#throughout my life he was the one showing me songs. He loved playing music on his computer

[gyubby99]

This song feels like a big warm hug 🥺

[ilovejoostklein]

heyy idk if you like ski aggu too but could you write a reader x ski aggu x joost fic with the reader being a rich, spoiled groupie who wants to hook up with them? tysm 💕

i love this omg.

-

I Want It All

You’re a rich, spoiled international student who wants nothing more but to meet your favorite musicians

nsfw: smut

-

You were bored, with too much money to know what to do with. You were an international student in Germany, spoiled rotten your parents hoped that being in a new country and acclimating yourself to a new environment would teach you some independence. In a way they were right, you’d come to this show completely alone, just telling your friends you’d done it spontaneously as a white lie. 

The truth is you’d planned to go to the concert for weeks in excruciating detail. Obsession was an understatement for what you felt for these two singers, Ski Aggu and Joost Klein. Your studies had bored you, school was always too easy thanks to your private school background and rigorous expectations set throughout your life, hard work came naturally to you and became more like a routine than a conscious effort. Spring was turning to summer, the heat, the flowers in full boom, vibrant green trees, and endless possibilities excited you to no end. You had your daddy’s money to waste, the world was like your playground and you’d become accustomed to getting what you wanted no matter what. 

You’d gotten tickets on a balcony to avoid getting overly crowded and to be under the bright lights for too long. You wanted to keep your distance from others, watching closely, singing along to some songs, and recording half the concert to have something to watch back on and show your friends. When the concert ended, you were probably the only one who wasn’t upset it was over.

You carefully snuck past the crowds and approached a security guard who was by the backstage area. After a bit of failed negotiation, it took slipping a few hundred euros into his hand you asked him if he could do you a favor and see if he could get you backstage. You embellished, saying that you were a huge fan and just wished that you could get a few of your CDs signed. It was partly true, you were a fan and had the CDs in your ridiculously expensive purse, but you had other intentions, or rather hopes. 

The security guard escorted you to the backstage area. It was quiet, the walls making the sound of the music that continued to play as people left muffled. All you could hear besides that was your footsteps and the heavier ones of the security guard, who was one of the tallest and scariest men you’d ever seen. It failed to intimidate you though, money always worked wonders to make a scary man sweeten up and tuck his tail between his legs. 

“What do you work as?” The man’s accent was a bit thick and he was forward, you noticed he was eyeing down your outfit

“My dad owns a company.” You answered with a smile, making the man chuckle and shake his head. “But I’m just a student.”

“You are wearing very expensive clothes, so forgive me.” He explained a bit apprehensively, worried he’d accidentally offend you, “Are you sure you just want CDs signed?”

You could tell he was asking as an offer, not over suspicion. You can see that he was willing to pull some strings for you, but you were confident you didn’t need extra help. You only smiled, nodding your head innocently before he led you to a door, knocking three times. You could hear the commotion coming to a halt, the loud conversation of two men, and the sound of a football match. 

“There’s a fan here for you.” The security guard announced loudly. “Very beautiful.” He winked. 

You felt your heart fall to your feet. It felt like an elevator crashing, dramatic and terrifying you stood there motionless as you saw your distorted reflection in the colorful glass the man across from you had. They were up on his forehead now, exposing his eyes that he’d kept hidden for the show. They were beautiful, murky blue like the middle of the ocean. 

“Sprichst du Deutsch?” He asked immediately, you shook your head a bit embarrassed. “Oh, so sad.” He frowned. 

You introduced yourself impulsively before asking your question, “I was wondering if you could sign some things for me.” You asked nervously, pulling out the CDs and a sharpie, one meant for Joost and one for himself. “Please.”

He hesitated for a bit, “Ja, sure.” He took his CD, signing it quickly. “Joost!” He called loudly out over his shoulder. 

Joost sat up from the couch, he had a cigarette between his fingers, grey smoke lingering around him. He looked better up close, taller than you’d expected, His eyes lingered on you, they weren’t invading or judgmental, but slightly confused. You didn’t speak and just gave him the CD just as nervously, watching as they scribbled their signatures. 

“You smoke?” Joost asked, as he handed you back the CD you felt his fingers graze yours. 

“No.” You felt that you were already disappointed, seeing his face make the same expression that Aggu’s had. “Sorry.” 

“Oh no, that’s good.” He suddenly smiled, stepping aside you felt your heart begin to race, blood rushing to your face and ears. “Do you want to come inside for a bit?”

You felt yourself enter almost a trance as you stepped inside the dressing room, smelling of expensive men’s cologne, pungent tobacco, and beer. You glanced over to see the security guard had since left, leaving you completely alone. You didn’t understand why you were so apprehensive now, regret creeping in confused you, after all, this is exactly what you wanted. 

“Did you come here all alone?” Joost asked, walking over to one of the couches and beckoning you over. 

“Yes.” You answered, smoothing down your skirt as you sat down, with both men at either side of you. The couch was warm and plush under your skin, you tried to relax by leaning back as you faced one of the handsome men seated next to you. “I got a ticket last minute.”

Joost smiled again, his eyes looking you up and down before settling on your purse. “You must be a rich girl.” He joked, “Are you studying here in Germany?”

You nodded, distracted by Aggu reaching over your thigh and putting a beer bottle in your lap. You winced at the coldness, holding it in your hands as he opened it for you and pushed it to your lips. 

“Here, you must drink if you don’t smoke?” Aggu asked, you felt his arm settle near your waist, his fingertips hardly touching your exposed skin. “It’s good, German beer.”

You hated beer, but you felt you were already starting on the wrong foot, making how spoiled you were too apparent. “I’ll try it.” You took a sip, grimacing a bit from the bitter, earthy flavor. “It’s fine.” You said when you realized they were anxiously waiting for your response. 

They chuckled, eyes fixated on you to the point it almost felt like you were naked. They looked down at your figure, wrapped away inexpensive, pristine clothing you looked completely out of place. They thought of their cheap CDs stuffed in your bag worth thousands, the blush on your cheeks, and mascara brushed on your lashes probably from luxury brands. They wondered why you of all people were at one of their shows. 

“You must have a boyfriend, no?” Aggu asked suddenly. “Why would he let you come here alone?”

You shook your head, and just like that a shared fantasy began to manifest itself. Aggu nodded with a strained smile, instinctively looking at Joost who was focused on his beer and crushing his cigarette, then at the door to tell him that he needed a moment of privacy. 

The two men excused themselves as politely as possible, saying that they wanted to go out to have a smoke instead of doing it rudely in front of you, but to help yourself to any more beers in the meantime. Joost shut the door quietly, leading Aggu to the closest exit. 

They stood outside, the night was a bit eerie, hardly any stars were visible as they were in the middle of Berlin, nothing was heard but the rustling of trees, and all they felt was the cool and against their skin that was quickly heating up. They were nervous, desperately needing a moment to gather themselves and decide what to do about you. It seemed like an opportunity fell into their laps, but it didn’t mean that it would be wise to take it. 

Even if there was tension between them, almost a sort of unspoken desire that they wanted the same thing, no one spoke. They smoked in silence for a while, the only sound of their breathing. 

“I want to fuck her,” Aggu said suddenly. His tone was shockingly, almost offensively casual as he lit his cigarette. 

Joost hesitated for a moment, flicking the lighter over and over as his cigarette burned and wasted between his fingers. He thought of you again, wondering what you were doing in the room all alone, and what thoughts were racing through your mind. He was strung out tonight, the show allowed him to get pent-up energy out, but never all of it. He smoked until he couldn’t bare it and drank enough to calm his nerves, but he realized that nothing would make him feel better than to fuck someone, it’s been so long, and seeing that you, how beautiful you were, and knowing you probably had enough money to buy him made you more attractive.

“I do too.” Joost finally answered, taking a short drag from his cigarette, wondering if Aggu was serious or just saying it as a vulgar compliment.

“We can fuck her together.” Aggu’s tone was still overly casual, it intimidated Joost as much as it began to excite him. “I think she’d like that.” 

It was subtle, his face was still as he felt overtaken by disbelief and reluctance as he’d never been in this situation before. He thought of it, a spoiled girl like yourself getting fucked by two men was beneath you, and knowing that only made him desire it to the point it was almost torturous. He didn’t realize he could want something this much, the fantasy replaying in his mind was tempting, and he didn’t want to let you slip through his fingers.

“How do you know that?” Joost questioned, his demeanor becoming standoffish. He couldn’t imagine the humiliation he’d feel if you turned them down, or worse preferred Aggu over himself. 

“Don’t be stupid.” Aggu threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. “Let’s go, I’m getting cold.”

Joost did the same with his half-smoked cigarette and trailed behind Aggu, watching from just outside the door as he entered back into the room. Your eyes lit up immediately, looking up at him with stars in your eyes he began to suspect that he’d been right about you. Closing the door behind him, he still stayed in the same spot, his back leaning against it.

What came next shouldn’t have surprised him. He watched as Aggu sat down beside you, a drunken smile on his face, hands smoothing down on your arms before he leaned over and kept his face close to yours. 

“Are you sure you don’t have a boyfriend?” Aggu’s voice had softened, his hand grasping your thigh making you instantly grow cold. “You’re too pretty.”

“I don’t.” You mumbled, staring directly at the floor you couldn’t find it within yourself to face him. 

You were allowed a moment away from his burning gaze but soon felt his fingers hold your chin and force you to turn your head. It was a bit jarring to see him without the ski goggles, but still, you couldn’t help but wonder why he’d willingly cover up such gorgeous eyes.

“Did your parents pay for your ticket?” Aggu questioned, your chest ignited with a combination of shame and excitement, you knew exactly what he thought of you.

“Kind of, they send me money often.” You admitted the look on his face made you instinctively squeeze your thighs together. Lust had completely taken over any sense you had.

“That’s cute.” Aggu’s hand squeezed down on your thigh, his thumb tracing circles against your soft skin. 

Everything about you was begging to be ruined. Your skin was almost unrealistically soft. He couldn’t imagine how high maintenance you were, how expensive your self-care products and your trips to the spa were. All for him to be able to hold you and eventually have his way with you. As he continued to touch your thigh, his eyes hadn’t left yours, leaning over he finally caved into his desires.

Joost couldn’t help but stare. He watched as your glossy lips parted and your eyes fluttered shut.  Aggu’s lips were plush against you, he watched as he brought you closer, his lips parting from yours only for his tongue lying flat against your neck the feeling made you squirm in his arms. The sight entranced him, he wanted to touch you but couldn’t find it in himself to move.

“Joost,” Aggu spoke against your neck making you squirm. “Stop watching, come here.”

He sat down next to you nervously. Aggu stopped kissing your neck for a moment to position you perfectly in the center so that Joost wouldn’t just have your back turned to him. 

You felt too many hands on you, squeezing your breasts, grazing over your waist, caressing your thighs. You couldn’t hold in the sounds you were making, the feeling of getting your neck kissed and their strong hands touching you was too much all at once. 

You couldn’t tell whose lips were softer, a minuscule detail you forced your thoughts to center on so that you had some sense of control. It was an empty effort, you were taken over by need and found yourself leaning towards one of the men for a kiss. 

You peeked through and saw you were kissing Joost, but the way his mustache scratched against your upper lip had given it away at first. The kiss didn’t last as long as you’d hoped, Aggu, impatient and a bit jealous moved your cheek so that you’d kiss him instead. 

“Don’t make us fight.” Aggu teased, one strong hand squeezing down on your breast as he kissed you.

You felt Joost press his lips against the corner of your mouth, the two men had become so desperate it intimidated you how strongly they were coming onto you. You began to wonder if you could handle going any further, two men kissing you at the same time was already overwhelming. 

You watched as their lips accidentally grazed each other’s, hearing them chuckle before they took turns kissing you on the lips. It cooled the tension for a moment, you were surprised that they could get along so well. 

You felt Aggu kiss your neck as Joost held your chin in his hand and brought you into a much softer kiss. Aggu was the first to begin to undress you. He carefully slid down the strap to your shirt, as eager as he was, when he saw that you slid the other down for him he took it as a sign to continue. 

You practically felt your clothes torn off your body by them both, stripping you bare as if you were teasing them for hours on end. Joost had left your lips puffy from his greedily passionate kiss, and the delicate skin on your neck throbbed from how many love bites Aggu left. They took everything off except for your stockings. They were black, slightly sheer, and sitting atop your lingerie. It wasn’t blatant with garter and intricate designs, but it was clear you’d made an effort.

“This is very nice,” Joost remarked as he squeezed down on your breasts, you felt yourself burn at the slight smirk on his face and the way he glanced at Aggu. “It’s very nice, isn’t it?” 

“I feel bad for your boyfriend, waiting at home for you.” Aggu teased, “Do you always wear things like this under your clothes?”

You couldn’t answer. You felt Aggu rest his hand on the back of your neck and guide you down so that you were now lying on your side. Your cheek rubbed up against the rough fabric of his dark jeans, you could smell the faint cologne and cigarette smoke, it nauseated and excited you.

Joost’s hands held your waist, gently moving you to the side so that you’d be lying on your stomach. He heard him sit up, the blood abandoning all your limbs to rush towards your head. You felt the room spinning as Aggu played with your hair, alternating from smoothing it down his gently to twirling a few strands around his fingers and tugging at it.     

Joost was behind you, his hands running down your back like stones skipping in the water, you shivered under his touch with anticipation. His fingers grazed against you softly, soon settling on your ass and grabbing and kneading down. You heard the two men share a laugh, Aggu leaning over to spank you a few times. Internally, that was the final moment of sanity you had left. You were never so desperate to be touched, you felt like it was almost cruel and were moments away from begging them. 

“Are these stockings expensive?” Joost asked softly, his hand rubbing down to soothe where Aggu had slapped.

“Uh,” You began, trying to remember where they were from, “I think they were a hundred euros or something.”

The room fell silent for less than a second before erupting in soft laughter. It was mocking, you felt ridiculed but strangely from the way they held you, Joost’s hand rubbing down on your back as Aggu continued to gently pet your hair the shame excited you. 

“You’re crazy.” Joost chuckled, staring down at the stockings he felt an intrusive thought naw at him. “You can get them for 5 euros at any store you know?”

Of course, you knew, and of course, Joost did as well. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise how fixated he was on your stockings when after a while of his hands running up and down the sheer, thin material he bunched them up as his hands and soon you heard the first sound of the threads snapping loose. 

The sound of tearing had again silenced the room but was intertwined by Joost’s first sound of pleasure. He groaned softly as he watched the fabric tear and split, like a present revealing your soft skin underneath. It invigorated him, relinquishing the power you had over to him and having complete freedom to make you a part of his fantasy. 

“I’m sorry.” Joost offered the apology, not necessarily regretting it but he didn’t want to upset you. “I’ll get you new ones.”

“The ones that cost five euros?” Aggu chuckled, getting a slap on the side of his arm in response. 

Joost finished undressing you completely, and soon everything had completely settled into reality for you. The coolness of the room should’ve helped to prevent how you burned up inside, a fire deep in your stomach and rushing over your body. You had lost a bit of sense, positioning yourself in a way that better to be fucked, and with your free hand, you tugged on Aggu’s belt.

“Zo wanhopig, so desperate,” Joost mumbled, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you back. “Are you comfortable like this?”

You looked back at him over your shoulder, nodding a bit apprehensively. As much as you wanted it you didn’t feel quite ready, but it was as if Joost heard and granted your internal wish. As Aggu continued playing with your hair and letting you palm him through his jeans, you felt Joost’s breath against your backside. 

He drew apart your thighs gently, leaning down, he kissed the backs of your thighs before he began to lick against your pussy. You couldn’t help but become immediately vocal. You whimpered with every movement, writhing your hips against his mouth selfishly. He didn’t seem to mind if anything he encouraged it as his fingers dug into your hips and kept them in place.

Aggu could only see Joost’s head from behind, but the only way thing he wanted was to watch the blissful expression on your face. As nice of a sight it was, paired with the sounds you were making soon made him grow impatient. It was like his body had a mind of its own, before he knew it his clothes were thrown messily in a pile near the couch and he was pushing his cock into your face.

He nudged it on your cheek to encourage you to open your mouth. You couldn’t describe the feeling that completely engulfed your senses. It was as lustful as it made you feel overly exposed. You’d never experienced anything close to this, and the fleeting thoughts of what your friends and your family would think if they knew. You couldn’t help but feel invigorated by the fact that it was so wrong and unlike you. 

Aggu could tell you were trying to maintain whatever poise you had left as you sucked him off. It was cute at first, you felt as he smoothed your hair out of your face and softly praised you, but as you withdrew too often as Joost eating you out was too overwhelming. Just like Joost held your hips in place, Aggu’s hands pulled your hair and shoved his cock into your mouth as softly as he could. 

The way you gagged against him drove him wild, it took every bit of constraint not to fuck your mouth as hard as he could. He relinquished some control, letting you take the lead. It soon dawned on him, from the look in your eyes that was far from begging but satisfied that he was just feeding into how spoiled you were. You came for CDs and now had Joost on his knees eating you out and Aggu aching for when it was his turn. 

As much as you didn’t want this to end, you felt your orgasm build steadily and you leaned desperately into chasing that feeling. Your legs grew unstable, you pushed yourself against Joost’s mouth and felt the enthusiasm reciprocated from how he hummed against you and sunk his fingers into your flesh. 

You cried out incoherently, Aggu’s cock hanging out your mouth as he let you ride out your orgasm against Joost’s tongue. He didn’t stop, the overstimulation sending electric bolts through your spent body. Your body ached with pleasure, every muscle relaxed, your heart pounding into your ears as your mind settled into a heavenly state. 

“You taste so good.” Joost’s face was now next to yours, you felt his breath against your neck making you shiver. “Give me a kiss.”

He brought you into a quick, sloppy kiss. His tongue shoved into your mouth, filling it with the taste of you. It was strange, not unpleasant but you’d never had anyone kiss you directly afterwards, especially like this. 

“Let me see.” Aggu pulled you up and kissed you a bit most gently, tasting remnants of yourself on your soft lips. “Get back on your knees and help Joost out.”

He was authoritative, yanking your hair and manhandling you before he spread your legs the same way Joost had, 

“Wait-“ You protested, overwhelmed, your head foggy and confused as you felt Aggu press a kiss against your sensitive clit. 

You were melting under their touch, your lips wrapped around Joost’s cock as Aggu ate your pussy just for the sake of tasting you. Once he was satisfied, you heard the sound of plastic tearing which made you burn with anticipation. 

“You want me to fuck you, Schatz?” Aggu cooed, his hand delicately smoothing down your back. “Hm?”

“Yes,” You withdrew from Joost’s cock before he guided your head back to pleasuring him. “Please, I need it.”

It was quick and sloppy. You felt completely used and you loved it. Aggu’s tip stretched you out, it burned with pleasure with every movement, matter how much you winced and grunted from the discomfort it was all worth it when he bottomed you out. He filled you up perfectly, the way his big hands felt against your hot skin made you grow weaker. The two men had made indentations of your hips, their infatuation with you, your body, the way you were like a little gift from the universe dropped into their lap.

You were an absolute dream. Joost watched as you gave him head, not being able to focus completely on the obscenities in the room. He listened to you spit on his dick and suck him off, the sound of your groans entertained with his own, and skin slapping from Aggu pounding into you. It was nothing less than a fantasy. He wondered how many people would kill just to get to watch.

“I’m gonna cum.” Joost sighed, breaking the tension momentarily, “Just like that, such a good girl.”

You felt it was almost rewarding to have them both in the palm of your hand. It was better than your climax to bring them both to that point, the two men panting and mumbling incoherent praises as they fucked you. They took turns kissing you just to see how you tasted. You began to truly believe there wasn’t anything in this world you couldn’t have. 

Joost came in your mouth without warning, bringing you back harshly to the reality of the room. Hearing his groan and cry out your name as he desperately bucked his hips into your mouth was the most incredible feeling. You swallowed without a second thought, eagerly licking against the shaft and tip as he watched a bit dumbfounded. 

“Oh, god.” Joost sighed, his eyes and voice weary. “You’re perfect.” He pinched your cheek lovingly before giving you a tired smile. 

Aggu’s pace at first was controlled, he didn’t want to make you overwhelm you as you took. care of Joost, he was a good friend after all. He wished he wasn’t so close, but seeing you suck Joost off and lap up his cock when he was done was too erotic, he wished he’d looked away, but the sounds alone could’ve gotten him off.

He tried to last longer, thinking of something to turn him off,  like the hangover he’ll have the next morning, the thought of packing up all his shit to get on a plane to the next show. It was all an empty effort when you looked over your shoulder. The way your eyes met his immediately, big, pleading with your eyebrows knit together in bliss. He put you on your back, with a few quick motions treating you like a doll so he could finish himself off. 

Aggu’s hands molded into yours, like hot glass,  so delicate and vulnerable. You didn’t notice how many hands were on you, Joost helping Aggu and positioning himself at the side of the couch. His lips suddenly pressed against your nipples, drawing out a pathetic sound. Two fingers pressed onto your clit, rubbing down as Aggu’s pace became punishing. 

Your body moved with his, staring up into his eyes you never wanted to look away. Your body was no longer yours for a few seconds, you’d completely surrendered to their touch and pleasure. Your orgasm had built up as quickly as it washed over you. Your body convulsed with pleasure, unexpedelyh which made it that much more intense. Aggu felt you clench around him, watching your blissful expression and feeling you soak his cock he couldn’t take it. 

He soon followed after you, being far more vocal than both you and Joost. His moans were deep and drawn out, pumping himself inside of you a few more times before he practically collapsed beside you. 

It was a tight fit, Aggu’s body was muscular, warm, and a bit tacky with sweat. Joost’s hands rubbed up and down your body to soothe you. Their tenderness was comforting, despite the fact this was all purely out of lust. 

Your body felt heavy, wrapped in Aggu’s arms you watched as Joost got up and went over to the corner of the room. You watched a bit confused as he took some crumbled bills from his wallet and stuck them in your purse, not before leaning down and kissing you. 

“Sorry about the stockings.” 

-

guys i’m sorry for being inactive! i had some summer courses i was finishing up. i’m working on recs so ty to everyone for ur patience :)!

[onlyangel4]

Are you able to do a lando smau. Where the reader is a singer and she releases a song, dress by Taylor swift, pretty much admitting that’s she’s in love with lando and they’re like childhood friends or something. If you aren’t that’s ok👍🧡

dress. ln4. smau.

lando norris x best friend!reader

a songwriter puts every life experience into their songs, it is no different for you. but putting out a song that is about how you are in love with your best friend might complicate things. especially when you know he is going to hear it.

faceclaim: dylan

y/nfan posted a story

written: y/n just played an unreleased song at her show in birmingham. i will not spoil the song but it is steamy af. sounds like mother might have a man.

ln4updates

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 56,092 others

ln4updates: we are getting lando y/n crumbs this weekend. an interviewer just asked lando what he thinks about y/n's rise to success and he said, "i am so incredibly proud of her, i feel like we have been supporting each other so much throughout the years. she used to come help me set up for karting races and i went to small pub gigs that she performed with. i am so glad that she is finally living her dream like i am."

view all 582 comments

user1: lando y/n admit you are madly in love with each other challenge

user2: he always lights up whenever he talks about her it is the cutest thing ever

user3: i am new to f1 and i had no idea that lando knew y/n and now i am finding out they have known each other since they were ten year old omg

user4: my fav f1 friends

y/ninsta posted a story

written: what do we think? do you guys deserve new music this week?

landonorris replied to your story: you have a new song coming out that you haven't shown me?

y/ninsta: i wanted this one to be a surprise

y/ninsta

liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, gracieabrams and 765,283 others

y/ninsta: i am delighted to tell you that my new song, dress will be yours at midnight. this is a song that i wrote at 2am on a sleepless night. i am incredibly proud of this song and i hope you guys love it as much as i do.

view all 12,739 comments

landonorris: can't wait to give it a listen

comment liked by y/ninsta

sabrinacarpenter: so proud of you

y/ninsta: thank you my love

user5: we all know this is about lando right?

user6: finally someone is saying what i have been thinking

y/nlandofan

liked by user7, user8, user9 and 23,485 others

y/nlandofan: chat are we all thinking the same thing?

view all 176 comments

user7: i fear we might be

user8: it has to be about him

user9: it is her best song yet but she has deffo outed herself for having feelings for lando

f1wags

liked by user10, user11, user12 and 45,983 others

f1wags: singer and childhood friend of lando norris y/n y/ln spotted in the paddock ready for race day. this is the first time she will be spotted with lando after releasing her new song, dress, which fans are speculating is about lando

view all 862 comments

user10: i really hope they are dating

user11: y/n is in the paddock, maybe lando does actually have a chance at winning

user12: mclaren's good luck charm is back

ln4updates

liked by user13, user14, user15 and 168,981 others

ln4updates: holy shit what a grand prix! lando won with a 22 second lead and we have lando y/n confirmed. at the end of the race lando's radio message said, "y/n i know dress is about me, i love you" and then when he got out the car he ran straight over to her giving her a hug before throwing his helmet off and kissing her. my heart is so full i love this couple.

view all 3,495 comments

user13: omg omg omg

user14: war is over

user15: that radio message made me cry

user16: y/n just sobbing into his chest omg

landonorris

liked by y/ninsta, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 1,283,723 others

tagged: y/ninsta

landonorris: stream dress

view all 39,837 comments

y/ninsta: omg that pool party picture is from my 21st birthday

landonorris: that was when i realised i wanted to be more than friends

mclaren: mum and dad

user17: the fact that the official mclaren account is commenting this is so funny to me

user18: the couple we all need

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

TAGLIST SIGN UP SHEET

taglist: @formulaal @formulaonebuff @danielshoe @noooway555 @dilflover44

@peterholland04

@sunshinedaisy21

@nikfigueiredo

@fall-bambi

@mel164

@lando-505

@charllleclerc

@paigem00

@heavy-vettel

@pseudoyo

@simple-soul-searcher

@lyannesworld

@wordesthatics

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@sltwins

@aquamariene-me

@justarandomfamdomblog

@janeh22

@kol67-t

@gr3yhues

@luckyladycreator2

@nichmeddar

@multi-fandom5

@whatthefl1p

@stradlingmrstradlin

@notpeachybby

@kikiki04

@marknolee

@asparklysoul

@sleutherclaw

@stinging--nettle

@holybatflapexpert

@gothicwidowsworld

@pear-1206

@scorpiodiosa

@charlesgirl16

@marshmummy

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok So who is down for a bit of a wild Eddie Diaz is Freddie Mercury theory that is actually based in colour theory?!!

Yeah, yeah, I know that sounds insane but hear me out!

So Freddie superstar queer man of moustache wearing fame who also happened to sport a swept back floppy haired look in the 1980’s

Remind you of anyone??

Yeah - similar hairstyle and moustache! Keep that in mind as we continue!

Did you know that he never actually confirmed his sexuality publicly?

He hinted at it in the lyrics of Bo Rhap - which he wrote (and released with Queen) in 1975 when he was figuring things out. At that time he was in a relationship with a woman (Mary Austin - who he called his wife even though they never married. They remained best of friends and she was at his side when he died - he left her most of his estate) but had an affair with a man - and was also dealing with religious and childhood trauma (he was sent to catholic school and had a difficult upbringing at the hands of his mother). Bo Rhap was Freddie sorting through all of his feelings around his sexuality - the lyrics can be interpreted in many ways but the other members of Queen have spoken about its meaning being clear and personal to Freddie at the time. So ‘mama’ is a reference to the Virgin Mary and also to his mother - playing on both his childhood and religious traumas, saying he didn’t mean to make them cry is about not wanting to disappoint them but also about needing to be true to himself. ‘Just killed a man’ is about the death of his heterosexuality. I could go on (I can always write a post explaining the lyrics more fully if that is something that would interest anyone - Queen and Freddie were a hyperfixation of mine as a teenager!!) but I won’t in order to keep to my actual wild theory!

Now I wonder who that sounds like?? Childhoood trauma at the hands of his mother, catholic upbringing that didn’t fit with who he is, relationship with a woman who he loved but didn’t love the right way?? Yeah that sounds remarkably like a certain Edmundo Diaz if you ask me.

Now the moment Freddie actually ‘came out’ without actually coming out and essentially confirming he was not straight (there is debate about if he was gay or bi because he referred to himself as bi) was when he released ‘The Great Pretender’ in 1987 - when he was diagnosed with HIV/AIDS (he had been showing symptoms since 1982 but he also never actually confirmed his diagnosis until the day before his death in 1991) The reason this is significant in relation to Eddie DIaz is multi fold!

Firstly this was the moment Freddie chose to shave off his moustache as a symbol of not hiding who he was anymore and he never grew it back. So for Freddie Mercury his moustache was a literal mask and not a symbol of his queerness. The song is literally about coming out to the world and confessing and not hiding who you are and about wanting to fit in even though you are different. When we have had Episodes titled Masks, confessions, and have wannabes coming up - and we have Eddie Diaz shaving off his moustache as a symbol of not hiding any longer - choosing to embrace his true self - that’s a pretty loud parallel if you ask me.

Now to the colour theory of it all - because you see we have pink coming to the party for both Eddie and Freddie!

Freddie wore this wonderful double breasted pale pink satin suit for the promotional photographs and for the music video of ‘The Great Pretender’ and the scenes he wore it for in the music video were the ones that symbolised him being his true self as he reflected back on his life and all the various costumes and ‘disguises’ he wore throughout his life and career.

And now we’ve had Eddie in Pink for two very key scenes - the only time he has worn pink in the entire show.

Firstly we have the karaoke scene with Eddie in his Crockett and Tubbs pale pink suit and dark pink shirt.

And then we have Risky business Eddie in a pale pink shirt

Both times Eddie has worn pink pale pink have been in connection with being shown his true unmasked and unfiltered self - at the karaoke we see him letting loose and just enjoying himself, and then we have the newly shaven Eddie dancing the Risky business dance finding joy in something. They’re both scenes about Eddies joy, his freedom and him expressing himself. They’re about showing the audience who the real Eddie is - when he isn’t weighed down by all the other things in his life.

Oh hey look, its not even just the pink parallels of it all because we also had drag queens in the great pretender music video (L-R Roger Taylor, Peter Straker and Freddie Mercury) just like we did in the Karaoke scene.

And then we have the green and pink parallel!

Because something I have been side eyeing hard since we first got the stills for the karaoke scene is the colour swap for Buck and Eddie. This was the first time we saw Eddie in pink - in any real colour colour to be honest - Eddie has stuck to a pretty rigid colour palette since he first appeared in Under pressure (oh look yet another Queen reference!) always in muted shades rarely wearing anything bright and generally in a green, grey, blue, black and white colour palette with a little bit of burgundy/maroon thrown in. The only time we’ve really seen him in anything close to a bright colour is the yellow shirt from 601 which we have just seen again in 806. Buck however has worn pink on numerous occasions (Mays graduation party, the tsunami, the hilly coffee maker scene, when Chim figures out Buck knew where Maddie was scene etc etc) and so it is a staple colour for him. Mint green however is not a colour he wears - in fact Buck wearing green more generally is not common at all (especially outside of break up scenes!). So I was already looking for significance in the colour choices that had been made - but didn’t have all the pieces (and not just because the actual karaoke element of the scene had been cut) - until now! Now it is very clear that wardrobe and ABP have to have been given specific colour instructions about Eddies costume colour - because they needed it to play into the Freddie Mercury concept - the pink suit and the swept back hair, the drag queens - the entire thing was a nod to the great pretender and basically the kicking off of a queer arc for Eddie - now backed up by the 806 scene.

I wrote at the time in my meta about pink being the colour for the season and being a play on innocence and naïveté - which did fit with this scene and Eddie in this scene, but it also felt like it wasn’t the entire answer - with the context of the risky business Eddie scene though - now it is making sense - it is about showing Eddie letting go and being free, but it is also symbolic of Eddie becoming lighter (and no I don’t mean in terms of the fact he seems to only wear half his clothes when he’s in pink!) as he allows his true self to see the sunlight.

It also gives us this very interesting parallel/mirroring - Eddie in Pink - Buck in green - in both scenes - the framing is the same - right down to Eddie drinking his beer!

Notice how the tone has swapped though - Eddie darker toned in his darker pink shirt while Buck is super pale in the mint green - switched to Eddie in the super pale pink while Buck is in the very dark green. In S7 both are in relationships and they’re all over each other - because it is ‘safe’ to do so - its the most intimate we’ve ever actually scene them (physically I know they’ve metaphorically been closer) Then when they’re both single they’re keeping a foot apart!

The parallel is a really interesting one - this idea that the episode before - in 705 both Buck and Eddie nearly end up single but choose to stay/ pursue relationships that are not the right fit for them - highlighted by this karaoke scene showing who there person actually is - now backed up by the final scene of 806 - reversed colours and all - showing who their person is after both relationships have ended. The light and dark of both scenes plays into who is in the better place in that moment - So Buck was in the best place in 706 while Eddie is in 806. The other aspect of the two scenes is the loud v quiet. Bucks bi arc being a loud and bright colourful affair full of drama etc, while Eddies is taking a more sedate and quiet route - much like the quiet of a scene where they just sit together in silence. This is a reflection of what each needs in those moments - Buck needed the world to accept him and his bisexuality in 706 and in 806 its about Eddie accepting himself. Their journey’s from here on out are the opposite - Buck now needs to sit in the silence and accept himself while Eddie needs the acceptance of the outside world (namely his parents and Chris) they are holding mirrors up to each other and it perfectly highlights their respective personalities and wider journeys. It also reflects the duality of Freddie Mercury himself - a complete showman - confident and full of charisma on stage - off stage however he was, by all accounts a quiet and unassuming but complex man who accepted himself privately but wasn’t able or wiling to share all of himself with the world (as was and is his right).

So the Freddie Mercury parallel that it seems Tim is playing into is very loud and telling and the colour theory is backing it up perfectly so far.

This is a rambling mess - it’s 2:30am and I should be asleep so apologies if it makes zero sense, but I hope it does!

[awkward-walking-potato]

I think Remy would like Princess and the Frog.

So how bout a Remy x Reader, where they go see it in theaters?

Under the Crescent Moon

The night sky was clear, and the air was warm with that unmistakable Southern humidity that clung to your skin like a soft embrace. You leaned back in the passenger seat of Remy’s classic Chevy truck, the windows rolled down as a warm breeze drifted in. The two of you had been planning this for weeks—heading to the drive-in to catch a late-night showing of The Princess and the Frog. It was one of those rare quiet moments where there were no missions or mutant troubles to worry about.

Remy had been surprisingly excited for this. The moment he found out that the movie was set in his hometown of New Orleans, his eyes lit up with that familiar mischievous sparkle.

“Y’know, chérie, you gonna love dis one. It’s all ‘bout my home. And trust me, dere ain’t no place like New Orleans,” he’d said with a grin when you suggested it. Now, sitting in the truck, you could feel his excitement.

The screen ahead flickered to life, casting a soft glow over the scattered cars. As the opening credits rolled and the first notes of jazzy, soulful music filled the air, you glanced over at Remy. He was leaning back, arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes were glued to the screen, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Throughout the movie, Remy would lean over, whispering little bits of trivia about New Orleans into your ear. “Dat’s Jackson Square,” he’d murmur with pride, or, “Dere’s Cafe du Monde. Ain’t no better beignets in da world.” His Cajun accent was as thick as ever, tinged with nostalgia as he saw his home come to life on the big screen.

You smiled at how he seemed just as enchanted by the movie as you were. It was the kind of story that felt close to his heart—about love, about hope, about home. As the movie moved into the love story between Tiana and Naveen, and the firefly Ray sang his sweet song to his beloved star, Evangeline, you could feel Remy’s hand slide into yours. His touch was warm and grounding, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, soft and full of something deeper than the playful flirtation he was known for.

“You know, chérie,” he said softly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand, “Ray, he got it right. Sometimes, de best t’ing you can do is look up at de stars and hold on to someone you love.”

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. “You think so?”

“Mmhm,” he nodded, his gaze shifting to the sky for a moment before settling back on you. “Ray had his Evangeline. Always chasin’ her, dreamin’ of her, even when she was far away.” His eyes flickered with a kind of tenderness that made your breath catch. “You… you’re my Evangeline, chérie.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but feel a little emotional. Remy wasn’t always one to speak from the heart like this. He loved to tease, to flirt, but when he got serious—when he dropped his guard and let you see the man behind the mask—it was overwhelming in the best way.

“I’m your Evangeline?” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of the movie.

He chuckled, nodding as he tilted his head, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Oh, cher, don’t you know? I been searchin’ de skies for you all dis time.” He squeezed your hand gently, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Ain’t nothin’ in dis world or up in de stars dat shines as bright as you do to me.”

You felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the humid Louisiana air. He always had a way with words, making you feel like the most cherished person in the world. The kind of love that Remy offered wasn’t flashy or loud—it was the quiet, unwavering kind, like a soft Southern breeze, comforting and ever-present.

As the movie came to its emotional conclusion, with Tiana and Naveen finally finding their happy ending, Remy pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. The fireflies twinkled on the screen, and you couldn’t help but think that this moment felt like something out of a fairytale.

“Dis movie got it right,” he murmured against your hair, his voice warm and low. “It ain’t about riches or fancy t’ings. It’s about home. ‘Bout de people who make you feel like you belong.” He paused, his fingers gently running through your hair. “And you, chérie… you’re my home.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your heart full. He was staring down at you with that look in his eyes—the one that was softer than the moonlight, more sincere than any words he could ever say.

“I love you, Remy,” you whispered, the words coming so easily, like they’d always been there, waiting to be spoken.

He smiled that lazy, affectionate smile that you loved so much. “I love you too, mon amour,” he whispered back, leaning down to brush a soft kiss against your lips. The kiss was sweet and slow, lingering in the warm night air.

When you pulled back, Remy turned his gaze toward the sky, pointing to a particularly bright star twinkling above you. “Look up dere, chérie. See dat star? Dat’s our Evangeline.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, your fingers lacing with his. “Think she’s watching over us?”

Remy chuckled softly, nodding as he gazed at the sky with a fondness that mirrored Ray’s love for his star. “Oh, she’s watchin’, alright. And she knows just how lucky I am to have found you.”

The credits rolled on the screen, but neither of you moved to leave. The night felt too perfect, too precious to end just yet. So, you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, under the crescent moon and the twinkling stars, feeling like the luckiest people in the world.

And as the fireflies danced in the distance, Remy leaned down and kissed you once more, his lips lingering on yours as if he never wanted to let go. Because for him, there was no place more magical than being right here, with you, his own Evangeline

[bornagainmurdock]

harmonious

author's note: hi omg thank you anon for this request! i was a band and orchestra kid and love love love this idea! i decided to go with cellist, not sure why but i have strong feelings about matt loving cellos.

contents: fluffy, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, meet cute technically, and then a series of cute dates, first kiss

word count: 1.9k

Matt had been a regular at the syphony since he had graduated law school. It was a nice constant in his life knowing that every month on the third Friday he could go to the music hall and hear music. Various guest musicians shuffled through, each featured for one show before traveling to a new city to guest, but tonight was something different: a member of the symphony was being granted a guest spot, performing as the soloist for the week.

You had started playing cellos what felt like eons ago. Playing felt like second nature, so when you were offered the guest spot for April, you accepted on the spot, already having put together a concert's worth of music to perform.

Matt had heard your name before. You had features every now and then in pieces. Since he was a regular, the music hall started printing braille programs for him. He liked running his finger over your name. It was his favorite song. So when he heard you were the soloist, he couldn't have been more excited.

He hadn't spoke to you, but had heard you speaking in the lobby post shows talking to your family and friends that had attended.

Tonight, the night of your headlining show, Matt spent an extra hour getting ready, trying his best to look pristine and perfect, not a hair out of place. He had asked Karen to help him find some nice cuff links for the show a few weeks back, so tonight when he finally unboxed them, he pressed over them with his fingers as he clasped them and smiled. Two little metal silver forte designs.

At the show, Matt recevied his braille program, finding his way to his usual seat and dancing his touch over your name over and over, excited and smiling the whole time.

When the curtain rose and the auditorium fell silent, Matt wiggled in his seat, placing the program in his lap to clap the director providing your introduction.

Throughout the show, Matt gasped and clapped at your skills, constantly impressing him with your musical abilities.

Once the show ended, you approached the mic and thanked the audience for coming, and laughed. It felt like golden sunlight to Matt, his smile glossy and bright as you spoke.

When the curtain fell, Matt stood, walkign out into the lobby and waited to hear your voice.

"Mom! Thank you for coming. I'm so glad you could make it." You shouted.

Matt wasn't trying to eavesdrop on your conversation, but he did want to congradulate you on a great show, so he began to walk over to you.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say that you chose a lovely program. I am constantly amazed by your talents." Matt spoke, blushed and starstruck.

"Mr. Murdock, what an honor to hear a compliment like that from you, one of the best lawyers in New York. I'm really glad you liked the show." You smiled.

"That's far too kind, but thank you." Matt said.

Your family and friends walked away for a second, giving you some time to speak to Matt.

"I'm grateful you came to talk to me this evening. You always seem to dart out so fast, never get a chance to thank you for supporting the arts." You said.

"The symphony gives me some time to myself to enjoy the wonders of the world. I'm glad I got to speak to you this evening as well. I feel very lucky to be in the prescense of such greatness."

"I could say the same. I have to mingle about the room, but could I get your number?" You said, perhaps a bit too forward, but willing to embarass yourself nonetheless.

"Absolutely. Here why don't you put yours in my phone, and I'll call you." Matt smiled.

"I'd like that."

You grabbed Matt's phone that he passed to you and typed in your name and phone number before handing it back to him.

"Hope to see you soon, Mr. Murdock." You smirked.

"Same to you."

Matt messaged you that same night, sending you a beautifully crafted congradulations message about the performance. Then, within the minute, asked when you were free.

You both set up a date for the next week, choosing to go to a new restaurant you both had never been to before.

---

The night of the date, you got ready, and started to head for the restaurant, seeing Matt on the opposite street corner, crossing to meet him.

"Matt. Hi." You said, trying not to startle him.

"Hi. It's good to see you. We're close to the restaurant, right? Sometimes I miss count my blocks." He joked.

"Allow me to escort you." You touched his arm, allowing him to use you as a lead.

When you got to the door, he opened it for you, allowing you to walk inside. At the host stand, Matt spoke.

"Two for 8. Under Murdock." He shuffled, folding his cane away.

"Yes, of course. Follow me." The host said.

Matt reached for your arm again, and you walked to the table.

Once the host brought waters, Matt took a sip and then sat back into his seat.

"Your show really was great. I really appreciated your choice of Haydn's Cello Concerto No. 1. A classic, but not played much anymore." Matt started.

"Well thank you. It was once of the first cello features I got to play in high school. Fell in love with it immediately and wanted to honor that memory here." You smiled.

You bantered the whole night, starting the discussion with mentions of the show and classical music as a whole, but eventually making your way to childhood.

"DId you play any instruments as a kid, Matt?" You asked.

"Didn't have the chance to. Came from an athletic family, and then the church didn't have anything but the organ. I've played a bit of guitar, but just the basics. Foggy taught me during law school." He laughed.

"Maybe you should show me some of your skills. That is if you still have that guitar."

"I think if I touched a guitar now I'd start on fire. I prefer to admire the music, not create it myself."

"I think that's fair. I mean, without music appreciators like you, I wouldn't have an audience." You said.

Once you both had finished your meal, you helped escort Matt through the maze of tables and out onto the New York street.

"I've had a really great time tonight." You said.

"I did, too. There's a jazz trio show around here next week. Would you like to join me?" Matt asked.

"I would. I don't get to hear much jazz, so I think that's a great idea. I'll see you then, Matt."

"Let me know when you get home safe." Matt said, unfolding his cane.

"I will. See you soon."

---

That next week you met Matt at the cocktail bar for the jazz trio. He was already sat at a table when you got there, nursing a bourbon.

"Hi! Hope I'm not late." You said, sitting down.

"Just in time. They go on in a few minutes. What would you like to drink? I can order for you at the bar." Matt asked.

"A vodka martini please."

"You got it."

He stood and ordered at the bar, bringing back your drink.

"Do you come here often? It's really nice in here." You looked around.

"I do. One of my favorite nicer places. Got an espresso martini here once and kept coming back. Not every cocktail bar can pour an espresso shot as good as here." He chuckled.

The band entered the stage, adjusting the seats and mics before introducing themselves and starting the set.

Between song, Matt would talk to you about the music, telling you about his favorite jazz musicians and other lore that he found important to the show.

"I've heard these guys play before, and let me tell you their bass player, off the charts. Can't top him. Can't listen to the original version of that last song since him."

After the set, Matt took both of your glasses to the bar, and walked outside with you.

"Thank you for inviting me. I had a really nice time. I love hearing your insights into music. It's like you're breathing fresh air into everything." You blushed.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed the show and the bar. Do you need to get back, or would you like to walk for a bit?"

"I'd love to walk."

"Or we could go get late night ice cream." Matt suggested.

"I think you're a genious."

Matt grabbed your arm again, but this time he led, taking you to his favorite late night ice cream spot.

You looked at the menu and decided, allowing Matt to order first.

"I'll take two scoops of pistachio in a cup." He smiled, allowing you to get closer to the counter to speak.

"I'll have two scoops as well. One white chocolate and one cotton candy." You said.

When they finished scooping your orders, you grabbed both bowls and joined Matt at the picnic table outside.

"A pistachio guy, hmmm. I'm learning a lot." You teased.

"White chocolate and cotton candy. Says a lot about you, too."

"Oh and what does that say?" You joked.

"That you're fun loving and adventurous. You've never been here before and you got two non-typical flavors. You're not scared of change." He attemped to appear serious in his attempt at reading you but continued to smile and giggle as he spoke. "What does pistachio say about me?"

"That you're a weirdo that likes pistachio ice cream." You laughed.

"You got me there."

You both fell into a pit of giggles, trying to catch your breath before laughing again.

"My cheeks hurt. Stop it." You continued laughing.

Once you were both done, you tossed both bowls and spoons, Matt standing beside you.

"Can I walk you home?"

"I'd like that."

"Lead the way captain." Matt ironically saluted.

He took your arm again and you started wlaking the few blocks back. Since the date had started, you don't think there had been a moment of silence besides during the jazz set. It was magical just how well you both got along.

Once you got to the stoop of your apartment you unlached Matt's arm.

"Thank you again for tonight. I had a really good time." You said.

"I really like going out with you." Matt agreed.

There was a minute of silence: you looking at Matt, and Matt fidgetting with his cane.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

"Please."

He leaned in, placing his hand on your cheek, and kissed you.

It only lasted a few seconds, but you were seeing stars. When he pulled away, he kept his hand on your cheek, smiling at you.

"Wow." He spoke.

"Wow." You repeated.

"You should get inside, it's getting cold." He said, blushed again.

You leaned in to kiss him once more and put your hand on his cheek this time.

You walked up a few steps of the stoop before turning back.

"Let me know when you get home safe."

"Will go." He smirked.

[hecates-corner]

Why did I cry to The Thunder Saga?

Well, there are about a million intricate reasons. Let’s graze the hardest hitters by walking through the saga.

Suffering

Penelope is well-played by the sirens. I knew they were the sirens, I think we all did, but we have the advantage of dramatic irony.

Also, as someone who was told that the sirens weren’t going to be in the saga (but… aren’t they literally perfect? Why wouldn’t they be in it?), I was gaping at my screen in unadulterated excitement and glee.

We as listeners don’t yet know that Odysseus isn’t afraid of the water. It’s never mentioned. So, at the time, my heart ached, if you know about Get In The Water, upcoming. Without spoilers… I think you know why I gasped, though it was futile.

Different Beast

It is, entirely, a reflection of the previous song. Also, it shows how ruthless Odysseus is becoming.

Not just with the slicing and dicing of the sirens’ tails. But the fact that he begins the song by shooting his dear wife, when at first he couldn’t even kill a stranger’s baby, knowing the risks both times.

Also, might I add that the vocals of the sirens are perfect? Aquatic, musical, and monstrous. Very, very inhuman.

Scylla

This is the one that hurts quiiiiite a lot. Besides all of the beautiful cacophonies of the first deaths of our beloved comrades.

I was led to think that, in the beginning and throughout the song, Scylla was singing to Eurylochus just out of sight. She was.

And yet, she wasn’t. At all.

She is deep down. Eurylochus has a secret deep down. And Odysseus knows that deep down, he is doing a bad thing. A bad thing.

But hey, at least Eurylochus feels remorse for his selfish action, right?

Mutiny

This entire song is a callback. This saga was all a callback, and it hurts a ton.

Going from the genuine pain and mortification in Eurylochus’s voice, to Odysseus’s silence, to the usurping and loss of trust, to the large switch in the music after Odysseus is temporarily debilitated, and then the sad, whiny, “Please don’t tell me you’re about to do what I think you’ll do…”

Also, loved Eurylochus calling Odysseus “Ody”, because that shows the depth of their closeness.

Thunder Bringer

And here.

Here is the song that made me cry.

The beginning of the song throws in the crude characterization of Zeus, the lustiness. I love that addition, that largely focused detail.

I froze mid-pace when Zeus told Odysseus to make a choice.

What hurt was the silence. We all knew what was coming.

The slightly distorted, almost underwater or ghastly vocals from Eurylochus struck a nerve, and then reminded me of a child. As if his life were finished, and they all knew it. Odysseus saw a boy, not a man, and knew how this story would finish. Because heroes never get happy endings.

And, to boot, the animation was their final attempt to grab him, to kill him, in desperation. And then—

What hurts the most is that they saw him make the choice. They knew what would happen. But they didn’t want to believe it.

They were never going to make it home.

[81folklore]

older - LECLERC

pairings: charles leclerc x male!singer!reader (fc: luke hemmings)

summary: singer yn ln releases a love song with his boyfriend, and the public are not prepared for who it is about

authors note: this has been on my mind for SO LONG. i honestly dont like how many fics ive been doing on the same people (charles, lando etc) but whenever i go to start a new one on my list for someone else i think of something that i have to do😭 also in this reader is not a part of 5sos but close friends with the 3, wfttwtaf is readers album and older is exclusivly the readers song

authors note 2: i wanted to quickly clarify i am NOT speculating that charles or luke are gay/queer and this is not my intentions. luke obviously sings older and i find it easier to visualise it this way, while the reader in this is male, this could also be read as gn!reader. this is FICTION please do not tkae this as me speculating anything

authors note 3: i didnt really know what i was doing with this so its kind of all over the place and very rushed :/ but then again when arent my smau all over the place?? also can you tell i hate writing comments by the way i just dont😭

masterlist

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, ashtonirwin and 818,937 others

we started this song together back in 2020 and picked it back up at the end of 2022

'Older' was originally a voice memo of a 50’s-style love song that we wrote together, then forgot about. when thinking of concepts for my debut album i stumbled across the memo and fell in love with it all over again, but i put it aside yet again as to me, it deserved more than the album

the song has changed a lot from the original voice memo, but the meaning has stayed the same throughout. despite all the beauty, the ups and downs of a long-term relationship over many years, there’s inevitably going to be the worst moment of your love because one of you is going to lose each other

capturing those feelings in a song was tricky but ultimately we wrote from the heart and i think it shows in the song itself

this has always been a song between us, so having him play on this song was very importnt to me and im glad he said yes

older is now yours

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername

liked by landonorris, calumhood and 1,727,338 others

im very pleased to announce a very special one off show at the Royal Albert Hall in London this November 18th. I will be playing a bunch of tracks from my debut album and may be joined to play some others aswell! Tickets on sale this monday at 10 am BST. Lots of love always, yn x

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername

liked by 5sos, charles_leclerc and 2,719,936 others

thank you for an incredible night at the royal albert hall

looking back at the best night of my life, i need to thank each and every one of you who allowed this dream to come true, i will never be able to thank you guys enough

performing in my dream venue, with my favorite people in the world was something i never thought was possible and yet here i am, writing this still on my high from last night

thank you to my friends; michael, ashton and calum who took the time to come to london and perform their songs with me, thank you for always loving me and agreeing to my crazy ideas

to my team and everyone who worked to make this night as special as it could be, thank you. thank you for making my htoughts a reality and making this night as wonderful as possible

thank you to the staff who worked throughout the show to make sure everyone was safe, well and looked after. you truly do not get as much credit as you deserve and i apreciate the hard work you put in to keep everyone happy

thank you to those who joined me, i wish each and every one of you who wanted to could have been there. thank you for singing along and listening to me pour my heart and soul into my music

thank you for letting me do this x

view comments

user55: not the pcd hitting already☹️

user1: and im supposed to pretend i didnt see yn and 5sos perform os/co??

user89: CHARLES?? YN IS DATING CHARLES??

user91: AND HE CAME ON STAGE?? AND THEY PERFORMED OLDER??

user50: i cant believe i saw this all happen live

user47: THANK YOU TO WHOEVER WAS RUNING THE GRAINY LIVESTREAM I OWE YOU MY LIFE🧎🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

ashtonirwin: thank you for everything yn. youre a real life angel

user16: NO CHARLES MENTION??

user9: BESTIE HE HAS A WHOLE POST

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, michaelclifford and 3,619,273 others

after having time to process this show, I feel so overcome with gratefulness. my music means so much to me and seeing so many people resonate with it in a live space was so special for me.

charlie, my life would literally fall apart without you and this would have never happened without you giving me the confidence to do so, i hold so much love and admiration for you

thank you for joining me on such a special night and performing our song with me, thank you for sticking with me through it all and thank you for allowing me to share this part of my life with you

i sometimes wonder where i would be if i didnt find you, if i wasnt blessed with your love. i try to think about the times before you, before us, but both feel impossible to do after feeling your love

life with you is so special and i promise to always cherish and love you

merci de m'avoir laissé vieillir avec toi, merci de m'avoir laissé t'adorer, merci de m'avoir choisi (thank you for letting me get old with you, thank you for letting me adore you, thank you for choosing me)

yn x

tagged: charles_leclerc

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc: mon ange, je t'aimerai toujours (my angel, I will always love you)

charles_leclerc: je suis tellement privilégiée d'être celle que tu aimes🤍🤍 (I'm so privileged to be the one you love)

yourusername: vieillir avec toi ne semble pas si effrayant🖤🖤 (growing old with you doesn't seem so scary)

[keerysfreckles]

ok, so I saw your Newsies smau and I was thinking...

Reader plays Eurydice on Hadestown and a while back she broke up with her toxic ex. But then she meets one of the drivers (u can choose which one) at a show one day and yk they fall in love. Inspired by the song All I've Ever Known from Hadestown.

This is hyper specific and u can ignore this, I'm just rambling here

all i've ever known — LN4

pairing: lando norris x bway!reader

warnings: slight smut, allusions to smut, not proofread

a/n: sorry not sorry but ive never listened to the hadestown soundtrack SO going off the vibes of the show and what i know of it from tiktok 🤞🤞

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

for the past three months oscar has been begging lando to go to a broadway show with him. every time the brit is asked, he argues that lily should go with oscar. which he denies, explaining lily's hate towards musicals.

yes, maybe oscar was trying to set up one of his closest friends with his teammate. what could be so bad about him trying to be a good wing man?

after asking non stop during the weekend, lando finally agreed to fly to new york with oscar.

on the plane, oscar tried his best to explain the musical to lando. lando however only got more confused as oscar kept talking, so he opted to look it up on google instead.

"why are you so insistent with me going with you anyway? there's 18 other drivers to pick from," lando asks as he and oscar walk through the streets of new york, on their way to the theater. oscar kept looking down at his phone at google maps, displaying the directions to the address.

"first off, you're the closest friend i have on the grid. and second, there's someone i want you to meet."

lando chuckles, "so this was just to set me up?" oscar simply nods. "does my love life seem that depressing to you?"

oscar doesn't answer as they arrive at the theater, already having a large line queued. the mclaren drivers wait in line, signing things and taking pictures here and there as the line continues moving.

both men are handed a playbill at the entrance, to which lando immediately flips through as oscar leads them to their seats.

oscar points out to lando his friend, y/n, in the small booklet. her black and white picture is at the top of the second page, along with a male, who lando could only guess was the other lead in the show.

"your friend is the lead?" lando asks in shock.

oscar laughs, "yeah, she's actually going to school for musical theater at nyu."

lando whistles and looks through the cast again, now noticing a certain celebrity who's playing the male lead.

"jordan fisher?"

oscar only laughs again at his over enthusiastic friend. "you know, for someone who kept saying no, you seem pretty excited to be here."

before lando could come up with a proper comeback, the lights started dimming in the theater, hushing the crowd.

oscar kept stealing glances towards lando throughout the whole show. he couldn't help but smile as his face lit up as y/n first stepped out on stage.

lando looked like a kid in a candy store. his cheeks flushed and eyes wide, with a smile adorning his features.

at intermission lando immediately started praising y/n towards oscar, telling him how she was made for the stage.

"why don't you tell her that?"

lando only furrowed his eyebrows in response.

"at the end of the show people wait by the stage door to hopefully meet the cast. y/n promised she'd meet us out there."

the two continued talking. oscar answering any questions lando had about the show so far.

the second act of the show went the same as the first, lando being in awe of y/n and oscar smiling at his friend because of his actions.

intentional or not, oscar could tell lando already thought highly of y/n. now the australian could only hope they'd get along once they met.

as soon as the lights dimmed on stage, the audience roared in applause and cheers.

oscar and lando cheered louder when y/n stepped forward, there was no surprise there.

now the duo was waiting outside the theater, their arms wrapped around themselves to try and keep them warm in the chilly new york wind.

"you alright? you seem kind of nervous," oscar states, noticing lando swaying more then usual. a nervous habit he's picked up on over the past year or so.

lando simply shrugs. he was not about to share with oscar how he might've just fallen in love with girl on stage. he never believed in love at first sight before, but now his mind has been changed.

the stage doors opened, revealing y/n and her costar jordan fisher. both were eager to meet the fans who waited, and signed pictures and other items, as well as take pictures with the fans and answer any questions they had.

as y/n was finishing signing a picture for a fan, oscar called her over.

"oscar!" y/n giggled as she jogged towards him and lando.

oscar hugged and congratulated her, lando doing the same.

"so you're the famous lando he keeps talking about," y/n smiles up at him, taking in his features for the first time.

lando laughed before looking at oscar, "what on earth have you told her about me?"

"nothing bad don't worry," oscar pats his shoulder, as y/n simply chuckles.

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

three weeks have passed since y/n and lando met. they were lucky enough to get each other's phone numbers before departing on the night they met. the two haven't stopped talking since.

lando told y/n he'd be back in new york with his close friend max.

y/n couldn't help but grow excited at the news, counting down the few days until lando would be back in the states.

to add to the surprise of lando showing up, he was currently waiting outside the stage door, just like last time when he was here.

he made sure to keep the secret of being in the audience tonight, knowing how happy it would make y/n once she saw him there.

just like every other night, y/n was talking with the fans, simply going down the line taking pictures and signing items.

it was when she turned, "lando!" she laughed, finally noticing the brit standing off to the side.

she ran towards him, jumping against him to tackle him in a hug. he held his arms out, prepared for impact as he spun her around once.

"i thought you were getting here tomorrow," y/n holds onto his biceps as he sets her down, his hands never leaving her waist.

"i convinced my friend to leave a day early. mainly 'cause you had a show tonight."

"lan, that is so sweet," the nickname fell right off her tongue. lando couldn't help but feel his cheeks warm as she said it.

"only issue is he's still getting here tomorrow," lando frowns slightly, "he was busy filming a video for quadrant."

y/n nods in understanding, then an idea hits her. "well if you don't have a hotel already, you could stay at my apartment?"

lando chooses to ignore the feeling in his chest as she asked, simply nodding.

"great! my cars just parked in the garage behind the theater," y/n boldly grabs a hold of his hand, not that he'd complain for one second about it.

"sorry it's not as fancy as your many mclarens," y/n laughs as the two get in the small car.

"it suits you," lando smiles, sending a shiver down y/n's spine.

the continue continue talking on the way to y/n's apartment. the conversation flowing from lando's hobbies, to y/n's least favorite food, and to what they like to do on their free time.

"it might be a bit messy," y/n states as she unlocks the door.

lando looks around after stepping inside. the walls of the living room are decorated just as he imagined, colorful yet collected. everything went together.

"are you hungry? or just tired?" y/n asks.

"i'm insanely jet lagged, but was worth it staying up to see you perform again," he smiled, watching as a blush made it ways to y/n's cheeks.

"are you okay with the couch?"

lando nods, watching the girl get two blankets and a pillow from somewhere in a room down the hallway. lando guessed it was from her own room.

y/n now noticed lando was still wearing jeans, knowing their not the most comfortable item to sleep in.

after finding a pair of extra large sweatpants and a larger shirt for lando, the two exchanged goodnight. y/n closed her door as she heard the netflix app loading on her living room tv.

what both y/n and lando weren't aware of, is how they couldn't get the other out of their heads.

lando thought about how close he and y/n have gotten in the past month. he only wanted to know more about her.

y/n was in the same boat in her room, as she kept tossing and turning, messing up her sheets more and more. of course she would admit she likes lando, just never to his face.

she loved when he was around, and only wished he was around whenever the two were apart.

five minutes pass as y/n's done contemplating about the ordeal. 'now or never' she tells herself while getting out of her bed. she takes a deep breath before opening her bedroom door.

"lan?"

lando was stood in front of her, equally as startled. she notices his hand raised slightly, she could only guess he was going to knock on her door.

lando's gaze flickers between y/n's eyes, before silently pulling her face towards his. her hands immediately fall to his waist while their lips collide.

he simply pushes forward, guiding them into her room as the kiss only grows more heated.

y/n moans into lando's mouth as his teeth graze her bottom lip. the two's lips stay connected as y/n's legs hit her bed.

their heavy panted breaths mix as y/n brings lando's shirt over his head. she can't help but stare at his toned body, blushing as he catches her in the act.

lando helps her lean back onto her bed, kissing down her exposed neck, his pants growing tighter at the feeling of her fingers gripping onto his curls.

"lan," y/n mumbles, "lando," she calls again.

he looks down at her, his pupils wide and breathing jagged. "yeah?"

"do you want this? like really want this?" y/n asks, not wanting to force anything on him.

lando quickly nods, "y/n i've never been more sure of anything."

he leans down to kiss her, this one being slower than before. a silent agreement between the two, both knowing how they needed this.

[junnieverse]

IT GIRL L♡VER ➳ ENHYPEN

➙ what it's like for enhypen to be dating their s/o who is also an idol

pairing: enhypen x afab!reader

genre: fluff, a tiny bit suggestive under heeseung's

request: " Cutie patotiiiiii. What do we think about enhypen dating an idol s/o? Maybe even the it girl of the generation? Sending you lots of love <3 ~ sunshine ☀️"

a/n: here it is anon, thank you for the request sweetie and sending you even more love right back, hope you like it!

a/n (2): it has also been brought to my attention that @/rlcswo on tiktok has stolen this word for word so please do go and report this user everyone

a/n (3): shameless self promo, I have a new enha series so please do check it out, thank you <3

🖇️ — 양정원 ; JUNGWON !

he is constantly doing covers of your group's dances

he is a bit more lowkey and 'professional' about your relationship

more 'private but not secret' because he knows how you both need to keep your work separated to your private life

but he will be posting his selcas with you to show fans how smitten he is

jungwon is already incredibly active on weverse always replying to fans but now talking about you is all he ever does

'Jungwon how was your day?' a fan would ask

'Just had lunch with my sweet (y/n) and now I'm going to practice!'

biggest simp ever actually

sees you on the big screen during an award show and he's all smiles now, it's adorable :(

but ofcourse you would be displaying the biggest grin ever seeing jungwon shining on stage too

🖇️ — 이희승 ; HEESEUNG !

this man would risk it all for your relationship

whenever you were both together in public he would always be overly affectionate (giving dispatch a field day with the amount of content)

he knows you want to keep things a bit more private despite being in a confirmed public relationship because engene are a little... yeah

but ofcourse majority of them were very supportive and found you and hee to be such a cute couple

the amount of edits of him giving you 'the look' and fans constantly commenting how they wished they were you even for just a second

you'd usually try to stay composed around heeseung but your boyfriend was a tease and he wanted to see you become a flustered mess even on camera

k-netz knew this too because during an enhypen performance, when heeseung's part would come up the camera workers would always try to get the camera on you to get your reaction

let's just say there are many YouTube compilation videos of you simping for your boyfriend

'(Y/n) folding for Heeseung for 8 minutes straight'

🖇️ — 박종성 ; JAY !

jay usually keeps your relationship with him private unless it is brought up or he has something to say about you relating to something he was talking about

"Speaking of actually, (Y/n) showed me how to play this new song on my guitar." jay says during the live as he played a few chords

and during the en o clock episode where he was making muscles for the boys, he wasn’t sure on how to make them and so he called you to help him

fans found it endearing how he causally stayed on the call with you throughout him cooking and his phone would pass around the boys whilst they all said hi and made small talk with you

it soon became a normal thing where during lives if you were to call you would say hi to engene and during your lives he would say hi to your fans

he's always buying you gifts

during your lives there is atleast one item you have on that you'll mention saying you got it as a gift from jay

jay is very much into his rock music and that's pretty much 95% of his Spotify and then the other 5% is your group's songs

🖇️ — 심재윤 ; JAKE !

the most supportive boyfriend ever

best believe he is cheering the loudest during your performances and when your group wins an award

if it's one thing jake was gonna do, it was shamelessly promote you and your group's music

he plays atleast one song from your group during his solo lives and he talks about which songs he likes more and how hard you worked on it

during interviews, just from hearing your name he becomes like a happy pup wagging it's tail like it's time for his walk

the members always tease him for how much of a simp he is but fans find it so cute and wish for a jake of their own

'10 minutes of Jake being (Y/n)'s biggest fan'

you both have matching couple rings that you never take off even during performances

overall just super proud to call himself your boyfriend :(

🖇️ — 박성훈 ; SUNGHOON !

when ni-ki mentioned how sunghoon has high standards he wasnt lying, but then again you are the standard :p

a complete show off unlike jungwon

"Oh you know (y/n)? Yeah they're my girlfriend, isn't she pretty." he would say during a live

despite your protests telling him to stop he just wants everyone to know that your his

now he's all boastful when you aren't there but the minute you're both in one room, it's like he doesn't know how to act

hoon becomes almost robotic and can't even maintain eye contact with you

gets all shy in front of everyone and can't show you any pda

you both had to mc together once and hoon kept stumbling over his words and would blush everytime you looked over to him and smiled

the 4th gen it couple everyone loves and wants to be or be like

🖇️ — 김선우 ; SUNOO !

being called the 'sunshinez' as your couple nickname

loves spending time with you

he passed the friend check too and your members absolutely adore him (just as much as the enha members adore you)

you didn't know this until he mentioned it on a live but he collects your pcs

your no. 1 fanboy that's for sure

fans even noticed how you'd both started picking up small habits from each other

the couple that has all the juiciest tea on people in the industry

fans soon found out you'd actually been supporting him since his i-land days and found it so special

he posts atleast one photo he has with you atleast once a week and it's always the cutest thing

🖇️ — 西村 力 ; NI-KI !

he loves seeing you wearing his clothes during lives or part of your airport fashion

similarly to jake, you and riki have matching couple necklaces that you always have on

now riki usually keeps to himself but when it comes to you he suddenly comes out from his cave

he could disappear without posting for weeks to a month but when your group has a comeback he is the first to post it on his weverse to promote it and fans will tease him about it

'Ni-ki coming out of the trenches to hype up his girl' fans would say

'You'll know Riki's alive when he makes a post about or with (y/n)'

ofcourse netizens are quick to notice that too calling it couple goals

if he's not out with jake then he's either at home or with you, no in between

he's always sharing inside jokes he has with you to fans and they love how happy you make him

if ni-ki isn't updating fans, they come to you begging you to tell your boyfriend and miraculously he updates on social media

[garycxjk]

Why most people don't get Europapa

So, Joost Klein's Europapa apparently is taking the world by storm. With its happy hardcore or gabber house tunes and beats and the silly music video, there's no denying that this song has a certain charm, though it also has its detractors.

The thing is, though, most people on both sides don't fully get the song.

To summarize the song, it's essentially about an orphan who travels around Europe to find himself. Those were in Joost's own words.

Europapa is about an orphan who travels throughout Europe (and beyond) to find himself and tell his story. At first, people don’t recognise him, but he goes on seizing any opportunity he gets to let himself be seen. Europapa is a tribute to my father. When bringing me up, he passed on to me an expansive view of the world.

Okay, but why does the song sound so silly? Well, that's something deliberate. I don't really know much about Joost Klein's music, but what I do know is that this is basically what most of his songs are. Silly, yet deep.

Okay, brief detour to give context to the rest of what I'm writing, but it's important to remember that Joost Klein basically became an orphan at a young age. He lost his father to cancer when he was 12, and a year later, his mother died as well. This essentially shaped his music. From what I can gather from the many YouTube comments, he always watched Eurovision with his parents, and told them that one day he'd be there on stage.

So, let's just talk about the elephant in the room. Some people call this European propaganda. However, just the first few lines clue you in that it isn't just some pro-EU propaganda.

Welcome to Europe Stay here until I die

In fact, there are several lines used that wouldn't sit right if it were pro-EU propaganda. Let's look at the second verse.

Ich bin in Deutschland Aber ich bin so allein

Which roughly translates to

I'm in Germany But I'm so lonely

The next lines, "Io sono in Italia / Maar toch doet het pijn" (first line Italian, second line Dutch), which translates to "I'm in Italy / But I still feel pain".

Essentially, the entire song is him trying to let go of his past, to let go of his grief. That's essentially what the burning house and the windmill represent at the end, finally moving on from the past.

And that's essentially what the entire song is about. The entire song sounds like it's stuck in the '90s and early noughties. Naturally the most glaring part is the music style. Back in the '90s, happy hardcore and gabber house was really big, especially in the Netherlands. The way people dance back then and dressed when they did can be seen in the scene with Paul Elstak. Then there's the Gameboy Advance, which came out in the early 2000s.

Another cool thing is a reference to New Kids, a Dutch comedy show from 2007, when someone says "Welkom in Europa jongen!" ("Welcome in Europe boy!"). On the television screen, you can see Gerrie van Boven, played by Tim Haars, a character from New Kids.

But it isn't just a throwback. It's all being done deliberate. Something that gets lost in translation is the text. The rhymes work, however, to a Dutch person, it sounds a bit... childish. Very simple, at the very least. But I think that even that is done deliberately. It sounds like a child has been writing these lines, but I think that's the point of the song. It's supposed to sound like a child has been writing these lines.

The entire song is about the protagonist being stuck in the past, being stuck in his grief. It's why there's a disconnect between the text and the melody. Sure, it's a celebration of Europe, of Eurovision. Joost Klein genuinely loves Eurovision. However, it's also essentially him saying, this is me closing another chapter in my life.

Let's take a look at the outro of the song.

Op kruistocht in m'n spijkerbroek, lopend door de velden M'n papa en m'n mama zijn voor altijd mijn helden Aan het einde van de dag zijn we allemaal mensen M'n vader zei me ooit: "Het is een wereld zonder grenzen" Regen op het raam en ik stond huilend bij het venster Veel te vroeg duister, het is winter in de lente "Ik mis je elke dag", is wat ik stiekempjes fluister Zie je nou wel, pa? Ik heb naar je geluisterd

This... seems quite long, doesn't it? Well, that's because that's the full outro. What most hear during the video clip is this:

Aan het einde van de dag zijn we allemaal mensen M'n vader zei me ooit: "Het is een wereld zonder grenzen" "Ik mis je elke dag", is wat ik stiekempjes fluister Zie je nou wel, pa? Ik heb naar je geluisterd

Let's translate the full lyrics. I'll put the translations of the lyrics in the music video in bold and italic.

On my crusade in jeans, walking through the fields My dad and mom are forever my heroes At the end of the day we are all human beings My father once told me: "It's a world without borders" Rain on the window and I stood at the window crying Darkness far too soon, it's Winter in Spring "I miss you every day", is what I secretly whisper You see dad, I listened to you

So, basically, the gist is, this song has many layers. It's a heartfelt tribute to Eurovision, while also telling a personal story about grief and letting go of said grief.

Though I think this interview with Joost Klein on De Avondshow met Arjen Lubach may say more than I could.

Well, sometimes you must say goodbye to whatever is most dear to you. And when one door closes thousands of others open, apparently. But what I've learned is that you tend to hold on to your own pain sometimes. So this letter provides some sort of closure, dare I say. Saying: "Hey, Mum and Dad... You will always be there for me, but I can't carry this pain forever."

[imaprettygirl]

An act of submission

(Emperor Zhongli x gn reader)

"They say that a good servant reflects the personality of its master…" Zhongli chuckled as he traced the brim of his cup with his finger. Despite maintaining a calm facade, the corners of his lips occasionally twitched upwards into a smirk, yet he was trying so hard to hide it—a futile exercise in suppression.

"Erm… excuse me, what?" You replied. Was he complimenting your guzheng or was he throwing shade at you for imitating him? It wasn't your fault, but you couldn't help but think that it was the result of being by his side for a long time. Putting on a private solo concert for the Emperor was nerve-wracking: one wrong mistake and there goes your wrist. One thing you didn't know was that you had managed to plant the first seeds of obsession in his heart which resulted in keeping you by his side and dragging you along everywhere he went. Too bad the amount of love he shows you is just the surface of it. You never know how deep the ocean is, hm? During the time spent with him, your brain had subconsciously picked up his habits, resulting in you emulating him sometimes. How very bold of you to assume that he hadn't noticed it.

"Erm…" A small, soft sound slipped out of your mouth. It was really obvious that you were trying to ease the awkward tension between you two.

Upon hearing the soft sound of your voice, Zhongli paused and gently lifted his gaze from his cup. His eyes full of adoration and love wandered across your features. Such beautiful features which he wished to preserve forever. If his mind were a room, you would undoubtedly be the wallpaper, your presence permeating every space, reflecting the depths of his fascination for you.

There it was, the reaction he was hoping for. That expression which was akin to a baby deer in the headlights. Your eyes were wide in confusion and your lips were slightly parted but wide enough to let out an ‘eh?’ sound. Zhongli chuckled, amused by how your face had gone red. Possibly because of the steam from the tea or him making advances on you- oh, how he wished that he was the reason of you being so shy and flustered. The soft glow of the red lanterns cast a warm light on your face highlighting the contours of your profile, giving him the opportunity to observe your facial expressions in detail. To be frank, he was proud of himself for bringing a reaction out of you. He may have experienced joy and pleasure throughout his life but they all were nothing compared to the happiness he gets from your smile. He was slowly plunging himself into the spiral of obsession but he didn't know it.

"Ah, nothing. According to what I said earlier, I put the musical instrument in the position of the servant while you are its master. The strings of it bend to the will of your hands to produce such beautiful sounds… Not to mention, the songs produced by it are as gentle and soothing as you. It reflects your personality, don’t you think so?" Zhongli replied in a genuine voice but the predatory glint in his eyes gave it away.

“Thank you…” Your voice trailed off at the end as you were unsure of what to reply

“No need to thank me, I was just stating facts” He brought his cup to his lips as he said so. Zhongli’s gaze fell upon your hand wrapped around your tea cup. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes lingering on your left hand. Even though it seemed like a request, you knew that it was an order. Your hand shot up immediately even though you were praying desperately that he wouldn’t chop it off for accidentally playing the wrong note earlier that day. A soft hum left his lips as he lifted your hand higher to the level of his mouth.

“Do you only plan on plucking the strings of your instrument for the rest of your life?” The emperor caressed the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Erm… maybe. What’s there to pluc-”

“There are many things you can pluck, my dear. For example… my heart. You can pluck it out and I would thank you for it” The way he said it so casually shocked you for a moment. Zhongli eyed the ring on your index finger which you inherited from your mother. Your heart was thumping loudly that his words were drown out. “Y-Your majesty…” Your face was as red as the lanterns hanging above both of you.

His lips hovered above your ring for a while to toy with your conflicting feelings at the moment. After what seemed like an eternity, he brought his mouth down to leave a kiss on it. “A jade wrist loses to a golden cup, so slender, so slender, it’s the passing of youth…”

-Irene Callista

[radioisntdead]

LORD AND SAVIOR!

I pray to thee for Mobster Alastor!! Pretty please! There was an actual Mob in New Orleans during the 1920s! What if Al was a Mob Boss and he meets Reader!!

MOB ALASTOR, MOB ALASTOR, MOB ALASTOR MOB ALASTOR, MOB AL-

Charmed

Mob boss! Alastor x f reader

Warnings: implied death of a man, ALSO WINGEOMAN MIMZY WE LOVE [?] MIMZY IN THIS HOUSE, mild ooc, endings slightly scrambled because I wrote that first then everything else, also don't question the song pacing.

What song the reader is singing

If you go down a couple of nonspecific streets in New Orleans Louisiana and down a shady dark alley way you'd stumble upon a shop that specialized in selling radios of all things, and if you stepped inside and muttered a certain set of words to one of the workers they'd open up the back and let you go down a pair of stairs, leading you to a lively and vibrant speakeasy filled with music, and folks dancing.

Ran by an ambitious woman by the name of Mimzy you were newly hired as one of her performers, clad in a striking red flapper dress with black details covering it, silky black gloves covered your arms, feathered headband placed on your head, and jewelry of your choosing adorned your neck and wrists you danced along to the music that played during down time or when the clock hit a certain time you were brought on stage to sing a jazzy little song.

And one of those certain times was now, you were singing a lovely song as folks drank, it was the slow part in the evening, a nice break from more energetic jazz songs and face paced dances like the Charleston.

"Darlin' I know it's been hard," your dazzling voice rang throughout the speakeasy, charming many patrons including the very man that owned and provided alcohol to the speakeasy.

"life is tough when we're far apart,"

Alastor, radio host that moonlighted as the head of a mob, How peculiar! Of course you wouldn't know that quite yet, only recognizing him as the well-known radio host as opposed to the murderous man he was.

"I miss you so but I know, I know you have to go,"

This wasn't the only speakeasy that Alastor owned and had others operate but this one in particular was ran by his dear friend so he did show quite the bout of favoritism towards it.

"Far away from my arms but you stay in my heart,"

Not to mention he thought that out of the others this one had the best jazz singers, as shown with your charming voice.

"I pray for the day that we'll share the same way"

You could faintly hear your boss, Mimzy greet Alastor and him responding in kind chatting as they made their way to Alastor's regular spot that was reserved for him at all times.

A spot that was somewhat secluded yet gave him a nice view of the stage.

"That we'd never be apart, will it be today?'' you continued singing, not giving a care for whatever your boss and the radio man were doing.

"Baby I'll be lonely without you,"

Alastor sat down as Mimzy gave him some information on someone he was supposed to be meeting for a deal before waltzing off to do whatever it is she did.

"I've been on my own for far too long,"

A bottle of rye and a rather fancy looking cup was placed in front of him by a waitress.

"Come and rescue me, Cause' right by my side is where you belong,"

Alastor checked his watch, the gentleman he was supposed to meet with was running a few minutes late, it was rather annoying especially since he was the one who wanted to meet with him.

Perhaps the man had gotten caught up in some other mobsters mits, perhaps he had decided to play one of Husker's Russian roulettes, or perhaps the coward decided to back out, how unfortunate,

For him anyways, Alastor didn't particularly care what happened to him, he would be annoyed if his time was wasted but at least he got to enjoy a couple glasses of rye and listen to that charming voice of yours.

romantic songs weren't his favorite but he didn't mind this time.

Alastor hadn't intended to become a mob boss but he certainly wasn't complaining especially with all the power that came with it.

He was once a simple radio host that had the simple hobby of murder, but then he had made the mistake of killing a mob member, proceeded to join said mob and ended up climbing the ranks.

Gaining the trust of the foolish former leader, using tactful tricks to tear down other members in order to take their place, replacing them on by one until eventually he did that foolishly vile man in, and took control for himself.

"Darlin' I know it's been hard for you too,"

And now he was more then just a simple radio host, he had control over parts of the new Orleans police department, he had bootleggers, he had people, he had money, enough money to ensure that his dear mother lived comfortably in a nice big house that could rival Jay Gatsby's, with people to take care of her.

"You're trying to make it through but you miss me so,"

May the Lord above have mercy on the souls that made the mistake of trying to harm or neglect her health.

"I know,"

Alastor's eyes rested on you singing, gloved hands gently holding the microphone, eyes half open as your voice enchanted the patrons.

"I know you've have been so long far away from my arms but you stay in my heart,"

Mimzy popped up again, a glass of her preferred alcoholic poison in hand with a raised eyebrow,

"You like our newest performer Al?" She asked leaning against a faux plant.

"Hm? Indeed she has quite the voice!" Alastor took a sip of his rye as Mimzy grinned mischievously, Alastor opened his mouth to say something but was oh so rudely interrupted by The gentleman that wanted to meet with him.

"I pray for the day that we'll share the same way,"

"Ah, you're late." Was all he said to the man as he sat across from him.

"That we never be apart will it be today?"

The late and rather annoying man didn't have the manners to apologize for his lateness, how stupid of him.

"Baby I'll be lonely without you, I've been on my own for far too long,"

while you sang and Alastor debated on killing a man, Mimzy came up with a couple ideas, Alastor seemed like your type and well, she was hopeful that you were Alastor's, because frankly she was concerned that the radio man was going to die alone.

"Come rescue me cause right by my side is where you belong,"

She thought you and Alastor would get along swimmingly! With your willingness to stab a bitch and Alastor's murderous hobbies along with the whole mob thing it was a match made in hell heaven!

And the two of ya' would have her to thank for puttin' the two of you together! Maybe you'd even make her your maid of honor at the wedding!

She'd look great in whatever color you'd choose for a bridesmaid dress, maybe green? Yellows?

How marvelous would that be?

Mimzy moved across the speakeasy to the area where you would go after your little performance to get off the stage and waited for you to finish your song.

You, ever unsuspecting continued singing, wondering what type of alcoholic or maybe even non-alcoholic beverage you would get after your performance, you were lucky that the speakeasy you worked at had several options and you got them either free or at a discount.

You were so preoccupied singing and deciding what type of drink you wanted indulge in to soothe your throat that you didn't notice Alastor snapping his fingers and two people appeared and dragged the man that had met with him away.

It caused a few patrons to leave just in case but it wouldn't damage that nights business.

"Far away from my arms but you stay in my heart,"

Now that his evening was freed up and you were still performing Alastor sipped his drink and watched you, seemingly unaware of what Mimzy had planned.

"I pray for the day that we'll share the same way that we'll never be apart will it be today?"

Mimzy impatiently tapped her foot on the ground as you took a quick breath, preparing to finish up the song.

"Baby I'll be lonely without you, I've been on my own for far too long come rescue me,"

Maybe you'd get a some type of cocktail? Or perhaps you'd settle for a glass of rye? Or maybe plain ol' water?

"cause' right by my side is where you belong,"

Alastor's gaze never left you as he sipped his drink, your voice had him enchanted.

"Baby I'll be lonely without you," you smiled as the time for your little performance to end was approaching, at least until the clock hit another late number.

"I've been on my own for far too long come rescue me,"

Your gloved hand let go of the microphone, bracelets clicking against each other as you moved your hand to your side.

"Cause' right by my side is where you belong."

You sung out the last line and did a small bow before turning around to get off the stage.

You barely made it two steps down the stage before Mimzy grabbed your hand telling you that she had someone she wanted you to meet, and dragged you to where Alastor now stood, intending to leave.

"Alastor! This is my newest performer, [Name], isn't she just the bee's knees?" Mimzy said as she let go of your hand, your eyes met Alastor's as he nodded politely.

"Indeed what a enchanting voice you have! It's a pleasure to meet you my dear, quite a pleasure," Alastor said holding a hand for you to shake, you smiled returning the handshake only for Alastor to bring your hand to his mouth planting a small kiss to it before letting go.

"The pleasures all mine, Alastor was it?" You asked as you pulled your hand back.

"Well look at you two getting along so well!" She said despite the two of you only barely exchanging simple pleasantries, you gave her a pointed look before she looked to the side of the two of you and squinted her eyes before looking back at you and Alastor,

"Oh! woulda' you look at that I gotta stop Donna from singing after this song, we all know she sounds like a dying toad, bless her heart, You two should go dance, get to know each other!" Mimzy said quickly as she suddenly shoved the two of you onto the dance floor.

As another round of jazz music began to play, Alastor took your hand in his and placed an arm on your back, and the two of you danced the night away.

Mimzy was rather proud of herself especially when she noticed Alastor began frequenting her speakeasy more, mainly nights when you performed, she was more then delighted when you waltzed on into the speakeasy early one night before any one had arrived, a couple months after she had sent you and Alastor to dance.

You cradled a bouquet of seven red roses in your arms as you made a beeline to Mimzy, telling her about you and Alastor had began to go out, how he took you on just the most wonderful date before you had came in, and oh how he was so gentlemanly and the date was just amazing!

Of course you did leave out the part of the date where you and Alastor killed a rather brutish guy together but that wasn't too important was it?

Good evening folks! This will be a series of sorts! Because I absolutely ADORE mob boss Alastor, so expect headcanons and other fics that may or may not be in order for this lil' au,

ALSO WINGWOMAN MIMZY Also I'm aware this was posted on Wednesday instead of Tuesday like it was supposed to so this is NOT a Wednesday angst fic, you will be getting Stardew valley flavored Wednesday angst later!

Anywho I hope you enjoyed! As always thank you for tunin' on in, And if you'd like to join in on the mob Alastor chatter you should join our discord!

[totalswag]

could you do headcannons of drew starkey x singer!reader? where his schedule is free for some months so he goes on tour with her, and she has a nessa barrett/young forever vibe. 🩷🩷

support buddy — DREW STARKEY

authors note this was such a great idea because i’m currently in the works of making a singer!reader x drew starkey 🤭. i hope you really like this lovie :) i’ve listen to a few of nessa’s music and i have a couple songs that are some of my favorites of hers!!!

summary drew joining you on tour while he has time off from filming.

taglist! if you would like to be added to my taglist leave a comment or let me know by sending me in my ask.

warnings drew being a supportive boyfriend.

➪ Drew has been filming his new movie in Europe while you are on tour, performing at sold-out shows. You both miss each other a lot.

➪ Drew had informed you that he would be taking a few months break from filming and that he would love to join you on tour during this period. That made you very delighted, and you had originally meant to ask him.

➪ The entire time he's been with you has been memorable. Every second and moment is forever captured. Will never forget this.

➪ "You are gonna do amazing baby, promise," Drew tells you between kisses in the dressing room before you had to walk onto stage.

➪ The sound of screaming fans could be heard from the audience as you walked closer to stage, hand in hand with Drew.

➪ Half an hour into the show, everyone is having an amazing time. You’ve played songs from your newest album that has a different feel and vibe to it compared to your first album.

➪ When you were in the middle of talking to the fans when a large crowd starts screaming on the side where Drew and his cast of Outer Banks stood at the private area on the second floor.

➪ You smiled into the microphone, making fans pay attention at you, "My lovely boyfriend decided to join me on tour for a month while he has time off from filming, and it's been amazing," fans all awed.

➪ Drew waved to the excited fans below him with a kind smile.

➪ The rest of the show consisted of songs from your album as well as older songs that you had previously performed. You often glanced at Drew, blowing him a kiss or simply smiling at his beautiful face.

➪ You played two songs from your album that you wrote about Drew that mean a lot to you. You wrote this when you were going through a tough time in your life and he was the one that was there for you.

➪ Cried throughout various portions of the song, along with fans who had their phones out, capturing the times when you looked up at Drew and never took your focus away from him. The moment was lovely.

➪ After the show, you rushed into Drew's arms. He whispered nice things into your ear just for you to hear. He wanted to take you somewhere special—just the two of you.

➪ "Where are we going?" you innocently inquire. "Somewhere that will keep your mind relaxed and listen to the sounds of water hitting shore," Drew answers between laughter.

➪ The rest of the month with Drew continued to be the best times filled with a lot of emotions and happy moments.

my taglist!

✰ 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.

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @rosezza @solanathascientst

[moony-mari]

1:58 am - lando norris 

Lando norris x fem!reader Summary: 1:58 am the time he walked out of your life or 1:58 am the time he walked back into your life Warnings: hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. max is max fewtrell, italics are flashbacks a/n: put my playlist on shuffle and started writing! Hope you like it send me requests if you want an idea to be written! 

☆☆☆☆

1:58 am the exact time he walked out of your shared apartment leaving you alone, tears cascading down your face as you wondered why he went away. 

Your knees gave out as you sank to the couch, tears blurring your eyes as you opened your phone, your heart clenching as you looked at the photo of lando that lit up the dim room. Immediately you opened your email drafting  a letter of resignation to send to all the quadrant members. 

Placing your phone down, you began to walk around the apartment, memories flooding your mind 

The rain hit the windows harshly causing you and Lando to look at eachother “we're gonna get soaked” he laughed. You'd gone out for dinner and decided it was a good idea to walk to to the restaurant completely forgetting how brutal the UK weather can be 

“I guess we'll have to run home. You wanna race me lan?”

“You don't stand a chance” he smirked at you as he took your hand and led you to the door. 

He was right, you couldn't win,completely drenched hair dripping you finally caught up to him trying to catch your breath ”you could've let me win arsehole” 

“Where's the fun in that baby” he took your hand, and as if on queue music started playing from the car parked on the side “let's dance” 

You're not much for dancing but for him you did. And so you danced in the rain, laughing like a bunch of idiots. Lando pulled you in for a sweet kiss which you gladly reciprocated, until you jumped the honk of a car breaking you apart.

“Do you want to come home or are you just gonna keep standing in the rain all night?” max called 

“Oi you muppet you played the song didn't you? You should’ve shouted us before” 

“Believe it or not i actually like you two together so i gave you a cute moment don't worry i got pictures and videos so i expect a thank you”

“Thank you max” you giggled at his antics and pulled lando to the car 

You placed the frame face down not wanting to remember anymore, the hole in your heart only growing as you continued to roam through the dark halls, leading to your bedroom. Checking your phone one more time pleading for a message a call anything to tell you that he was okay and that he was coming home 

☆☆☆☆

Nov 20th was the date. 2 weeks. 14 days. Complete radio silence. Your resignation had not gone down well. Max showing up to your place pleading with you to come back saying Lando was an idiot for what he did and how you shouldn't throw 3 years of hard work at quadrant because Lando was being a dipshit. Ria and the boys spammed you with messages.you told them you’d finish all the videos scheduled this year but after that you were done. You couldn't work with him anymore. 

How could you go back? 9 years of friendship and a 4 year relationship down the drain like it meant nothing. you’ve been there since the beginning. You held him while he cried and celebrated with him after a good race. But most importantly you loved him. You thought he loved you too. 

Dread consumed you as ria dropped off your abu dhabi paddock passes reminding you that quadrant scheduled a video filming the last race of the year from the mclaren garage. You had no choice but to go. It was work after all. So you packed your bags (full of Lando's hoodies that still smell like him) , got on the plane and checked into your room on wednesday night.Declining offers to go out because you knew he'd be there and you weren't ready to face him yet. 

Saturday rolled around (too quickly) and you were getting ready to go to the paddock to watch quali. The Mclarens had been looking unbelievable this weekend, the progress they've made throughout the year clearly showing with both of the drivers being at the top in both fp1 and fp2. Your mind wandered to the possibility of Lando winning a race. Your heart clenched. A knock on your door brought you back to reality. “Are you almost ready, love quali is starting in 30 minutes? The cars waiting in the lobby ” ria spoke through the door. You grabbed what you needed and headed out. 

As predicted, Oscar finished fp3 in p1 with Lando just behind. Your heart rate was skyrocketing as you walked closer to the McLaren garage.Max knew how hard this was for you so he pulled you aside “i've known you for 9 years. I know when you're not okay. I know this is hard but this is the last time you'll be with us. Forget lando. I mean quadrant. Aarav, steve, ethan ,niran, ria, me the people you've spent the last few years with building this brand so enjoy yourself. I may be Lando's best friend but you know you'll always have me.” 

Tears pooled in your eyes as you hugged him pouring everything into it not being able to answer him verbally. You wiped your tears and continued to walk to the garage with Max next to you. 

Luckily Lando was already in the car when you got there so you settled into the familiar garage missing the feeling of watching live from the garages. Quali  went past in a blur and now all you could focus on was Lando's car going round the track setting purple sectors all around. Screams erupted as he crossed the finish line and secured pole position. Hugging all your friends and fully embracing the moment.

Lando soon made it back into the garage and Max gave you the heads up so you could go back to the hotel. You knew you'd have to face him tomorrow but maybe tomorrow you would be ready. You settled into bed and hoped you would be okay and drifted off to sleep. 

Loud knocking woke you up. Looking around for your phone you checked the time. 1:58 am. Walking up to the door thinking it was just ria you pulled on a hoodie and opened the door.You wrong. Lando stood on the opposite end of the door. Bags under his eyes and his cheeks more hollow than you remembered  he just stood there defeated. Until he finally broke the silence that consumed all the air around you

“Can I come in?” 

[pennyserenade]

the devil hath power

part three: the victor

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader, coriolanus snow x you, coriolanus snow x nameless reader (no use of y/n) rating: e (explicit, 18+) tags/warnings: power imbalance, sex work/prostitution, degradation, smut, explicit sex, a little bit of violence, roughness, blood tw, hate sex, protected sex, handjobs, oral (female receiving), fingering, a general evilness for coriolanus snow is NOT a good guy. i hate to tag this as Dark Coriolanus because i think that's just who he is, but i will do so for the sake of this. word count: 7.9k+ summary: Coriolanus Snow is always the victor in his games. Or is he? a/n: this series was lots of fun to write and i can only hope that you all enjoyed reading this half as much as i enjoyed making it. i'll kiss you on the nose if you decide to leave a nice comment and/or reblog this, but if you only like it that's okay, too; i'll think of you fondly for having followed me on this journey regardless. no beta because life is hard but i did my best here.

part one | part two

The party did not conclude as much as it transferred to another location.

Tigris and her friends had begun to talk of a new nightclub some time after the conversation in the living room, and the idea whisked them away in their states of bubbly inebriation. They had kindly invited her along, with Tigris in particular trying to make a strong case, but she’d declined, citing early morning obligations. On the way out, Tigris had whispered to her that Coriolanus was too important for fun–but asked if she wouldn't try and help him have it anyway, being his old friend? She had promised she would and Tigris had kissed her cheek with warm affection before leaving. Not for the first time that night she could hardly believe that Coriolanus was related to the woman.

It was just as well for Coriolanus that they all left sooner than expected. He held the door open as they scattered out, delivering his charming goodbyes, but after they all had gone his amicable smile faded significantly and his shoulders slumped from the relief. 

“Don’t you like them?” she asked, observing from the corner. 

He wetted his lips, turning his head towards her. “Do you?”

“I’d say so, yes.”

“Of course you do. They’re fools.” 

She wasn’t surprised by his turn of attitude. In fact, she felt more at ease when he was like this: transparently mean. It felt less frightening to know what she was up against. 

“Even Tigris?” she inquired. 

“Of course not Tigris,” he answered irritably. He pushed his frame off the wall and straightened himself out. “She’s just vulnerable to those types of people. It’s not her fault.”

“Those types of people?” As far as she could tell, they’d all been fairly well-rounded individuals. Their only fault had been curiosity, maybe overfamiliarity, but she considered that much better than what he gave off: Pomposity, contempt, a coldness when he did not think to mask it. Coriolanus could be charming–she observed this multiple times throughout the night, as he had conducted side conversations and finished off stories–but he never seemed to strike anyone as sincere. She could sense that, could feel it in the way they talked to him, not like an old friend, but like a teacher. He wasn’t like Tigris. She was lovely. 

Coriolanus did not entertain the conversation any longer, though. He instead took the needle off the record that had been playing softly in the background for some time, stopping the music in the middle of a song. It was then that her thoughts spun back to her music box—how abruptly, almost violently, he had shut it when they were inside her room–and her stomach began to churn. It wasn’t nerves; it was far more complex than that. His eyes seemed to beckon her closer, to draw her in. 

Despite what she had said, she had hoped maybe all Coriolanus had intended to do was flaunt her around the party, to show her the life she could have if she worked hard enough for it. That had been foolish; she was experienced enough to know with men like him it never stopped anywhere innocuous as that. He looked up at her like he expected a performance. 

“Finally down to two,” she said, sitting her near-empty wine glass on one of his ornate bookshelves. “Anything else you’d like to do while I’m still on the clock?” 

He laughed mirthlessly, working the knot in his tie. “Is that all you think about?” 

She watched him as he had her that first night: intent, serious, a spectator to a life she could not quite imagine, nor one she exactly envied. “I don’t know—is there something else I should be thinking about?” 

He eyed her as she moved closer, almost as if he intended for her to pounce. His grin was derisive. “I don’t know–don’t you have your own thoughts?” he answered brusquely. 

“I do, but I don’t think you’d like them very much, Mr. Snow,” she retorted. She could sense that he was not entirely in a good mood now–could see it in the tense way he held his frame, see it in the hardness of his azure eyes–but she wasn’t sure he ever was. At least not in her company.

 “I can leave as soon as you give me my money,” she added. 

“Thought you said you weren’t an escort,” he sneered. She watched as his fingers undid his cufflinks. They fell with a clatter on the table before him, disregarded with an unfettered ease. She knew they probably cost more than most people could ever hope to make in a lifetime in the Districts. If she stole them, would he notice?

“I’m not, but you’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re well above paying for sex.” 

“What? The game get too trying for you?” Coriolanus clicked his tongue. Though his words took on a more playful tone, his voice did not. “You almost had me convinced last week that you were a worthy playmate. So stubborn, so adamant. I thought to myself for a moment that I was lucky you were only a whore and not something as substantial as my classmate.”  

Her eyes grew hard, despite herself. “So why are you trying to make me into something you so wholly believe I’m not?” she asked. “I don’t appreciate being left in the dark, Mr. Snow. In my line of business, it is best when all the cards are left on the table. When they are not I have the habit of leaving.”

He seemed to consider this as he opened the three buttons on his dress shirt. Already he had slung his suit jacket over the chair. “I’m not entirely fond of deception, either,” he said finally.

“I didn’t say anything about deception.”

“But I did. And you—“ he pointed a finger in her direction, “—know what you do is a bunch of thinly-veiled deception. I’ll tell you this: I think you could be an asset to me. You proved it tonight more than ever, with that charming little story about your Peacekeeper husband. You’re as quick on your feet as I’m sure you are on your back.” He quirked a mean grin. “But I’ll also say this: I also don’t like being left in the dark. If we are to work together the way I hope we will, I want to know your every thought as soon as you think it. I don’t care how banal.”

More than Coriolanus Snow liked conducting games, it seemed he liked winning them with an unfair advantage. Her lips twitched, daring to press into a grin. He didn’t find this amusing. 

“You think I’m joking,” he gruffed. 

“Quite the contrary.” She laughed, but it was more exasperated than mocking. “I think you’re serious. It’s just that you’re so goddamn predictable. You try to act above those men who come to me but you want what many of them do: power and control.”

The table that separated them lifted ever so slightly as he leaned his frame nearly all the way across it. “Of course I do,” his voice was rough. He was a frightening man when he wanted to be. She stumbled back. Anyone would’ve. “You do too. Don’t think I don’t notice just as much as you do.”

To make up for her temporary faltering and to show she was not intimated - though in truth she did wonder if maybe she ought to be - she leaned forward too, so close their noses nearly brushed. He smiled a wicked little grin that sent shivers down her spine. “You make me as sick as I make you. How's that for a thought?” she said. 

No venom, no bitterness, just a fact. Her pulse quickened. For a flash, she considered the fact that he could very well kill her. That no one might know it. Was he capable of that?

She felt his breath fan across her cheek, warm, scented like roses. “I like you better like this. None of that doe-eyed, temptress act. Your fluttering eyelashes got you through the door, but only because I wanted to know more about what’s up here.” 

She glowered. “You act high and mighty, Coriolanus, but I saw the tent in your pants last week. I know you liked it.” 

Her mouth ghosted over his own, teasing, but he didn’t move; he smirked, brushing his nose against her cheek, daring her. Challenging her. A far cry from the Coriolanus of weeks past. His past words echoed in her mind, the gravity of them weighing on her for the first time: The game will be different next time.

She could not lose. 

“You’re a petulant child, so afraid of what you don’t understand, contrary to what you say,” she whispered coldly, “And you want to fuck me so badly it terrifies you and you’re ashamed of yourself.” 

He connected their lips; it was chaste, brief before he drew back. It surprised her, and she had to work hard to pretend it hadn’t. “You think that if I do, it’ll ruin me.” Another chaste kiss. “Maybe it might, but what of you? What if you like it? Could you live with yourself?” 

Her eyes pressed close. The smell of roses was pungent but there was a heady scent mixed in with it; the sour-sweet smell of a clean sweat, of worry, of a long, long day. There too was alcohol. She had watched him consume a glass or two. She was sure she could take him on if need be. Certain that she had the willpower, the strength, to outdo him once more. “I’ve done far worse things and lived with it,” she whispered. 

Snow’s fingertips grazed against her jawline. His eyes bore into hers when she opened them for him. “I believe that.” 

Maybe it was meant to come across as condemnatory but it landed in a cushioned awe, wrapped in the quiet reverence belonging to a man who badly wants something he shouldn’t have. And he took it, his long fingers wrapping around the tantalizing column of her neck, pressing gently, an act of possession as his lips enveloped her own. There was no hesitation, no strain; he opened his mouth and she allowed his tongue to separate her lips. He tasted of roses, of wine, earthy and decadent, his lips plush and smooth as they moved hungrily against her own. 

She was the one who pulled back first, searching for air, allowing his nose to bump against the tip of hers as he lurched forward for more. His eyes were closed but he still possessed enough of himself to laugh humorlessly at the impossibility of what was happening. It did feel like victory, albeit a small one. She kissed him again, hoping he felt the drip of regret straight down to the swell of his groin. Hoped he’d feel it for decades, that he’d remember this as vividly as she would: his thighs pressed into the wooden table, his fingers in her hair, on her jaw, on her neck, his want, thick and palpable - embarrassing - as he leaned closer for more, more, more. 

He tugged her closer by the lapels of her jacket. There was no protest, not even the muffled sound of self-satisfaction as she crawled her way to him across the table. He held it down with his weight and watched expectantly as she came to sit before him. It was better this way, she told herself, so close. His pupils were blown wide, his lips red and bruised, whatever lipstick she might’ve still been wearing smudged against his. Even his carefully styled hair had begun to unravel. She could feel the full heat of his desire as her legs bracketed his waist. 

“When I first began asking about you—“ Coriolanus’ fingers fiddled with the buttons on her blazer. She let him, leaning back on her arms, a present to be unwrapped. “—there was this man. Let’s call him Vitus.” The first button popped open, and he moved diligently to the next one. “I go to university with Vitus. He’s a wealthy young man, and arrogant, so it’s no surprise he’s on your list. Vitus spoke highly of you, but not kindly.” The other button broke open, revealing the bit of flesh before her breasts. He could see a peak of black, of sheer lace, and she watched as he reevaluated his expectations. 

“Vitus,” she reminded softly. He shifted his eyes up. They were dark and unreadable. “Vitus—” he echoed, nodding. The third button slipped free. “—said you were a whore who got down on your knees for him. You sucked his cock so well that he shook. Said that was the best head he ever got, that you swallowed it down your pretty throat and left lipstick marks on his cock.” 

Coriolanus’ lips twitched, as though this fact pained him. She furrowed her eyebrows, surprised by the way the words seemed to disturb him—as if he was angry that she had been with other men. He pushed her blazer open and draped it over her shoulders. His head drooped down and he took one of her nipples, which was clothed behind the sheer cup of her bra, and scraped it between his teeth. 

She shuddered, one hand coming to his hair. Before it could, he pressed it back down onto the table forcefully. Her body got progressively more rigid beneath his. 

“Another man said your cunt was tight.” He stared up at her with unfeeling eyes. “Tight. He said that word exactly. He was so vapid. He said you liked him. That you came on his cock not once but twice, and that you rode him until your knees gave out. And do you want to know what I asked them to get those responses?” Coriolanus pressed his lips gently on the place before her bra began. He began kissing downwards, right over the fabric. By her belly-button, he said, “If they knew who you were. Nothing else.”

He pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses at the waist of her pants. She pushed back the fawn of hair that fell over his eyes and he let her. Looking down at him, feeling the ghost of his lips, the presence of his breath against her skin, she realized he intended for her to comment. 

“That doesn’t embarrass me,” she answered mildly. “I can’t stop what people choose to say about me.” 

Coriolanus rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think it would. That wasn’t the point.” He began to undo the button on her pants now, too. “The point is that I wanted you to know—“ The button came loose and he carefully undid her zipper, falling to his knees before her. It was more reverent of a move that she would have figured he’d make. He nudged her exposed skin with the cold tip of his nose, letting his tongue trace lightly at the beginning of her transparent underwear. “—however well you did it for them, I want it twenty times better. This will be your best performance yet.” 

His fingers gripped the underside of her thighs and he tugged her forward so abruptly, it caught her off guard. Her head rattled against the wood of the table. “Fuck!” she hissed through her teeth, her foot pushing outward to fling him back in retaliation. It worked; he jolted, his body falling flat onto the floor. 

Her breath quickened, her body adjusting to the adrenaline now coursing through it. As rose on her elbow to inspect the damage, she frowned. Coriolanus sat before her, running his thumb against the bottom of his lip. When he inspected his fingers, he was overcome with quiet astonishment. They both were. There was a red droplet smeared on his finger, the blood fresh. The sight of it thrilled her. It did. She was not sorry to admit that. She only worried how he would take it, how he would respond. If he called someone, anyone important, she could be in trouble. What she did was not exactly legal. 

“Coriolanus—“ she began apologetically. He rose a hand to shut her up. It was like blood on snow, the cream white of his hand smeared with the dark red of his blood. How ironic. 

He rose to his feet, laughing coldly as he tongued the spot on his lip. It wasn’t terrible, but it’d be an injury he couldn’t hide. People would ask about it. She began to cower, drawing her knees up the closer he came to her. 

“There’s no reason to be scared,” he assured, though the frenzied look in his eyes didn’t put her much at ease. His bloodied finger wrapped around one of her ankles. It melted in the fabric, but would no doubt stain later when it faded to rusty brown. This suit would be ruined. She tried her best to remain calm. She had survived worse. She was always surviving.  

“What’s a little blood in a good game between friends?” he spoke levelly. The blood dribbled slowly down his chin and he let it. 

She swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to—not like that. I just meant to—“ she sputtered. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No you’re not. What did I say about us not deceiving each other?” 

His voice was low, angry, his eyes piercing. She carefully watched his fingers on her ankle, anticipating his next move. They remained still, loose. “Maybe I deserved it,” he went on, laughingly. “What’s the saying—an eye for an eye? Maybe that just makes us even.” 

Before the blood trickled down to his white shirt, she moved forward to stop it, as if this would absolve what she’d done—helping him. It was just a dribble, barely anything at all. He flinched, though, when she lurched forth to wipe it. He pinched her wrist between his fingers. 

Coriolanus inspected the spot on her finger like he had his own, his lips attempting to twitch into something resembling a smile. It was unsettling, and she was happy when she pulled back and he let her. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her softly again. He let go of her ankle. 

She stared into his eyes until they finally became penetrable again. After she nodded in quiet acquiescence, Coriolanus took her hand back. He  looked her in the eyes, wrapped his warm mouth around her two blood-stained fingers and moaned. It was so lewd, so unlike anything she could’ve imagined him doing, and she couldn’t help but show her shock; she yelped as his tongue grazed between her fingers. 

Her slack jawed reaction offered him the reprieve he needed to get them back on track; his lips slid off her fingers and he pulled her closer, guiding her into another kiss. She could taste cooper on his tongue more than she could his roses now. This was against her rules, anything with blood, but it felt hard earned, like a reward on her part more than his. 

Coriolanus took advantage of the fact that her slacks were unbuttoned and slid his hand down between their bodies. He spread his fingers through the patch of hair she had teased him with on that ill fated night, when he had come so close to giving in to her, reveling in the fact that he had her now. And it did feel like exactly that: like he had her, like a bird in a cage. He had her beneath his touch, he had her wearing the clothes he’d picked out, in the house of his own making, wearing the very blood she’d drawn from his lip. Even the slight pulsating feeling that resided there still only added fuel to the fire that she’d awoken in him. 

She was a terrible thing, and he saw it in her eyes when she’d kicked him back—that frightening jolt of excitement that came from the illicit. The fact that she hated him, that he could see it in her eyes as clearly as he had been able to derive anything else from her, did not bother him. It comforted him. She was no Lucy Gray. Not even throwing poor Lucy Gray in an arena to fight to the death could make her half as jaded as the woman beneath his touch. She had done worse and lived through it. Yes, he believed her. 

The simple truth of it was that if she wasn’t a whore and destitute, he’d marry her in a heartbeat. While Livia Cardew was a wonderful choice, and one he was close to sealing the deal on, Livia wasn’t like this woman. He knew that there would never be a danger of loving either of them, that his heart could never open the way it had for Lucy Gray for anyone so cold and cynical. But he knew, unlike with Livia, he could delight in life with this one—that she could make him better, not for all her surrender, but the process of wearing her down to it. He pictured it: the Presidential Palace of his dreams, expansive and grand, and her lying in a four-poster bed waiting for him after a long day in red silk sheets, wearing nothing but this black transparent set. When he entered her it would not be a chore, or something given, but a game hard won—and he knew she’d like it too, that the defeat would fill her with comfort because she knew the depths of true exhaustion and it wouldn’t be like that. He’d seen the hollowed home of hers, knew she lived through the Dark Days just as well as the rest of them and recovered about as well as his family had. To lose his game would be nothing; he’d cloth her and feed her and fuck her full of heirs no matter what.  

He wouldn’t want Livia to do this. She wouldn’t do it half as well. There was a vulnerability to this woman that Livia Cardew didn’t possess, a vulnerability she tried hard to forge into strength and almost succeeded at. It was thrilling to watch, to see her hold her head up so assuredly beneath his hard gazes, to watch the devastating power she possessed when she needed something badly enough. He hated her but she no longer disgusted him; she thrilled him. He’d be happy to play this game every day for the rest of his life—would be pleased to shed blood for something as giving as this pursuit. He’d done more for less. 

Her cunt was hot and wet, and rubbing a single finger through it relieved him more than he would readily communicate. But he didn’t have to; he slumped into her, gave way. She gripped at his arms, let him swallow her breathy little moans into his mouth as he teased over her core with his fingertip. He knew that when he entered her, it would change something—ruin him, maybe, the way she’d forecasted—and he didn’t yet want to do it. A part of him would lose and would remain lost forever, and he wasn’t ready to contend with that truth yet. 

He gathered her slick on his fingers and began to grind down on her clit. Slowly at first, letting her adjust to the feeling, then quickly, delighting wholly in the way she couldn’t help but tighten her grip on his arms. 

Coriolanus was not a man who liked self-imposed ignorance. After returning from District 12, he’d begun to undertake his study in sexuality, with nearly as much ardor as he had his education. He and Lucy Gray never had done anything beyond kissing and heavy petting. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to—he’d wanted to wait until she seemed eager, ready, when they could be alone, away from the Covey, from Sejanus—but it never worked out. He understood it to be for the best. If they had he’d probably be tethered to the foolish notion that sex had to mean something. When he got back, Coriolanus took to the female attention that had been directed towards him for much longer than he had wished it to be. It had started with Clemensia, for he had known he could trust her for her frankness and he found her to be the prettiest. 

He knew what he was doing now—had undertaken many hours in the laboratory of women’s intricate, often complex forms. Sometimes men, too, he wasn’t ashamed to admit. There was nothing he did not want to know—especially about himself. Lucy Gray had taken him by surprise because he’d made the mistake of being unknowing, of not having a strong sense of his character and a fluid purpose. He worked through that, saw himself out to the other side: he knew what he liked, who he liked, when he liked it. 

Well, mostly. She surprised him, but that was perfectly fine because he was solving this too, wasn’t he?

Her nails dug crescent shaped indentations into the pale of his skin, nearly cutting enough to draw blood again, but not quite. He nuzzled against her throat with his nose, taking to the sting of it. He went faster on her clit, harder. “You can never just play nice, can you?” he husked. He nipped alongside the edge of her jaw, ignoring the ache in his lip. “You’re so fucking wet. You like this. Like my blood on your tongue and my hands down the front of your pants. Makes you feel powerful doesn’t it?” 

She covered his mouth with one of her hands, her face contorting into a fine pleasure-pain expression that sent jolts right down to his cock. He could tell she was close, that she was going to come any second based on the way she was drawing her legs together—or at least trying to. Her grip was fierce on his arm and she was uncaring of the wound she had given him, pressing her palm to it. If she drew fresh blood, he wouldn’t be surprised. Wouldn’t mind. He’d lick it from her palm, too. 

He finally relented when he felt she was getting too close, and he sunk a single finger into her, keeping his thumb pressed steadily onto her clit as he did. She moaned, loud and audacious, her entire body arching up into him. With his free hand, he gripped her chin hard and, shaking off her hand from his face, pushed his lips into hers. She came, her fingers tugging on his hair, her nails clawing at his arm, her tongue touching his, exploring, tasting, lingering. 

And then she slumped against him, sated and out of breath. He smirked, though she could not see it. This was his victory, and a sweet victory it was. Here she was: docile, collasped in his arms, pleased because he had made her so.  

When he felt she had had enough time to recuperate, he took his finger from the welcomed heat of her cunt and placed it on her tongue. It did not shock her the way he thought it might’ve—the way he would’ve liked. She wrapped her lips around it without a second thought, drawing it in deeper, her eyes latching seductively onto his. His cock twitched at the sight and at the feel of it, knowing that she was tasting of herself and without a hint of shame or remorse coloring her. Good Capital girls weren’t ever so bold. It took awhile to get them to do things like this, or to even admit that they might like the idea of it. 

And she knew he liked it—that what had been plebeian before now seemed desirable as he explored and touched and undid. The state she found herself in was not an unprecedented outcome as much as it was a detour. She would still end up where she had intended to be in the beginning. Coriolanus was better than she would’ve thought he could’ve been, sure, but it did not detract from the fact that at his core he was fundamentally the same as the rest of them. That in his eyes, which burned wildly of passion, and his mind, which no doubt thought single-mindedly of success, was like that of a million others before him. Unexceptional in his perceived exceptionalism. 

She took her mouth off of him, sucking her cheeks so hollowly around his finger that she made a sweet popping sound. Coriolanus was like a spectator. That’s the best way she could perceive him: as an audience, taken completely with her and her unpredictability, hanging onto the edge of his seat, wondering what on earth she would do next. His eyes followed her movements closely. She thought of his Games—the one with the tributes that could be bet on, and watched constantly—and she wondered how much different this was to that for him. How sick of a man was he? Where was the line, as he asked her? Did he know it?

She guided his hand down to her chest. This he seemed to understand, taking the lead, catching her pebbled nippled against his palm as he massaged one of her breasts. She shrugged off the blazer—which had scarcely been hanging on for a while now—and tugged down her bra impatiently, exposing more of herself to him. He took the opportunity to lean his head down again. Coriolanus ran the flat of his tongue against one of her nipples, while squeezing the other between his fingers. The nature of it bordered on painful but he never committed to it, edging her up to the slight sting of too much pressure and then coaxing her out of it, sucking, rubbing lightly. 

His lips were glossy when he perched up to kiss her. She smiled. “You’re awful agreeable when your cock is hard—though I guess I knew it would be. I think that’s why you hate whores like me: we excite you to the state of pliability.” 

He took her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged at the flesh. “You’d like to think that,” He kissed over the spot, tending it with an affection that didn’t belong to him. It felt borrowed, stolen, an amusing role he was trying to fill out as not to startle her with the true depth of his cruelty. “I hate what you do but I understand it, don’t you see? I told you as much before. You whores — as you so crassly put it — are like a small stain on a good piece of fabric: some you can hide better than others.” 

She yanked roughly at his hair, drawing a hiss from his lips. But his grin did not fade. “What does that make you, then?” she retorted, “With your cock hard for me? Paying to finger me?” 

She palmed him through his slacks and Coriolanus let out a shuddery breath, shocked by the sudden relief of it. His next response was amused, his voice lighter. “But you’re not like other whores are you? There’s a hierarchy and you’re at the top of yours. The finest quality. If there’s ever a cunt to sink into, it’s yours—“ His eyes rolled back as she unzipped his slacks and slid her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. Her fingers gripped tightly around his base and his nose brushed against hers as he leaned into her touch, his palms flattening on the table. “—fuck.” 

With her free hand she propped him up, laughing against his shoulder. “Oh, Coriolanus,” she purred against the shell of his ear. His shaft was leaking pre-cum and she rubbed some of it down his cock, taking note of his response to her grip; the way the muscles in his neck fluctuated, how his hips bounced back and forth, how his breathing labored. Her teeth tugged on his earlobe. “You ought to get a condom, before you make a mess of yourself in your slacks. I can tell you want it so bad, Coryo.”

His hand gripped her throat. “Don’t call me that,” he said, his voice low—ringing serious, desperate. She didn’t listen. 

“Coryo, please,” she begged. His cock twitched in her hand and his hand tightened on her throat, threatening. It was a warning. She wanted to ruin him—wanted him to think about her forever, wanted to hate her as badly as she felt she hated him—but she couldn’t let him finish like this. She needed him inside of her, the truest defeat.

“I’ll show you how good I can be,” she coaxed, her tugs on his cock becoming more lingering. From the tip to the base, slow and teasing. He was decently sized. more girth than he was length. She was happy he knew what foreplay was. “I’ll show you how good we can be, and that’s what you really want, isn’t it? To know that I can submit to you as you’ve to me? And I can, Coryo.” 

His eyes pressed closed. She kissed the side of his mouth. “You don’t want what those men want, do you? Not even in a better form. You want more from me. Something I’ve never given them. Isn’t that right?” She kissed him fully on the lips now and he let her—even opened his mouth to accept her tongue against his. A man heavily seduced. “I bet you’d like to fuck me with nothing on, wouldn’t you?” 

She knew what he wanted. She needed him to say it to. To admit it for the both of them. His eyes looked so light, almost crystal, when he opened them again. He swallowed hard. “You’re such a cunt.”

“You’re not paying me to lie to you. You’re paying for my every thought, isn’t that right?” She gripped his cock tighter in her hand and he sucked in a breath through his gritted teeth. “I think you want to tell me what you’re thinking so badly it’s killing you. You shouldn’t be afraid of it, not anymore. We’ve already come so far. A little farther won’t kill you.”

“Such a dirty wh—“

“You told me, you said however banal the thought—“

“I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing anything. You’re just afraid of it—the depth of your want.” 

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. He rutted into her hand, the warmth of it beyond relieving after so much of nothing. She let him. As his hips pushed into her, into the table, she watched how the desperation took hold of him. Coriolanus' breathing became labored. She wondered how long it had been—if he denied himself this pleasure. He gripped tightly onto the edge of the table, drawing closer and closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic. 

With an almost sickening amount of satisfaction, she let go of his cock. Coriolanus rutted into nothing with a harsh grunt, his head bouncing into her shoulders as he realized what she’d done and began to sag from the betrayal. 

He gripped her face between his hands. “You think you’re so very clever—and you are—but you won’t win this. Not against me.” He squished up her cheeks, drew her closer to his face. His patience had thinned. “I’m not like those bastards you fool around with. Everyone knows you don’t fuck whores without a condom—even the most cunning ones. Don’t play the cards you don’t have because it’s beneath you,” he growled out before letting her go. 

She watched with mild curiosity as he stalked away from her. It was an act she found equal parts amusing and hypocritical. He reminded her of a wounded animal, snapping at whatever it perceives to be a threat in blind rage. 

“You like the game, don’t you, Coriolanus?” she asked him lightly. 

He peered at her over his shoulder. “I have always liked the making of it more than I liked the playing of it.”

He had retreated back to his clinical tone; measured, calculated, clipped. She gathered her composure and slid off the table. He tensed beneath her when she wrapped herself around his torso, and his hands gripped onto her own. But he did not push her away. He was warm, still flushed from his desire, and she knew he did not have it in him to deny her. His cock was hard, leaking, and he allowed himself the room to want this. To imagine it. They were too far into this now. 

She laid her head against his back and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. She slid her hand beneath the cool fabric. Her fingers explored the hardened expanse of his chest, dipped down to his abs teasingly. His heart hammered away in his chest—perhaps the most honest thing about him. His body began to ease, unintentionally, back into her own, and she undid the few remaining buttons on his dress shirt. He let it fly open. 

Coriolanus turned around. He kissed her suddenly, and it wasn’t like before—not rough, but almost tender, all consuming. “I think we should go to my bedroom in case Tigris comes back. Sometimes she does that,” he whispered against her lips. 

“Lead the way,” she responded. And he did. 

Coriolanus’ room was luxurious, but sensible; it was obvious from the design it was a space meant to be slept in rather than inhabited: the four poster bed, the orange hued lamps, the heavy drawn curtains. Everything was the best quality, but it was plain, almost antiquated. Like hers, if she could have his money. 

He didn't put much stock in how she felt about the room, though. When the door shut, they resumed their working relationship. He eased her out of the slacks and she relieved him of his shirt; he unlatched her diaphanous bra, and she tugged on his pants; he shimmed the underwear off her hips and he stepped out of his for her without protest, without thought. They were naked in seconds and seemed to understand each other better for it. She laid down on his bed and he stood at the foot of it. 

His cock, which had begun to soften, sprung back to life now without aid. He touched his cock in lazy strokes, noncommittal but desperate. He did have a good looking cock, velvet soft and veiny. A terrible thing for a man so evil, so repressed, to be gifted with something like that.  “No more tricks,” he demanded. 

She opened her legs, the air of the room cool against her wet core. “No more tricks,” she echoed. Coriolanus devoured her before he touched her. 

He moved methodically to the desk in the corner of his room. The condoms were stored in the second drawer, wrapped in gold. Before she could offer to help him put one on, he was already undoing the wrapper and lining himself up to the latex. She watched curiously as he did it. He was stately about it, not coltish or inelegant. In this way, he was unmatched. Men usually bowed to their desires but it seemed he led a disciplined existence. He was too important for fun. 

Her stomach began to flutter with the anticipation of it. It was a betrayal, but not one she couldn’t contend with. Not one that she hadn’t before, in fact. This was how the body worked. This was work. This meant nothing. 

“Are you wet enough?” he asked. 

“I’d say so. I must say, you surprised me.” After a pause, she added, “You surprise me. Present tense.”

His smirk was unmistakable and predicted. “Isn’t it nice, not fucking men like Vitus? Don’t you see what a life you could have if you work for me?”

“Yes,” she cooed. Pliant, sated, prepared beautifully on his satin sheets. A dream he had long awaited and one he wanted so badly it would terrify him if he didn’t understand it throughly. 

Coriolanus crawled between her thighs. He kissed her again, hard, urgent, and she responded in kind, sucking at the end of his tongue, tugging on his now unruly hair. His cock rested on the curve of her stomach, present, aching, seemingly growing harder by the minute. He worked hard not to rub against her. He refused to hump against her like some goddamn puppy who knew no better. 

“Now,” she whispered. He nodded in assent. It was all done by his permission, by his standards. Her hand wrapped around his cock and she guided him to her core, but it was he who pushed in. He who teased the tip, he who slid so slowly that both of their bodies drew in a rigid sigh, he who bottomed out and he who drew up one of her legs to go a little deeper still. 

He needed her and there was a certain release to being able to admit that. It was encouraging. It made him throb inside of her. They looked at one another, breathed in the scent of their sex, and it began. Coriolanus drew back his hips, then pressed forward. His movements were harsh but steady. He delighted in the way she looked up at him like that: like he was fucking her and she felt it, really felt it. And fuck, she was wet, so wet that he could hear it. His cock was a welcome entity inside of her; she clenched around him, seeming to urge him in, begging him to stay. 

An unspeakable thing grew inside of him. The thing she had been right about. The thing that terrified him. His head hung and he watched the way his cock glistened with her slick, how it entered and exited out of her. “You’re mine,” he growled. It came from within and sounded frail. And it was. It belonged to a version of him he did not like. A version of him he could seldom control. He did not do this much anymore and it was for good reason. He had learned what he had needed to. 

She gave a beautiful performance, though. Bleary-eyed with want, convincing as she raised her hips to meet him—like she might need this half as badly as he did. “Yes,” she answered. He hated her. 

You hate her. You hate her. He repeated it like a mantra, his hips snapping into hers based on the unvaried rhythm of it. And he did hate her. She was a whore and she was a good one. His arms bracketed her head and said it. “I hate you.” 

“Fuck,” was her response. Fuck. His cock pounded inside of her and she moaned. Her nails began to dig into his skin again. This he liked most of all. The nobility of having shed blood had grown on him since he had first killed a person. 

He brought up the other leg. She gasped. It could not be any easier to push inside of her than it was now. God she was wet. He began to grind inside of her. She drew blood on his back. The sting of it was a relief. Penance. Fuck. 

He didn’t bother with making her come. He thought about it but he felt she didn’t need to. Not again. He was paying her for this. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, not for someone like her. To come inside of her because of his own thoughts was one thing but to come because she did, because she was trembling with her own want and he liked it—

He came. His body went slack and it surprised them both. She wrapped her hands in his hair as he collapsed into her body, and he could feel the heavy thud of heart. Or maybe that was his. It was hard to tell where one began and one ended during these things. He hated that most of all. 

Coriolanus drew out of her as soon as he could. He was not embarrassed. He was startled, but not embarrassed. It felt cleansing. But then he did something unforgivable. He did not leave her with her legs parted, did not watch with scorn as she laid in the filth of her occupation. Did not hate her because of what she was but rewarded her for it. 

Her gasp was as genuine when his tongue parted her folds. He ate her out in earnest, his eyes watching the way his tongue made her react. When she played with her nipples, so unabashed about what she wanted, he put his mouth on her clit and sucked. He did want her to come. Because of him. For him. Her hips jerked and he followed along with the movements. 

She tasted vaguely of him, but acidic, tangy, dangerous, too. Her fingers raked through his hair, and he entered two fingers inside of her. Clemmie used to like this. Livia would, too. He was good at it. 

“Oh, Coriolanus,” she whined. He hummed against her and the vibration reached her core. She shook and tugged and pleaded, her hips doing their best to get away, but he wouldn’t let them. He felt her clinch around his fingers. “Coriolanus,” she gasped. She came once, twice. Three times would be too indulgent. This is where he drew the line. 

He fell to her side with a heaving chest. They were both too warm, spent, surprised by the extent of what they had done to speak about it. In his mind he was building her a cage, and she was already searching for the key next to him. 

After a while, he turned to her. She did not look at him but continued to stare blankly at the ceiling. “How much?” he asked her. It felt customary. 

She wanted to say: More than you can give. She wanted to say: Everything you’ve got. She wanted to say: I will tell you no secrets, I won’t help you, I hate you. But she didn’t. She thought of home, what remained of it, and she said: “More than the first time.”

She was nothing like him but one did not need to be Coriolanus Snow to understand this: money was king, and he who had the most was the winner. 

But she understood something far better than he did. She had taken something from him he hadn’t intended to give, and that was something money could not buy. His blood was beneath her fingernails. His cuff links were in the pocket of her blood stained suit. Tomorrow she would begin to make her house right again. Tomorrow she would tell him what she knew about the men she slept with—all of it. Turn them all against each other, hopefully, ruin the whole damn empire. Maybe she would steal something else, eat his food, fuck him again, see how far she could go before he noticed how much of his life she usurped. Would he begin to blur the line between performance and reality? She was sure he might. Already he had his hand on her wrist, tracing lightly against it.  

He was the winner but now she was out for more than just a single victory. This was war and she was choosing her battles wisely. 

Looking in his direction, she turned her lips up almost imperceptibly into a grin. Her eyes were soft, still teary from the sex. He seemed…at ease. Sated. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

 “For what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“This opportunity,” she said warmly. “I know it’s going to change things for me. I can see that.” 

In his eyes it appeared: the propensity for being needed. He smiled, too. “It will,” he told her.  

Yes, she was the victor and the crown had yet to feel heavy.