to make himself sound as serious as possible since he was now presenting his “question” to Dr. Gaul. Had it just been Highbottom, then Coriolanus would have been looking for ways to get Rosalie Jade food by now. He wasn't going to listen to whatever the incompetent man had to say.
“Are you suggesting that there is some sort of cheating going on in the Districts, Mr. Snow?” Gaul asked, with an eyebrow raised. Had she missed something? Was that why the ratings have been going down since the seventh Games? Were the people of the Capitol getting bored of seeing the same few Districts winning?
“I think there has been some sort of training going on in certain Districts. That they are preparing their tributes for the Games,” Coriolanus started, “That they are choosing certain boys and girls before the Reaping so they have a better chance of winning. The boy tribute last year even volunteered.” Coriolanus finished.
“But why, Mr. Snow? Why would a District go through all that trouble to just win back the same person they sent to die. They don't get anything else in return.” Gaul countered, getting more intrigued by the minute.
“For the sake of being the Victor. It is the only thing that they can win back from the war other than a kid they sent to die. But they can only be the Victor for a period of time. And that's what I wrote about in the paper you assigned Clemensia and me. I think that if there was something for the Districts to win other than the person back, they would be more inclined to try to win. To play our games.” The whole time Coriolanus was saying this, Highbottom was just watching the two of them, scowling in disgust.
What is his problem? He was the one that caused this. The Games and this conversation.
Gaul just looked at him in delight. She had a feeling that Coriolanus and her were going to get along just right.
“Yes, the paper. I read it and was very impressed. Please get Clemensia and I would like to see the both of you in my office at the Citadel in exactly 10 minutes.” Gaul answered, completely ignoring everything Corilanus had said except for the paper.
Coriolanus smiled as he nodded, his eyes watching Gaul leave the room. When he went to grab his damaged and decaying satchel, he heard Highbottom speak for the first time since this conversation had started.
“You are just like your father, you know that boy?”
What?
“How did you know my father?” Coriolanus asked, confused.
Highbottom just chuckled to himself and smiled at Coriolanus, “Some things are best kept a mystery.”
Coriolanus just stared at him, perplexed. He realized that this conversation was going nowhere, so he started to leave when he was yet again stopped by hearing Highbottom's rough voice.
“Hey, good luck with that little songbird of yours. You're going to need it.”
Fuck off.
“Thank you.” Coriolanus decided to keep his thought to himself, seeing as he didn't want to get another dermit.
“Coriolanus, know that I will do everything in my power to keep you from winning that Plinth Prize.” Highbottom said, calmly as he watched the boy continue to walk away from him, seemingly ignoring him.
“And know that I will do everything in my power to win and keep Rosalie Jade alive.” Corioanus told the man as he closed the door on him, giving Coriolanus the last word.
However, what Coriolanus didn't know was that Highbottom had been watching him during his interview with Rosalie Jade. How he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself, how he was getting closer to her. He didn't like that and feared for poor Rosalie Jade. For he was worried terrified that Coriolanus was more like his father than he originally thought. And that Rosalie Jade would suffer a similar fate to Juliet Snow, Coriolanus’ late mother.
“Could you at least give me a run down of the paper so I won't be completely clueless?” Clemensia pleaded with Coriolanus.
Had you done it with me, we wouldn't have this problem.
Coriolanus had got Clemensia just like Dr. Gaul had asked, and they were walking to the Citadel to see her. But since Clemensia had blocked herself off from what seemed to be the entire world after Arachne's death, she didn't write a single word on that paper. So Coriolanus was just informing her the basic gist of the paper and key points he wrote about.
“I can't believe you actually were able to even write anything or do anything for that matter after her death. I-I wasn't able to even sleep. I couldn't seem to do anything.” Clemensia said, looking down at her feet as they walked up the stairs to the Citadel.
“Well I couldn't sleep, that's how I was able to write it.” Coriolanus told her, not wanting to sound like a complete dick for not being sad over someone wanting to blackmail him, die.
Clemensia just hummed at him in response, keeping her head hung low as they followed someone to Dr. Gaul's office.
Maybe they were closer than I thought?
As the woman who guided them to Gaul’s office opened the door for them, Coriolanus quickly realized why the woman left them so hastily. Gaul’s office seemed to be more of a mad scientist lab rather than an office. It was covered from head to toe with odd and crazy looking animals, mutations, and in the far right corner there was a large case filled with some sort of fluid, holding what seemed to look like a human.
Its body looked mutated, its bone’s piercing through the skin, eyes bulging out of their sockets, holding onto dear life like the nerves trying to hold onto a young child’s extremely loose tooth. There were bald patches all over its body that showed signs of chemical burns, but where there was hair, feathers could be seen growing out of its body, giving it a hunched back form from the heavyweight of them. But its mouth. Oh its teeth had been melted into sharp fangs, blood stuck on the corner of its mouth. And as if there were invisible strings, it was smiling right back at Coriolanus. Looking him straight into his eyes, into his soul. As he got closer, he could see the pain and misery in its eyes. And that when he realized that it had no tongue.
It's an avox!
Bang!
“Ahh!”
Coriolanus quickly turned around at Clemensia’s shriek. She had gotten too close to one of the mutations and it had banged its head against the glass, scarning her. She hurried over to Corioanus and grabbed his arm, “I don't like this Coriolanus.”
“Neither do I.” He responded, holding her hand in an attempt to comfort her. While Coriolanus Snow wasn’t fond of many people, Clemensia Dovecote was one of the very few people Coriolanus tolerated being around, even though she had her moments.
“There you two are,” Gaul’s voice boomed. They both turned around quickly to see Gaul smiling creepily at them, “Follow me please.”
As they walked up to her, Coriolanus got a better look at some of the other mutations. The others are animals, or at some point in time, they were. There was a bird that had the body of a mauled lamb, and sharp claws like a lion. It was a bloody, disgusting mess.
“Do you like my mutts?” Gaul asked Coriolanus, catching him looking at them longer than Clemensia could stomach.
“What?” Coriolanus ask, confused.
“My mutts. Isn't it marvelous how something simple can be turned into something so beautifully dangerous?” Gial asked, dreamily.
Coriolanus simply nodded, not understanding how something so horrible looking could be seen as beautiful.
“Speaking of beautifully dangerous, I read your paper, and I must say I am very impressed by you two. Your ideas brought up good points, and gave me a new perspective of looking at the Games. How we can help the tributes, reap the rewards, and let them figure out the inner themselves. Individually, you both are good students, but together you show incredible potential.” Gaul said, smirking at them.
But right as Coriolanus and Clemensia went to thank her, she cut them both off, “You did both write this, correct?”
Shit.
Coriolanus knew that lying to someone as powerful as Dr. Gaul wouldn't go over well, so right as he went to confess, Clemensia interrupted him, “Of course we did, Dr. Gaul. Like I said on the day you assigned this paper to us both, we are partners, we always work better together.”
No, you idiot! Don't lie to Gaul!
Coriolanus went to say something, only to yet again be interrupted by Gaul, “Wonderful. However it seems my incompetent assistant put your paper inside my new creations home,” As she said this, she pointed over to a beautiful, large, tall case, holding rainbow colored snakes, “You wouldn't mind getting it for me, would you Miss. Dovecote?” Gaul asked, tilting her head, lightly pushing her and Coriolanus towards the case and up the stairs.
Clemensia just looked at the snakes in horror, asking, “Is there a point to the color?” To this Gaul laughed, stating, “Oh there is a point there to everything my dear. For them, I found that having the victims of their bites see a rainbow of color before their death, giving them a false sense of hope, is more amusing than watching them just die.”
Clemensia just looked at the mad woman in shock, not knowing how to respond.
Because the only thing more powerful than fear is hope.
“Now, are you going to retrieve your paper or not?” Gaul asked, tilting her head amused.
Clemensia gulped, “But how is this safe. I don't want to get bit!”
“Oh, relax child. You won't get bit, it is completely safe.” Gaul told her, reaching her own hand in, letting a snake coil around her arm. So Clemensia slowly started to reach her shaking hand in.
“Oh course if they have your scent, which should not be a problem because of your paper. But, if they did not, well once might not want to stick their hand in there.” Gaul told her, and just as Coriolanus put the pieces together, he was too late, again.
“Ahhhhh!” Clemensia screamed in pain, falling backwards onto the ground with a harsh thud.
Coriolanus quickly ran to the edge of the railless staircase. “Clemmie!”
“So it was your sweaty palms who wrote the paper?” Gaul asked him, nonchalantly as Peacekeepers quickly came in and put a shot into her neck, carrying her away.
“What, yes, is she going to die?” Coripanus asked her frantically.
“Depends on how hard she fights. Now your ideas, I liked them, all of them. I have already talked to my team about incorporating the sponsor idea and how to get them food and water there, but your other ones might take more time. The betting will happen this year though and it shall be the pinnacle of this year's Games.” Gaul continued, not caring about how one of her own students just got bit by one of her own creations.
Coriolanus, still in shock from what had just happened, almost missed what she had said.
She liked them, all of them. And she is going to move forward with them, some of them this year! This Is it. This is how I help Rosie Jay!
So he answered with the only thing he could get out of his mouth, “Ok. Thank you.” Gaul just looked at him, amused. “You may go now, Mr. Snow. I wouldn't want you to be late to your next class.”
With that, he turned on his heel and started to leave rather quickly, wanting to get out of this lab from Hell. But as he reached the door he was stopped by Gaul's voice, “Coriolanus, in the future, don't ever lie to me again. It will not bring you anything good.” She said, all amusement gone.
He just nodded.
Last night had brought much stress to Coriolanus, he had to somehow find extra food that he didn’t have, and bring it to Rosalie Jade. He would worry about getting the guitar and dress to her later. But once he came home from the Academy last night and was given time to himself, the event finally sunk in. He had watched Clemensia get bit by a poisonous snake that Gaul made and let bite her. She let one of her own students get hurt and possibly die by one of her own creations, and didn’t give a flying fuck. He watched, yet again, another person he knew get hurt when he could’ve saved them. This is the second time and Coriolnaus wouldn’t let it be a third time, not with Rosalie Jade. He needed to save her because she would save him in more ways than one.
So here he was, walking up to the zoo as he heard something lovely.
“Down in the valley, the valley so low
Late in the evening, hear the train blow
The train, love, hear the train blow
Late in the evening, hear the train blow.”
It was Rosalie Jade.
“Go build me a mansion, build it so high
So I can see my true love go by
See him go by, love, see him go by
So I can see my true love go by.”
She was singing again.
“Go write me a letter, send it by mail
Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail
The Capital jail, love, the Capitol jail
Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail.”
Good girl.
“Roses are red, violets are blue
Birds in the heavens know I love you
Know I love you, oh know I love you
Birds in the heavens know I love you.”
“You have such a beautiful voice, Little Dove.” Coriolanus told Rosalie Jade as he walked up to the cage.
“Why thank you, Mr. Snow. You as well.” She giggled.
Coriolanus laughed, “Thank you, Miss. Baird. My grandma’am kept me up all night practicing to make sure that I hit all of my notes.”
“Well I think you did an awful good job.” She smiled at him.
Awful good?
Coriolanus just smiled back at her and to her backwards way of talking. “I brought something for you.” He finally said, reaching into his satchel to give her the food.
“Ooh, yummy.” She said, making grabby hands at him in a cute way.
“Here you go.” He said, laughing at her childish actions. He watched as she split it into halves. Thinking it was for him, Coriolanus got ready to put his hand out to take it, but instead, Jessup came up from behind her. He crouched down to her level, whispering something into her ear, and taking the other half of the sandwich. As Coriolanus watched in shock disgust as Jessup took his food, he noticed something on the boy’s neck. A bite mark.
He watched him walk away in confusion.
What bit him and when?
He looked back at Rosalie Jade, who was content eating her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, “What was that mark on his neck, Rosie Jay?” He asked her.
“Hm? Oh, Jessup? Yeah, he got bit by a rat on the first night here. They put rat poison around the cage, but the rats know to not go near it. He just came over to get some food and say thanks for letting him use the handkerchief.” She told him, finishing up her sandwich.
“Oh.” He just responded.
She let someone else use the handkerchief I gave her?
Rosalie Jade looked up at him, sensing his disappointment, “Sorry, it’s just that I didn't really need it and it would have helped Jessup more than me at the time.”
Didn’t need it?
“It’s okay, Rosalie Jade. I just thought the sharing ended at the food, my bad.” Coriolanus pettily replied. She just looked up at him, feeling guilty now that she had seen Coriolanus was upset with her actions. Coriolanus, while feeling bad that she felt guilty, felt powerful that she felt guilty because she had upset him. That she felt bad because she disappointed him and he felt amazing about that.
“So what song are you going to sing for your interview?” Coriolanus asked, changing the topic, not wanting her to feel too bad.
“Oh, I uh, have a good one picked out.” She said, looking down.
Shit.
“I’m sure whatever you sing is going to be amazing, just like you.” He said, racing his hand through the cage to lift her chin up to him.
“You really think so?” She said, her eyes tearing up.
“Of course I do, Little Dove.” He told her, smiling softly. She smiled back.
“Alright, let's go!” A Peacekeeper said. It was time for the mentors and their tributes to see the arena for the first and only time before the Games.
“I’ll see you there, Little Dove.”
He could have her feeling bad for a little longer. She gave away his gift to her, she needed to be punished somehow.
“Enjoy the show!”
As all the tributes and mentors walked in, the phrase, “Enjoy the show!” was heard. This was because the arena used to be a circus before the Dark Days, a circus where Coriolanus would occasionally go to before the Dark days.
Coriolanus and Rosalie Jade were near the end of the line, with Lysistrata Vickers and Jessup behind them. As they walked through the dark tunnel, Rosalie Jade grabbed Coriolanus’ hand, holding onto it for comfort. He held her hand back in a tight grip. And when they reached the final entrance to the arena, where there was light and cameras, she went to let go of his hand, but he held on tighter, not wanting to let her go.
She just looked up at him as the two of them went to their own area away from the others.
As Coriolanus was looking around the arena, trying to find places for Rosalie Jade to hide, he felt her wrap her arms around his waist, nuzzling her head into his chest, crying, “Don’t leave me die in here, Coryo. Please.”
He quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer to him, whispering sweet nothings into her ear in an attempt to calm her down. When he realized that wasn’t working, he reluctantly pulled her away from his chest, “Hey, hey. Look at me Rosalie Jade. You’re not going to die in here, ok? I promised you that I was going to get you home and I plan on keeping that promise. I’m not going to let you di-”
BOOM!
And just like that, the world seemed to stop.
Bomb time.
During the Dark Days, whenever bombs were going off, Tigris and Coriolnaus had named it Bomb Time. And that’s what this is. Somehow, someway, bombs had gone off in the arena. Coriolanus had gotten flung away from Rosalie Jade and had no idea where she went.
“Rosalie Jade!” He yelled, only getting screams as a response, but no her screams. He kept looking for her, trying to find her to get her out. She would not be the third.
CRASH!
“Ahh! Help!” Coriolanus yelled. He was currently getting crushed by something and that something was on fire. It was burning through his clothes, burning his skin.
“Ahhhh!” He groaned. He kept trying to move it off of him, but to no avail.
This is it. I am going to die.
Just then, he saw a flash of color.
Rosalie Jade!
She had come back to him, but there was someone trying to pull her back, away from him to safety. It was Marcus.
“He wouldn’t save you! Go, get out while you can!” He yelled to her.
Of fuck you.
But Rosalie Jade pushed him away and went to Coriolanus, trying to lift the piece of rubble off of him. He knew by herself, she wouldn’t be able to get it off, so he started to push again. And after a few good moments of pushing, they got him free. He went to reach for her, to get her out of here, but she was quickly taken by Peacekeepers.
“No! Rosalie Jade!” He yelled, but then quickly collapsed from the pain and exhaustion just as a Peacekeeper came to get him.
“Shh, look. He’s waking up.” Coriolanus heard someone say.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Sejanus and Tigris hovering around him.
Where am I?
“Hey, Coryo,” Tigris gently spoke while caressing his face, “I was so worried about you.”
Oh.
“You missed Bomb Time.” Coriolanus told her, slightly joking.
“Yeah.” She just told him, laughing lightly as a single tear rolled down her face.
“I’m ok, Tigris. I promise.” He told her, looking at Sejanus, wondering why he of all people was here.
Promise.
“R-rosalie Jade, is-is she-” He struggled to get his words out, in fear that something had happened to her, and Tigris noticed this, swiftly cutting him off with, “She’s fine, Coryo. I just dropped off the dress and guitar for her interview.”
“They are still going on with the Games? Wait, interview? How long have I been out for?” He asked, wincing as he sat up with the help of Tigris.
“You’ve been out for almost three days, Coryo. And I know, it’s ridiculous, I can’t believe that they are still continuing with the Games. Hell, Felix is laying on his deathbed right now.” Sejanus ranted.
“Was anyone else hurt?” Coroilanus asked.
“Yes, many. A handful of tributes died, as did some mentors. The Apollo twins, they, um, they died. Most everyone else just got injured. One tribute got away. Mark, I think was his-” Tigris choked out, only to be cut off by Sejanus saying, “Marcus. His name is Marcus.”
Your tribute. The one that tried to get Rosalie Jade away from me.
“Right, Marcus. Sorry.” Tigris said, apologetically to Sejanus. No one knew what was going to happen to Marcus when he was inevitably found, but when he was, they knew it would be bad.
“And now, for our last interview, please welcome Rosalie Jade Baird! Get up here you little songbird.” Coriolanus looked up at the T.V. hanging on the wall when he heard Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman's annoying voice. And that’s when he saw her, or rather, the dress.
It was meant to be a 12th birthday gift for Coriolanu’s unborn baby sister, for when Tigris found out her aunt was pregnant, she was so excited and was just learning how to sew. She had sewn dresses for each of the unborn baby’s birthdays up until 21 years. She didn’t think much about measurements back then, she just wanted to sew and show her love. But when his mother and baby sister died, the Snow’s ended up burning them for warmth or selling them for food. However, Tigris couldn’t part with the 12th one or the 1st. Both were a beautiful, white dress made out of silk and tool. The represented what the Snow name was meant to be, what it had been. Beautiful, elegant, rich, and pure.
“Hello Capital, Districts. I wrote this song for some people back where I’m from and I hope they hear it.” She said, as Coriolanus walked closer to the T.V. with the help of Tigris. She looked beautiful, like a true dove. But the second she started singing, Coriolanus finally figured it out.
“My father never talked a lot
He just took a walk around the block
'Til all his anger took a hold of him
And then he'd hit
My mother never cried a lot
She took the punches, but she never fought
'Til she said, "I'm leaving, and I'll take the kids"
So she did.”
Watching her up there on that stage, wearing his unborn baby sister’s dress, golden wavy locks shining in the lights, making her look like an angel, he finally figured out what she reminded him of on the first day in the zoo.
“I say they're just the ones who gave me life
But I truly am my parents' child.”
She was what his baby sister was supposed to be like. She was what Coriolanus was supposed to protect from the world. She was his little sister.
“Scattered 'cross my family line
I'm so good at telling lies
That came from my mother's side
Told a million to survive
Scattered 'cross my family line
God, I have my father's eyes
But my sister's when I cry
I can run, but I can't hide
From my family line.”
Everytime someone had told him, “Good luck with that songbird of yours” or “Your tribute,” they were right. Rosalie Jade was his tribute. His girl. His Little Dove. She was his.
“It's hard to put it into words
How the holidays will always hurt
I watch the fathers with their little girls
And wonder what I did to deserve this
How could you hurt a little kid?
I can't forget, I can't forgive you
'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me.”
He had let her down, according to her song at least. He let his baby sister feel hurt, get hurt. And he was so angry at this. Why would her own family hurt her, hurt someone, something beautiful and pure?
“Scattered 'cross my family line
I'm so good at telling lies
That came from my mother's side
Told a million to survive
Scattered 'cross my family line
God, I have my father's eyes
But my sister's when I cry
I can run, but I can't hide
From my family line
From my family line.”
He had let her down. He had let her get hurt in this horrible world, and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Ever.
“Oh, all that I did to try to undo it
All of my pain and all your excuses
I was a kid but I wasn't clueless
Someone who loves you wouldn't do this
All of my past, I tried to erase it
But now I see, would I even change it?
Might share a face and share a last name, but
We are not the same.”
He heard a sniffle from his right, and looked over his shoulder to see Tigris silently crying. Then he looked around the hospital and realized that it wasn’t just Tigris who was crying. No, all of the nursing staff was. The audience on the screen was crying and that’s when he saw her donations. He was so focused on her that he didn’t even realize that her donations were way past 1,000. The singing had worked. She had gotten the hearts of the Capital, of Panem.
“Scattered 'cross my family line
I'm so good at telling lies
That came from my mother's side
Told a million to survive
Scattered across my family line
God, I have my father's eyes
But my sister's when I cry
I can run, but I can't hide
From my family line
From my family line.”
“Well, ding, ding, ding! We have reached a record high donations for the evening. See what happens when you do stuff?” Lucky joked, walking back into frame, quickly wiping his tears. Rosalie Jade wearily smiled at him, wiping the stray tear that had fallen from her cerulean, doe eyes.
“Now I don’t love your odds, but may they be ever in your favor.” Lucky told her as he pulled her into a gentle hug that Rosalie Jade visibly relaxed into. She needed a good hug and the last time she was given one, she had watched her mentor be blown away from her.
Don’t touch her.
He let her go and flicked a coin into the air, stating, “I’m Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, the Capitol’s weathercaster and amateur magician. This was the first ever Hunger Games: Tribute Interview.” He finished, catching the coin, and then the screen went black.
“Thank you for being here. Both of you.” Coriolanus told Tigris and Sejanus, which was answered with Tigris giving Coriolanus a light reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and Sejanus saying, “Of course, it’s what friends are for.”
Coriolanus just ignored the friend's part because he was thinking about how he needed to pay his little sister a quick visit, as well as the newly destroyed arena.
“Rosalie Jade!” Coriolanus called out, softly.
“Rosie Jay!” He called again, but for no one to come out. He went to call out again, only to see something move in the darkness in the cage.
Oh thank God.
“Coryo! Oh, you’re safe!” She whispered, quickly coming over to him and reaching her hands through to take his. He saw how her hands had some burns on them, but they seemed to have been treated with something.
“Yes, yes I am. Here I have something for you,” He told her, keeping one of his hands in hers and the other to pull out his mother’s compact, “Here, take this for the arena. It was my mother’s. I wanted you to have it so you can have something to remember me with. It always calms me down when I have something to look at that was someone’s who loved me.”
She smiled, but shook her head, “Thank you, Coryo. But I can't, it's too fine.”
“Please, take it. I will feel better knowing that you have this on you,” He told her, but quickly realized that she wouldn’t take it because she didn't want to take it from him forever, “Think of it on loan. When you get out of that arena after winning, you can give it back to me, ok?” He told her, trying to change her decision. He just wanted something that she could remember their mother by.
“Besides, you can use it to help yourself in the arena.” He told her, subtly shifting his eyes to the rat poison that was within reach to her and her slim arms.
She looked him in the eyes and nodded, getting the hint. He continued to look at her, not wanting to leave her just yet. Not again. He had already lost his sister once, and he wasn’t going to lose her again.
“Is this real?” He asked, eyes starting to water at the thought of losing her.
She nodded her head, “Yes, Coryo. This is real.” She might have meant it in a different way than Coriolnaus, but right now, he didn’t care.
“Listen to me. I went back into the arena and looked around. The bombs completely destroyed it, meaning you have more places to hide. There is a vent system underground that you can hide in, it’s near the back right hand side of the arena. Get there by yourself, alone. Promise me. Promise me that you will get to safety the second that bell rings.” He asked her, to which she hesitantly nodded.
He grabbed her head and kissed her forehead, whispering, “I promise that I am going to get you out of the arena alive, back to your family, safe.” Which family that was, well she didn't need to now.
She just hugged him back and they stayed like that until he had to leave.
“I'll see you soon, my Little Dove.” He told her, walking into the darkness of the night.
“Alright, everyone, smile. It’s why we have teeth!” Lucky yelled, energetically to all the mentors.
Coriolanus just sat in his chair, anxiously. He was watching as all the tributes were walking into the arena. He watched as Wovey took Rosalie Jade’s hand, comforting her. How they smiled at each other only to be ripped away from each other by Peacekeepers.
“Ok, we are going live in 10, 9, 8…” Lucky told everyone, but Coriolanus was too concentrated on Rosalie Jade, who was walking up to her spot.
“Hello. I am Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, your Capitol news weathercaster and amateur magician. And I am very pleased to tell you that I am hosting the Hunger Games for the very first time. Exciting, right! Now, cameras have been placed inside of the arena so we can get all of the action!” He said, happily talking to the camera while he flipped a coin into the air, catching it after her finished talking. He then pulled out an envelope, stating, “Here in this envelope, I have predicted the winner of this year's Hunger Games and I will reveal it after the winner is announced.”
10
9
“Oh, it's starting! Let's watch together, shall we?” He quickly said, allowing the camera to go off of him and transfer to the cameras in the arena.
6
5
Coriolanus had one and only one thought when he heard that bell ring.
3
2
1
May the 10th Annual Hunger Games begin.
RING!
Run.
Next Chapter
#dark!coriolanus snow#yandere coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x y/n#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#Coriolanus Snow x OC#Coriolanus x OC
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