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megalony · 25 days ago

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Valuable To The Emperor

Here is a new Emperor Geta imagine, requested by my lovely @missdreamofendless I hope you will like it.

Thank you for all the lovely feedback on my first Geta imagine, I am in the process of writing a few more for him as I am hooked. Please let me know what you think.

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Summary: When certain people from (Y/n)'s past begin to notice how much she means to the Emperor, they start to wonder what he might pay if she were to be taken. When the Emperor finds out, he is less than pleased.

Enjoy.

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With her hands curled around Geta's arm, (Y/n) leaned into his side as they approached the home in front of them.

She had never been here before. In all truth, there were many fine places in Rome that (Y/n) had never had a chance to go or be invited to. And with her humble, broken background, being invited to a Senate's home was never something (Y/n) had been given the pleasure to do and it wasn't something she ever thought would happen to her.

Her eyes took in the fine art that decorated the hall when they were welcomed through the doors. The art was something to take her mind off the desperate urge within her to shrink towards the back of the floodwave.

(Y/n) didn't feel worthy of this, of walking by the side of an Emperor.

Even the concubines and women of the night who often kept Caracalla company weren't walking by his side. They were more towards the back, walking behind the other Senates who were entering this home and the few Generals and high lords and ladies of court who had been invited.

But any thought (Y/n) had of shrinking away was vanquished when she felt Geta's hands move. He kept his left elbow bent so (Y/n) could keep hold of his arm, but he moved his left hand to grip one of (Y/n)'s hands.

His eyes cast down in her direction and the smirk that flooded his face was enough to make (Y/n)'s knees quiver beneath her gown. She loved the way those reddened lips curved and contrasted to the paleness of his face. She loved how his eyes would crease and zoom in on whatever he was studying and if it happened to be (Y/n) that he was focusing on, (Y/n) felt humbled and unworthy all at once.

His thumb stroked along the back of her hand as they walked through the marbled hall adoned with a few statues that (Y/n) guessed were of the Senate's family members. Their faces didn't resemble any of the great leaders of Rome and (Y/n), despite her background, had studied hard. It was one of the things that helped her gain what little power she now had.

Her attention was stolen away from the artwork to glance at the other Emperor who had quickened his steps to follow their host.

There was a skip in Caracalla's step and he seemed to be in one of his more joyeous moods. Being close to Geta meant (Y/n) was privy to information that was otherwise unknown to the people of Rome. She knew about Caracalla's ailment and how it would cause lapses in judgement and changes in mood. She knew it also tended to cause blemishes on his skin which was why he tended to wear make up more heavily than his brother.

Sometimes it was sad to bear witness to, but seeing Caracalla in one of his good moods like this was always endearing.

He had a certain stride in his pace and his back was straight as he followed through to the chamber that adjoined and led towards the garden.

"This should be entertaining." The way Geta leaned down and whispered the words against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear made her shiver and smile to herself. She wasn't sure whether he was referring to the gathering that they were attending, or his brother's attitude, but it didn't really matter.

She agreed with Geta on all counts.

The room they walked into was spacious and looked out onto the garden. There were many open windows and large doorways to let the natural light pour in and there was a table set up with delicacies and various vases of flowers and vines and roses dotted around.

"This way, my Emperors." The senate had a rather nervous smile and he seemed to (Y/n) like one of those people who would do anything to please the highest bidder in the room.

He ushered his arm towards the left corner of the room where there was a large lounge sofa laid beneath the high window where more light was streaming beautifully into the room. Small fires were lit in either corner to cast more light and give off heat where the cold dwelled along the old stone walls and it gave off a cosy effect.

(Y/n) wasn't sure where to move or what to do with herself, but she didn't have to worry. As soon as Caracalla placed himself on the right corner of the sofa, Geta followed suit and he didn't tear away from (Y/n). He barely moved an inch without her, making sure she kept up her pace walking beside him.

Geta gracefully sat down beside his brother and his head tilted up so his eyes could follow (Y/n), making sure she sat alongside him. There didn't look to be much space left for (Y/n) to sit down alongside the Emperors and she briefly debated where to sit as others filtered into the room.

One of Caracalla's concubines sat on the floor right beside him with her cheek resting on his thigh. A few other women stood behind the sofa and leered over like they were posing for a portrait and (Y/n) noticed one of them leaning over the arm rest to be closer to Caracalla. She was practically sitting on the armrest.

(Y/n) thought it would be safer to sit beside Geta in the small space he was clearly glancing at to make sure she stayed right by his side. She couldn't perch on the arm rest like the other woman was doing, it wasn't proper. Nobody should sit higher than the Emperors.

Once she was sat down between Geta and the armrest, Geta crossed one leg over the other and leaned back. He spread his right arm out along the back of the sofa and rested his hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder. His touch was delicate and so light that (Y/n) could barely even feel it, but the sensation of his fingertips lightly skimming across her arm was soothing.

She allowed herself to recline back just a little so she was leaning against his arm but still sitting straight to keep her manners. Her hands rested on her lap and she began tapping her fingers against her thighs to try and keep herself calm and content.

She never knew what to do with herself at events like these.

(Y/n) wasn't one of the ladies who were currently draped around the sofa like rolls of silk. She wasn't someone who hung around the Emperors for favours or money or to provide services.

She was someone who had scraped her way up through the classes to make something of herself. Someone who had nothing when she ventured to Rome, the same as both Emperors when they were children.

Geta saw that in her. He saw that part of himself that he wanted to forget, the part that had done everything to protect his twin and get them away from the gutter and the abuse they had suffered. He saw how hard (Y/n) fought for what she had and what she wanted and it was something that he could relate to. Something Geta wanted to worship.

What they had was something Geta wanted to protect at all costs. He had found someone other than his brother to love and protect in (Y/n) and he wanted her by his side at all times.

It was what set her apart from the other women who trailed along behind them like the women crowded around them right now. They were play-things to have around, they weren't loved or worshipped or protected and adored.

They weren't the one that Geta wanted to make his Empress.

His fingers continued their administration across (Y/n)'s shoulder while his other hand tapped against his knee like he was counting or keeping track of something. It made him look unamused but the small smile tugging at his lips showed he was pleased.

"What have you planned for our amusement?" The hint in Geta's voice gave away that he had an idea of what might have been concocted to please them. It would be something to do with the games that were install over the upcoming days, he was sure of that.

"My reigning champion, Emperor, against the barbarian."

Geta quirked a brow and nodded and from the quiet whispers he could hear murmuring around the room, he figured this had been planned quite suddenly. He could hear bets being placed on who would be the victor. Geta didn't like betting the odds. It didn't amuse him as much as being in the colosseum did because then, he had true power.

Betting meant taking the risk of losing, but in the colosseum, the people looked to him- and Caracalla- for verdicts. They wanted to see if their Emperors would be generous or ruthless, to see whether they would execute or let the gladiators live another day.

Holding life and death in the palm of his hand, that was true power, and that was what Geta loved to toy with. Just like a predator who stalked his prey and toyed with it before going for the kill.

(Y/n) stole her eyes around the room, taking in the other people who were rather crowded all around the room. People were stood with glasses of wine, others were picking at the fruits, sweet meats and delicacies laid out on the table at the far end. And some were simply gossiping. There were lots of people and a few faces looked familiar, but (Y/n) didn't have time to look around them all.

She felt the way Geta perked up beside her and sat forward when the two fighters were brought into the centre of the room. They scuffed along the cold stone floor, kicking flecks of sand and dirt up in their wake and their eyes were looking one another up and down, sizing up their enemy. Although (Y/n) could tell one fighter looked rather reluctant to be in this position. Maybe it was his first fight. Maybe he wasn't equipped to yield a weapon.

Just as their host stepped forward to announce the fight, Caracalla burst to his feet. He wanted to make this interesting. If he was watching a fight, he wanted one that would rise gossip and be worth their time. What good was a fight unless it was a fight to the death?

"A fight! A fight to the death! There shall be only one victor." Caracalla's voice boomed around the room and echoed off the large walls and the high ceiling. And the smile on his face was positively crooked. His teeth flashed through his smile, giving view of the golden tooth that sparkled in the same way his ruffled hair did and the open-mouthed grin gave away just a hint of devilish insanity.

He stepped forward from the sofa, moving his arms as if to make sure everyone understood he was being serious, but nobody seemed to have a response for him.

Not until the barbarian's master began to clap to show his approval and a smile filtered across Geta's lips.

He removed his arm from around (Y/n)'s shoulders so he too could rise to his feet and he placed his hand on his brother's shoulder to show his support. Geta reeled his twin into his side as if to tame him and make sure he didn't get too over excited.

(Y/n) watched the way Geta turned to face their host, an elder man who's hair was thinning him to the brink of being bald and his gaunt, hollow face had turned a rather worrying shade of pale grey. He didn't suit the colourless complexion, not like the Emperors did. They added no colour to their cheeks, in fact they painted their faces white as if to abolish any hint of a healthy glow and it only made them look more regal. At least in (Y/n)'s humble opinion.

She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from Geta. Confidence rolled off of him in waves. Everyone knew he was the highest ranking person in the room, everyone saw that he possessed all the control and the atmosphere. If he smiled they would smile, if he grew angry then the crowd would follow his emotions.

The way Geta leaned forward towards his host showed just how much power he had. Someone wealthy and elder and experienced like him was shrinking away from a younger man who had been in control less than half this man's lifespan.

"What do you say? Are you prepared to bet the life of your victor?" Geta's voice was silky smooth and the crooked smile on his curved lips made (Y/n)'s heart jump into her throat.

She watched his head angle to one side like his neck had snapped and his eyes creased when their host nodded furiously.

"Of course. A fight to the death." He rose his voice to make the announcement, as if the room hadn't already heard the exclaim from one of the Emperors. And he waved his hand towards the guards, demanding that they arm the fighters.

If it was a fight to the death and blood was to be spilled, they needed weapons. Bare fists would take too much time and wouldn't create as much gore as everyone in the room was now pining for.

Both Emperors moved to sit back down and once Geta was beside her, (Y/n) leaned across to rest her hand on his shoulder. She squeezed lightly and felt encouraged by how quickly Geta moved a hand over to hold hers. He leaned his cheek against her arm as he lightly swayed from side to side, eager for the fight to begin so he could see some bloodshed and feel bursts of adrenaline liven his system.

(Y/n) began to glide her thumb across Geta's shoulder while they watched both men be handed swords.

She found it funny how the one labelled as the barbarian seemed to be bartering with the other man. He was trying to dissuade him from going through with it. Either he was pompous enough to believe he could easily win this fight or he didn't believe he had the capability to best his opposer.

Bargaining wouldn't do him any good. If he refused he would likely be punished or sent to the colosseum to be slaughtered. He had a higher percentage of dying than making it through the fight.

"I don't like the victor's chances," (Y/n) murmured into Geta's ear once the fight began.

The victor was older and he was sloppy with his movements, he wasn't the one (Y/n) would bet to win this fight.

"Nor do I."

The fight rose on and (Y/n) liked how both Emperors would lean to one side or straighten up and move along with the fighters. Each time they jumped to one side or clattered their swords and fell to the floor, the Emperors would move too like they were experiencing the fight themselves.

When the barbarian's sword was knocked beneath a table out of his reach, Geta leaned to the right and dragged his hand along (Y/n)'s thigh. He leaned closer until his head was almost laid on her chest and his left hand moved to graze along his chin and mouth, obscuring his smile as he watched the fight intently. The way he hunched forward made Geta look like a predator stalking his prey, as if he were about to pounce and join in the fight himself and it made (Y/n) smile.

Her eyes left the fight in favour of watching the Emperor who was almost laying across her lap. Her eyes focused on his hair that was almost set alight like flickering flames in the midday sun and the gold crown sunk beneath each tendril of hair was sparkling and glimmering like it was melting into his flock of hair.

(Y/n) couldn't help herself. She couldn't refrain from moving her hand across from Geta's shoulder until her fingertips were grazing along the back of his neck. She felt the way his skin shivered beneath her touch and when she dragged her nail up his neck and wove her fingers into his hair, he shuddered and fought the urge to close his eyes and groan.

He inclined his head back into her touch, loving how she tangled her fingers into his hair like she was either trying to scratch his scalp or carefully remove the crown from his head.

Her touch was enough to send him wild. No one else could have this affect on Geta.

He allowed his eyes to tear away from the fight that was starting to become interesting so he could sneak a glance behind him. His eyes caught (Y/n)'s and his grin widened before he was looking back to the fight when one of them crashed into a few of the guests near the far table.

Geta's hand tightened around (Y/n)'s thigh and he let out a laugh that was like melodic music to her ears. That was the trouble with fighting in such a small place like this which could not compare to the colosseum, there was very little room when fighting for one's life. Spectators were going to get caught in the middle if they were stood too close.

Geta liked that; he found it amusing that people were getting close enough to be caught in the way. Although he was glad that they were over here. He knew none of the guards would allow the fight to become too close to either Emperor or their guests surrounding them on the sofa. He wouldn't want to have to brandish a sword himself and end the fight, or fend either fighter off if they came to close to (Y/n).

He would do anything to protect her.

"Is that her? (Y/n)? Sat with the Emperor."

Could it be her? Could that be the girl they knew? The one who had lived on the outskirts of Rome with them, dreaming of a better life. Dreaming to be in the centre of things, to be allowed to have what was owed to them for all the hardships each of them had been burdened with from the beginning.

Could that be the girl who had fought to claw her way out of the gutter and earn her way in the world and earn herself a better life.

Had the Emperor truly taken that same girl under his wing? How could she be over there, and the rest of them be over here?

How could they be on opposite sides when they had all but grown up together, when they came from the same place?

"People say she is to be the new Empress."

The group of three spoke in hushed whispers, speaking around goblets of wine in a quiet corner to dispell any prying ears from listening to their contemplations. If that was the girl they had grown up with, then none of this was fair. They were skulking in the corner, unknown and already long forgotten by the peers around them. But (Y/n) was over there, being held and embraced by the Emperor as if she were already his better half.

She came from the same place as them. When (Y/n) left her hardships behind and found her way to Rome, she became one of them. She worked with them, she had sewn clothes and paid her way in the world and tried to learn to better herself.

But none of them had managed to make something of themselves. None of them were privy to the palace or being in the eyesight of either Emperor. How was that fair that she was over there, and they were stuck here?

"That makes her valuable to the Emperor… I wonder, what a man like that would pay for her safe return, if she were to be taken."

It was a bold presumption and a risky thought. If she were as close to the Emperor as she clearly seemed to be, that made her worthy and valuable of something. The Emperor was clinging to her. He had a possessive hand on her and he was leaning into her side and laughing at whatever she could whisper in his ear. That made her valuable to him. And the Emperors were the highest authority in Rome which came with the most riches in their great city.

They had the wealth to pay a high sum if anything were to happen to someone they cared for. Someone they loved.

"If she is to be Empress, he would be willing to pay a high sum for her to be returned unharmed… untouched."

***

Raised voices blurred and rose higher throughout the dark halls. The sound of boots hitting the stone floor echoed through the damp halls.

(Y/n)'s bleary eyes tried to open and adjust to the moonlight seeping through her room. She tried to make sense of the distant noises she could hear, wondering if this was another late night meeting or if there was possibly something wrong with Caracalla. There was a physician who lived at the Palace strictly to see to both Emperor's health and to treat any ailments they had.

Sometimes Caracalla's changing moods could turn into outbursts during the night, especially if he was paranoid.

(Y/n) pushed herself to sit up and her head inclined to one side as she tried to focus on what she could hear. The sounds were becoming distant and retreating which made her shoulders relax with relief. But the sudden jostling of her chamber door made her heart palpitate with fright and try to burst out of her chest.

Her shoulders hunched forward and her right hand scurried beneath her pillow, desperately trying to reach for the blade she always had with her for emergencies. The golden blade with studded red gems studded into the handle.

A gift from Geta.

He trusted the guards in the palace to protect all within it, but that didn't mean he wasn't opposed to some extra protection. The guards couldn't prevent any and every attack and possibility and when Geta brought (Y/n) to live at the palace, he gave her the blade.

It wouldn't do their reputations any good if they shared a room, and (Y/n) had worked hard for the reputation and status she had. She couldn't throw it away and have people claim her to be one of the mistresses or whores that frequented the palace. Not when that wasn't what she was and when Geta never saw her that way.

He wanted to marry her, he had been setting the plans in motion already and as soon as that was done, there would be nothing stopping either of them from sharing a room. And being together at every moment of the day.

(Y/n)'s fingers curled around the grooves of the blade and she whipped it from beneath the pillow, brandishing it in front of her just as the door to her chamber opened. She threw the sheets to one side and bolted to her feet, wielding the blade with determination and a firm arm locked in front of herself protectively. She may never have taken a life before, but (Y/n) knew how to arm and protect herself. Growing up in hardships and living on the outskirts of Rome, she had to defend herself somehow.

Deep breaths heaved past her lips when the dim light from the hallway flickered into her room and created an aura around the guard who blundered over the threshold and stumbled into her room.

A guard. In the middle of the night. Something had to be wrong.

"Lady (Y/n), will you come with me please?" The guard gasped like he had been running through the palace and the way he glanced around showed he knew it was improper to burst into her room like this. He knew the consequences of this, he knew how the Emperor would react if he found out. That much told (Y/n) that something had to be very wrong for this guard to burst in like this and try to usher her somewhere in the middle of the night.

"What's happened?"

"You need to see the Emperor my lady." That didn't sound pleasing. The tone of the guard's voice implied he was panicked and (Y/n) wondered if he truly understood what was going on or if he was simply following higher orders.

She wanted to refuse, she wanted to defy and stay here where she was enclosed and safe, but she couldn't. Sitting in her room and waiting was only going to double her worries and make her unsettled and it would enrage her curiosity.

The blade stayed firmly in (Y/n)'s grip as she tossed the sheets to one side and reached out for the gown draped over the back of the chair in the corner of the room.

Her eyes stayed on the guard, watching him closely as she shrugged on her gown and pulled it tight. She had no reason not to trust any of Geta's guards, but growing up in hardships had made (Y/n) wary of trusting anyone, even those seemingly here to protect her. The only person she could truly rely on was Geta. He was the only one she would trust.

Her fingers twitched around the handle of the blade that tapped against her thigh and when she advanced towards the guard, she nodded. She would follow him and find Geta. They had to know what was going on.

Her other arm wove around her waist, keeping her gown tightly pinned across her front and it helped her to remain calm and keep her back straight as she walked. (Y/n) suddenly wished she had stopped for a pair of sandals when she hurried into the hall and the soles of her warm feet hit the frozen stone floor.

It felt horrid to pad across the floor and jog down the dark winding stairs that were so cold it was like walking on a frozen river during winter. Each step was covered in flecks of dust and the soles of (Y/n)'s feet began to turn numb as she passed down the stairs.

At least with nothing on her feet, her steps were almost silent. No one would hear her coming, although they would undoubtedly hear the harsh, flat-footed steps of the guard in front of her. And his armour clattered and rattled with each hurried step he took.

The palace looked different in the dead of night. (Y/n) had often thought this, but as she headed down the corridor that was oddly silent, everything looked and felt unfamiliar. The shadows were murkier and seemed to grow tenfold during the night.

The walls stretched and the ceilings rose higher until she felt no taller than a mouse. The corridors dragged on into miles and (Y/n) felt disorientated in the dim light provided by the torches scattered along the walls.

Even the main hall looked strange when she followed the guard through the large oak doors and into the spacious room.

The tappestries lining the walls looked like dark omens threatening war and doom and with the light breeze fluttering through the open windows, they came to life. The gliding movements of the woven threads made them sway and made the animals bare their jaws and come alive in the most monstrous ways.

Everything looked worse in the darkness. (Y/n) found herself clutching the blade of her weapon tighter to her side and her other arm pinned into her waist like she was trying to give herself a comforting hug to dispell her unease.

Just as the uncomfortableness started to take over, (Y/n) looked ahead of her towards the other entrance to the main hall.

Geta. He burst through the doors like a storm raging war on the world. His bright flamed hair was askew in all directions, set alight by the dim glow of the torches around the room. His complexion was no longer deathly pale with no hint of colour or life but was now a pale shade of cream with just the slightest hint of pink to his cheeks and beneath his eyes.

But his expression was maddening. Those dark eyes were blazing with fury and narrowed like he was scrutinising the room for something. His nose was crinkled and his lips were parted as he ploughed towards the centre of the room.

He too was barefoot against the stone floor which was seemingly making him shiver and he had one hand deadlocked around his red and golden robes to keep them around his frame.

It made (Y/n) wonder if he wore anything beneath the robe or if he was as bare as the day he was born. The way he scrunched it up around his chest suggested he was bare and it was clear he had been woken up in haste the same as (Y/n).

She shook her head to rid the shameful thoughts from her mind and focused on watching Geta.

His sights set on the head of his guardsmen first, noting that the other man was stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a stoic expression on his face.

"What is the meaning of this?" There was anger laced into his voice but when Geta turned his head, a slither of confusion pooled within his eyes.

(Y/n) had been woken too. Why was she here? When there were urgent matters of state, it was the Emperors who were woken and very few else in the palace. One or two servants and messengers if the Senates needed advising or informing about something, but that was it. All others weren't bothered during the night like this, so for (Y/n) to be here it meant this was something very serious, or it had something to do with her too.

"What is this?" There was a desperate, whining tone to Caracalla's voice as he traipsed into the hall behind his twin, stomping one foot down while his hands balled into fists at his sides.

He didn't like being woken up during the dead of night like this, much less being dragged from his bed- and the women who accompanied him- for reasons unknown to seemingly everyone here.

Caracalla's hair was ruffled, his eyes were worn and tired and his expression was taut as he gruffly walked until he was stood close beside his brother. Turning his head from side to side to try and get someone to explain what was going on or let him go back to bed.

Geta looked between the guards that were filtering into the room like they were preparing for an attack or preparing to encircle around the Emperors in case of an emergency. Whatever this was, Geta didn't like it.

The moment he waved his hand towards (Y/n) to beckon her closer to him, she obliged. She sidestepped the guard who had woken her up and moved to stand with Geta instead. He made her feel better, he stopped her from panicking and calmed her down.

She let his hands find her shoulders and turn her so she was stood directly in front of him and his hands curled and tightened around her flesh like he was making sure she wouldn't dare take one step away from him. She let herself lean back into his chest a little while Geta tilted his head down and pressed a flushed kiss to the top of her head.

"Explain." One word was enough to make the guards shiver and nod and the guard in charge motioned his hands towards the opposite side of the room.

The hall was dark enough that none of them had noticed the presence of other people along with them in the room.

Both (Y/n) and Geta whipped their heads to the left at the sound of footsteps approaching and they watched as two guards pushed three figures forward, stepping out of the shadows. All three figures had their wrists and ankles in shackles, preventing any quick escapes which implied that they were prisoners of some sort. But Geta had no idea who they were.

"We caught these people trying to gain entrance to the palace and heard them plotting, Emperors." The guard lowered his gaze as he spoke, it seemed that most of the guards who worked in the palace never wanted to look either Emperor in the eye. It was too unsettling and provoking.

"Plotting what-"

"To slay us?!" Caracalla's outburst caught all of them by surprise and (Y/n) shuddered back against Geta.

She felt his hands begin to smooth up and down her shoulders and arms to try and soothe her and he kissed her head again, hastily, before he let her go. He sidestepped to the right and expertly grabbed his brother before Caracalla had the chance to rush forward and try his luck brandishing a weapon to attack the perpetrators.

Both Geta's arms circled around his brother's waist and he reeled him back into his chest while Caracalla shouted and thrashed to try and be let loose. He would show them. He would unleash Hell if they had been plotting against him and his brother.

With a deep, rumbling sigh, Geta twisted his brother to the side and muttered 'calm brother,' in his ear to try and lessen his rage. Geta was used to the outbursts. He was the only one who could talk any sense into his brother and calm him down from his fits of rage.

He glanced from his brother who was taking heaving breaths and glaring holes into the enemy across from them. And he looked back to the guard, silently demanding he continue to explain what exactly that woman and those two men had been plotting to do.

"No, Emperor, they were trying to find Lady (Y/n)'s quarters." The guard seemed very nervous to speak, rightfully so. He knew just how his words would rile up one of the Emperors and when he looked over at Geta, he saw the fury boiling over in his eyes.

Geta's arms removed from around his brother who had gone from enraged to confused. His chest heaved and his darkened eyes looked between these people and (Y/n).

Why would they plot to find her room? What did they want with her? How did they know her- did they even know her, or was this some pitiful game to them that they were playing? What possible reason could they have to go after (Y/n) and try to cause chaos by finding her in the palace?

Fury dwelled deep within Geta's gut and simmered inside his chest that started to heave as he stepped away from his brother and moved to stand beside (Y/n) once again. His hands curled around her arms and his chest pressed flush against her back while his eyes narrowed on the three men stood ahead of them.

There looked to be nothing special about them. Nothing regal. Their clothes suggested they weren't Generals or Lords or of any value in high society, they weren't from the upper classes. They were clearly no one special because Geta couldn't place their faces; if he had seen them before it had been brief, in passing.

"You know them?" Geta's hollow voice whispered into (Y/n)'s ear and he kept his lips tickling the shell of her ear with his cheek pressing against the side of her head. He pulled her back against his chest, keeping her moulded up against him in hopes that it would help in somehow protecting her and keeping her safe.

He felt the shivers that coursed through (Y/n)'s blood and made her raise her left hand to grip his wrist. When Geta looked down at her, it was as if he was looking at a ghost, a figment of his imagination with how still and shocked she seemed. She looked like she was about to fade before his eyes.

And when he looked down, something cut at his heart that was pounding against his ribcage when he noticed the blade in her right hand. She was gripping it so tightly that the circulation had to be cutting off towards her fingers and her grip made her hand begin to shake.

He traced his hand down from her arm towards her wrist and his fingertips ghosted over the back of her hand until he was holding onto her fingers. He gently uncurled them and slipped the blade from her now trembling hand, taking it so he could tuck it into one of the many pockets in his robe. She didn't need to arm herself any longer; he wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"I used to." Her voice was hollow and held no emotion but she could feel every thought raging through her head and every emotion dwelling in her blood until it felt like she was going to faint.

They were ghosts from a previous life.

People she used to know when she first found her feet on the outskirts of Rome. People who fought like (Y/n) to make their way into Rome, to escape their hardships and their past and make a new life for themselves.

They were people who wanted more, but people who wouldn't better themselves or fight hard enough to escape. They found lives on the outskirts and that had been enough for them. They didn't want the fresh start like (Y/n) did and once she fought to get her name and her place in the world, they made sure she knew she was no longer 'one of them'.

They were faces she never thought she would get to see again, people she never thought she would be around and who would want nothing to do with her even if they ever bumped into her again.

"Why would you come for her?" Caracalla angled his head to one side as he squinted at the group on the far side of the room. There was still an air of anger and madness surrounding his tone, despite the confusion pooling in his hazy blue eyes.

What was so special about (Y/n) that they would risk breaking into the palace to find her? To possibly try and take her?

The three of them seemed to share glances with each other. There was no point in trying to bargain or come up with a lie. The Emperors would see right through them. So would (Y/n). Telling the truth was their only option now, they knew that getting caught would seal their fate, but they took the risk anyway.

Both men shared glances with one another, wrangling with their shackles and stole glances at the accomplice who adverted her gaze to the ceiling, not willing to speak a word.

"To see how much you would offer for her safe return if she… disappeared." The shorter man arched a brow and let his head loll to one side but he chose his words carefully so the intent would be clear.

Doran's words made (Y/n)'s stomach churn and she tried to take a step back until she was flush against Geta's chest and she felt his hands glide down from her arms to hold her hips. As if he were keeping her in place and holding onto her to protect her. He would swiftly switch places and push (Y/n) behind him if either of those fiends tried to take one step towards her.

How could they do that? Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes that couldn't look anywhere but at the three people she used to know. They may have splintered off into different worlds, but (Y/n) bore no grudge against any of them. Why should they bear one against her?

If they wanted help all they had to do was ask. If they truly wanted to make their way in the city- something (Y/n) highly doubted- they could of asked and she would have helped them.

But to stoop so low as to try and kidnap her, to risk harming her in the process, and all for a great sum. It was despicable.

(Y/n) didn't want to contemplate what Geta would have done if they succeeded. She wouldn't want him to pay a price for her safe return, it would be too risky and it was demeaning. And she didn't know if Geta would pay a price, he wasn't the type to give in to demands no matter who was making them or what they were threatening him with. He would sooner gouge out his eyes than give in to someone's trivilous demands.

He might not have paid any sum at all for (Y/n). He might have become reckless and searched for her himself. He might have bartered his guards, promising them the reward if they found (Y/n) and took the heads of those who tried to harm her.

In truth, (Y/n) had no idea how Geta would react in a situation such as that and she had no desire to find out.

(Y/n) didn't realise she was crying until she felt one of Geta's hands reach up to brush away some of the tears now cascading down her features. His touch was gentle but the tremor to his hand showed the violence building up inside of him, threatening to spill over the edge.

Within moments, his hands left (Y/n)'s skin and his body was no longer wrapped around her like a protective suit of armour.

The rage within him simmered to the surface and the pale expanse of his neck strained and tensed as he stepped forward. He felt a sudden and great urge to lunge like a tiger prowling in the colosseum. Geta felt like bearing his fangs and sinking his teeth into their necks for what they had planned to do.

If they had somehow managed to get (Y/n) out of the palace and make demands for her safe return, Geta might have slipped into a worser state of madness than his brother.

"You think I would allow you to take her? That I value her as an object that I would pay to have returned to me?" The callous tone of Geta's voice made each of them look at him.

Both Emperors were known to be skittish and ruthless. They laughed when people were slain, even if it was their own people on their own streets of Rome. They thrived in madness and decay and they seemed to hold no one dear to them except for each other. And (Y/n).

Yes. Yes, the three of them truly believed they might be able to extortion something out of the Emperor if they took (Y/n) and were willing to give her back to him. They would have kept her relatively unharmed and sent her back to him without a bruise or a scratch if the price had been right. And they believed he might just have contemplated the bargain if they had managed to get to (Y/n) before they were discovered.

Well he wouldn't. Geta wouldn't pay any price to have (Y/n) back because she wasn't something to be bargained over. Geta would have scoured the streets himself to find her. He would have burned all of Rome to the ground before he gave one coin to anyone because he knew it wouldn't be likely that he would have found (Y/n) unharmed if he paid these Cretans for her.

And that would imply that Geta thought (Y/n) was worth a reasonable amount, that there was a right price to pay for her. There wasn't. No amount of money or gold would be enough to show how valuable and precious she was to him.

When Geta took a step closer to the three of them, close enough that they could see and feel each harsh, froffing breath he took, the guards stepped closer to. No one was sure whether they were trying to protect the Emperor, or save the fiends from their Emperor's wrath.

Geta's hands balled up into fists at his sides and his chest rumbled as his reddened features tensed and twisted into a malicious smirk.

"I deal in blood. And all of you are now in debt to me." He sneered through gritted teeth and a twisted smile as his head angled to one side. "You shall join the games tomorrow, I want your blood painting the walls of the colosseum. I want you torn limb from Limb."

For what they had done, they had made themselves in great debt to the Emperor, and Geta wasn't going to rest until all the blood was drained from their bodies and not even the greatest physician in Rome would be able to piece them back together.

#imagine #gladiator imagine #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator movie #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #geta x reader #geta imagine #joseph quinn

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hwaightme · 2 months ago

Text

03:10 AM

(masterlist)

🌃pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🌃genre: timestamp, comfort, healing, fluff 🌃summary: 3am, a time for overthinking. is love louder than your thoughts? 🌃wordcount: 1k 🌃warnings/tags: unedited, introspection, lack of confidence, two people in love, kissing, cute sleepy seonghwa, writer is rusty 🌃taglist: at the bottom. would love to add you if interested <3 🌃a/n: oh how i wish to write again, to pour words onto pages and let my heart bleed into the ink. this timestamp is mildly inspired by maro's 'we've been loving in silence'. sorry for rustiness, and any love is so appreciated...

Everyone is deserving of love. Love in all its shapes and colours. A love that looks like a tender conversation in a tiny kitchen, a love that looks like unstoppable laughter under the starry night sky, a love that looks like unwavering dedication and adoration even when it seems impossible. Every person is worthy of a love that makes their heart feel full while being fully aware of the world and all its complexities, shadows and anguish. A love that gives one hope.

Sometimes, this complicated feeling looks like speeding down the city streets as a salvation in the time of trouble. It could even look like a distraught, disjointed embrace accompanied by a cacophony of sobs and stuttered breaths. Love can look like feeling another’s pain, living through it as if it is one’s own. Love can mean heartbreak, over and over again until there is seemingly nothing left, and yet still the ground up powder of affection would be offered as a sacrifice to this mystery.

What is love to you?

You wonder, particularly on nights like this, when a blanket of calm covers the metropolis in which you found yourself, not too dissimilar to a shell being washed up on the shore to encounter a glorious, blazing sun. A twinkling magic on the other side of the glass greets you, and you rest a finger on the coolness, tracing distant shapes of building after building, only to haphazardly wipe it down with the edge of your sleeve. How did you end up in a place where you thought you would never be, feeling what you had sworn you would be unable to feel?

A gentle melancholy aches in your chest, etching the curves and edges of your ribcage, an incessant little bird, bubbling up that old sense of unease. What is this that you are living in? If you do not know, will it go away? The loud mind, an old friend and enemy, one which had accompanied you through all stages of your life, to find itself equally as bewildered as your heart, but a lot more terrified. Caught between bliss and a painful awareness of the unknown, you walk a tightrope blindfolded.

At least until a hand reaches out for you, warm, reassuring, and guides you across to an oasis. A beating heart, a familiar breath, palm pressed against your upper arm take you out of your spiralling musings, and beckon you to look in the direction of a soft, barely audible whisper of ‘my love’.

You turn to meet Seonghwa’s eyes, endless pools of glistening brown sugar, enough to both extinguish and ignite, turn dark to light and wrong to right. A timeless poetry is in his face, the rhythm of his features casting a spell over you as you glance over them. These sleepy eyes, stunning nose and cheeks that bear a pinkish hue, plush lips caught in a miniscule pout, dishevelled hair that you know your boyfriend tried to tame, to no avail. You turn your body to meet him fully, and fall into his arms. They envelop you tightly, and you inhale the ghostly remnants of his cologne, a tantalising note of his, and your favourite shampoo, all intricately blended with fabric softener and cotton - put simply, you are home.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, hm?” he asks, voice still a little raspy. It must have been only minutes since he woke up to find you.

��I’m sorry… Did I wake you?”

“Mm… no. Your absence woke me up,” you could cry, not that you would say it, or rather have to say it. Seonghwa knows how his words affect you anyways, judging by the swift squeeze of his arms before he returns to slowly rocking side to side.

“I just had a lot of thoughts. Wanted to get rid of them somehow.”

“Want to talk about them?”

You are not sure if you would be able to summon enough courage to talk about what is plaguing you, at least now, in the semi-darkness of yours and his apartment, you feel far too fragile to look inside of the boxes you keep shuffling. Unbeknownst to yourself, you begin to bite your lower lip, trying to pick the right words. Any attempt to formulate whatever excuse you have been seeking inevitably fails as Seonghwa’s lips find yours, erasing your habit, erasing your worry. Caught off-guard, a quiet gasp escapes you, only to be rewarded by an airy chuckle.

“So… not talking, then?” you press your face into the crook of his neck, sensing heat rising on your cheeks.

“You surprised me, is all…” you trail off, slowly guiding yourself upwards, but still being unable to meet Seonghwa’s gaze.

“I’ll happily kiss all your worries away, if that’s what it takes,” his tone is humorous, and the phrase is light-hearted. His glances into your eyes, at your lips, at the strands of hair that you know he will adjust for you like he usually does, holding promise and commitment. If you so wish, he will. If you so want, he will. If you so will, he most definitely will.

Your hands grip onto his sleeping shirt as you mumble a thanks, inching closer until your timid smile melts into his. A pleasantly languid rhythm, a moonlit paradise, drawing a masterpiece with your bodies until you are struggling to breathe. An adorable exchange of sweet nothings as you fill your lungs with air, no distinction of space nor time while you are in this trouble-less duet. A small peck on Seonghwa’s lips prompts him to pull you in again, eyes fluttering shut as he floats, flies, soars in love with you. You swear you can see the stars while the taste of his cherry lip balm lingers.

As you follow him back to bed, sinking into the sheets with a sigh, inklings of somnolence settle over your slow-moving intertwined bodies. His breath turns steady, a comforting rise and fall against your back. Seonghwa’s hand is over yours, thumb making random patterns on your skin.

“Dream of me,” he says against your shoulder, grinning when he hears your sharp exhale.

This, this is love to you.

🌃taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @marsstarxhwa @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.

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bbkoolkatz · 28 days ago

Text

𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖓!

comment to be added to the taglist for this story!

»»————> presenting;

pairing: barbarian!prince! Katsuki Bakugo x chief!daughter! reader.

synopsis: an arranged marriage to the prince of the barbarian clan to save your kingdom from being wiped out... cliche innit. stem's off the MHA fantasy au!

content warnings: FEMALE READER! strangers to lovers! slow burn! MHA fantasy AU! adult themes! arranged marriage! sexual content! rough n gruff Katsuki! mentions of blood in a lot of scenes! rituals! dub-con in some scenes! (for caution, because y'all can't understand each other) if u're religious, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!! angst! fluff! smut! WARNINGS APPLY TO ALL CHAPTERS!!! and are there to exercise caution!

updated on Wednesdays and Saturdays!

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊↓; 2.5k+ words

»»————> LORE! [you can continue without reading all this]

the barbarian clan is known for conquering any village, kingdom and/or empire. they are brutes, usually settling anything by waging war and desecrating the land.

the barbarians speak in old Norse! conversing is difficult...

Katsuki is the only son and prince of the barbarian clan.

barbarians are stronger and bigger in size than regular humans.

your kingdom is ruled by your father—called cheif instead of king—who's a big softy and doesn't see the point in things like war... he prefers to talk things out and leave casualties to a zero. even if that means marrying off his only daughter...

you are the only daughter of your father which only makes you more precious and worthy of bearing the heir of both your kingdom and their clan.

tetsugami; a huge, semi intelligent crab. [there are few now as people have hunted them down to the double digits.]

crimson dragons; giant flying lizards. [they are very friendly despite their mean looking faces & their scales are extremely valuable.]

(more coming soon)

Old Norse Alphabet;

1. A/a- Pronunciation: ah as in "father."

2. B/b- Pronunciation: b as in "bed."

3. D/d- Pronunciation: d as in "dog."

4. Ð/ð (called eth)- Pronunciation: Soft th as in "this."

5. E/e- Pronunciation: eh as in "bed."

6. F/f- Pronunciation: f as in "fox." Between vowels, pronounced as v.

7. G/g- Pronunciation: g as in "go." After certain vowels, it softens to a y sound.

8. H/h- Pronunciation: h as in "house."

9. I/i- Pronunciation: ee as in "see."

10. J/j- Pronunciation: y as in "yes."

11. K/k- Pronunciation: k as in "king."

12. L/l- Pronunciation: l as in "lamp."

13. M/m- Pronunciation: m as in "man."

14. N/n- Pronunciation: n as in "name."

15. O/o- Pronunciation: aw as in "law."

16. P/p- Pronunciation: p as in "pen."

17. R/r- Pronunciation: Rolled r, like in Spanish or Italian.

18. S/s- Pronunciation: s as in "see."

19. T/t- Pronunciation: t as in "top."

20. U/u- Pronunciation: oo as in "moon."

21. V/v- Pronunciation: Often interchangeable with f, pronounced like English v.

22. Y/y- Pronunciation: Similar to ee but with rounded lips, like French u in lune.

23. Þ/þ (called thorn)- Pronunciation: Hard th as in "thorn."

24. Æ/æ- Pronunciation: ai as in "air."

25. Ö/ö- Pronunciation: ur as in "bird" (without the r).

M-LIST!

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3.5 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3.5

marriage. the best thing that could ever happen to a girl. all your life, you'd imagined being a bride; delicately decorating your hair with wild tulips, adorning your body in silver and white silk. spending the rest of your life with the person you love most.

now you're here, kneeling in front of a bonfire beside a complete stranger, cloaked in boar fur and animal skeletons, as the thick, warm blood of a lamb is poured over you. your marriage ceremony... filled with unfamiliar faces—including your now-husband—and traditions. drinking, dancing, and celebrating the union.

"nú ger hana konu þína!" a spiked-blonde woman, with an uncanny resemblance to the man kneeling beside you, announced, raising her hands in the air. you looked around confused as ever, as he leaned in, blood-stained fingers pulling you in by the back of your neck. your nose scrunched at the metallic taste of blood that his tongue shoved past your teeth. you push him away, gasping at the foreign feeling.

"hvat í helvíti, kona!?" he frowned, turning away from you, mumbling something under his breath, that you didn’t quite catch. not that you'd understand what he was carrying on about anyways...

the spiked-blonde woman—whom you guessed to be some sort of priestess or elder—shot you a sharp glare, her arms lowering slowly as she spoke in a hushed yet commanding tone. her words were incomprehensible to you, but the crowd seemed to murmur in agreement. your husband huffed, his frown deepening as he looked at you over his shoulder. you were kneeling there, with eyes pressing on you from all directions. the fire crackled in the silence, and the warmth of it did little to ease the chill settling in your chest.

two women approached you, their faces painted with intricate swirls of red and black. they tugged you to your feet without a word and began guiding you toward a tent decorated with bones, animal pelts, and dried herbs hanging from the entrance. inside, it was dimly lit by a few small lanterns. the air smelled of earth, smoke, and something sweet but unfamiliar.

they gestured for you to sit on a low stool and began pulling at your ceremonial garb, their movements quick but not unkind. your protests fell on deaf ears as they stripped you of the heavy fur cloak, wiping the blood from your skin with damp cloths. one of them muttered something, shaking her head as she scrubbed at your face. it was clear they didn't understand you either, but their disapproving looks were universal.

by the time they were finished, you were dressed in a simpler gown of rough-spun fabric, a far cry from the silks you were used to and had imagined for your wedding night. the older of the two handed you a wooden cup filled with a thick, bitter scented liquid. she pointed to it, then your mouth, her expression stern. reluctantly, you sipped it, grimacing at the taste. the woman nodded, seemingly satisfied, before they left you alone in the tent.

you sat there, staring at your hands, trying to gather your thoughts, but instead, they drift back to just a few mere hours ago...

"arranged?" you seethed in disbelief, looking at your defeated father, seated across from you at the council table, surrounded by old wrinkled elders.

"yes, daughter," he affirmed, voice devoid of emotion. "war against the barbarian clan would destroy everything we've built—"

"so they made a proposal, a very very rare one," one of the wart ridden elders interrupted-

"to make an arrangement," another continued-

"one that cannot be broken once forged," -

"a marriage,"-

"your sacrifice would save us all, child," the eldest croaked, concluding the proposal, "and as the chief's daughter, it is your duty to your people." one after the other, they all slowly turned their heads toward you, kneeling at the center of their godforsaken grey gazes.

your eyes flickered between them, their crinkled foreheads making you feel sick to your stomach as their words wrung your heartstrings. "marriage is sacred... it can only happen once. i don't know this person that you'd like me to be bound to for the rest of my life..." you snarled, stating the very obvious to those expired raisins.

"i'm afraid you misunderstood us, girl," the eldest fumed, weakly slamming his fist down, "it is arranged. you will wed the heir of the barbarian clan. that is why you have been summoned." firmly raising from his seat to intimidate you.

"that is my daughter you're speaking to, elder... as old as you are, mind your tongue." your father shifted his attention to you. "unfortunately, he is right, my dear. it's already been arranged, and you are to be wed at sundown."

dumbfounded... that's the look on your face. they we're giving you away to complete strangers... and at sundown!? despite all the colorful words that wanted to fly out your mouth, you grit your teeth and settled with a curt nod. you do have a duty to your people.

though it wasn't supposed to happen like this. it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. you only get married once in your entire life after all.

the sound of heavy footsteps outside the tent snapped you out of your thoughts. the flap was pulled aside roughly, and your husband stepped in. his presence filled the small space, his broad shoulders and wild blonde hair almost brushing the top of the tent as his crimson eyes bore into you, a mixture of frustration and curiosity in his gaze.

he said something, his voice sharp and demanding, but you could only blink up at him in confusion. "i don't understand you," you said softly, shaking your head, as your voice trembled, despite your efforts to stay composed.

he huffed, combing a hand through his hair before pointing at you and then gesturing to the pallet of furs in the corner of the tent. his tone suggested he was giving you an order. when you didn't move, he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"leggjask. sofa." he barked, his frustration very much evident. when you still didn't respond, he crossed the space between you in two long strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet. the roughness of his grip made you wince, but he didn't seem to notice as he guided you toward the furs. he pointed again, his expression leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated, thinking that maybe he wanted you to lie down, and slowly you lower yourself onto the makeshift bed. he stood over you for a moment, his intense gaze making your skin prickle, before he turned and left the tent without another word.

you let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. you were alone in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers who you couldn't even get to know, married to a man you didn't understand. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes with the overwhelming thoughts, but you blinked them away, refusing to let yourself break down on your wedding night.

the two women that cleaned you up earlier came back with him, and they began to remove his furs. you quickly averted your eyes, feeling a heat crawling up your neck, as the thought of them removing more than just his cloak tainted your mind.

"nei!" the old one scolded, "Þú verður að líta!" ... why are they babbling their jibberish when they know you don't understand them... "she said, 'you must look'," the younger translated, seeing the confused wrinkle in your brows. oh thank the gods! you smiled briefly at the familiar words before coming back to your senses.

"must i?" you blush, slowly turning back to them.

"yes," she smiled, cleansing your huge husband before your eyes, "if you do not, you give chance for another woman," she carefully rubbed the damp cloth over his bloody forehead while you let the thought sink in.

"leave," you softly ordered, "I'll take care of my husband," and without hesitation she whispered to the old lady, they dropped everything and left. ain't no way you were about to let your husband be seduced away on the night of your union...

gently, you wrung the cloth of most of its water and brought it back up to his face, wiping away the dust and dried blood that covered little scars freckling his almost perfect face.

his eyes burned through your skull with his staring, slowly scanning over the curves and dips of your body as you moved. your finger danced over his skin, tracing the scar on his right cheekbone, moving down to brush past his thin lips, wiping away the remnants of dirt on his well built, chest. he seemed to relax against your touch, closing his piercing crimson eyes, and hanging his head back to let you do your work.

so soft... and smooth... the texture of his skin isn't what you expected. who would've thought that such a rough looking barbarian had the skin of a baby? would explain all the scars though. like this one running down his neck to his collarbone, and these over here trailing down his firm biceps. you almost forgot you were supposed to be cleaning him up... you've finished the upper half and tugged at the leather holding his pants up, struggling to get them undone.

a low chuckle rumbled in his throat and your eyes shot up up to his smirking face, "what's so funny?" you quiver, frowning, as he shifted to stand, undoing the leather and dropping his pants to the dirt floor. "þar," he rasped, smug at your flustered state.

having those women clean him up was starting to seem more and more reasonable now... nevertheless, you dippied the cloth in the bowl of warm water and squeezed it, before wiping at his lower abdomen. you're so adorable between his legs like that, avoiding his eyes at all costs, while you wipe your way down and around, to his back. again, your hands moved of their own accord, twitching along the scupletd bumps on his back.

he grunted softly as your fingers worked over the knots in his shoulders, his broad frame shifting slightly under your touch. emboldened by the lack of protest, you continued, pressing harder into the muscles along his spine. his head dipped forward, and a low sigh escaped his lips, sending a wave of warmth through you. he brought a large hand up to yours on his shoulders and guided you in front of him.

both your eyes reflected in each other's for a long moment before you tried to break the silence, your words sounding like nonsensical ringing in his ears. he pulled you into his chest, just holding you there in an attempt to shush you, closing his eyes as his brows pinched over them.

"what's your name?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the crackling of the distant bonfire. you paused, waiting for a response, but he didn't seem to react, his eyes still closed as if savoring the moment. you tried again, a little louder this time, "what is your name?" you pointed at his chest.

he peeped through his eyelids, a sliver of vermilion meeting yours with a flicker of confusion. "nafnið mitt?" he asked, the foreign words rolling off his tongue. he tilted his head, as though trying to piece together what you were asking.

you frowned, gesturing to yourself. "i'm…" you said your name slowly, pointing at your chest, then gestured to him, raising your brows expectantly.

he blinked, mildly confused, before a smirk tugged at his lips. "Katsuki," he said, his voice low and rough. he tapped his chest, meeting your eyes again. "Kat-su-ki," he repeated, in the same manner you pronounced yours, ensuring you understood.

"Ka-tsu-ki…" you tested the name on your tongue, the unfamiliar syllables feeling oddly satisfying. his smirk widened slightly, pleased that you had caught on.

you nodded, offering a small smile in return, then gestured to yourself again. "my name is…" you repeated your name slowly once more, hoping to bridge the language barrier. his brows furrowed, lips moving as he attempted to mimic the unfamiliar sounds. his effort was clumsy but endearing, and you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you.

his frown deepened at your amusement. he murmured your name under his breath a few more times, his pronunciation improving with each attempt, until he finally said it with enough accuracy to make you grin.

"that's right!" you cheered softly, nodding in approval.

he held your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before his hand came up to gently brush against your cheek. his touch was surprisingly tender, his calloused fingers rough against your skin, but warm.

"sofa," he murmured again, his tone softer this time. he gestured toward the furs, his crimson eyes watching you closely.

you hesitated, unsure if he was commanding you or simply suggesting something. this is it. you thought, heart racing, as you slowly nodded, giving him a glance over your shoulder, before crawling onto the makeshift bed.

he stood for a moment, watching as you adjusted yourself among the furs, before he joined, sinking beside your head with his weight on his palms, caging you in under him. his hair fell beautifully over his narrow, glowing eyes, his nose brushing against yours as he lowered to your quivering lips, sucking them between his, tugging at your plump bottom lip with his teeth.

footsteps thumping right outside your tent made your heart race, thinking someone was coming, but he didn't stop, nor did he care, he hiked up the thin fabric of your dress, his large hand caressing your upper thigh as he shed the leather covering his— good god... you look down and your eyes widened. he smirked and hooked the strap of your dress with a finger to pull it down, and expose your heaving chest.

"Katsuki!" the blonde woman from earlier yelled, barging into the tent, "Tak hendur þínar af henni, þú þarft at vera við ráðsafn. núna!"

"För Guðs sakar, kona!" he yelled back, moving himself off you to sit. he looked up at her worried frown... "Ek kem..." you had no idea what was happening... eyes darting between them as their words flowed out of their mouth and their hands moved in frustration as they spoke.

katsuki looked back at you, a worried expression overtaking the lustful one he had mere seconds ago. he kneeled down kissed you, then threw on his cloak and left. the woman rested a comforting hand on your shoulder, gently smiling before she too headed out, leaving you alone, following behind your husband.

»»————> 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; <————««

❈ "Nú ger hana konu þína." - now make her your wife

❈ "hvat í helvíti, kona!?" - what in the hell woman!?

❈ "þar" - there

❈ "nafnið mitt?" - my name?

❈ "leggjask" lie down

❈ "sofa" - sleep

❈ "Katsuki! Tak hendur þínar af henni, þú þarft at vera við ráðsafn. núna!"- katsuki! take your hands off her, you need to be at the council gathering. now!

❈ "För Guðs sakar, kona!" - for gods sake, woman!

❈ "Ek kem..." - I'm coming...

hope u enjoyed and look forward to more! don't forget to comment to be added to the taglist! mwah~♡

mlist!

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heeliopheelia · 2 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘-! 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍... 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘? 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍, 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 (p. jay x reader)

tw: fem! reader, rough sex, no protection, well daddy kink ig, darcyphilia, pet names, hair pulling, doggy style, slight spanking, heavily implied oral at the end

word count: 0.6k

masterlist

The couch armrest is not the most comfortable object to be bent over while all the air gets knocked out of your lungs, but oh well…

“You’re mine. Only mine,” your boyfriend rasps from behind you, hand gripping your hip and pulling you into his cock with force.

Jay watches as his red tip gets swallowed by your pussy so eagerly, the position you’re in really granting him a magazine-cover worthy view.

“S-slower,” you whimper out somehow with your cheek smushed against the cushion. “Go slower, daddy. Please.”

His borderline brutal pace doesn’t allow you to catch a break to fill your lungs back up properly as anytime you try to open your mouth, you’re being humbled by only being able to let out lewd noises.

“Don’t worry.” You whine when his hand tangles itself in your hair and the next second you’re being pulled upwards from the couch. “I’ll fuck you real good, princess.”

And you have zero doubts about that. He snugs himself deeper into your tight pussy and you moan loudly at his warmth. Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip harshly as you try to hold onto any dignity that’s left in you, though you can feel it beginning to tremble just mere seconds later.

“Just stay still and look pretty for me, yeah?” He taunts you, nose brushing against your arched neck.

“Y-Yes, daddy,” you stutter out between his thrusts, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Then you add with a small voice strained with a whine, “Anything for you.”

The title never ceases to make Jay’s cock harden and now is not an exception. So with a breathy laugh, he lands a smack on your already reddened ass and rewards you with an even faster pace.

“Now that’s a good fucking girl.”

He lets go of your hair and you fall back into the cushions with a weak mewl. You’re so exposed beneath him, so dependent on him and he loves you like this.

Spreading your legs even more apart, your feet lose whatever ground they had and now you feel more like a ragdoll at his mercy than an actual sane woman. Your body jolts forward with the harsh smack of his hips as your legs dangle in the air helplessly.

“Oh my god, daddy! I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you cry breathlessly, frantically, fingers digging into the cushion as a first teardrop runs down your cheek and blends with the bright fabric, staining it with mascara.

Jay’s head lolls back as a loud grunt escapes through his gritted teeth and he pounds into you wildly, simultaneously blacking out any thought out of your mind. He feels so thick and heavy between your plush walls. You shudder and pant loudly when with the next slap to your ass, you come harder than you’ve ever had before.

And you're so tight just before you loosen up for him, warm juices coating his cock. He stays inside for a moment longer, giving you shallow thrusts as you slowly come down from your high. Your body is hot and trembling as he grabs you by your legs and flips you onto your back.

Your ears are ringing as you try to get used to not having him inside you anymore, then blink slowly when Jay comes into the frame of your view for the first time this hour. And he’s beautiful. Toned body glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed and cock hard and leaking.

He stands right above your exhausted self, and you look up at him with mascara under your eyes as his thumb swipes along your bottom lip, only to push it inside your mouth the next second, parting it with his finger.

“Open up, baby. Daddy needs to cum too.”

taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @seongiewon @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @enhabooks @antoinettenotfound

#is it just me or is it rushed #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #park jay x reader #enhypen jay x reader #jay x reader smut #jay x reader #park jay imagines #park jay smut #park jay x you #enhypen x female reader #jay hard hours

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totalswag · 9 months ago

Text

worthy of love — RAFE CAMERON

authors note something short and cute for you guys. also, rafe deserves to be treated with the love that he desires. he just wants to be understood yall.

paring mean!rafe x soft!reader

summary soft!reader wants to show mean!rafe that he's worthy of love but he pushes reader away until one day he finally knows what love truly feel like.

warnings neglect, feeling unworthy of love, ward being a shitty father, and a lovely happy ending.

Rafe Cameron believed he would never be capable of love in his life.

Raised in a family where love was a rare commodity, Rafe grew up believing that affection, vulnerability was a weakness that should be avoided at all costs. But little did he know that someone was about to turn his life upside down and teach him the true meaning of love.

You.

His father, Ward Cameron, is part of the reason Rafe is the way he is. Ward tells him to man up rather than express his feelings and be vulnerable. Overall, his father has never treated him with the proper care compared to his two younger sisters. This sent Rafe into a downward spiral, leading to a darker path in his life. Rafe held his guard up.

You entered his world like a breath of fresh air, bringing with you a warmth and tenderness he had never felt before. Rafe first rejected your presence, pushing you away with his harsh remarks and cold demeanor. But you saw through his strong facade, understanding the agony and vulnerability that lay underneath the surface.

"Why do you treat me like this? I’m not someone that deserves to be loved."

Rafe was initially perplexed as to why, of all the people on the island, someone as kind and gentle as you would want to be with him.

One of the many things Rafe would tell you when you tried to show him that he’s capable of being loved by someone, he would shut you out immediately when you tried showing him.

People said you were crazy for pursuing Rafe Cameron. His reputation in Kildare is immense. You just chose to ignore what other people had to say because you felt Rafe deserved love.

The first time you heard those words come out of his mouth, your heart broke into a million pieces. Behind all of the roughness, coldness, and unpredictable behavior, he is someone who wants to be loved.

Rafe continued to push you away for the longest time, hoping you would get the hint. Finally, giving in after protracted arguments. For far too long, he had kept his guard up to protect himself. He did not want to feel weak for expressing himself. Rafe noticed how long you stayed by his side.

You gradually began to break down the walls Rafe had placed around his heart. You showed patience and understanding by refusing to give up on him, even when he tried to push you away. Rafe became increasingly drawn to you as time passed, yearning for the love and acceptance that had always escaped him.

Rafe started to trust again as your relationship deepened. He progressively exposed a gentler, softer side of himself, something he had never seen before. He realized there are individuals out there, like you, who care passionately and will be by his side through thick and thin.

All he ever wanted was to feel fully understood and seen. You came into his life when he was in the deepest pain and saved him. You showed he’s worthy of love, compassion, gratitude, and vulnerability are truly like, and there is nothing wrong with it. He transformed into a very different person than anyone could have predicted.

"You're the most amazing person I've ever laid eyes on, baby," Rafe said with a lovely smile on his lips, sliding the front strand of your hair behind your ear as you moved your body closer to his and closed your eyes.

“I love you so much rafey” kissing his bare shoulder a few times.

“And I love you more,”

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✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

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thef1diary · 9 months ago

Note

🎧 Max verstappen marry bruno mars

A Beautiful Night | M. Verstappen

Summary: Max discovers how much he enjoys referring to you as his future wife when you pretend to be engaged for fun one night.

genre: fluff, no warnings.

wc: 2.1k

celebrate 2k w me :) taglist form masterlist

A gentle breeze flowed through your bedroom windows as the soft morning sun shone. Inhaling deeply, you turned to face the opposite side, away from the natural light that would disturb your slumber, but you were still sound asleep.

Your hand rested on your lover's back, who had tucked his hands underneath his own pillow while lying on his stomach, snoring softly.

You peeled your eyes open and looked at Max with a soft smile spreading across your face. Even after having the chance to wake up next to him every morning for the previous several years, you continued to cherish these early morning moments. It was as though time stood still at that very moment.

You lifted your hand to brush your fingers through his hair since it would always end up a tad too tangled in the mornings. However, as soon as you did, you noticed that the ring you typically wear on your index finger was now placed on your left hand's ring finger.

Furrowing your brows, you turned on your back with your left hand held in front of you. Your eyes narrowed as you sought to figure out why the ring was out of place.

Then, the memories came rushing back to you, causing your jaw to drop as a light chuckle left your mouth.

It's a beautiful night, we're looking

for something dumb to do

It started off with classic bar hopping. An activity you and Max had decided to take upon since you had a free evening with quite a few hours to spare.

Before you entered the first bar of the night, you turned to face Max and slipped a ring from your index to your ring finger. "How many free drinks do you think we can get if we say that we just got engaged?"

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

Max laughed at the way you wiggled your fingers to show off the ring. He wasn't opposed to the idea as it would definitely make the evening rather entertaining.

But he still shrugged, "I don't think people are going to buy the story, especially with that ring."

You looked down at it, now adorned on your ring finger. "What's wrong with it?"

Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice?

He held your hand in his while his thumb grazed over the thin band of white gold studded with lots of smaller diamonds.

"It's not engagement worthy, you know I will get you a much shinier ring."

You slapped his hand away, chuckling, "I know you will, but they don't need to know that." You nodded your head towards the door of the bar, hinting at the potential crowd behind it.

Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you

"Then let's find out," he agreed, holding the door open for you as you began the night.

Mingling amid a sizeable group of locals, you had forgotten how many bars you've entered tonight, however the slight sway you had while walking can indicate that the number was slowly increasing.

Well, I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go

Under ambient lighting, you noticed a crowd of university students joking among themselves in one corner of the bar, and heard the clinks of their glasses mixed with cheers over the background rock music.

This bar had been more crowded than the last few, but you still enjoyed it nonetheless. The buzz running through your body all the way down to the tips of your fingers had quickly made you forget how much you disliked larger crowds.

No one will know, oh, come on girl

You would have felt out of place if not for the friendly locals who have managed to kept you engaged in conversations. But then again, Max would tell you that you were adept at reading the crowd—at least more so than he was sometimes, even while tipsy.

"To celebrate the future married couple, here are some drinks, on the house of course!" On the bar top in front you, the bartender sets a tray with four shot glasses that are filled to the brim with tequila.

As you picked it up, the liquid splashed around a little bit, dripping over the edge and leaving traces of the liquor on your fingertips. You held the glass up in appreciation towards the bartender and then downed the contents inside alongside your lover.

Who cares if we're trashed, got a pocket full

of cash we can blow

You nodded slightly at Max with a teasing smile covered by the next shot of tequila you consumed, knowing that this was another successful attempt at your plan. These free drinks were adding to the ones you had began drinking at the previous bars.

Max watched with a smitten smile as you laughed along with a few other people who had asked to see your ring. Fortunately everyone who asked so far this evening, was a tad too tipsy to question the lack of a bigger diamond, only cheering in giddy happiness for a stranger before buying you both another round of drinks.

Shots of patron and it's on, girl

Once you exited the final bar of the night, the sky's darkness started to disappear, giving way to a paler blue hue that signified the impending sunrise.

Max's arm was resting on your waist as you walked side by side, however it was next to impossible to walk in a straight line. Laughing every time you accidentally bumped into each other, your stomach was now aching but the laugh bubbling up your throat never stopped.

Don't say no, no, no, no, no

"We should do that again," Max commented, and you couldn't help but look at him with a cheeky smile. "Why, you like calling me your fiancée?"

He paused, stopping you from taking another step as well. "If I had a proper ring, I'd get down on one knee right now and make you my fiancée."

Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

"Ring or no ring, my answer will always be yes." You stood in front of him, still facing him and placed your palms on his cheeks.

He gasped and shook his head, "you can't just say yes before I propose."

You chuckled at his antics, "why not?"

Max grasped on to your hand that adorned the ring, quickly sliding it off and holding on to it. "If you're going to say yes, let me at least propose."

And we'll go, go, go, go, go

He took a step back and almost stumbled over his own feet, causing you to let out a gasp in regard to his safety before it turned into laughter that echoed throughout the empty streets.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched you laugh, knowing the decision he was about to make would be the best thing he'd ever do in his entire life. Although he knew that he loved you endlessly and would never be able to imagine his future without you in it, tonight he realized that there was no reason to waste any more time to ask you the question that's been on his mind for a few months now.

He kneeled down on one knee and made a makeshift ring box with his hands, with the ring lying flat on his palm.

If you're ready, like I'm ready

Your eyes widened when he looked ready to give a short speech, your words leaving your mouth in a rushed manner. "Max, baby, are you seriously doing this now?"

He nodded, "I already knew that I wanted you to be my wife, to be my future, and tonight seems to be fitting in a way."

You placed your hands over your heart once he started off by saying your full name, slightly slurring over a few syllables due to the alcohol still buzzing in his system.

'Cause it's a beautiful night, we're looking

for something dumb to do

"I need you to know that you're everything to me, mijn liefje. I don't think I can spend a single day without you and I don't even want to know if I can. Ik hou van jou, and I will keep loving you until my last breath. Will you, the woman who owns my heart, marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?"

You began nodding before he could finish his speech, making his smile wider. "Yes," you still stated.

He held his hand out waiting for you to place yours in his palm which you obliged to easily. After sliding the ring on your finger, he stood up and immediately pulled you closer by his grasp on your waist, capturing your lips with his.

"I love you, my future husband," you mumbled against his lips, earning a light chuckle from him before he responded with just as much enthusiasm. "I love you more, my future wife."

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

Due to your shuffling about in bed, Max's eyes fluttered open before closing again as his eyes hadn't adjusted to the light yet. With his eyes remaining shut, his arms found your waist, sliding his body right next to yours.

His lips grazed your ear, and he muttered, "good morning, Mrs. Verstappen.”

You bit your tongue to keep a smile from forming on your face since you couldn't help but correct him: "Future Mrs. Verstappen."

"We can go to the chapel down the street and make it official," he suggested, blinking away the signs of sleep from his eyes as he turned to hover over you.

Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice?

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer with a smile gracing your face and eyes twinkling with delight, "that eager?"

Leaning closer to you, he placed a peck to your cheek. "I proposed to you while we were drunk, completely trashing my previous plan, of course I'm eager."

"You had a plan?" You asked, shocked by the piece of information he dropped casually.

Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you, oh

He groaned due to his own slip of the tongue as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. When he didn't respond any further than that, you threaded your fingers through his hair and urged him to show you his face.

With a sheepish smile on his face, he admitted, "I might've."

"Tell me," you prompted but earned a shake of his head, "I can't."

Don't say no, no, no, no, no

"You already proposed, you don't need to hide it anymore," you reminded him, bringing your left hand in between your bodies to admire the sentiment behind your ring.

Max leaned his body weight on one of his forearms to free his other hand so he could grasp onto yours. Bringing it closer to his lips, he pressed a kiss on your ring.

"What makes you think I won't do it properly again?" He asked with a sly smile, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand.

Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

You hummed, knowing Max well enough to have an idea that he would do something private yet extravagant. "I don't think it works like that, I already said yes."

"Well, you can say yes again."

Sighing, he rested his back on the bed, laying an arm across your pillow and with a gesture of his fingers, you shuffled closer to him. Resting your left hand on his chest, both of you looked at it, admiring the symbol of your future.

Then you huffed, "are you seriously not going to tell me?"

And we'll go, go, go, go, go

His response was immediate, clicking his tongue, "nope."

You turned away from him; away from the warmth of his body and into the torture of the sun shining directly in your eyes. But you didn't budge, only muttering, "I don't like you," in his direction.

If you're ready, like I'm ready

It took him less than two seconds to adjust his body and cuddle you, engulfing your smaller figure. His arm wrapped around your waist, while his other hand found the perfect spot to keep the sun from stinging your eyes.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured in your ear, aware that your previous remarks lacked sincerity.

'Cause it's a beautiful night, we're looking for

something dumb to do

Your frown faded into a slight smile, but you didn't turn to face him because you were now in a comfortable position.

You placed your hand over his, which was resting on your waist, and interlaced your fingers, ready for a future with him.

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

Taglist based on the form: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @helenemandl6 @charlesleclercsonlywife @thedecalcomania-blog

#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #di celebrates

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covenists · 10 months ago

Text

✦ WHEN DID THE CAMERA CLICKED?, L. NORRIS

some things are definitely happened in his time in australia, but does it looks like that or no?

fc: millie alcock

taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification @charli123456789 @cherry-piee

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦˚‎

lando.jpg

liked by pierregasly and 526,330 others

lando.jpg through y/n's camera vs real life

view all 1,029 comments

username BOY GO BACK TO AUSTRALIA

username entire grid: 🇦🇺🦘 lando and y/n: 🇫🇷🥖

username I need the low quality version

username What is he doing in france?

⤷ maxfewtrell That's what I thought

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yourusername added a photo to their story 1h

Replied to your story

＠theemilycarey: Go back now hun your boyfriend need to race in your home country

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦˚‎

TODAY ON INSTAGRAM

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername and 219,807 others

view all 907 comments

maxfewtrell I got done for that, can you come pick me up from the police station pls

yourusername Ooh who's that sexy man?

⤷ maxfewtrell Thanks for the compliment, Y/n. Appreciate it

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⤷ landonorris hopping on my luggage

⤷ yourusername ???

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username no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick thribbing, first clenching, ear rining, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, cant walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail stractching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, he could put a nuclear bomb inside me and i'd still ride

⤷ username omg i-

yourusername

liked by mclaren and 709,328 others

yourusername Hiding in the planesight ✈️

view all 1,226 comments

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username they've been separated for 9 hours now and she's preparing to meet him via making pun

username mastering in making a dad pun is she?

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⤷ yourusername Got it 🫡🫡

⤷ username i thought she's here for him

⤷ landonorris she is but she's hard to admit

lando.jpg

liked by georgerussell63 and 459,205 others

lando.jpg who am i if i'm not my girlfriend's fan?

view all 824 comments

fabienfrankel 🤩

⤷ username deep inside i know fabien is still regretting the fact that he fell WAY too late for her when she's with this chap

username Useless -Max

⤷ maxfewtrell For real

username ew since whn did u evn bcome this luvsick ovr sum ugly grl u js met in a gala?

⤷ username First of all, fix your typing then comment

lilymhe Oh since when did girlfriend effect hit you this badly, son? 🤨

livkatecooke ＠yourusername I think he's your fan but not sure though...

lando.jpg

liked by oscarpiastri and 535,729 others

lando.jpg girl in blue

view all 617 comments

theemilycarey Girl in red's solid competitor

phiasaban The switch between ‘our sweet child, Y/n’ to ‘Uncle Fred from the suburban farm’ is too violent

username “TENNESEE WHISKEYYY”

username i love how the hat is just magical appear out of nowhere

emmadarcy I'm going to be very surprised if you can handle that

⤷ yourusername Welllll, I could actually

⤷ landonorris could be passed out

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⤷ livkatecooke Oh yeaaahh.... What a fun experience

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦˚‎

TWITTER, NOT LONG AGO

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦˚‎

yourusername

liked by lnfour and 892,766 others

yourusername Helllloooooooo

view all 920 comments

username Lando you better give the phone back at her

mclaren Who's that handsome fella? 😌

username Is this his world domination on Instagram time?

username whatever it is i'm thankful that she gave us this because if not imma be starved for the rest of my 20 years of living

landonorris Awww 🥺🫶🏻

⤷ yourusername ♥️😍

⤷ username OH SO IT'S NOT HIM????

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username sorry for the misunderstanding, king

INSTAGRAM, BUT 2 DAYS AFTER THE LAST POST:

lando.jpg

liked by carlossainz55 and 628,903 others

lando.jpg we're on a battle. pls vote who's gonna win

view all 1,103 comments

username ALL OF THE FUCKING SUDDEN?????

username I don't understand with y'all, what's going on now?????

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⤷ yourusername Welcome to my fanclub, Alex

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username two days ago we got lando's photo from y/n and seeing lando's lovey dovey comments beneath, AND NOW??

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⤷ yourusername It's actually because he said that if he's losing the bet, he'll not going to get close to me for at least a day or so

⤷ georgerussell63 The hell is that stupid bet

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⤷ georgerussell63 Oh my god that is the stupidest bet I've ever heard or seen

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yourusername

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yourusername SHUT IT YALL I WON

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username Congratulations, Alex's saying is proven true once again

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maxfewtrell

liked by team_quadrant and 541,200 others

maxfewtrell Trust the click of my camera

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yourusername Since when did the camera clicked? And why didn't I hear it?

⤷ landonorris he got the silent shooter

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username how did you get this? i thought that they promised after the bet yesterday?

⤷ maxfewtrell I've had enough about their bets actually

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kasagia · 1 year ago

Text

District boy

Pairing: young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader; doppëlganger! Finnick Odair x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You and Corio were very close (best) friends. Young Snow had a crush on you for a very long time. But he wouldn't let anything distract him—not until he got his family out of their financial troubles. And then comes the 10th Hunger Games, in which you get to be a mentor for a very handsome tribute... Coryo isn't happy about it at all. Requested by: Two anonymous. I hope you will like it! 😊💙🖤 Warning(s): jealous Coriolanus Snow; (doppëlganger) of Finnick Odair; the author doesn't care that it is impossible; Coryo being simp for the reader; reader flirts with Finnick; quote from 'My tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift; Words count: 7k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

Coriolanus did not remember the exact moment when this happened.

Everything that had to do with you came to him very... naturally.

Before he knew it, one joint project for one of your classes turned into daily discussions in the cafeteria. You entered his very small circle of 'friends' like you should have always belonged there and unknowingly became the best friend to young Snow.

And then you started staying in the library after classes, talking about various things (Coriolanus hated himself for wasting his time when he should have been studying on pointless discussions with you, but he always ended up in the library at the end of the day anyway).

And so one day he realised that you were wonderful when you laughed at his jokes. That the smell of your perfume made him hungrier than the baked goods that spread from the bakery he passed by every day on his way to the Academy. That he was missing something as he basked in the glow of your attention. That he would like you to be with him at all times, not only within the walls of the Academy, cafes (he never ordered himself anything, trying to stop his stomach from growling as he watched you eat the cake, occasionally offering him a bite), or the park. That he would like to have you completely to himself and hide you from the eyes of other people who, in his opinion, were not worthy of an ounce of your attention.

He remembered snapping at Festus when he asked him if you were seeing anyone. As if Coriolanus' claim about you wasn't obvious enough to him.

Although you also remained blind to his obvious feelings, which Sejanus said were as visible as an approaching change in the weather in the Rocky Mountains. By the way, he wondered when Sejanus would forget those catchphrases from District 2. They were very tiring and boring to listen to.

But Snow decided to let you stay in the dark for a little longer and admire you in silence, from his place next to you as your best friend. He promised himself that when he won the Plinth Prize, he would conquer not only the world but you and your heart. After all, he couldn't imagine anyone else being his First Lady than you.

He knew that his fascination with you was gradually turning into an unhealthy obsession. But what else could he do when you took his breath away just by existing? And Coryo wasn't used to not having control over his emotions. But with you... you could do whatever you wanted with him. And he was terrified, both by the fact that you had such power over him and by the fact that you were completely unaware of it.

However, everything was going according to his plan. He stayed by your side, guarding you like a gardener's dog and waiting for the moment when he would finally be worthy of you and make you his. And you seemed to obediently dismiss every admirer.

Until the 10th Hunger Games came along.

And a certain district boy stole too much of your attention for Coriolanus' liking. After all, you were HIS. Even if you didn't know about it yet.

"Hello, petal." He whispers in your ear, walking up to you from behind.

Surprised, you choke on the champagne you drank in secret from your parents and other participants in the reaping party at the Academy. He smiles in amusement, gently patting your back and discreetly placing the glass of champagne on the table for you.

"Coriolanus Snow, someday I'll put a fucking bell around your neck like my mother's cats have." You say, coughing. He laughs softly, offering you his arm, which you take once you've recovered.

"I thought you considered it brutal?" He replies sarcastically, glancing at the dress you were in, which hugged your curves perfectly.

A white dress that Tigris made for you 'coincidentally' matched perfectly with the outfit he was currently wearing. He had never been more proud of his cousin than he was now.

"I'm surprised that you think you're on an equal footing with my cats. You're no match for them, Snow." He rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smirk a little at your laugh.

"We will see." You snorted at that. You notice Sejanus in the crowd talking to his parents.

"I'll go say hello." You say, nodding towards Sejanus. But before you can take a step towards him, Coryo's grip on you tightens. You give him a questioning look, focusing your gaze on him.

"Stay with me. You know I don't like talking to them all by myself. Especially with Arachne. Sejan will be joining us soon." You sigh, rolling your eyes at him, but you don't try to fight his grip or let go of his arm as he leads you towards the group of your classmates.

"I spoil you too much, Snow."

"Nonsense, you could do better." You laugh in amusement, and he smiles at the sound of that.

But his good mood and relaxed demeanour quickly turned into a stoic expression. You feel him tense slightly and straighten, as if preparing for a fight, when you approach your classmates.

"Snow and Y/L/N. As always, together. You could finally make up your mind, darling, and choose one of them instead of hanging around him and Plinth." Arachne greets you, as always, nicely, at which you laugh artificially.

"Why should I when I can have both?" You reply with a shrug, making some of them laugh. However, you are most pleased with Arachne's grimace and the small smile on Coryo's lips.

"Usually it's the district girls who act like whores." You feel Coryo tense next to you, his eyes turning a cold, icy shade as he stares at the girl in front of you. If looks could kill, Coryo would become a serial killer. However, he could certainly make someone feel insecure and intimidated.

"Usually inheritance hunters don't complete their education and end up marrying some rich fool at the earliest opportunity, even before they turn 18. And yet here you are, Arachnie. I think that makes us both surprised then." You reply before Coryo can react. Festus shakes his head and stares at the both of you in amusement as you sinisterly glare at each other.

"Ladies, why all these quarrels? We already know who Y/N will end up with."

"And who is it, Festus?"

"Me." You shake your head at that, amused. However, Coryo, standing next to you, doesn't share your humor. He pulls you slightly closer to him, giving you a fleeting glance before focusing on Festus.

"For now, she's not on your shoulder, Creed."

"Enjoy it while you can, Snow. We'll see how things go when we enrol in university." You see Coriolanus tighten his jaw at his remark. You squeeze his arm slightly tighter, making him shift his gaze to you. You smile as he relaxes slightly under your attention.

"You made it to the graduation, Festus. You shouldn't set higher expectations for yourself than that." Sejan's voice echoes behind you. You snorted in amusement and turned around in Coryo's embrace; somehow you managed to get out of them enough to wrap your arms around your friend. "Y/N. You look as beautiful as always. Arachne, who are you trying to fool with this white outfit?" You hide your face behind Coryo's shoulder, trying to hold back a burst of laughter.

You feel Sejanus wrapping his arm around you. Now, you are held by your two friends, and the one with the lighter hair is definitely unhappy about having to share you with Plinth, but you are not able to notice it since the reaping is finally starting.

A murmur of women's whispers echoed throughout the room as a very handsome man emerged from the crowd. You leaned forward slightly, taking a closer look at the tall, athletic, and chiselled man with tanned skin and bronze hair.

With just one look into his stunning sea-green eyes and after seeing the huge, charming smile he sent for the cameras, you knew that whoever got this man was going to be the winner. Because no tribute ever made as much money from sponsors as a sinfully hot man usually did.

And this one was a special sight for the eyes. The reaction of most of the female part of the room and the jealous and furious looks of the men at the reaction of their other halves confirmed your suspicions.

"This boy from 4 belongs to Miss Y/N Y/L/N."

You licked your lips, smiling wolfishly, and watched your tribute on the screen. You were so lucky.

"You damn lucky dog." Persephone whispers in your ear and slaps your shoulder playfully. You give her a half-smile and shrug as the cameramen spend a little more time showing your tribute.

"What can I say... maybe I'll only attract hot men from now on? I hope his muscles aren't just for good looks, because that would be a shame." She shakes her head at your words, holding back a laugh. You smile and involuntarily glance at Coriolanus.

He immediately looks away from you. His jaw is set, and his leg bounces slightly. Anyone else would think he was relaxed and calm. But you knew him too well to assume that.

He was already nervous the moment Clem took your seat, and you were forced to sit in the second row, away from him. Coriolanus doesn't like it. He would rather hold your hand, feel the warmth of your body close to yours, and smell the faint scent of your perfume than sneak glances over his shoulder to keep an eye on you.

Sometimes he knows he can be painfully obvious, but he thanks fate for at least being kind enough to keep you unaware of his feelings for you. He would have you. Just not yet. First, his tribute had to win the damn Hunger Games so he could win Plinth's prize. Then he could make his move without fear of you discovering his family's financial situation. Finally, snow lands on top. And he spent many sleepless nights imagining that he would land on top of you.

You catch his gaze, but you don't have time to analyse his attitude. After a while, Lucy Gray appears on the screen, and you see that your handsome guy will have some competition for the Capitol's favour.

And the possible competition with your best friend makes you feel very uncomfortable. So much so that you don't notice the hateful glare Coriolanus shot at your tribute as the operators once again showed off the likenesses of this year's tributes.

Finnick Odair. A new obstacle in his plan that he had to eliminate. And not just to win the Hunger Games...

You haven't spoken to Coryo since then. Which was an extremely strange phenomenon because you were usually attached to each other at the hip.

Although you had seen him briefly during classes and now, when most of the mentors had gathered around the cage at the zoo to find their tributes and give them something to eat or drink, he didn't even spare you a second glance as he was fully focused on Lucy Gray.

Something was wrong with him.

Especially after his little stunt at the train station and his conversation with Dr. Gaul. Because of which, now (and mainly because of Sejanus' statement), you stand nervously near the bars, looking for your tribute.

And you couldn't help but wonder what exactly the Hunger Games were for. The more you thought about it, the more you started to side with Sejanus.

The First Rebellion may have done you great harm, but was it any wonder that the people of the district rebelled? After all, if any of you were born outside the Capitol, you would probably do what they did. So what was the point of murdering 23 of the young unfortunates who had been singled out for slaughter?

“You seem lost.” A voice next to you pulls you from your thoughts. You turn around, seeing your tribute leaning against the bars and watching you carefully. If he was hot on TV, he looked gorgeous in real life. His cheekbones and jaws look like they had been carved with chisels by the best of the artists. And his eyes... you wonder how such men could be born and live in any district. "Unless you're looking for something. Or someone, if I may boldly assume."

"Y/N Y/L/N. Your mentor." You say, reaching your hand out towards him through the bars. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. You can't help but notice how soft his lips are against your skin. You blush slightly, and you can almost feel Flickerman's eyes and cameras behind you.

"I figured it out. Fate must be a little kind to me after all. Giving me the most beautiful of mentors as my guardian angel."

"You'll be able to say that when you win the Hunger Games." You reply, taking your hand from his and pulling food and drink out of your bag for him.

"When?" He asks, taking the cookie from you and immediately biting into it. That view is squeezing you with sadness, seeing how hungry he is. Despite everything, he still carries himself with grace and is extremely charming. You hope that the cameras will show him often. "How can you be so sure?"

"You are handsome. You attract women's attention. If you maintain that charming attitude of yours, you will probably earn quite a lot of money with those pretty eyes and smile. At least enough to not die of hunger or dehydration in the arena." You reply, searching for something else in your bag.

"Under different circumstances, I would be grateful for so many compliments, angel." You look up, meeting his gaze. And something inside you tells you that, in fact, if the circumstances were different, you would be talking about something completely different right now... or doing something much more enjoyable.

"When you win, who knows? Once a tribute stayed in the Capitol after winning." You say, handing him your cousin's old white sweater that he found in the closet.

"Sorry, honey, but I doubt I'd want to stay in the Capitol. Even for such a nice view." He says this, unabashedly taking off the slightly torn and dirty shirt he was wearing.

He soaks it in the water you gave him and rinses himself off, putting on a show for the entire Capitol audience to watch thanks to the cameras trained on him and the people in the zoo. You lick your lips, trying not to openly stare at the muscles on his chest and act rude (or, in this case, like a horny teenager).

"You're behind bars." You clear your throat, reminding him that there are probably no good views from the cage. You took the courage to look him in the eyes again only after he got dressed.

"And I look at a beautiful girl, what more could I want?"

You laugh loudly and honestly at this. He joins you, and the other mentors and the rest of the tributes look at you like you're crazy. You're too busy looking at the handsome man in front of you to notice Coryo giving him a dagger glare and clenching her fists in anger.

But Lucy Gray does it.

And she perfectly recognises jealousy in the eyes of others. Especially pure anger and the beginnings of forming a plan for revenge. After all, that's how she ended up here.

The day before reaping, Mayfair Lipp had a similar look in her eyes.

Which makes her come to the conclusion that maybe her mentor isn't as good a person as she initially assumed.

"Excuse me for a moment." Snow mutters to her as he walks towards the two of you, leaving her to the children who came to look at her dress.

You and Finnick chat casually about things completely unrelated to Games. Coriolanus notices that the boy from the district reached through the bars for your hand, showing you different lines on it, probably doing some trick or foretelling stupid things.

But what added fuel to Snow's anger was the fact that, in addition to the district's underdog daring to touch you, he also made your face blush. Something Coriolanus has never managed to do.

"Y/N." He says, interrupting the conversation between the two of you. Seeing that he is watching you, you move away from the boy, calming down his anger a little. "We have to get back to the Academy. We have another class soon."

"Oh. Yes." you say, the disappointment is very audible in your voice, which makes him even more angry and jealous.

Why on earth would this piece of trash from the district deserve your attention, or maybe even affection, when Coriolanus was standing right next to you?

"I'll be back again. If you need anything, I'll get it for you." You say, giving a soft smile to your tribute. Coryo almost growls in anger, knowing full well that this worm doesn't deserve your kindness.

"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry too much." He replies with his charming smirk, making Coryo want to impale his head through the metal wires of his cage.

He wraps his hand around your waist and catches your gaze as he nods towards the exit of the zoo. Taking advantage of your moment of distraction as you watch Arachne torment her tribute, Coriolanus gives your tribute a cold look and squeezes your waist a little tighter. Odair looks at him impassively, but the slight tightening of his jaw tells Snow that the boy got the hint.

No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to touch you like Coryo was doing right now.

Coryo shouldn't be concerned about a boy from the district, especially one who competed in the Hunger Games, but he couldn't just let that bastard flirt with HIS girl.

Your terrified gasp brings him out of his thoughts. He automatically places his hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and looking around for whatever scared you. And she sees Arachne's tribute grab her by the neck and pull her towards her, holding a broken bottle in her other hand.

He feels you try to break free from his grip, but instead of letting you go and running towards Arachne and her tribute, he spins you around and presses your face into his chest just as Arachne's neck pierces the glass of the bottle.

He feels you tremble in his arms, hearing the screams and shots of the Peacekeepers, who open fire too late and kill the crazy girl from the district.

"You're safe. Nothing will happen to you. Not with me." He whispers to you as he feels your tears soak his shirt, and he falls even more in love with you, seeing you cry even for a bitch like Arachne.

He places a kiss on the top of your head and leads you out of the zoo and to your car. He glances briefly at Lucy Gray to make sure they didn't shoot her by accident. He angrily accepts that your tribute is also unharmed.

He feels a little better, though, when he sees how your tribute shoots a jealous, angry glare at him, holding you close to his chest. And Coriolanus can't help but wink arrogantly at him.

"Focus." You tell the tribute in front of you as you discuss plans to build the Arena with him. Finnick, however, prefers to play with the bracelet on your wrist.

"Rose quartz. You know you don't get things like that from just anyone?" He asks, examining the stone. You remove your wrist from his grasp and raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

"My friend gave me this."

"That creepy blonde? Adorable. If he took his eyes off you for more than 5 seconds."

You roll your eyes at him and turn your gaze away from him to glance at Coryo. He's talking to, or rather listening to, Lucy Gray as he stares blankly at the pen and paper in front of him. He senses your gaze and turns around. You give him a soft smile, and he nods at you and goes back to listening to his tribute.

"Coryo doesn't like being alone among people he doesn't trust or know. And after yesterday, he's… more caring. It's natural."

"And does this Coryo of yours often give you old bracelets with a stone symbolising love?" You frown, examining the bracelet he gave you for your 18th birthday.

"It belonged to his mother. He probably thought it was pretty and that's why he gave it to me. It does not mean anything." You explain to him, at which he just shakes his head in disbelief, apparently not trusting in the good intentions of your friend. You want to go back to discussing your arena survival plan with him, but he won't let you say a word.

"Hmm... if I hadn't been chosen in the reaping and we had met under different circumstances, and if I were rich, I would have given you a necklace with pearls and pieces of angelite."

"Why?" You ask curiously, hoping that once he says what he wants, you two will go back to discussing plans. But you wonder how the hell he knows the meaning of the stones.

"Pearls are a symbol of wisdom, calmness, integrity, and serenity. They also remind me of the ocean. How old fishermen told us stories about beautiful sirens who attracted them by singing."

"Like Lucy Gray?" You ask with a smirk, thinking he might like the female tribute.

"I was thinking of another beauty." He says his fingertips are brushing against yours as much as the cuffs on his wrists would allow.

You blush when he flirts with you. You can't say that it bothers you or that you are indifferent. After all, he was very handsome. You don't see Coryo frown, staring daggers at the place where your hands lightly brush against each other.

"What about angelite? Why it?"

"It's a kind of peaceful crystal. Some believe that it helps to bring a guardian angel closer to you. After being chosen in the reaping... I wasn't quite at peace. And then I looked at you, and somehow..." He pauses, staring at your hands. You grab his hands tight, making his sea-green eyes look back into yours in surprise at your sudden gesture.

"I promise I will do everything in my power to make you survive this. You don't have to trust me, but trust in this."

"Because you want the prize?" He asks suspiciously, and you shake your head with a slight chuckle. You're not surprised that he's distrustful. After all, most mentors had this in mind. The prize. Not a human life that was in their hands.

"Because I can't stand the thought of someone like you dying in the arena." You admit it. You unconsciously lean into each other as you stroke your fingers over the back of his hand, drawing little patterns on it.

"Someone like me? Underdog from the district?"

"A handsome man with a good heart. Do not look at me like this. I saw you sharing water and food with that sick little girl—Dill and the other one... Wovey I think? You are a good man, Finncik Odair." You say with confidence.

His eyes light up for a moment, and for the first time, you see his real, unforced, warm smile. He didn't play the charming boy. Not this time.

"I guess that makes two of us, angel. I saw someone giving her medicine last night and extra food. I doubt it was their mentors."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." You both laugh at your answer. And somehow you can't help but blush—the flutter in your stomach that's caused by the way he looks at you and that damn beautiful, genuine smile—that's nothing compared to his charming façade.

Someone's burning gaze focused on you, which you feel on your temple, makes you let go of the tribute's hand, embarrassed. You look around discreetly, noticing Coryo's cold gaze that makes you shiver. He's never looked at you like that... at least not in your direction. It takes you a few seconds to realise that his gaze isn't on you at all, but on the man sitting across from you.

"Can you get me a trident? And some nets?"

"Trident?" You ask distractedly, making a note of his request anyway.

"To the arena. To put on a show and collect more donations." You nod, your thoughts fully returning to Finnick. You tell yourself that you're making something up. After all, Coryo is just your friend.

"I'll see what I can do. You also need to think about what you will do on tomorrow's TV appearance." You remind him, writing down in your notebook the things you should provide him with before he goes on air. Maybe a suit? You're sure he'd look drop-dead handsome in it on stage.

"I have already got some idea. You'll probably like it." He replies with an arrogant smirk, causing you to giggle, which, for some strange reason, you're unable to hold back. His smirk widens.

"Y/N. Can I take you away for a moment?" Coryo's voice and the fact that he's right behind you surprise you. You didn't notice him sneaking up until he spoke. You wonder how many times he has managed to do this without your knowledge.

"Go, angel. I'll see you tomorrow at the arena." Finnick says, giving you another of his trademark smirks. You nod to him and accept Coryo's hand as he helps you up. He takes your bag from you, and you both walk out.

You go with him as his emotional support to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He tells you enthusiastically about his new ideas for the Hunger Games and how the woman was interested in them, but you only half-listen, your thoughts still with Finnick. And Coriolanus doesn't like it that you so brazenly ignore what he says.

"You two are rather close." He says, getting your attention. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, not understanding who he was talking about. "You and your tribute."

"We are. It's my job to take care of him."

"You do it rather willingly and with a smile on your face." He remarks with a strange tone of voice. You stop and frown at him, not understanding what his problem is.

"Are you suggesting something?"

"No. No. Not at all. I'm just warning you. People are talking."

"They always talk." You snap at him, furious that he's playing that card. He lectures you as if you were a little child and did something wrong. Besides, who cared? You could flirt with anyone you wanted.

"Y/N. He's just a district boy. I don't want your reputation to suffer just because… you see him as a human being."

"Are you serious? He IS a human being. Like each one of them." You say, angry at him for even saying such a thing.

"You sound like Sejanus." He says it coldly, giving you an unreadable look. You don't know what he's thinking, but you know by the way his jaw is set and his hand is nervously playing with the strap of his bag that it's not good. And you wonder. Because Sejan is your friend after all. And he was also a district boy.

"Maybe because he's right." You respond to his remark by crossing your arms and staring at him defiantly, tilting your chin slightly upward.

"Are you really going to let some district scumbag ruin your career and future? Everything you've worked for so far? They hate us, Y/N. Each one of them. Behind that charming smile of his, there is a devil who gossips about you and laughs at your naivety behind your back."

"They are not monsters, Coriolanus."

The use of his full name makes him flinch. You see it and immediately regret not using his diminutive, but that's okay. You were incredibly frustrated and angry that he thought the way Dr. Gaul and the rest of the rich snobs of Panem did. That he didn't see these people as... people. People like you were.

"They killed my father, and because of the rebellion 10 years ago, my mother and sister, whom I never got to know, are dead, and they might have been alive if those district rats hadn't turned the Capitol into a battlefield. You, Tigris, and my grandmother are all I have left. And I won't let anything happen to you or anyone take you away from me." He bursts out, keeping his voice cool, but you can clearly see the storm of emotions in his icy eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Coryo. The rebellion is over. We are safe. But they are not." You decide to back out of the argument with him.

"They don't deserve to be safe. Not after what they did to us, petal."

You don't say anything at his words. You just sigh and go to hug him.

He relaxes a little in your arms, wrapping himself around you just as tightly as you wrap around him. You are enveloped in his warmth and the delicate scent wafting from the rose he had pinned to his red jacket.

You know how Coryo suffered and how he sought an outlet for his pain. And you can't be surprised that he blamed the people of the district for his family's fate. That he hated them... but you didn't know how deep that hatred had grown inside him.

And how much it had grown the moment he found out from Lucy Gray that you had promised to make sure Odair won.

When he found out you chose that district boy above him in The Hunger Games, he fully understood what Dr. Gaul wanted him to say when she asked him about the meaning of the games.

Now he had to make sure that HE would become THE VICTOR. And not the underdog from 4 who tried to steal HIS woman.

"I hope I haven't caused you any trouble?" Finnick asks with that smile of his that makes you weak in the knees as you both walk around the arena.

You blush slightly, remembering last night.

"Here. Put this somewhere and change it when we get back from the arena. Then you two will be on TV." You tell him, handing him a bag of clothes through the bars. It is midnight. You shouldn't be here, and you might as well have given it to him in the morning, but... something pulled you to him. "If you are as charming as usual, you will win the hearts of the audience." You say, not knowing that he only cares about ONE heart.

"You're too good, angel. But I have something for you too." he says that and hands you a small bundle. You frown at him.

"I… I shouldn't…" You say, surprised, but he pushes the bundle into your hands anyway.

You look at him in a daze for a moment and unwrap the fabric. You gasp when you see the necklace. It is an ordinary black leather strap with a silver pendant with a fish that swallows its tail, thus creating a circle shape. There was a tiny pearl inside.

"If I were a rich man, I would give you something else... as a souvenir. But I'm not... but I really wanted for you to have something that will remind you of me. Please say something, or I might start talking nonsense that we'll both regret later and..."

You silence him by leaning in and kissing him through the bars. It's a gentle kiss, as tender as the tiny passage between the bars allows, but somehow he manages to grab your hand and cup your cheek carefully, brushing your skin with his thumb.

You feel tears welling up as you think about what it might have been like in another life, where there were no divisions into better and worse districts and the Hunger Games would never have existed... but this small moment stolen in the night between you two will have to be enough. That gentle brushing of your lips.

"No. Not at all. Do you already know what you're going to do on TV?" You ask, changing the subject, trying to keep from blushing as the two of you walk around the arena while you make mental notes of the best places to escape.

"Yes. I will recite a poem. Or, rather, a song. I will not compete with our dear Lucy Gray, and I will not sing. Want to hear?"

"Sure." You reply with a shrug, completely unprepared for what he had in store.

He clears his throat. He catches your eye and begins with a tone of voice so velvety and pleasant to the ear that it's impossible for you to perceive anything other than him. And certainly not the way your blonde friend was staring daggers at you with clenched fists, ignoring the scared look Lucy Gray was throwing his way.

"We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet."

You shiver as he finishes. He was only a small step away from you as he inched closer with each line he spoke, never taking his eyes off you. You are speechless. All you can do is look him in the eyes, watching as he gently brushes away your hair from your eyes.

"It's... it's beautiful. Did you write it?" You ask, snapping out of your daze.

"No. No, I don't. I believe this is 'My tears richochet' by Taylor Swift."

"Taylor Swift?" You repeat it stupidly, swallowing and trying to calm your rapidly beating heart that aches with the desire to kiss him. You know you can't. Not in the light of day. Never in plain sight. And it hurt you that you wanted a man who could never be yours.

"In another life, I would be a London boy." You laugh with him about it. Suddenly he looks around seriously, and when he sees that Coriolanus is the only one watching you, he takes a step towards you and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You're... I didn't expect anyone in the Capitol to have a heart. And certainly not as pure as yours, my sweet angel."

You shiver, unable to move away from him.

He leans down and steals you a quick but more passionate kiss than the first you two had shared under the cover of the night. His hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head as he opens your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moan. Common sense screams at you to step away, but you can't. You cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you, stealing another moment with him as he pushes you against a pillar, hiding you from anyone's view.

Before anyone can notice that you two have disappaired, there's a loud bang in the arena. You scream as you feel a warm gust of air make you fall onto your back. The combined scream of both Coryo and Finnick's calling your name and the pounding of your head is the last thing you hear and feel before you pass out.

Consciousness comes back to you very slowly. At first, you think you're dead, but the ringing in your ears and headache wouldn't be symptoms of a dead person on the other side.

That's why you open your eyes slowly and very reluctantly.

You hiss as the light from the hospital lamp hits your eyes. You cover them with your hand when suddenly you feel another one on yours.

"Everything's fine, petal. You are safe with me. Move slowly, take your time."

"Coryo?" You ask, pushing both your and his hands away from your eyes as you narrow them at him. You sigh with relief and hug the blonde, who is also in a hospital gown. You managed to notice a few scratches on his face before you cuddled up to him shakily.

"Shh... it's okay, my petal. Your parents were here. They waited through the entire surgery, and when the doctor told them you were stable, they went home to get clothes for you. They should be back here soon. Together with Tgiris and Sejanus."

"Surgery?" You ask in surprise, only now feeling the grip of the bandages on your head.

"They put a few stitches on your head. Fortunately, it wasn't as deep a wound as we thought it was. You scared me. And the others." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms tighter around you... like a snake.

"The arena... Finnick. Is he alive? What happened? Where is Finnick?" You panicked, moving away from him and ignoring his more affectionate than usual gestures. All you can think about is a district boy that you have grown to... to love in these few days when you got a chance to know him.

You don't see the anger rising in Coriolanus's eyes, nor do you recognise his fake tone as he pretends to be concerned. You're more concerned, scared, and distraught that you don't feel the weight of Finnick's necklace around your neck.

"He is dead. I'm sorry for your tribute, my petal." He says, slowly stroking your bare arms.

From the side, it looked like he wanted to comfort you, but he was only doing it because he wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips. Enjoy his reward. As well as that snow lands on top.

"What?" You ask in shock, not feeling his touch at all. Your world stopped. As if it were dying. You don't feel anything. Nothing at all.

"There was an attack of rebels. He didn't survive." He repeats it more emphatically, watching you carefully.

"No... no..." You shake your head, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. Tears that you don't even try to hold back. Just as your whole body trembles.

"It's not your fault, honey. You did an excellent job as a mentor. It could have happened to anyone."

"You do not understand! This isn't about stupid games! This is about him! About human life! How can you be so selfish and myopic?!”

You shout angrily, slapping your hands against his chest. Your tears are blurring any vision; you're still weak from the surgery, so when you get tired, he pulls you into his arms and presses your head to his chest, rubbing your back as you cry into him.

Into a man who took the opportunity to get rid of the inconvenience of your tribute. Along with the necklace he gave you. Coriolanus was furious when he saw it on your neck as he carried you out after pushing Odair right into the spot where, a second later, a large piece of debris fell from the ceiling.

Once again, Coriolanus' perceptiveness worked to his advantage.

And now you were his. Only his. He made sure there were no traces of Finnick Odair left. After all, his First Lady couldn't be sullied by a district boy.

"Don't cry over him. We are all we need anyway, my little petal." He whispers against your skin as he kisses away your tears.

You're too busy mourning your tribute and too drugged to do anything. So he uses this to his advantage and fucks your face with kisses before finally leaning in to taste your lips.

He moans into your mouth, not caring about the slightly salty taste of your tears, and gently wraps his hand around your neck. You mumble something into his mouth, pressing your hand against his chest to push him away.

But he doesn't give up. He sits you on his lap and places kisses on your neck. You gasp, clinging to him. He rests his forehead against yours and kisses you once again. He lifts your hands and makes you tangle them in his hair. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in until your chests are pressed together.

He ignores Lucy Gray's singing echoing through the private room in the hospital your parents bought for you to get better and holds you close to his chest, pressing tender kisses to your cheeks, lips, nose, forehead, and neck—everywhere his greedy, eager mouth can reach.

You can't move. Because of the drugs they drugged you with, so you can't feel pain, or because you don't want to move, you don't know yet. In some strange way, the feeling of closeness comforts you, and your stupid brain and heart try to trick you into thinking it's right. After all, Coryo saved you, and he always saved you. He was always there for you. Always close to you. Unconsciously, you start kissing him back. He moans contentedly, rubbing himself against you.

He refrains from doing anything more and pushes you off of him, keeping your head on his shoulder and his arms around you as he places small kisses on your temple and tenderly, occasionally reaching up to kiss your lips as the painkiller drip he unscrews a little makes you melt and surrender completely to him.

He holds you as you fall asleep in his arms, thinking about how he can make sure his songbird wins. He reduced her competition anyway by hastening Odair's death, but he must be sure that he wins Plinth's prize so he can finally claim you fully for himself. He wouldn't endure another district boy near you.

Coriolanus knew that hope was dangerous. Love was fatal and destructive if you didn't control the one you cared for. And jealousy... jealousy brought out people's primal, animal instincts.

Just like the Hunger Games.

He looks at your sleeping, peaceful form, and he presses a kiss on your lips. He smiles, seeing how cuddled up to him you were and how you were in need of his warmth and touch, of the security he provided and will always provide for you. You were worth every sin. His petal. His little angel. His future First Lady and mother of his children. He will adore you. You'd forget about this district underdog once he won; he was sure of it.

After all, he was the only victor Panem could have.

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leqonsluv3r · 4 months ago

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just thinking about…

masterlist taglist

leon kennedy being a good boyfriend despite all his trauma. despite all the horrors he’s faced that he has found something in you. that he actually trusts you more then anyone, probably one of the hardest things he’s ever done. that he loves you unconditionally. sure, it takes time, more time then it probably should but you don’t mind giving him that. you can see how much he’s been through just by the look in his blue eyes.

so you give him all the time he needs, you just be yourself and trust that its enough for him to open up to you and keep you close. you slowly and carefully see a change in leon that you didn’t before. you start to see his emotions peek out a bit. when he wakes up in the morning next to you in your shared bed, pulling you close to him instead of him rolling over. he buries his face in your neck, starting to instantly let the scent of your shampoo lull him into a state of relaxation.

like his body and mind even though in a heavy state of sleep, know its you.

he starts taking you out more when he’s not out on missions, taking you out on small dates. getting coffee down the street from your apartment. he even drives you around, letting you pick the music.

he’s finally understanding what everyone around him is talking about when they told him to find someone he could be around and be comfortable with.

he knew he wasn’t an easy guy to love but you…you were different. you were very persistent in a way he’s never experienced.

you latched onto him when he needed it the most, you probably could tell that without you he would be hanging on by a thread. the small shred of you had infected him and made him fall in love with you.

he started trusting you more, having figured out that by now you weren’t going to abandon him and leave. you were going to stick around and be a part of his life.

and he owed you his for simply being alive.

for continuing to date him when he came home with too many injuries from his last mission or when he woke you up from another nightmare. you didn’t judge him or ridicule him, you were there to clean his injuries and coddle him back to sleep.

something he would never admit out loud — but what his actions would show is — he needed your love and affection more then anything else.

and he knew he wasn’t a perfect boyfriend, he had his flaws as did everyone. but he was a good boyfriend and he did his best.

he took you out, bought you things you didn’t need and showered you with as much affection as man like him could muster. he brought you your favorite coffee every morning from a cafe on the days he was out running, he always heated up a bath for you.

he did things that made him a good boyfriend, things that you had never experienced before.

you both worked for each other in separate ways, but you fit. you worked. like fucked up puzzle pieces that somehow seemed to fit together.

he was damaged and broken, but when you found him, you gave him love and took care of him. you gave him something he had never experienced before and he did the same for you.

even if both of you subconsciously knew it, you didn’t say it out loud. you just lived and he continued to treat you as you deserved to be treated.

you would give him the world if you could and he would do the same in return for you. for all the times you’ve helped him and proven to him that he is worthy of love. something that seemed like a dream once upon a time.

but you made it a reality, you let him prove his love. you let him show you that he could love someone and do the same in return. he didn’t know if he could ever repay you for something like that.

he probably couldn’t.

so he would just love you instead.

and that was good enough for him.

an: this isn’t what you guys probably wanted this week but it’s what your getting bc i’m tired and i just worked 40 hours HASHSH. i love you all so much, pls reblog and like. kisses, xx.

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breadbrobin · 1 year ago

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lavender roses

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of persephone reader]

summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers

word count: 3.3k

(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)

(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)

———————————————

“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.

you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.

he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”

you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?

either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”

“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.

the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”

if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.

what the fuck. why would you say that?

chris was staring at you in shock.

your mouth was dry.

and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”

when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.

chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”

“i have no idea,” you breathed.

“do you think he knows?”

your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”

valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.

you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.

he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”

you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.

you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.

your arrow barely hit the target.

luke winced. “that was… better.”

you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”

he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”

“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”

“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.

you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.

“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.

“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.

“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.

you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.

he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.

you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.

“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”

you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.

your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.

luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”

your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”

he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”

then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.

february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.

but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.

“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.

you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.

“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”

“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.

“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?

you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”

“at two?”

“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.

his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.

at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.

your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.

even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.

she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”

you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.

she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”

“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.

you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.

then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”

you sat up. “what?”

“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.

you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.

you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.

holy shit.

becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”

you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”

she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”

as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.

“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”

“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”

“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”

you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.

it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.

you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.

luke was no where to be found.

great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.

just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.

“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”

he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.

shit. that would make things more difficult.

“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”

“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.

gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“

“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”

your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.

but he led you past the fields and into the forest.

great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.

you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.

you knew where you were going.

there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.

you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.

he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.

you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.

you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”

“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.

“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.

luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.

finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.

as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.

you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.

you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.

and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.

you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.

“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”

“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”

his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“

“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“

“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”

you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”

“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”

“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”

“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“you, what?”

he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”

you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”

“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.

“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”

he didn’t.

soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.

“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.

“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.

you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.

the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.

fucking hell.

you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.

the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.

he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.

and again.

and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #charlie bushnell

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missnxthingg · 1 year ago

Text

I KNOW PLACES ✮ LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x gf!reader (secret dating & childhood best friends to lovers) summary: Lando Norris and (Y/N) just started their relationship after years being best friends, but they are afraid that making things public might ruin what they worked so hard to build (based on 'I Know Places' by Taylor Swift) words: 3.8K - warnings: a few swear words and pure fluff! author's notes: Back into the fanfiction world, this time stepping into my newest obsession: F1. I hope you enjoy this new era!

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You stand with your hand on the waistline. It's a scene and we're all here in plain sight. I can hear them whisper as we pass by. It's a bad sign.

(Y/N) didn't know what was happening to her body. Maybe it was the hot weather in Monaco for the race weekend, or the small amount of breakfast she had before leaving the house. But every inch of her being was tingling, and it felt weird being under her skin. Out of all the times she had ever stepped into a Formula One paddock, this was the first one she ever felt like she was about to faint. After all, everyone was onto to find out her little secret.

Lando Norris, her best friend since she was only four, was at the McLaren garage when she arrived with all of his other friends. He was just doing his job; talking to sponsors and being the sunshine boy he has always been, making a good impression on people that needed to be impressed by him. But the conversation between Zac Brown and one of his team’s investors was long forgotten when his eyes spotted (Y/N) in the middle of the crowd.

She was simply walking alongside Max and his girlfriend, Pietra, when their eyes crossed in the paddock. Lando cracked the biggest smile and fixed his eyes on hers for a second, only to get his attention called by Zac again. He was soon dragged into the conversation again, only to be dismissed a few seconds later. Then, he played a whole scene, worthy of a goodman Oscar film.

The wind was blowing on his hair as he paraded towards her in the paddock, his curls moving beautifully with the pace. His hands were resting on his waistline, one of them sneaking under his McLaren shirt. She always thought he looked beautiful in his work attired, but damn it, this time Lando looked flawless in them. He had a soft smile resting on his lips and he could feel the heart beating out of his chest, wanting to jump onto (Y/N) from the second he saw her. Yet, he played it cool for the entire walk towards her. Nobody could know about them.

At that point, it had been three months and a couple of weeks since Lando and (Y/N) had finally got together after years of unconditional love and pinning after the other. They had met at a very early age, when their fathers used to golf at the same field every Saturday morning, and had been best friends ever since. After a while, they just couldn’t deny that their friendship had become something else, after years of her coming to all of his races in karting, F3 and, later on, F1. After all the times he rooted for her in university and had taken care of her when things got too rough. They just couldn’t deny they were in love with each other.

But Lando’s experiences with public relationships hadn’t been exactly… pleasant. So they both agree, after much talk, to keep it a secret from everyone to not ruin anything between them. This was too precious, and delicate, to have the bad energy bring them down right at the beginning of things. And ever since then, they had been so good at doing so. Yet, his fans had caught that something had shifted in the long term friendship. So now, they had to be very, extremely, careful.

“Took you too long”, he commented, shrugging as he stood right in front of (Y/N).

“Max was really enjoying the courtesy breakfast from the hotel”, she smiled at him, looking at his face right through her lashes. Lando just couldn’t help it, thinking she looked too cute, and he wrapped his arms around her, face burying in the crook of her neck.

“I’m glad you’re here”, he kept his voice low, only for her to hear it.

“Always”, she sneaked a kiss on his cheek before he moved onto talking to Max and Pietra.

Lando has showed affection for (Y/N) so many times before, with the hugs and tiny kisses here and there, but everybody knew it was different this time. Maybe it was the long starings or how they’d linger longer on the hugs. Or maybe it was him wanting to be around her every second he could. But the gossip social media pages and the whispers were getting louder. (Y/N) noticed it when they walked towards the McLaren motorhome, one of his hands soft resting in the middle of her back.

“Did you see that?” One girl whispered to her friend as she passed by, but (Y/N) couldn’t listen to the reply. All the whispers were deafening, and she wanted to scream. They weren’t a good sign.

Something happens when everybody finds out. See the vultures circling, dark clouds. Love’s a fragile little flame, it could burn out.

When Lando finally closed the doors to his driver room, (Y/N) felt the weight being lifted from her shoulders. She audibly sighed, and her boyfriend looked at her in worry. For a second, they looked at each other and laughed at their situation. They were damned.

“They are 100% onto us”, (Y/N) whined and Lando agreed with a nod, before pulling his girl for a hug. “Shit, we were doing so great with the hiding. I thought it was really going to last”.

“My fans should be hired as private investigators, I swear to God”, he joked before pulling her face up for a kiss. “Didn’t get a good morning one when I woke up”.

“Well, I can’t help it if you’re an early bird”, she giggled, leaving countless small pecks on his lips again. “I was tired from last night”.

“I finish you off just good, didn’t I?” He cheekily smirked before turning to his closet, pulling the fireproof undergarments he was required to wear before the suit.

“I didn’t need to know that”, Max commented as he opened the door and quickly was scoffed by Lando.

“Didn’t invite you to the conversation, mate. Get the fuck off my room!” Lando joked, but Max still found his spot on the couch. Pietra came in a few seconds later, settling close to (Y/N) just so they could laugh at the boys.

“We came in to say good luck on the race”, Pietra said, pulling Lando for a quick hug. “We know we’re late and that you need a moment with our girl. But just wanted to wish you the best”.

“She came to wish you the best. I came for the A/C”, Max joked, closing his eyes with the nice temperature of the room. Lando threw a cushion at him, making everyone laugh. Their brotherhood was the best. “But you know, we’ll be rooting for you and shit”.

“I know, mate”, Lando held his hand out to Max, who got up with his friends help. Even though they banter all the time, the boys hugged and smiled with their interaction. Just like (Y/N), Max had been there for Lando for as long as he could remember.

“We’ll let you alone with your lucky charm”, Max winked at (Y/N), who smiled widely at him.

They had barely closed the door when Lando attacked his girlfriend’s lips once again. (Y/N) was taken by surprise when she got lifted off the floor once again, but quickly melted into the kiss, slowing the speed down just to the soft pace that she liked.

“Easy there”, she said against his lips.

“My lucky charm”, he said back, not stopping the kiss for a single second. “Gonna make me get a podium just by being here. I got pole yesterday just because of you”.

“That’s what I’m talking about”, she smiled, breaking the kiss apart to speed him up. “Come on, you need to get dressed”.

“Wanna see me naked that badly?”, he joked, taking off his shirt to start changing into his race attired.

“I don’t need that. I already saw it last night”, she winked and Lando melted, bursting into laughing.

“I love you because we have the same sense of humour”, he took off his trousers, giving his girlfriend the view he knew she wanted to see.

“Well, but it’s never a bad sight to see”, (Y/N) smiled. Behind closed doors, it was so easy for them to be a couple. Her heart felt safe and it was like no one in the world could harm them. But anxiety always gets the best of her. One moment she was laughing and joking, and the other she was on the verge of hyperventilation.

Lando noticed it, though. “What’s wrong with you?”, he sat next to her, only wearing his underwear, when he saw the quick change of humour on his girl. From the very first moment he laid her eyes on her in the paddock, he could sense she was off.

“I love you so much, you know?” (Y/N) let a tear fall down for relief, and Lando quickly wiped it off with his thumb. “I don’t want them to ruin what we have”.

“They won’t ruin this, I promise you”, he pressed a long kiss to her cheekbone and she spilled a few more salty tear, they met his lips in seconds. “You’re safe inside my heart”.

“I can just see them ruining this for us, you know? The public”, she admitted. “The whispers and the blurry distanced images on social media. The comments.”

“I told you not to read the comments, baby”, Lando shook his head in disapproval and (Y/N) shrugged. “My love, this thing between us has been here for years. If everybody finds out, I will do everything that I can to protect you and what we have, okay? Don’t worry about it”.

“Okay”, she replied, hugging him once again. “I love you, Lan”.

“I love you too. So much”, he admitted, kissing the crown of her head.

Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns. They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.

Before he went on to continue with his pre-race routine, Lando stayed in his room for a while longer, just letting his girlfriend hold him for a little while. He was fucking terrified of the Monaco Grand Prix, specially because the race was very tricky; a driver against track kind of race. So having his girl alongside him calmed his heart. He had pole position. He was going to make it all worth it.

“Remember that I’m always with you”, she kissed him again before they got out of the room.

All Lando wanted to do was hold her hand until he was required to be inside his car, but since their situation was delicate and everyone already thought they were together, he just couldn’t risk it. So he held her hand for as long as he could, but had to let it go by the time they got close to the sea of photographers, all waiting for the pilots. (Y/N) stayed behind, ready to meet Max and Pietra to watch the race from the hospitality. He got one last look at her, who waved at him, giving a shot of confidence to his body. He could do it. And most importantly, he was going to give everything to bring this win to his girl.

Max quickly found (Y/N) lost between the crowd and pulled her to sit with all of Lando’s friends. The race was about to start, and the cars would be out at any second now. And yet, all she could think of was a group of people, sitting right behind her, and whispering while staring at her back. Annoyed, she turned around and squinted her eyes at them, making the group shut up. They were one hundred percent talking about Lando and her; it was visible because of the way they stared at her wrist, with one of his bracelets shinning brightly for the whole world to see. She brought it up to her hand, holding the number 4 charm between her fingers. It would be fine.

“I know why you’re like this for the entire morning”, Max whispered close to her ear. “Don’t worry about people. He loves you so much. Nothing bad is going to happen”.

“Yeah, I know that”, she nodded at him. “I love him so much too”.

(Y/N) let go of the bracelet, only to hold Max’s hands. They had been best friends too for the longest time. So after Lando, he was the one who provided her so much comfort and safety. Pietra did too, so it was nice when she left her post next to her boyfriend to hug (Y/N).

Baby, I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. Cause I know places we can hide.

Lando wasn’t a great fan of alcohol, but the taste of champagne on his lips after finishing P2 in Monaco felt so good. A weight taken off his shoulders to have finished on the podium. It wasn’t a win, but it was definitely the best result he had in his mind. “I’m just glad I finished the race”, he thought.

Staring down the podium, he found his girlfriend standing so excitedly for him, jumping up and down with the result. And as if it was possible, his smile widened at the sight and he shook the bottle to splash just enough to reach her downstairs. He was so happy. Genuinely happy, on top of the world, and no one was going to bring him down.

The post race interviews were taking too long for him, who desperately wanted to celebrate with his team, his friends and (Y/N). But when his PR team finally called him back to the garage, he went rushing to see the people he adored the most. He hugged a few people from his team as he arrived, and Max was the first friend he found and shared a long hug. From over his bestie’s shoulders, he spotted (Y/N) standing behind, with proud tears brimming her eyes and a big smile painted on her face. Lando immediately let go off Max and pulled his girlfriend just to hold her for a few seconds.

They could hear the cameras clicking around them and the people calling Lando, but he was in a trance. When (Y/N) was there, it was like the entire world didn’t exist. He was P2 in Monaco; the race that stresses him out so much from the very early moments of his career. And his girlfriend, the person he loved the most in the world since he was a little kid, was there to celebrate it with him. Life couldn’t get any better.

“My boy”, she whispered in his ear, her mouth very well hidden between them so no one could read her lips. “I’m so proud of you. I love you so much”.

“Thank you for being here. I love you more, baby”, his lips were also hidden, and it pained him that he just couldn’t openly say those words to her. “I can’t wait to kiss you, oh my God. I’m going insane”.

“Just a few more minutes”, she held his face between her hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek before giving space for other friends to talk to him.

Zac Brown took the longest time with Lando, giving him the post race pep talk he always needed. And by the end of it, at the rush of the moment, he admitted his new relationship to his boss, who laughed at the admission.

“I knew you were head over heels for this girl”, Zac said, giving Lando a few taps on the shoulder.

“We’re just keeping it a secret, between the closest friends, so nobody can ruin it”, Lando added to his confession. “But, yeah, (Y/N) is my dream girl and you know me. Can’t keep shit from anyone. I just wanted you to know”.

“Go celebrate it with her! You still have a few hours until we fly to Spain for the next race. Take her somewhere nice”.

“Where? This whole city is crowded with paparazzi and cameras. I just can’t risk it, Zac”.

“I know a place you can take her”.

Lights flash and we’ll run for the fences. Let them say what they want, we won’t hear it. Loose lips sink ships all the damn time. Not this time.

His driver room was getting too small to fit his love for (Y/N), and Lando felt like those four walls would eventually burst from the flames of his heart. He was getting irritated by having to hide it from everyone. But having her holding him and pressing delicate kisses to his face made him feel like everything was going to be just fine.

“I want to go out to celebrate it with you. Properly, as boyfriend and girlfriend”.

“Very funny, Lan”, she crossed her arms and he arched his brows at her attitude. “If you can magically find a public place, we can just be boyfriend and girlfriend without the prying eyes, I’ll gladly let you take me there”.

“Lucky for you, I have the best boss in the world.”

The paddock was absolute mayhem after the race, specially the bridge that connects it to the marina, where all the boats were anchored for the weekend. Lando tried to be subtle with (Y/N), not holding her hand as they walked in public, but after almost losing her among the people and the cameras flashing on his eyes. With much effort, he found her hands and laced them together, just so they wouldn’t get lost.

“Lando, what are you doing? People will see us”.

“Let them say what they want. I don’t fucking care”, he tightened his hold on her hand and dragged her to the marina. There were a lot of parties happening around the docks, with people enjoying their time post race to get drunk with other millionaires, who travelled all the way to Monaco for the luxury of the weekend. (Y/N) was actually very confused with where they were going.

“Why are we here?” She frowned, but he ignored, too busy looking for Zac around the place. His boss was waiting next to the boat, talking to the people who take care of his boat. A smile flashed on Lando’s face when he saw that everything was already arranged perfectly for him.

“Lando! (Y/N)! It’s all nice and ready for you”, Zac smiled at the girl, taking her hand to shake. “I talked to the commander, they are going to take you to a private place and I made sure they had a nice dinner prepped for you two, okay?”

“You’re the best, Zac. Thank you so much”, Lando hugged his boss and then let it go to help his girlfriend get into the boat. “And please delay my flight for another day, boss!”

“I’ll try my best, kid”

Lando and (Y/N) hid inside the boat while it shipped away from the shore. They were served with champagne as they waited for their getaway. Their boat was very tiny compared to the other ones that were anchored for the race weekend, but it was enough for a couple getaway for the night. Zac probably paid the team to keep their mouth shut and, that way, they could enjoy being together outside his flat for once.

“Okay, this is perfect”, she giggled, pressing a kiss to Lando’s collarbone, exposed by his button-up shirt. “God, today was so stressful for me. I’m actually tired”.

“Oh, me too”, he giggled. “I mean, I’m getting tired of all the hiding. Kind of want to go around screaming that I have the best girl in the world as my girlfriend”.

“Lando, we talked about this”. (Y/N) was afraid of the response she would get once they were public. If there’s someone who was going to suffer the consequences, it would be her. She would have to deal with the comments and the bad shit from the internet; not him.

“Loose lips sink ships”, he quoted the words his girlfriend said a few weeks before. “Not this time, okay? I won’t let people do this to you”.

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, my love. They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.

Enjoying this night with each other had been a dream come true. The peace, the quietness and the privacy from the ocean was everything they need. Somehow it gave them hopes that, even though it was hard, everything was going to be alright. After having dinner, prepared by the boat’s chef, they decided to enjoy some alone time out on the boat.

Lando took some amazing pictures of (Y/N) on the boat and they had a really fun time doing a small photoshoot. They pushed each other playfully and threw compliments that easily heated up each other’s cheeks. Not to mention the funny faces she did for the camera, making him think he couldn’t love her more. She was it for him.

“I hate being a broken record, but I do think your fans are on the verge of finding out about us”, (Y/N) broke the silence between them, that was filled by soft music they put on for their small photoshoot. “I mean, right now, I can just see their miraculous minds creating theories of why we left holding hands today. Or why did you linger longer while hugging me after the race”.

“Do you trust me?” Lando put his hand out for her and she laced their fingers together, as a silent ‘yes’ for her boyfriend. “You need to stop thinking that going public is an absolute nightmare scenario, alright?”

“I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”, she scrunched her nose and sighed. “I know. It’s just, I don’t know how you deal with the fame. It feels like we’re foxes and they are hunters, trying to catch us all the damn time”.

“Then we’ll keep running from them for as long as we need to”, Lando promised, pulling her closer to hug her.

(Y/N) took a moment to admire her boyfriend’s beauty. Her head resting on his shoulder and fingers trying to touch every inch of the skin of his face. “I’m so lucky to have you, Lan. It makes me feel so stupid that I waited too long to say that I loved you for the first time”.

“Well, I’m the luckiest too”, he said with the most beautiful smile on his face. “Without your endless support, and the love you sent me all day, I wouldn’t have performed so well today. Or any other day in my career. It doesn’t matter if you only get to kiss me now. You’ve been the most amazing person in my life for years now. I’m so glad I have you, (Y/N)”.

“I promise we don’t have to keep this a secrecy for much longer, okay?”, she rubbed circles on his cheekbone and looked between his eyes.

“We’ll run for as long as you need us to. And when you’re ready, the whole world will know how much I love you. I swear to God, I’ll buy thousands of drones to write a message in the sky just so everyone can know how much I love you”, he joked, making (Y/N). “But while you’re not ready, I know places we can hide”.

Baby, I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. Cause I know places we can hide. I know places…

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

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author's note: I don't have a taglist for F1 yet, so feel free to add yourself for future work! Hope to see you around soon. Come chat with me about the teams, I promise I'm nobody's hater on the grid.

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