#only for her to get lost in love drama again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiss-me-muchoo · 5 months

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𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬, 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: stop, you’re losing me || part two: in the trees, in the breeze (here)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ your memory kept haunting Coriolanus Snow, so he found the way to end his exile. It’s a new era, but the same old feelings between Coriolanus and you keep causing scandals. Although, you are not ready to let go the pain he caused to you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ Capitol ballerina!reader, angst, drama, violence and death lol, jealousy, unhinged Coriolanus, sex mentions, reader still has health problems, etc. 13k words fic IM SORRY

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ hear this along Can’t catch me now, I’m not an OR fan but I love that song from her. I mean, who didn’t? And thank you for the wait and loveeeee. PLEASE TELL ME OF ANY ERRORS BC I CAN’T BE ALMOST ACCUSED OF BEING TRANSPHOBIC PLEASEEEE

♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

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Red, blue, red, red, yellow, green, green, pink.

Every color is correctly marked. A nurse smiles with some papers on her hand before she dissapears.

You can get dressed again. The color test was done, your vision was okay.

Purple and green bruises are scattered across your skin. Some appeared on your inner thighs. Two on your knees and one on the ribs from the day you collapsed after the post-Hunger Games celebration. You sigh covering your skin with a long floral dress. The reflection of yourself on the mirror salutes you with a tired, broken and sad face. It makes you force a smile, pretending more people were watching you. The room in empty though.

“Everything is fine. Your body is responding well to the shots.” A doctor asks as soon as he walks in into the room.

“The only thing that worries me is your mental health. Have you been stressed or has anything happened to you that could be considered a traumatic experience?”

The pointe shoes soaked in blood. The unstoppable bleeding on your feet. The late nights with panic attacks and over thinking. That young blonde man and the songbird together. The night on dressing room, how your hand burned after slapping the man so hard. The shock of all the events surrounding your life two weeks ago. How you lost control, your head spinning, blurred vision, heart pounding, numb arms and how you felt the oxygen was leaving. All the things you did for someone who never deserved you, making you shatter, fainting as soon as you finished dancing.

“Miss y/l/n… Are you okay?” The distant voice of the doctor breaks your bubble. You shake your head in disguise before turning away from the mirror, facing him and smiling politely.

“Yes, I’m fine. I was very stressed, yeah. Working with the production of the Hunger Games. My artistic performances, last days at the Academy. It was a lot…” the doctor sighs, annotating something. He then handed you the paper.

“I’m giving you some treatment for that. And please, you have to be careful and calm. Only that way the medicine will help everything to work here” he points his head. You nod, accepting the paper.

After that, you leave the private hospital. Trevor is there, your chauffeur and friend. He smiles, opening the door for you.

“Thank you, Trevor” he starts the car soon after.

“Is everything okay?” You nod, looking at the bright day at the Capitol.

“I just need to relax and eat well.” Trevor had trimmed his hair. It made him look younger, making you smile at the memory of him saying his wife was his hairstylist.

“Good. Oh, I received a call from your mother. This woman…uh, Dr. Volumnia Gaul? She wants to see you at the Univeristy today” you frown to look at him confused.

“Oh? So… Can we go now?” He nods, turning left to start the route. Meanwhile, you wonder what could she want. You made your part, the games had a higher amount of viewers compared to last year. You engaged with the production and the celebration was at full capacity. Your little accident even made it more attractive to the media. Appearing on the papers and magazines across Panem.

And after everything, you still wanted to keep dancing. Or else range would consume you.

…

It’s the first time you step inside the Capitol’s University. It’s very similar to the Academy, but the floor tiles are green and white. There’s a lot of white, cream, golden and black decorating the halls and long stairs.

Since it’s summer, most of the building was empty. Only some of the staff, and very few people who seemed like students. You see they dress very elegant. Some women wore hats with feathers or flowers. The men wore classy suits and you genuinely thought you would fit in.

You couldn’t wait to have some sense of normality as a Univeristy student along Clemensia and Lysistrata. Your only close friends left. Well, also Festus and Sejanus.

What seems like the private office of Gaul has a red door. Inside, she had a laboratory, smaller but weirder than the one you had seen before. Full of dissected creatures, tanks and crystal containers with unknown chemicals.

Some steps further and you see her desk, where she is collecting some folders and putting them away in some shelves.

“Glad to see you breathing, miss y/l/n…” somehow you found the humor to smile coldly.

“As you can see.” You reply standing perfectly correct.

“By this point you should know what happened to Mr. Snow” goosebumps make you shake your shoulders slightly, you nod again.

“He was exiled. Twenty years. He lied to me and did not said a thing about cheating on the games”

“Indeed. However this morning, I just discovered he bribed a woman to be sent to District 12.” You bite your tongue to hide your fury. A hot feeling invade your chest in rage. But you just breathe, failing to not show discontent.

“That’s not any of my business anymore.” Even Gaul seems taken aback. However, she doesn’t say anything, she just keeps pulling away the pile of folders.

“Well, since it seems you both parted ways… I must share that I’m deleting any record or data related to the 10th Hunger Games. Too many things happened before, during and after the games. Things that would compromise the reputation of the whole organization. Including me, the Academy, the mentors, you and Mr. Snow” honestly, you don’t know what to say. You just frown slightly, demonstrating how confused you were. But you also understood with half of the context. The death of Arachne, Coriolanus and his odd ways to make his songbird oustand, the rebel attack, Lucy Gray Baird winning from cheat. And the things you didnt know like Sejanus entering the arena.

However, you stick to your parent’s advice. You have to think about you and anyone else.

“I understand. But I did my part. I completed my task so I hope this decision doesn’t jeopardize my grant” she smiles. Dr. Gaul secretly believed that you and Coriolanus Snow could rule Panem together. In a sick and evil way, so she really hoped her dark intentions would work.

“Of course not. We had a deal. The views went up this year. You brought a new vision for the promotion that I’ll hardly let go.” The ambition started tickling you. Making you roll your tongue inside your closed mouth, at the verge of opening it and talking.

“Good.”

“In fact, you would be a nice option to become head of the promotion and relations team.” From the last games, you realized the director only gave instructions but he rarely did the dirty job. You liked having some power over the games. And now, a childish and unjustified resentment towards District 12 made you smile as Gaul offered you a new job.

“Is it a possible option to be working in behalf of my mother’s institution?”

“You’re very smart, y/n y/l/n. You are going further than Mr. Snow” your smile only grows, knowing you are nit being correct. You are letting the rage and resentment to guide you. You will make your last name shine brighter than your parents did. Just to rub it in the face of certain blonde who was now exiled. Probably savoring the country life of District 12.

“I just want to make my family’s name bigger than it already is” the woman giggles, taking out a red envelope and handing it you.

“I assume you’ll pursue the arts as you’re speciality. But if you want to get involved with the production, marketing and relations. You are taking politics and some lessons with me” when you look down at the envelope, the golden logo of the university is greeting you. It’s the admission letter.

“I expect to see you here by the end of the summer” you nod, thanking her.

And as you walk outside where Trevor is waiting for you, you have a cocky smile. Feelings like things could go better. You don’t even remember the doctor’s appointment you were in before coming to see Gaul.

…

Your soft hands gently brush against his forehead. Coriolanus had chills, he hadn’t had fever since he was 15 years old. But your hands are so soft even when they feel cold as ice. He just knows he’s in his bed. In his rottening penthouse. He can see a slightly blurred image of you, wearing a green dress, your hair in a braid, a golden necklace, dark purple lips. He can’t hear your words, but you are talking to him, spreading some cream across his chest, immediately he felt the mint soothing his cough and pain. He must’ve said something funny, because he can now see clearly your face, gorgeous as always. And he can clearly hear you laughing.

Coriolanus wakes up smiling. And he realised he was dreaming.

He was in a small and creaky lower bunk bed. Sejanus sleeping in the upper bunk. The sun hasn’t come up. And he’s a peacekeeper in District 12.

It’s been weeks since he left the Capitol. And since day one, you seem to be haunting him.

Current dreams of you, swearing to be hearing your voice. It makes him want to call you every single day. But he doesn’t. He was able to forget about you when he was in the peacekeeper training and duties. When he was with Lucy Gray any trace of you was gone. But as soon as he had a moment alone, he would remember everyhting about you.

He missed you. Painfully a lot.

Every Friday, he had been sending the letters. He hoped your mother would hand them to you. But Coriolanus knew you too well to know you likely would not be reading them. Nonetheless, he was letting himself to write the most vulnerable pieces of him, putting his heart on each word and phrase. Hoping that by the time his exile was over, you would have forgiven him.

When the sun rise, he’s up along the rest of the boys. Sejanus gives him a friendly smile and they’re out exercising and doing jobs all day long. During his break, he’s able to seat in an old bench, with a beautiful view of an open green field.

That’s when he dreams of seeing there, dancing or simply standing there with a sundress. Like the ones you used to wear on summer when he visited the house your parents had in District 4. He dreams so hard that he swears seeing the skirt of your dress swaying through the trees. And that’s when he knows he’s so fucked up.

But that’s long forgotten after the break is over. And by the night, he’s on the biggest bar of the town. He sees Lucy Gray singing something new. He honestly never understood the meaning behind her songs, but he was enchanted by her do what she loved.

After her live presentation, a big projector was introduced. They started playing the weather with Lucky Flickerman. Which made Coriolanus miss the Capitol.

“They’re probably waiting for some women. That’s why the always start that thing” Lucy Gray said, appearing by his side. He smiled at her.

“To see women?” She nodded, grabbing a glass of cold water.

“You know who are men around her” with no tv around, no ostentatious lifestyles, men could get excited with little makeup and satin gowns. Coriolanus was disgusted by many mannerism of the 12. But he was happy to be able to find some peace along the songbird.

“See? What’s that thing by the way?” When Coriolanus turned around to see the old projector, he almost choked.

It was the summer fundraising charity of your mother. Another luxurious gala to help the constructions of the Capitol after war. However, that wasnt the most impressive part for Coriolanus. It was the fact that you were getting in pose to start a performance.

Lucy Gray Baird was in shock. So if she was surprised, the men all around the bar where cheering and whistling.

There you were, with curled wet hair, metallic bronze makeup, wine lips, golden bracelet on your arms. But the attire. A two piece set that let your legs and stomach show off. With bare feet, and two elegant knives. One on each hand. Your cocky smile was back. And it was ruining Coriolanus Snow.

He literally jumped from his seat, leaving Lucy Gray to cross the river of men and properly see you.

She knew you had broken up with him. And that relieved the songbird, as she felt like she could let her feelings for Coriolanus flow freely. But seeing the boy literally hipnotized as soon he saw you, it made her feel uneasy. Deeply she knew that Coriolanus wasn’t over you. And no matter what, you were a sensible subject for him. That not even herself could ever test.

But he kept going. Each step meant hearing them say how good you looked, the places where they’d put their hands on your body. It boiled his blood.

But he finally, the dance killed him. Because maybe for the capitol you were still elegant and classy. Their eyes would publicly appreciate your art, and privately let their mind wander with your half naked body. But for people from the 12. It was like throwing a piece of meat to lions in starvation.

With your hips swaying tentatively, pointed feet letting everyone know how flexible you were. That sassy look on your face that Coriolanus was feeling too personal. It was like you were saying look what you lost.

He was used to see you in pastel tutus, hair in a bun. Not this goddess ritual dance type of thing. The music was very different, something very uncommon in Panem. He really wants to punch every man in the room. He sees how most of the women in the bar see your graceful image with disgust. And Coriolanus couldn’t blame them. But it made him remember that he had lost the right to call you his. And that intrusive thought made him automatically think he wanted to go back home so badly.

Your sensual and meticulous steps keep going, the knives making him remember the folk tales of women dancing with sharp objects to show fertility, honor of their kingdom and to seal a man’s faith. Every minute more desperate for Snow, who’s over the edge of hearing men say plenty of things about you. But soon, the music stops with you arched, straight knees, your curls kissing the stage, the knives perfectly pointing like a clock.

Coriolanus doesnt miss your evil smile. He can sense you are changing. And he remember all the pain he caused you, making him sigh in resignation. His desire of going back for you only growing.

“I’m sorry I left like that” he explains to Lucy Gray. She notices how quick he drank his beer. She was a woman after all, she knew the effect a fine woman could have on men. Especially on the one who was her lover. The one that probably hurt her and left her, ending their history in bad terms.

“It’s okay. I told you she was very pretty before” Coriolanus learns that Lucy Gray was not being sarcastic that day at the zoo.

…

It had come to the point where he couldn’t run away from his thoughts. Coriolanus was borderline obsessed with your memory. He constantly wondered how you were doing. He had to ask Tigris every time they talked to see learn anything about you.

For the first time, since he left the Capitol, Tigris shares that she had talked to you.

Coriolanus was surprised to hear that the reason you gave about the breakup was only because he cheated with Lucy Gray.

You didn’t said a word about him the lies, the last argument you two had. You only say that his songbird was special. And that you stopped to be what he needed.

Which was heavily mistaken. Some days before August accepted that you were the only thing he needed to keep going. He imagines a fake scenario where you came to the 12 with him. You find a humble home where you wait till his training is over. The lake where he spent hours with Lucy Gray and The Covey could’ve been hours with you. Talking about anything and everything. He would’ve come straight home to you when the training was over. Make love to you, promise to fight for a higher position, possibly as a commander one day and marrying you. And soon the years would’ve passed, his exile would be over and you would go back to the Capitol with him. Maybe some children along.

But that would never happen. And his delusion was starting to make him find a way to go back where he belonged.

He questioned if his urges where for power, or to get back the woman he loved.

Whatever the reason was, a lot of people would pay the price. First were the daughter of the mayor and her partner, then the man who had the decency to hide the gun he used to kill those two.

His hands trembling as he pressed to record Sejanus. But he knew there were high possibilities of being heard. And that way, he would go back. He would find you and slowly start again.

The death of Sejanus would haunt him for a long time. He knew he was a close friend of yours, which made him get chills, uneasy to decide what could be your reaction to the news. Either way, it was done. The heavens had to have heard him. He was offered to serve in District 2, gain some money and he could easily take the train to see you if anything.

But Lucy Gray had other plans. And Coriolanus wasnt even sure of what he was doing. Probably in his rambling and panic after everything he went through as a peacekeeper, one side of him wanted to run away and never see back again. To forget about his decisions as a mentor, to forget about his decisions as a peacekeeper and to forget about you. That way he would never have to face all the pain he caused you.

After some hours of walking, Coriolanus should have seen the signs.

“Everyone in the Covey are really good dancers. But I don’t think it’s my thing. I just have my voice…” Lucy Gray said, holding her bag tightly. Coriolanus only smiled, remembering how bad the songbird was when he tried to teach her how to waltz.

“Is it like… exclusive in the Capitol?”

“I think so. Today there’s only one institution, the mother of…” he goes quiet, realizing what he was about to say.

“…y/n?” She asked, almost nervous about mentioning your name. But in reality, she wasnt. After Coriolanus nodded, they just kept walking in silence.

“Her mother founded it?”

“It was her grandmother actually. Mine knew her, and they were kind of friends” he said smiling, trying to look away from Lucy Gray so he couldn’t see him smiling.

Once you leaned Coriolanus was financially struggling some years ago, you ended up visiting him for the first time. That day you learned Grandma’am was friend of your family before your mother was born. And that only made her appreciate you faster. Which made Coriolanus happy. Finally seeing her grandmother to let go the days of the war and any crazy ideas that stayed on her mind. All thanks to you.

“Grandma’am even started planting pink roses for her.” It slipped out automatically, he couldn’t control it.

“She’s like ink…” Coriolanus missed the point. But after some minutes of silence, he understood what Lucy Gray said. Which resulted true. Metaphorically, you were the brightest tint he’d ever seen. He let that ink fall and splash everywhere, leaving stains on him that probably would never leave.

And finally, Lucy Gray Baird fell to her end in the shallow woods. Hunted like a prey. By a broken man who decided to stop being good. Who was losing his mind for the pieces of a woman he let go so easily.

That changes like the destination of Coriolanus.

He’s going back to the Capitol. With tiny sparks of hope. But firmly believing that everyhting was meant to happen like that so he could go back to you.

However, as he came closer, Coriolanus realized he was lost. He had no idea what would await for him. And what version of you would greet him.

…

There isn’t an exact period over the Capitol that can’t be considered as autumn. The summer was practically over, and winter was already happening. Coriolanus had to wait longer than expected to get into University. In the meantime, he accepted the money from the Plinth family. He decided to get ahead of time. He used the last hot days to get Tigris and Grandma’am back to the penthouse. He bought the whole building and in two weeks the whole place was renewed. There was only one thing he couldn’t get rid of. The living room and entrance olive paint you brought. He painted the halls, dining room, studio and kitchen in a dark blue paint. But he wasnt able to get rid of the memories he made with you. His old self was long gone. But he had his supcisions that the version he was for you would never change.

However, he decided to stay afar from the public eye for that month after returning from exile.

Tigris said she hadn’t seen you. But that was okay. He would soon enter to University. He was going to see you there.

Eventually the day came. He gets rid off Casca Highbottom and then he walks towards the big and imposing University of the Capitol. He had a driver now, but he thought it wouldn’t be bad to use the mornings to walk.

In his first hours inside, he has private lessons with Dr. Gaul. Already mentoring him to be a game maker. She kind of suspects he was involved with the sudden death of Highbottom. But for some reason, Gaul has a lot of hopes in him, so she would easily act blind to keep her plans to keep going.

After that, Coriolanus starts looking out for you. He crosses the big seminar rooms and other halls. Until he is able to locate the arts building. It’s smaller but probably the mots interesting. With a beautiful barroque facade. As soon as he enters, he sees a group of girls holding large canvas with beautiful painting on them. Then, some steps later he spots two guys trying to carry a sculpture. Coriolanus believes that kind of modern art was the future of the Capitol. He had to admit the arts building was fully alive, he even forgot he was still at the university.

Coming down from some stairs, he sees two girls. A red haired and a tanned with black leotards and floral skirts are giggling. They seems like dancers, he doesnt think twice. He’s already approaching the girls.

“Excuse me, ladies. Do you know by any chance where I can find y/n y/l/n?” The girls look cheekily at each other, before smiling at him. Which makes Coriolanus wonder what type of rumours had been flowing around about you and him. Since mostly everyone knew the last Snow heir was dating the daughter of the kings of Panem´s television industry.

“She’s rehearsing now. It’s on the second floor, you’ll hear the music…” he thanks the tanned girl before going upstairs.

She wasn’t lying. He started hearing the classical piano music. He can hear some distant and low cheering. The whole floor is full of dancers. It’s a long hall, to the right, a big studio, with a classical mural, chandeliers and the most giant mirror he’d ever seen.

The people outside the studio see him with curiosity. But he only has eyes for the ballerina dancing all across the studio.

There you are, with a coral tutu, black leotard and thighs. Your pointe shoes seem new. Your cheeks look so pink and your smile is there.

He has to understand that you have become popular enough to have your own fans. Some rumors said that your mother was offering master classes at the University. And he couldn’t help but think how much your family’s name have growth since he left.

He lost count of many turns you did, but you finish cleanly, offering a beautiful view of your tutu wadding.

People start a round of applauses. He debates whether to get closer or not. He doesnt have any speech prepared. He doesn’t know what to say to you.

“Coriolanus?” When he turns around, he sees Clemensia Dovecote there. Her old study buddy looked older, but not in a bad way. He saw the scales on her skin. But he didnt had to ask, he knew it was because of the rainbow snakes. It just seemed weird to see with short sleeves but turtleneck.

“Clemensia” he greets her. Clemmie was probably your female best friend. It wasnt a surprise that suddenly the woman seemed to dislike him.

“Since when you returned?” He looks back at you again. As the music keeps playing, he just smiles. He know the way things would now work. With no how are you questions or anything like the past.

“Some weeks ago.” Clemensia looks like she’s analyzing every movement and word of him.

“Why are you here?” Her hostile tone only makes Coriolanus to act more relaxed than he already is.

“I made the promise to come back for y/n…” the woman stares at him, probably taken aback.

“She doesn’t need this, Coriolanus. She can’t have this” Clemensia had visited you at the hospital. She learned most of his lies towards you. She knew you didn’t deserved to fall again. And especially not because of him.

“I know, Clemmie. I won’t be a burden for her” the music stops, and Coriolanus decides that it’s not time to talk to you yet. So he smiles once again to Clemensia.

“I hope so. Because you already failed her once…” his smile drops. Clemensia dissapears to get inside the studio. Coriolanus stares at you one last time, before he silently walks out.

…

Before you can reach your glass of posca, a porcelain plate with your food slides on the way. A soft piece pile of fried little steaks, with melted cheese and a golden sauce of mushrooms dripping. Your stomach churns and it makes Clemensia laugh.

She had a salmon fine cut with caviar and other exotic stuff. It was a beautiful afternoon to have dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants of the Capitol Downtown.

“Bless your food.”

“Bless your food” you reply back to her.

“So, How it went the rehearsal?” You roll your eyes giggling.

“It was great, until the girls taking the masterclass appeared to see me” your father was right. After working in the production of the 10th Hunger Games, many doors opened for you. Splendid career opportunities here and there. Only that you didn’t enjoy a lot of attention.

“Are they still at the Academy” you nod.

“Rich girls who can make their parents pay the classes of course” Clemensia smiles, drinking a little bit before getting back to eat.

“Coriolanus was looking for you…” you literally stopped eating. You almost drop your fork, but you decided to hold it firmly.

“What?”

“Apparently he’s back.” She reveals. Making you close your eyes in panic.

“How? He was exiled” you say whispering. Clemmie shrugs.

“Gaul. He’s her pupil star. And with Dean Highbottom dead now…” it must’ve been great for Coriolanus to learn the man was gone. Always putting him in the lowest, it was a mark for change.

“Doesn’t matter, I won’t let this get into my way” she smiles.

“What about what your father said?” During a late lunch, you had been talking with your parents, revealing that you broke up with Coriolanus because he cheated. Your mother was shocked, but soon she joined your father to give a twisted advice. He asked if you still loved him. You answered you weren’t sure.

Then I suggest you to proceed to ignore him. Soon you’ll learn his intentions if he ever comes back. Play with him a little. Show him that nobody will laugh in the face of family like ours. Let your hands get dirty, but never show this insecurity you’re talking about.

From that day, you still wake up every morning without knowing how you actually feel about Coriolanus Snow. You know you can’t just simply forget about all the things you did with him. But you firmly pretended that he was in the past.

“I still don’t know how I feel about him.”

“Are you still in contact with his family?” You remember Tigris and Grandma’am.

“Not as much as I used to”

“Mhm. Did they ever learned what happened?” You sigh.

“Just that he opted to choose the songbird before me. And I know Tigris has her own opinion. I just never gave her the opportunity to share it.”

“With him back… probably you’ll find out sooner than later” Clemensia admits, leaving you thinking for the rest of the dinner.

Turns out that you are not ready to find out yet.

…

The first time you see him, it’s at the gardens of the University. You had lunch and wanted to have a brief walk. Through a maze of flowers and plants, you spot him on a bench. He’s very concentrated reading a book. Your eyes widen, seeing how much different he looked. The posture, the clothes, the hair, the cold look.

Something notoriously changed. And you have your suspicions. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sejanus was gone, and Lucy Gray Baird had dissapeared.

You mourned the death of Sejanus one week. You send your condolences to his parents at the funeral. And that night you cam’s help but cry on your pillow. Wondering why had life slowly turned dark. In a matter of months you had experienced things you never thought you would. You lost people, you had your first heart broken. You had lost the will to do much things. But, you had to keep going. And you felt guilty, because you thought you had no right to feel like your life was hard, just for being Capitol. The districts struggled more. However, it’s not on your power to mend their lives. Just as it’s not their case to judge your life.

And now, seeing Coriolanus so firm, so calm, it makes you doubt. Sensing that there must’ve been something off about him. Something bad, like all the things he did and hide from you.

You pretend you’re looking for some papers in your bag when you walk past him. He doesn’t see you though, and you thank it.

A couple of days later, you hear for the first time the rumours about him courting Livia Cardew. It makes you feel depressed. You cry out of anger as soon as you get home.

And to your dismay, the first thing you see after turning into a room for the politics class, it’s them. Coriolanus Snow is talking to Livia just beside the door.

That’s the first time you two look at each other again. He sees the anger, discontent and so much resentment. You see the questioning, curiosity and admiration in his eyes.

Nothing else is said because you break the gazes, you walk inside the room with your head high, and your presence is so evident that even Livia has to look at you. Taking too much time to see your beautiful heels.

A week later, you are having a good time with your friends. Festus and Lysistrata are there with you and Clemensia. You are talking all about the upcoming winter gala held at the biggest auditorium in the Capitol. Everyone is excited because it’s the great opportunity to make contacts and eat the most delicious food.

“Is your mother inviting Coriolanus?” Lysistrata asks with curiosity. You roll your eyes.

“I hope not. I haven’t even spoken with him ever since he came back” everyone knew you had broke up with him. But only Clemensia knew the details.

“Because he is courting Livia apparently” Festus mocks, making everyone laugh. Not that any of you had something personal against Livia. But she wasn’t the most brilliant star at the Academy. Now not certainly at University.

“Why Livia?” Clemmie asks laughing.

“Perhaps it’s becase how naïve she is”

“Or because of her father’s inheritance” you add.

“I don’t think so. He’s now the heir of the Plinth fortune” Festus remarks with dessaproval, which makes you feel angered.

“He’s dancing on Sejanus’ grave” your words create some minutes of silence for your late friend. Even when Festus and Lysistrata had made fun of him for being District and the ways of his parents to go up, at the end, they were friends. And now his absence had created a void.

“Ambitious and annoying. Just like his father…” Lysistrata comments sipping on her glass of water.

“How unfortunate. If he had stayed with you, we wouldn’t be talking bad things about him behind his back” you sigh at Clemensia’s words.

“Speaking of the king…” when you look past Lysistrata seated on her chair, you spot Coriolanus. He was wearing a dark grey suit, he looked so fine you had to admit. But soon you look away, the sudden memories of your last days with him haunt you.

After spotting his old friends and ex lover in a table at the cafeteria, he start walking towards there.

“Yeah. He would’ve been seated beside me right now. But he picked the songbird before me. At least he’s refining himself a little bit with Livia” your friends turn to look at you in shock after the revelation. But you’re gone, and Coriolanus curses himself for not walking faster.

When he makes it to the table, Festus and Lysistrata are shocked, making him furrow his brows in confusion.

“Did I missed something?” He asks.

“You had an affair with your tribute?” Lysistrata asks back in disgust. Coriolanus sees Clemensia giggling in silence with her head down. Probably enjoying his embarrassment.

His silence meets the requirement for an answer. One that they take as yes.

“And now she knows about you and Livia” Coriolanus frowns ever deeper after looking at Clemensia.

“There’s no Livia and I” He responds firmly. Even disgusted to her his name along the least smart girl of his finances class.

“Oh but everyone believes so. That you’re courting her…” he rolls his eyes, annoyed.

“I’m just talking to her because we’re partner for some stupid research” the silent sipping on their drinks at the same time is ridiculous to Coriolanus. He just stares at them annoyed.

“Do me a favor and leave her alone, Coriolanus. You were gone to go to your nobody girl from 12, but I stayed and saw her struggling in that hospital bed” Clemensia speaks confidently. Making the blonde to feel threatened.

So he realises that maybe you could have feelings for him still. And that this rumors could have weight on you. He curses himself. Even without realizing, he’s still hurting you.

“I won’t lose the girl twice, Clemmie. Have a good day” he says with a fake smile before leaving the table in shock.

He had to quicken the pace of his proximity with you. He had to make you see he never stopped caring for you.

…

There’s a shattering mess of broken glasses. You quickly move away from the crime scene, looking for your pills, immediately swallowing two.

Your mother’s assistant opens the door, asking for you with concern.

“Is everything okay, miss y/n?” You turn to look a the woman.

“I accidentally threw the jar. Sorry…” Millie is in her mid thirties. She was your mother’s confidant, and slowly yours too. She sees the news paper in the floor, half of it drenched from the broken jar that had water. She can see the title, The Snow heir tights the knot with the Cardew family?

“I’ll call the maids. Don’t worry” she says looking back at you.

“Thanks Millie.” She smiles, closing the door behind.

You breathe loudly, sighing in stress. Of course you had purposely thrown the water jar because of the news paper. A portrait picture of Livia is placed perfectly aligned with one of Coriolanus. Between some paragraph there’s your name too. But you don’t dare to see why.

You may pretend to be okay to the public eye, but you’re still drowning in the same feelings you got after Coriolanus Snow revealed his lies to you.

It’s almost like if he was still mocking you. Showing everyone how easy he had played with you. And how easy he got rid of you.

Someone had to pay. No, not someone, he. He, himself, Coriolanus Snow had to fail. Only that way you would feel slightly better. Only that way your tears would stop being for him.

The first chance you had, you would take it.

…

While you loved pursuing a dancing career along the production stuff. You still had some duties regarding politics and economy. Which is why you ended up at the submissions office so early in the morning. To send a petition.

You end up at at a messy office. A man is there, moving folders and other type of papers. There’s three baskets that can clearly be read as; approved, denied, pending.

However, you quickly look away to smile at the man who’s sitting behind the chair.

“Good morning.” Your smile is contagious to everyone. The man replies with a warm greeting.

“Good morning, miss y//l/n. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you could hand me a petition form to send” he nods, standing up, leaving the mess of papers behind.

“I can, just let me go and print the form. It won’t take too long…” you smile again, letting him go outside the office.

As you wait, you start seeing the racks of boxes and more boxes filled with yellow and lined papers.

Your curiosity grows, making you look at the baskets on the desk.

You see at first glance some graduation petitions, letters, etc. You are still curious to see why some papers where pending. So you look at the door one last time before diving into the papers. You don’t know the first students mentioned. Until you see the third yellow folder, where you can see a white strip with black letter saying Coriolanus Snow.

You open the folder, seeing what it was all about. A petition to start a political campaign at the age of 19. You frowned. He was good at writing. Even with letters he had some charm. But you know he never beated you to be precise and delicate. You always heard Grandma’am saying he would one day be president. But you never seriously discussed it with him. Now you know it was real. And you can’t help but feel an enormous amount of remorse.

He doesn’t deserve it. He had lost everything once, but the way he was earning everything was through breaking you, and probably others you’ll never knew about. Even when it would make Tigris and Grandma’am happy, you slip the folder into the basket of denied. You don’t feel nothing as you do it.

In fact, you offer the sweet man a smile when he comes back with the form for you. You thank him and then walk out.

…

Coriolanus swears he didn’t intend to bump into your father at the bank. Your father was a frivolous man, but since he knew him, he greeted Coriolanus with respect.

The blonde was taken aback when he invited him to have dinner at your house. And he couldn’t say no.

Your house is the same. At least from the outside, because inside, there’s more color. Coriolanus sees your mother. And she offers him a smile before he leans to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Coriolanus, look at you. You look very handsome!” His cheeks warm, as your father giggles, handing his coat to a maid.

“I ran into him at the bank. Where’s y/n, dear?” Your mother laughs, rolling her eyes.

“That girl. I haven’t seen her out of her room since midday” the sudden sound of your heels gets noticed.

“I’m here” you say, coming down the stairs, putting some earrings on. Coriolanus notices the grey dress and black heels along the red tights. A diadem on your head and a bright smile that soon dissapears as you spot him in your house.

“Look who I found earlier” you sigh, standing straight.

“I see.” Your parents can see the way you correct your posture, showing how uncomfortable you are.

“We’re having dinner…” you ignore Coriolanus and his deep gaze on you.

“I can’t stay for dinner. I have rehearsals and I promised Clemmie to go to her birthday dinner party” they exchange looks. And Coriolanus is at the verge of smiling at the way you are making up an excuse to leave. Running away from him.

“Are you meeting with Jan before?” Coriolanus head almost pops to look at your father. And you don’t know if you should smile. Jan was your dance partner, he would dance with you at the gala. He was older, yet very handsome. And you wished he wasn’t off limits from you. Because you easily could admit your attraction towards him.

“Can you at least stay for some drinks?” You shrug at your mother, accepting your purse from a maid. You ignore Coriolanus and his way of looking at you, almost petrified.

His head was spinning, he needed to know who the hell was Jan.

“Unless you want me to do horrible at the Winter gala, no. I cannot stay, mother” she sighs, tilting her head towards your father. He understands, your father was the one who convinced you to ignore Coriolanus and play with him.

“Well, that’s fine. Just be polite and say goodbye to Coriolanus.” You nod, watching them leave inside the long corridor to enter the dinning table.

You remain quiet, looking down at your purse to avoid his eyes.

“You look lovely” he says, breaking the ice.

“Thank you.”

It’s the first time you two talk since months ago.

“I heard you want to start your political campaign” you opt to pretend you are okay and you can face him with confidence.

“I did. But the idiots of the council rejected my essay. Guess it’ll give me more time to focus on university.” You nod, grabbing a pair of gloves from inside the purse. You want to smile so badly. He would never know you were the reason of his failed first steps in the politic of Panem.

“Anyways… How you’ve been?”

��I’m fine, Coriolanus.” the way you sound tired. Like tired of him makes him uncomfortable. But he tries to keep his best smile too.

“Who is Jan?” He asks almost too seriously. You smile politely at him

“No one of your business, Snow” you calling him by his last name takes him very aback.

“You know, I just hoped that… you know. Maybe we could start off again… like friends of course” you giggle, lowering your head. He frowns confused.

“Miss y/n, Trevor is waiting in the car for you” the butler say appearing from the side door, you thank him and he leaves again.

“I don’t think there’s a way to start again. You already failed me once, Coriolanus.” You admit, putting on the gloves with a bittersweet smile on your face. You turn to pat his cheek, and he swears he’s about to melt. He lounged for your touch since the moment he left you at the hospital. He closes his eyes, hoping to slow down time and felt your cold touch.

But you move away your hand. He opens his eyes and sees you putting the last pair of the gloves on. You walk towards the door.

“You know where the dinning table room is.” And with that, you are gone.

…

Your father gave him the green light to court you again. Coriolanus had to swear that he would never cause you any type of pain, or else, your father would destroy his career before it officially started.

That was more than enough for him. Since that day, slowly, he had been greeting you almost every day, at Univeristy and when you ecountered him and Tigris in a furniture store. You personally invited her to the Winter gala, and Tigris agreed to not share the news about the invitation. But to the young Snow woman, it was a surprise that your father had already invited Coriolanus to the gala.

Soon the day came. As usual the gala opened with the performance of an specific play, than everyone celebrated in the hall with fine dining, and everyone gossiped as auctions happened. It had been a couple of weeks, very busy ones. Probably it was even more important than the arts gala on March. But for this special occasion you had rehearsed a lot to be an elegant black swan.

You smile at your own reflection at the mirror, the black tutu was gorgeous. The crown you had to use was very intriguing. And the black makeup made you feel very confident.

“I came as soon as I could” Clemensia suddenly opens the door of your dressing room. She looks agitated, but she looked amazing on a beige dress and her hair in half ponytail.

“You look very pretty” she thanks you.

“But look at you. You are going to be amazing.” She sits and both start gossiping.

“Your father invited Coriolanus.” It makes you roll your eyes tired. But you are having a heartache.

“I’m… not sure if I don’t feel anything about him” Clemmie leaves her glass of champagne.

“The newspaper rumour affected you. Right?” Slowly, you nod. Too embarrassed to look at her in the eye. But Coriolanus had been really good. He smiled at you at any chance he could. Something he would join you and your friends and he was fun, you had to bite your tongue to avoid giggling. And Clemensia had seen it too.

“I can’t blame you. I was there since the beginning…” your friend had seen the courting, the first awkward hand holding, how you two formed a strong connection. And Coriolanus left you at the hospital.

“You two had a beautiful bond. And he broke it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t miss him” Clemmie goes to hug you.

“Pa’ said to keep playing with him, to ignore him. But I’m tired, I just want to heal” she nods, letting you hide your face on her shoulder.

“You want my advice?” You nod.

“Do not force anything. Be polite to him, but avoid giving him any chance yet. As you heal, you’lo find the answer; if you should let him have another chance or not”

A man knocks. When Clemensia opens the door, he receives a bouquet of white roses.

You could recognize those roses anywhere. You get closer, taking the attached note.

Grandma’am and Tigris didn’t know what flowers to cut.

Good luck.

You try to hide your smile. But it’s impossible.

…

The whole place is full. Coriolanus takes a seat with Tigris besides.

“I talked with her yesterday. She said she was very nervous about this one” Tigris says. Coriolanus knows she’s talking about you.

“She’s always perfect, she shouldn’t feel nervous.” His mind was only thinking about Jan. He did his research. And learned he was a former dancer of your mother’s institution. It made him mad.

“Have you thought about inviting her to have dinner?” Coriolanus shakes his head.

“Not yet, I haven’t talked enough to her”

“Well, hurry up. Grandma’am wanted to see you married by the age of 20” she says laughing. But it doesn’t make Coriolanus smile.

“Oh look, it’s starting” Tigris squealed with excitement. The curtains lifted and the show started.

For the first twenty minutes, he’s so bored. Nothing exciting happens. He thinks the white swan is boring. And for the first time, he meets Jan. It makes him feel jealous.

It only worsened when you appeared on stage. Your black attire makes him go mad. He had never seen you in anything like that. He gets very invested in your scenes. He feels the emotion you are trying to project. Sassy, cheeky and attractive. You succeed to him.

Unfortunely, Jan had to appear too. And Coriolanus has to sigh, dealing with the scene of the man holding you to make you gracefully spin. The music doesn’t help, it holds the sense of you and Jan dancing together. Coriolanus knows dancing has a lot to do with acting. But he doesn’t enjoy the looks of lust and desire between you and your partner. The worst part? He had to seat and watch it for at least fifteen minutes.

His head malfunctions. But he already is telling Tigris he needs to the restroom.

It’s a lie. He goes to the dressing rooms. And his luck was so big that he found the one with the name of Jan. He slowly made his way inside. The place was so old that he didn’t need to check for security or anything, but he wanted to make sure nobody would see him in real time.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish, but surely he wanted to get rid of the man who apparently had your attention now. Your mother had said you and Jan worked very well. And now, with him seeing the performance, he was more than sure he couldn’t let it move forward.

His hand went to his pocket, and his eyes widened. He felt the little glass tubes of narcotics. The same he used to kill Casca Highbottom.

He thought about it just for a little. Was it worth it? Getting rid of a man just to have easier access to you.

Maybe.

Then he questioned how bad he wanted you back. Coriolanus had missed you since day one. He knew he would never love anyone else. He knew no one would treat him as you once did.

So he poured the liquid from one of the tubes inside the water flask resting on the vanity. And before leaving, Coriolanus slipped two more tubes inside the bag that contained Jan’s clothes.

“You took very long at the restroom” Tigris tells her cousin when he came back.

“There was a long line”

…

This time, is different. You smile and you can hear the big round of applauses as you make reverence to go off from stage. You were the last one and the curtains came down finally.

Once you are free, you have all the time in the world to breathe. Other dancers and production staff members congratulate you. But it’s Coriolanus Snow the one who makes you frown confused. He was backstage, looking at you with a soft smile. His classic black suit makes you go back and remember about the Reaping ceremony. How happy that day initiated, and how bad it turned out.

“Coriolanus.” You greet him, he can see a tiny smile on your face.

“You were amazing. As usual, of course”

“Thank you. And for the flowers, they were gorgeous. As usual, of course” he’s so surprised that you were talking to him with some humor sense. Both of you laugh and it feels… warm, and natural.

“It’s nothing. But.. perhaps we could just sit together at dinner?” Your cheeks warmth. You think about your confusing feelings, what your father and Clemensia respectively said. Sitting with him once wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Yeah, we could.” He smiles, and even when his hair changed, his deeper voice. For some seconds you can see the boy you once loved.

And he almost feels like he was seventeen again. Watching you dance backstage, ready to greet you with a kiss. He sees the girl who helped him so much. And he just know all the horrible things he’d done were worth it.

“I-…” but his words stay lingering in the air. Both of you hear a female scream. Coriolanus and you exchange looks before starting to walk where the sound was heard. In the corridor of the dressing rooms you see a woman lingering to an open door. Immediately you recognize it’s Jan’s room. You quickly make it there, through the pain of your caged foot inside the pointe shoe. Coriolanus goes behind you, already sensing the scene inside.

He hears you gasp in shock, covering your mouth and tears forming on your eyes.

You are in shock, you sob, unable to blink.

Jan is on the floor, pale and blood on his mouth. He’s dead.

And as much as the scene shocks you, you are trained to entertain the Capitol, so you turn to them random woman.

“Go and find Millie. Tell her about this and do keep your mouth shut. Nobody can know beside my parents. Understood?” You indicate the woman with a broken voice. She nods in horror dissapearing through the corridor. When she leaves you can finally cry.

When you don’t know what else to do, you are holding onto Coriolanus Snow. You find comfort on his chest. And he immediately holds you back.

As much as you hate to admit it, you feel you are home in his arms.

With one hand, he closes the door of the dressing room and returns to completely be there to hug you. He smiles, knowing he’s already slowly winning.

Because when your parents find out what happened, they make you put a cute black and green velvet gown with crystals. They make you pretend nothing happened and you sit with Coriolanus and Tigris. Ignoring the upcoming rumors, and certainly not respecting the sudden death of Jan.

…

Two days later, Coriolanus finds you seating on a bench. You are eating a sandwich, looking lost. He takes a seat beside you.

“I’m sorry about Jan. It happened so suddenly” he doesn’t feel sorry. Opposite of what he felt about Sejanus and Lucy Gray. However, he firmly believes it was the only way.

“He was a wonderful man. A devoted dancer, with principales. He had a wife in District 3.” Coriolanus coughs. He wasn’t expecting that. Something twisted inside him, but he still didn’t regret or feel sorry.

“He didn’t seem the type to use narcotics…he must’ve been very stressed out” you add. Oblivious that you are talking with Jan’s murderer.

“Are you sure you are okay?” You roll your eyes sighing.

“No. I’m not okay, Coriolanus. Not since that cursed Reaping ceremony day”

“I’m just trying to be here for you” he admits, and it’s your breaking point.

“WHY DO YOU CARE NOW? YOU FAILED ME WHEN I MOST NEEDED YOU!” He looks around to see if anyone was around. But the place is empty.

“I know I committed many errors but-“

“BUT NOTHING, CORIOLANUS.” You spit out with such anger, that makes him frown.

“You violated the trust, loyalty, respect and love we had for each other. You dissapear after making me have a damn breakdown. Only to go after that nobody girl. And now you appear trying to mend things?” You won’t tell him about his denied petition and what you did. You just want to share all you couldn’t before at his face.

“Do you know how many doctor appointments I’ve had since you left?” He looks down.

“Twelve. And I have to swallow four different pills every day. Only to stay sane. And who’s fault it is? The hunger games, the galas, dancing, Lucy Gray Baird. But specially, you” when he looks up at you again, you are crying.

“If you really want to be here for me, you need to stay away and leave me alone.” You finall state, looking at his blue eyes one last time, before standing from the bench and walking away.

That wasn’t your day. Neither the following ones. Your pointe shoes died and your size was out of stock. The food took such a long time. Your parents left to have an audience in District 1 and your evening was to listen to music and cry.

But certainly what broke you once again was a phone call.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Y/n?”

“Tigris?” You ask. Her voice sounding worried.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Is everything okay? You sound alarmed, dear” you are able to hear her sighing.

“It’s Grandma’am. She’s sick. Coriolanus is busy at the Univeristy and the doctor I requested hasn’t appeared” your heart beats faster.

“She has a strong fever and it’s been like that for hours.” She adds, finally sounding more worried.

“Tigris, calm down. I’ll call my cousin, he’s one of the most prepared doctors around. I’m going there with you in the meantime” you reassure her, already taking off your nightgown and taking out a dress and coat from your closet.

“Thank you, y/n. I truly appreciate this, thanks you.” You hang up after saying everything was going to be okay.

…

You see how changed is the penthouse. Fully renovated, with bright lights that contrasted the dark blue wallpapers. But you find interesting how the olive paint you brought is still there. And your portrait from the day of your eighteen birthday is still with the family pictures.

You wait outside the room of the elder woman, as your cousin is checking Grandma’am. You have to hold the urge from biting your nails. A maid offers you posca, but you can’t think about drinking at the time.

The front doors opens and seconds later, Coriolanus is there. He seems surprised to see you there. Since the day of your argument, he hadn’t see you. He tried calling you but your butler said you were out for the weekend to your grandparents house.

“Y/n?” He asks, dropping his coat on a chair.

“Tigris called me. She wanted a doctor for your grandmother” he worried a bit.

“Is she not feeling better. When I left she seemed better…” he says hurrying to go to her room, but you stop him, grabbing by his forearm.

“Don’t. My cousin is already there with her. I’m waiting for the results” Coriolanus only stares at you. He wants to smile. You came only to help his family once again.

“You look very lovely” you smirk, looking at his window with your arms crossed.

“Really? Your grandmother is sick and you are here saying how lovely I look today?” He smiles.

“You told me to wait. What else can I do?”

“How cynical of you” you respond coldly. After all you told him, he was acting like it never happened.

The door of the room opened and Tigris came out with your cousin.

He revealed Grandma’am was having a little difficulties in her lungs, which made her prone to catch a flu. He gave her some strong medicines and promised it would be fine with some days of resting.

After some minutes, you are also ready to leave.

You say good night to the Snow cousins and leave.

“Y/n. Wait…” Tigris comes out. Stopping you some feet away of the now working elevator.

“I-… Thank you.” She slowly says hugging you.

“It’s nothing, Tigris. I told Coriolanus once I would always help the people I love” Tigris suddenly feels so sad to hear you say that. She really hoped you and her little cousin had a different ending.

“He still loves you so much.” You fight harder against the tears when she says that.

“I know. And I still love him too. But… he never apologized. And I’m not ready to let go my resentment towards him.” You admit looking away.

“Although things did’t work out for you and Coriolanus, I really appreciate and care for you, y/n” se almost whispers in your ear. And your eyes water.

“I feel the same, Tigris. I really do” you reply slowly, controlling your voice to not sound cracked.

“I’ll come back in some days” she nods.

She lets you go and you finally head out. Not noticing that Coriolanus heard everything.

He never apologized.

That night, you are reading on the living room when your butler walks in.

“Coriolanus Snow is asking for you in the telephone” you thank him, walking bare feet towards the kitchen telephone.

“Yes, Mr. Snow?” You ask.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming today. You didn’t have to and yet you appeared here” you sigh.

“Whatever that happened between us has nothing to do with my relationship with Tigris and your mother” now he sighs, from his office, in complete darkness.

“About that y/n…” your hands go numb, and panic floods you.

“You don’t know how much I’m-“

“I know.” You interrupt him, cracked voice and you hang up.

“Sorry” he says through the dead line.

That night, you read his letters. The ones he sent when he was a peacekeeper at the 12. Where he seemed to have projected his more vulnerable and emotional side of his heart. Maybe he had been drunk, maybe Lucy Gray wrote them for him. You’d never know, and you preferred to ignore the idea of him actually feeling sorry.

…

A week later you’re applauding for Grandma’am as she sings for you. You smile, changing her pillow case and complementing how much of a sweet voice she had.

It’s getting late, and you must return to your house.

After wishing Grandma’am sweet dreams, you carefully close her door and you walk with the old pillow case away.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Tigris asks with a sweet smile, taking the pillow case from you. Coriolanus is seated, drinking something as he carefully looks at you. You ignore him.

“I must decline, dear. I have to go back and pack some things” she frowns, stopping to put some places on the dinning table.

“Pack?”

“Yes. I think I’ll spend the holidays at District 1. My mother is opening a new studio and she’s going to need help. And well, if everything goes right, I might even stay there” Tigris almost drops the pillow case. And Coriolanus almost chokes on his drink.

“What? Why?. What about university? The galas? Your production job for the hunger games” you shrug with an honest smile.

“Lately the Capitol life has... it has been a burden. I want to live a peaceful life. I want to heal” Tigris sends daggers with her eyes to Coriolanus. He coughs, uncomfortable.

“CORIOLANUS!” Grandma’am calls the man. And slowly, he stands up to to the woman. He hears you stay talking with Tigris. And he wants to do something to stop you from leaving. Now he can give you the life he couldn’t before.

“Is everything alright, Grandma’am?” The elder woman looks at him from her bed.

“Are you really letting that young woman to walk away again?” Coriolanus frowns.

“What?”

“You’ve heard me.” Even in her sick days, she was firm.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Grandma’am shrugs.

“I don’t think so. Her eyes shine sadly at every mention of you. She was part of the family after all.” Coriolanus remains quiet. But he admits to himself that’s what he missed the most.

“I think she always waited for an apology. One that never came.” His heart pounds very fast. He tried, and you hung up.

“What do you suggest me to do?” Grandma’am smiles, coughing tiredly.

“You run to wherever she goes and beg on your knees. One time you show her vulnerability and you’ll never do it again”

“You already won the money and respect. You’re just missing out the girl” Coriolanus sweats, but when he turns to look at her grandmother again, she nods, reassuring him.

“Go. Get her back, Coriolanus” without saying anything back, he leaves.

When he enters the dinning room, he only sees two plates of food. He looks at Tigris confused.

“Where’s y/n?” She shrugs, taking a seat.

“She just left.”

Coriolanus runs. He actually runs out of his penthouse and when the elevator starts taking to much time, he decided to choose the stairs as his getaway. He feels sweaty and agitated, but as he goes down, he can’t help but feel slightly happy, the adrenaline of making it on time make him hurry.

“Y/N!” He yells your name once he makes it to the lobby, where he can see you turning back to see him.

You are waiting for Trevor when he appears running towards you.

And before you can even blink or breathe, he gets on his knees.

“Coriolanus Snow. What are you doing?” You ask confused and blushed.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“I’m sorry about all the stupid things I did. I’m sorry about letting you down. I’m sorry for ruining our relationship. For letting you in that hospital bed and return to do everyhting but apologize to you” you look at him perplexed, not believing his words.

“I can’t lose you again. Because I know you’re the last person I’ll love. I won’t trust anyone else. And nobody would have ever looked down at me like you did when I had nothing” you sigh, feeling the tears coming again. You know he’s not lying. You knew him so well that you sense it.

“If you let me. To give me another chance. I’ll do things right. I will never fail you again in life. You’ll be the only person I’ll cherish and show love.” He offers you his hand, and he looks very suppliant.

You blink quickly to soothe the tears. And you know he doesnt deserve you. But aren’t the best person, so maybe you two were actually meant to be together.and that’s the only viable reason to why you want to let your heart freely beat for him again.

“Please don’t go, y/n” he whispers, waiting for your answer. You sigh, slowly and shaking, but you end up taking his hand.

“You’ll better be the most perfect lover of the history of Panem, then” he wraps your fingers together, and stands up.

“I promise, I swear” he knows the memory of Lucy Gray would always follow him. As well of all the deaths he had caused. But nothing compared to the joy of him kissing you again.

Your lips welcome him in the most sweet way. And he finds himself smiling through the kiss, gently holding you closer to him.

It’s in the start of the Road of Hope in the Capitol where Coriolanus Snow had his fully owned penthouse. Where he had nothing, and now had won everything.

…

Time flies, things had changed, probably for the better. You made Coriolanus keep fighting for a good and healthy relationship. Slowly, he made you completely fall in love again. And although there was certain spark missing, you knew it would never come back. However, you had also accepted that both of you had grown up.

The late talks were mature now. Talking about the future of Panem, planning dinners together. The kisses were more passionate, unlike the softness that was all over your early relationship. The sex was harder rather than slow and sweet like the beginning. Coriolanus would like to leave many hickeys scattered across your body, make a wet mess of saliva and fluids. He loved feelings your almond nails leave gentle scratches across his pale back.

But certainly, the biggest change was the way you two were handling a life together.

After turning twenty, you got married. Soon Coriolanus bought the house he always wished to give you. The one with black and white tiles floor, beige walls and big stairs.

By the first week in, he had done many refurbishments and he had fucked you in every room, every corner and every surface of the house.

Till the day you turned twenty-two. By that time, you had almost ditched your dancing career. Sometimes you still had some chances to perform on galas. But Coriolanus convinced you to focus on public services and the production of the hunger games. Dr. Gaul had officially retired, and it was going to be the first year of Coriolanus as a game maker. Things had really changed.

But everything seemed fine.

“Dear, Are you ready?” You turn to look at your husband, who waits on the frame of the door.

“Just one moment” you run to slip into your silver heels before grabbing your purse.

Trevor kept his job as your chauffeur and Millie was now your private secretary. Sometimes you hated how formal your life had become. Especially now that Coriolanus had some plans in mind.

As soon as you arrive to the fancy patio from a million-dollar man house, many women eye you and Coriolanus.

“Remind me what are we doing here?” You ask him. He holds your hand tightly, smiling at many of the invited people.

“I’m assuming the role of game maker. You are giving a speech about the improvements for the 14th Hunger Games, my dear” you nod, clutching onto his cold hand harder. Both of you were kind of the sensation around the Capitol. You know how they whisper about your dress and your husband’s physic.

“You’re going to be fine. You always choose the right words. And your voice can charm anyone here” he whispers on your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank goddess I’ve been studying the constitution. Or else these men would bury me” Coriolanus laughs. Soon you enter the actual event. With long white tables, candles and everyone dressed either on red or black.

“Men around here don’t know how smart my wife is” he says shrugging, remembering how many honors you received from university. Some of the wives ask you to join them. You wave hello to them before leaning to your man.

“Do not make me jealous or leave me alone during the speech.” You firmly say to him.

“Of course not, my love”

“Love you.” And with one last kiss, you walk away.

For the rest of the night. You feel uneasy. Because you succeeded with the speech. But once you read the part from Coriolanus, you are at the verge of babbling.

He shared some of his initial proposals for the games. Like lowering the age of the tributes, increasing the obstacles in the arena, using more mutts, allowing weapons, and making the interviews with Lucky Flickerman longer.

It had been a long time since you think about the games so much. But that guilt you felt after seeing Coriolanus as mentor, never left. And after that dinner, everyone claps for your husband and you, after being considered as the couple of the next generation for Panem.

In the privacy of your new home, you constantly zone out to think about it. You can’t ask Coriolanus to stop the games, but he could make some changes.

You knock swiftly on his door.

“Come in.” You walk in and he drops the papers he was signing to smile at the sight of you.

“Hello, you.” he says cheekily.

“Hello, you’.” You reply. He indicates you to seat on his lap and you do so. His arms lock around you, hands resting on your back.

“Are you coming to bed anytime soon?” You ask.

“I just need to sign some things, darling” he watches you frown, and he won’t say you look older, because you don’t. But you certainly look wiser, mature and more like a woman rather than a girl.

“I’ve been thinking about the games” He’s all ears now. He knows you had some specific opinions. You had said in your first interview how brutal the games were.

“What about them?”

“I would never ask you to stop the games. But…” you stop, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“But what, my dear?”

“Don’t you think those tributes are humans? Yes, the Districts deserve to be reminded of the consequences of their acts. But most of the tributes are kids. Who don’t even understand everything that conveys a war.” Coriolanus sighs, trying to choose the correct words to answer you.

“What are you suggesting?” He tries to sound calm, but the mere subject makes him a little irritated.

“I don’t know… Maybe giving them more opportunities?” He giggles, caressing the skin on your hips.

“Giving them opportunities means going soft on them. And going soft on them could trigger a new rebellion” this time you sigh, trying to persuade him by brushing his hair, softly grasping his chin.

“Not like that, Coryo. I mean… raising the majority age of the tributes. Giving them at least the chance to train. To eat a proper meal on the last night. To show who they are one last time before they’re sent to die” Coriolanus would always believe that you’re only one weakness was your humanity. How you always turned to see down on others, feeling guilty from being born with all the commodities.

So, he tries to ignore it. He tries to see your suggestions as a way to punish the tributes harder. Give them everything to then killing them.

So, he smiles, urging you to kiss him. You reply immediately, holding him closer to feel the heated proximity.

“I could arrange some changes. Would that make you feel better?” You nod on his lips, smiling.

“Now let me finish this before meeting you in bed. And I expect you have this thing off before I get there” he says grabbing your nightgown. You laugh with a potent blush, gently pushing him away.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not being silly. In two days, we start the tour, we will be very tired to make love daily as we do now” you roll your eyes, almost running away ad your husband laughs, making fun of your embarrassment.

“This is madness. I’m going to bed” you say getting out of his office.

“Don’t forget about what I said!” He yells, making you smile in love as you leave upstairs, wishing good night to the maids and butler. For the record, you do not forget about your husband’s petition.

…

The best part of the house is the rooftop in your opinion. A terrace with cristal walls and ceilings that had a gorgeous view of the Capitol. A view that included some monuments and the snowy mountains surrounding the city.

You had a little bar there, an eccentric dining table and some couches with colorful cushions.

Grandma’am made you take some of his roses so you could start your own garden. That brought tears to your eyes. But now, it was only you and Tigris there.

You asked the chef to make some vegetables and creams as your sister-in-law arrived for dinner. Coriolanus and you were set to leave the next morning for his political campaign tour.

“Have you packed everything?” Tigris asks.

“Yes. I wish I could take Trevor with me. But only Millie will be able to come” you say smiling. Tigris notices how you constantly look at the door, hoping to see Coriolanus entering.

“Have you told him?” You shake your head at the woman.

“Not yet. Probably by the time we arrive District 4. We have good memories from there” Tigris smiles. She was really excited when you got back together with Coriolanus. She even made your wedding dress. And now she was so proud of the career you two were making.

“Sorry for the delay. I was arguing with some incompetent who cancelled the delivery of our new chandeliers” Tigris rolls her eyes as your husband cheekily smiles.

“Dinner isn’t ready yet anyways” you say patting his back as he takes a seat beside you.

“You shouldn’t be stressing over the tour. Your dear wife must’ve prepared the most wonderful speeches for you to say” Coriolanus smiles, turning to give you a peck on the nose, making you laugh.

“It’s not that, Tigris. It’s the time that’s freaking me out. I don’t want to be gone for almost two months.” You sigh, trying to keep everything together. You just pray that the tour goes smoothly.

“Each district will host you with all commodities” it’s a lie. Coriolanus isn’t ready to go to District 12 again. Where his father died, where he committed the worst decisions of his early life. He knows those days will be a little sour. But he’s willing to play pretend very well for you.

“It’s going to be fine. Pardon me, dart” Coriolanus says after seeing your face of over thinking. His wife is so smart that she’s probably wondering the same as him. And that’s the least he needs of.

You take his hand, before hearing the food has arrived. The air changes, the dinner flows happily as you talk and gossip with Tigris and your husband. It’s a great dinner actually.

Maybe he broke your heart when you were teenagers. But you delayed his political campaign for four years. Maybe he had looked too much at Lucy Gray Baird, but at the end it would only be you.

You could’ve done better to get rid of that guilt for participating in the hunger games, but you just realize that maybe you didn’t because you are not a good person either.

Even so, every morning, you wake up in his arms as he fulfilled his promise of never failing you again.

You just hope that the tour, the upcoming games and everything else doesn’t get into your way. Nothing can be a bother. Not when Coriolanus Snow’s first child rests peacefully in your womb.

The future was uncertain. But your past and present along him always seemed like… a hatred road.

_____________________________________________

fyi, in my head, if reader hadn’t delayed Coriolanus political emergence, the second rebellion would’ve started earlier and probably it wouldn’t have been successful. (Basically it would’ve been like a second time “dark days” situation and then back to reconstruction again)

Taglist: @dear-bunnyboo @daydreamerprocrastinator @lecrercsgirlshhs @athanasia-day @devils-blackrose @reader-bookling123 @cookielovesbook-akie @justacaliforniandreamer @m1ndbrand @blairfox04 @darktrashsoulbear @fartybobabutt @diannana @iwantosleep @sarysuniverse @unclecrunkle @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @didneyworld13 @imguce @angelscrime @impeterporker @lem122 @cryaka @ietss @michelleisheres-blog @capsiclesworldsblog @circe143

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #corio snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas

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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months

Note

Hey! So I had this Hurt comfort fic idea with Charles where she is engaged to him. Have you seen the video about the crowd in Montreal surrounding him? So something like them arriving and he's signing and clicking pics through the crowd holding her hand and the crowd and paps goes a bit haywire and she is separated and then visibly very hurt and injured because of that. And Charles is angry and protective, with the "Idc about myself but if anyone touches/hurts you I lose it" or something similar. Add drama and spice as you feel

Thank you Babe ❤️

A Step Too Far || CL16

Warnings: fluff, angst, implied smut WC: 1.9k

Charles could remember the first time he met your father. Obviously it wasn’t the first first time but it was the first time as your boyfriend, and that made it more important than any of the times they met in the paddock. Toto had gripped his hand tightly as they shook, pulling the younger driver closer to whisper in his ear.

“That’s my daughter, Charles, you put her above all else. It’s my job to protect her, and I’m trusting you here.”

“I understand, sir. I’ll keep her safe.”

“What did he say?” you asked as you left for your date.

“Nothing, ma chérie,” Charles assured you with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.

For three years he had kept that secret promise religiously, even as his popularity grew beyond his wildest expectations. He couldn’t walk down the street without being recognised, crowds gathering and people asking for photos or signatures. It wasn’t exactly new for you having grown up the way you did, but Charles’ fans were far more excitable and passionate than the ones who met your father.

Monza 2023

Everywhere you looked it was a sea of red supporters, the tifosi out in force to celebrate the third and fourth places Ferrari had taken in the race. You could see the equal parts of pride and disappointment on Charles’ face as he watched Carlos take the third step on the podium.

After heading back to his driver room, he collapsed into a chair with a groan and hung his head in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, wrinkling your nose at the sweat that dampened his dark hair. “That was a hell of a fight, baby.”

His grunt told you he thought otherwise but he placed his hand over yours and gave it a soft squeeze. “I almost had it, amour.”

“I know.” You nuzzled into his neck until his shoulders bunched up and he wriggled with a laugh at his ticklish spot.

“Okay, okay, no more moping,” he said as he stood up and turned to face you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You held up your hand that had a sparkly new ring resting upon it. “Or I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“I’m very glad you did.” He smiled as he took your hand and kissed the engagement ring. “I need to shower. There’s room for one more…”

Charles kept you tucked close to his side as he made his way through the lines of fans to where his car was pulling up. You were running late once again, after being distracted while you were meant to be getting dressed to go out for dinner. He left your side for only a moment to open your door but that moment was all it took as the metal barriers separating the crowd came crashing down and they surged forward.

The sight and the sound gave you a fright and you stepped back instinctively. “Charles!” He turned at your panicked tone and watched with horror as your heeled foot missed the curb, twisting painfully as you fell. For a second he lost sight of you in the sea of red and he was spurred into action.

“Back up! Get out of my way!” he shouted to the crowd as he pushed his way to you. Rage filled him as he found you crumpled beside his car, arms wrapped protectively around your head while the bodies finally started to give you room. Tears blurred your vision as pain radiated from your ankle and suddenly you were weightless as a familiar pair of arms picked you up. “Amour, are you hurt?”

You could hardly hear him as the crowd demanded his attention, screaming as they waved hats and posters in his direction. The look he sent them should have been warning enough but they were too high on his presence to notice.

“Amour?”

“My ankle,” you admitted with a wince as it was jostled.

He released a torrent of expletives under his breath as he carried you to the driver’s seat and climbed in with you on his lap, your legs hanging over onto the passenger seat. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he apologised as he kissed your temple and pulled out of the hotel.

“It’s not your fault, Charles, I should have been paying more attention.”

“You got hurt because of me, that’s the only reason they were there. Shit.” His eyes darted to the centre screen as it announced an incoming call from Toto and he hit the accept button on the steering wheel.

“You haven’t lost your watch again, have you?” Toto greeted, his voice thick with amusement.

“We are almost there,” he replied as he turned onto the street where the restaurant reservation was booked. “We just ran into some trouble with some fans.”

The silence was deafening until it was broken by the scratch of a chair being pushed back on a wooden floor followed by the click of your father’s footsteps. “Trouble?”

You watched the door to the restaurant open and your father ignored the concierge as he stepped to the curb Charles was pulling up to. “This should be fun.” Charles grimaced at your words and ended the call as Toto tucked his phone away and opened the passenger door.

Toto stared at the empty seat before dragging his eyes across the space to find you on your fiancé’s lap. “Hi papa.”

“Don’t hi me,” he tutted as he walked around and moved the valet along with a wave of his hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you assured him as you accepted his hand out of the sports car. “You two are as dramatic as each other.”

The flare of pain was sudden and impossible to hide when your shoe touched the pavement, the joint weakly giving underneath you. If not for Charles behind you it would have been much worse but he took your weight and kept you upright.

“What the fuck have you done to my daughter, Leclerc?” You found yourself in a tug of war, but you were the rope. Your father tried to pull you out of his arms but your yelp of pain froze the very air. He relinquished his fight and raised his hands before pointing a damning finger at Charles. “Hospital, now.”

“But I’m hungry,” you whined as he instantly moved to follow the order, stepping back towards the Ferrari. “Can’t we go after dinner, please?”

You turned your pleading eyes to your father and watched his resolve weaken.

“No,” Charles interrupted before Toto could agree and you turned to him with a look of betrayal. “Don’t look at me like that, amour. I can’t bear to see you in pain, especially when it’s my fault.”

“At least you take ownership,” Toto muttered. “Susie and I will bring you dinner. Go.”

There was no room to argue, not that Charles would. He respected your father too much for that.

“You need to make a statement,” Toto said tiredly as he sat in the hospital chair opposite Charles. You were on the bed separating them, enjoying the lack of pain while the drugs did their job and waiting for the moonboot to be fitted. “Something like this cannot be allowed to happen again.”

“He didn’t exactly give them permission, papa.”

Charles cut you a look out the corner of his eye before nodding to Toto. “I’ll make sure of it, sir. It might be time to hire some security.”

Your father barely hid his scoff as he muttered, “Better late than never.” Toto sat up straighter and rubbed his tired eyes. “These are things you will need to think about even more in the future, especially when you have children of your own - you’ll realise you can’t wait until something bad happens before making changes. You need to start thinking about the future now, son.”

Charles’ stare turned out the window as he took the advice seriously. You could see the contemplation set in hard lines across his face. The look turned sad when the nurse arrived with the moonboot you would need to wear for at least two weeks and he started to withdraw into himself as he pulled his phone out. Only a few moments later you saw your phone light up with a notification that he had posted to his Instagram.

“Good man,” Toto said as he read the statement that in no uncertain terms warned his fans there would be consequences if they couldn’t respect the boundaries set.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Yes,” they both answered adamantly.

“You are all set to go, darling,” the nurse said with a soft smile. “Rest up, and if there are any concerns just come right back.”

After thanking her you hobbled along, sandwiched between your father and fiancé, to the underground car park where the car was waiting.

“I’ll come back to your hotel, make sure you get inside safely,” your father said as he opened your door and kissed your cheek.

“His fans have probably all run away by now.”

“I think you’re underestimating the tifosi. I’d rather not take the risk.”

Toto was right, because if anything there were even more fans lining the entrance to the hotel than before. Only this time there was also more security.

You were quickly ushered through to the quieter reception area where Toto shared a look that said ‘I told you so’ before bidding a goodnight and heading his own way back. The elevator ride to the penthouse suite was silent and it wasn’t the comfortable silence you were used to. It grew heavier with each level and you were itching to get out of the confined space by the time the doors opened.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered as Charles pulled his shirt off and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I broke my promise,” he said as his shoulders sagged further, like he was moments from imploding on himself. “I swore to your father I would protect you.”

“Charles, I love you, but you can’t protect me from the world - no matter what my father thinks.” You crawled over the duvet and onto his lap so you could cup his face. “I don’t blame you and it is me who is going to be marrying you, not him.”

His brows pinched together. “I hadn’t even thought about children.”

“What?”

“After the wedding, having children - what that would be like in this environment. I hadn’t thought about it. I obviously knew it’s what I wanted for us down the line but now…it’s a little scary to think what might happen to them.”

“Char, there’s no rush. We don’t know what our future will look like in five years, or ten.” You stroked his cheeks and dipped your head forward to kiss his pouting lips. “Just focus on the here and now, baby. Forget what happened out there. In here, it’s just you and me, and a king sized bed that’s far too neatly made.”

“It is pretty neat.”

“So why don’t we mess it up?”

His eyes flicked to your legs draped over his, lingering on the bulky boot. “Amour?”

Your fingers were already running down his chest, reaching for the waistband of his trousers he had worn to dinner. “You won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

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yuqiyu · 1 year

Text

Guitar Lessons (Eddie Munson x F!Reader)

♡ part 2

Summary: During one of your hangouts at Eddie's trailer, he offers to give you some guitar lessons.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: NSFW, sexual content, cunnilingus, face riding, making out, eating out, fluff, friends to lovers (kinda), slight angst, dramatic reader, no use of y/n

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“How long have you played?” you ask as you graze your fingers over the body of the guitar. It’s smooth and cold, the design fitting right in with Eddie’s aesthetic.

He’s looking at you cutely, leaning back on his forearms against the bed. There’s a sparkle in his doe eyes as he shifts a bit.

“So I see you’ve met the lady of the house,” he says, a slight lilt to his voice. “Go on, take her down.”

As you carefully step over a messy pile of cassette tapes beside another pile of clothes, Eddie makes a grabbing motion and mumbles a That’s right, come to papa. You stifle a laugh, releasing a snort in the process. He shoots a look at you, fully defensive.

Once the guitar (or the love of his life, as he’d say) is in his hands, it fits perfectly like a puzzle piece on his body. His neck is slightly craned over it. You think he’s looking at the strings, but as you move closer, his eyes are closed.

He starts plucking out a couple chords, a sweet melody completely contradicting the visuals you are being fed. You begin to close your eyes as well, allowing the music to flow through the both of you. It sounds beautiful despite not being hooked up to an amp.

It has been only a couple of months since you first met Eddie in the hallway between classes. You recall a head full of messy curls hanging over what you thought were interesting choices in an outfit. Girls were avoiding him left and right as he picked up the remnants of his stuff off the ground after a couple jocks had so kindly knocked them out of his hands.

When you had picked up a notebook that had fallen behind him, a few loose papers with unfamiliar charts and symbols fell out. You plucked them up for a closer study.

“Just getting ready for the Satanic rituals this Thursday,” he mused. You looked up in surprise.

He was a very pretty man, his hair framing his slim face surprisingly well. His large eyes bore into you, and you swore you could get lost in the dark abyss behind them.

“What?”

“Sorry, bad joke.” He looked at you sheepishly, then to the notebook in your hands.

“Right, sorry.” Even after you quickly handed it back to him, he continued staring at you, amused.

“Are you new?”

You shuffled your feet, feeling even more awkward than you already were.

“Yeah.” And the rest was history.

You open your eyes when the music stops. Eddie is staring at you with a crooked grin, inches away from your face.

“Jeez, you’re so creepy,” you laugh as you push him off. Ever the drama queen he is, he falls backward onto the bed limply, the guitar following suit. His hands are clutched over his heart as his face fakes a wounded expression.

“I just gave you the best serenade you will ever hear in your life, and this is how you repay me?” He all but shrieks at you as you continue slapping at his arm.

“ Ever? That’s such a loaded statement, Eddie. You haven’t even answered my question.”

He jumps back up, then pauses for a beat. “I don’t know, my whole life I guess,” he shrugs.

You stare back at the guitar, still being held snugly in his arms. There was no way to stop the idea of you being there instead, but you shake yourself out of it.

“That’s pretty cool, though. I don’t know how to play any instruments.” You copy his pose from earlier, supporting yourself up by your forearms. He twists his neck towards you, that beautiful damn smile beaming a hundred miles per hour your way.

“Really,” he questions, dragging out the word playfully. “How about I, the greatest guitarist ever, teach you some new things.”

“Again, such a loaded statement, but okay. Hit me.”

The next hour or so is not exactly what you were expecting. He has an old acoustic guitar hiding somewhere in his closet (which he searches for with difficulty, under more piles of items) and has you test the waters on it. With the pleasant surprise of Eddie literally wrapping your back with his arms, moving your fingers to the right formations, you are basically floating on cloud nine.

He is a demonstrations type of guy, not an I-will-show-you-first-then-you-play kind of way, but in an I-will-wrap-my-gorgeous-hands-around-yours kind of way. This shouldn’t have shocked you, ever since he cupped his hands over yours just to help you roll some dice when you hesitated during a campaign, at least. You often took sneaky glances at his fingers after that day, how could you help it? The day he finds out about your secret hand fetish will be the day you change your identity, because not only would it feed his already inflated ego, he would never let you live it down. He already has so much ammo against you, and you dread that only one more will put you six feet under.

Eddie was exceedingly patient with you in teaching the strings and the chords, even though you had trouble memorizing where to place your fingers. You wish you could say the same about previous teachers, who were truly wicked demons compared to him.

You let yourself falter and lean backwards, just enough for Eddie to notice. He suddenly peels your fingers off the instrument and gives little kisses to them.

You yank your hand back in surprise and squeak out, “Eddie!”

His stupid antics always make it hard for you not to fall for him. It sometimes feels like he does it on purpose, like he means to fuel your feelings even more.

“Just thought they needed some healing kissies ,” he replies, his pitch increasing at the end to mock you.

“Kissies are only for couples,” you snapped, unable to process anything but the imprint of his soft lips on your hands. You hope you don’t look as dazed as you feel right now.

He simply ignores you and strokes the neck of the guitar, still wrapped comfortably around you. “You’re a natural at this, y’know? Maybe you should get some real lessons.”

“Yeah, right. It sure doesn’t feel like it.” You give your hands a good shake, loosening all the muscles as you sighed in relief. Dark, red lines were etched deep into your fingertips. Looking at them only made the pain feel even more real.

He grabs them again, gripping them tightly. “Hey—hey, careful! These hands have unknown potential! You could be a god with these.”

“‘Thought you said you were the best out there,” you smile, nudging him in the ribs. He feigns offense.

“I am, but if there’s gonna be someone better out there, I’d rather it be you!”

You can only roll your eyes at him as he drops his chin on your shoulder. He must be bored out of his mind right now, so you push for a new topic.

“Why are you being so touchy today,” you tease, turning to look at his face. It is much easier now to admire his features now that he is sitting so close to you. His eyes are glazed over. “Wait a minute—were you high this whole time?”

He gives you a guilty look.

You aren’t sure if you should be impressed that he was able to teach you so well under the influence, or if you should be disappointed. His affections to you often occurred under one and only one circumstance, and that was when he was ridiculously high. He must’ve smoked more than usual. The thought hits you like a crushing weight, smashing through your heart and sinking down to your stomach in just under five seconds. You want to throw your head into your palms and cringe at how hopeful you were, even though you’re already used to the reality of this godforsaken friendship. But then the sinking feeling falls even deeper into your pit when you realized something might’ve happened to make him reach for his stash like this.

“Did something happen today?” You don’t mean to probe, but even stoner Eddie has his limits for most of the time. Sometimes the overcompensation is a little too obvious, even for your obliviousness.

His head is still lolling on your shoulder, though this time there’s a faraway look in his eyes. There’s a silence that hangs thick for what felt like forever, until you feel his chin shift, trying to find a more comfortable spot to sulk in.

“Don’t tell me it’s girl troubles,” you huff out. The thought of it already has the heat rising to your cheeks. It’s one thing to have an unrequited crush, but to see said crush pining for another person was simply soul-crushing.

He must notice your expression, because he looks at you amusingly. “Why? Would you be jealous?”

When you shoot him a deadly look, he only giggles and reassures you. You’ve heard this speech about a million times already: you’re his best girl-friend and no one can ever beat you. To be honest, it’s hard to be beat when you’re his only girl-friend, but hey, it’s still a win. If he has to constantly remind you, though, maybe you’re being too obvious. You remind yourself to tone it down around him.

Eddie suddenly jumps off the bed with renewed vigor and swipes the guitar from your arms before laying it carefully somewhere in the closet, then plops back down beside you. His face is serious, the playful energy lasting only for a few seconds.

You ease yourself down slowly, lying on your side as you soak in the sight before you. His arms are tucked under his head, ankles crossed at the edge of the bed.

“I only ask because I—”

“ Because you care. I know.”

You give him a minute. There are only the sounds of your breaths mingling with each other, and if you relaxed enough, you swear you’d be able to hear his heartbeat. You’d usually miss the peace you had prior to meeting Eddie, but now, when there is no sound of his annoying voice or music or anything , it makes you nervous. Because a vulnerable Eddie is a sad Eddie. There was no easy way to learn this.

“I heard you went on a date with Harrington,” he starts. His hands fly in the air as he continues. You can’t help but stare at the glint his rings give off in the different angles. “Went to the mall and everything.”

It’s your turn to look amused. When he catches it, he presses a finger to your lips, which only causes you to snicker. “How could you ignore me for some jock. Is that why you didn’t pick up my calls that day?” He has such an intense expression, backed up by the furrowing of his brows now hiding under his bangs. He seems so distressed, although you can’t help but smile at him in silence.

“Is that all you have to say to me?” He’s practically begging for response at this point.

“First of all, Munson,” you emphasize as he winces at the demotion of his name. It was easy to tell when you don’t feel like humoring him. Ever since the beginning, it had always been Eddie . When you had tried calling him anything else, it just didn’t feel right in those moments. And it still doesn’t. “It wasn’t a date. It was a double date!”

His jaw drops as he rubs a hand over his face, having expected you to at least try to comfort him, like you usually would. It was shameful, honestly, the way you would scramble to mend his sorrow every single time. You pause for a second, letting the moment really sink in before continuing again. This is payback , you thought. “It was Nancy, Steve, Robin, and me. It wasn’t really a date, Eddie. I don’t know why you’d even care.”

There’s a slight quiver in your voice when you articulate the last line, but you hope he doesn’t notice. However, it seems like that’s the only thing he noticed.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, missy, but I care a whole lot when my only friend in the whole wide world goes missing when I need her most.” The glazed look in his eyes hasn’t faded, but the seriousness is still there. You almost wish you aren’t still having this conversation because it only breaks your heart further the more he opens his goddamn mouth about friendship this, friendship that. But your love and concern for him overshadows it all, and you want to smack yourself over the head for that.

You take a deep breath, inhaling all the different scents of Eddie (if that was even humanly possible) and ponder your thoughts. You like to do it because It keeps him on his toes, you remember, as if he’s always hanging onto your every word, inching closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.

You allow your eyes to wander across his walls, taking in the various band posters, and then back onto the guitar. It’s so easy to get sidetracked in the confines of anything related to him, but the more you learn about him, the more you realize he’s just a huge dork who plays fantasy games and the guitar in his free time. He does a great job at keeping the air of mystery around him, though, and you wonder if people actually realized who he truly was, maybe they’d bully him a tiny bit less. That is, if they weren’t so scared of being sacrificed by him. He shakes you out of your conscious slumber with a couple snaps of his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey—are you even listening to me?”

His hand continues waving in your face for a few more seconds before you swat it away. You’re looking at him with as much sincerity as you could possibly muster. He’s doing the same, though you notice the way the corners of his mouth tug down, like how they usually do whenever you reject one of his hugs.

“Can I level with you?” you ask.

He looks at you strangely, eyebrows raise in question. There’s some clarity to his eyes now, and you feel yourself getting sucked in temporarily. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps thickly. He nods.

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about your love life and who you choose to date, so why should you? ” The words come out with more venom than you mean to, but you couldn’t—no, wouldn’t , take back what you said. Even though you’re lying, it feels good knowing that he at least doesn’t know you have a massive one-sided crush on him. It gives the illusion that you’re in control, and you’d like to keep it that way.

Eddie’s features soften. He looks so hurt, and you can’t bear to look at him for more than two seconds. The room is silent again, though it’s lacking the comfort that usually comes with it. You slowly sit up, and start grabbing your things. Before you leave, he pulls your wrist back. His eyes are pleading.

“It’s still early,” he begins. “If you want to stay longer.” You look sparingly at his face, mostly darting to his bedsheets or the walls. His grip tightens.

“I—um, I’ve got some overdue homework I need to work on.”

He knows you well enough to know that if there was one person he knew that always had their shit together and done on time, it was you. But he lets go, and your heart stumbles because if he had asked you one more time, you would’ve stayed. You guess some things are just not written in the stars, and tonight was one of those things.

He only purses his lips and exhales, “Alright.”

He doesn’t walk you out the door today.

The next time you see him ends up being the following night. He had called the morning of, asking if you wanted to come over for more “guitar lessons.” When you didn’t reply quickly enough for his liking, he simply said, “See you at eight. Sharp, okay, sweetheart?”

Your heart twinges, so you agree.

Eight sneaks up on you before you know it. The night air engulfs you as you rap your knuckles against the Munsons’ trailer door. It rattles violently, so you stop, fearing that one more would completely knock it off the hinges. You hear a familiar voice ring out, welcoming you in.

When you’re inside, you spot Eddie running around chaotically in the small kitchen. Various snacks are being crushed by his arms clutching them close to his chest, and he nearly slams into a table (not without cursing) while tossing them over onto the couch.

He finally sits down among the mess, accidentally on a bag of chips, and it crunches. He makes a butt-shaped hole with the snacks next to himself, then affectionately pats the area and looks at you.

You scooch around and pop open a bag of gummy bears. “We’re starting the movie early today, huh?”

“You gotta return it tomorrow. We can’t have any more distractions now, can we?” He fiddles with the remote, pressing buttons here and there. There’s only static on the TV. He groans and gives it a good few smacks.

“Wow,” you drawl. “Eddie Munson himself, actually remembering due dates, and not even his responsibility? That’s new.” He turns around to retaliate, but is hit by a gummy bear straight to the face. “Bullseye,” you laugh.

He only sighs and walks towards the kitchen. His hand squeezes your thigh on the way and, with an exasperated voice, says, “Be good ‘til I get back.”

The movie ends without another hitch, and it’s not long after that both of you are back in his bedroom.

“So,” he says as he claps his hands together dramatically. “It’s time for lessons by Mr. Munson himself.” He picks up the acoustic guitar and seats himself down next to you on the bed. “Wanna show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“To be honest, not much. Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Munson,” you shrug, taking over and strumming out a few test chords. He wets his lips absentmindedly.

“Well, you seem to remember the C chord, at least,” he nods. “But—” He cups your fingers and shifts them downward. “You’re a bit too high there, sweetheart.”

The touch burns through your skin and sets your mind, body, and heart aflame. It takes you a second to answer. A second too long, is what Eddie thinks.

“Okay…what about my G?” you ask quietly, not trusting yourself to breathe.

“Your G what? G-string or G chord?”

You blink.

He winks.

And your body is at war. The rope inside you tugs between choosing violence or letting yourself melt in his arms. It’s close to betraying you, until you choose fight-or-flight’s third sibling: freeze.

Eddie cackles as he shakes you awake. You feel your consciousness slam back into your body with full force. Your mind is going insane. What did he mean? Does he want to do something? Does he want me ? You’re about to open your mouth, to say Yes! Yes, Eddie, I want you!

“Bad joke. Sorry.”

You wish the moon would become unlatched from whatever science-y, physics-y thing that’s keeping it in orbit and hurl towards Earth and just crush you to death right then and there. How does one recover from this?

Except you do. He spends the next thirty minutes teaching you an easy song that includes the whopping four chords you’ve learned. It goes as smoothly as you hope, until the heat radiating off of Eddie and wafting onto your back is making you uncomfortably sticky.

When you had left the house earlier, you wore tank top with a denim jacket to cover your arms. It wasn’t your best look, but you weren’t trying to impress anyone (more of a self-persuasion, but who’s really checking?). The decision feels like a huge mistake now, because you are definitely not comfortable enough at the moment to let him see your skin like that.

Each touch, each movement, and each breath of Eddie’s fanning over your neck so deliciously gives you more and more confidence as the night moves on. He’s pressing all the right buttons, as if knowingly, and your barrier begins to crack.

You carry on with full composure, as you always have . He gives you a simple task: play at least halfway into the song perfectly. When you do, he leans in, lips slightly brushing your earlobe, and whispers, “Good girl.”

Your face begins to heat up at a rapid rate. Your body, on the other hand, isn’t sure whether it should tense up or relax. Eddie notices and places his hands on your shoulders, giving you quick squeezes sympathetically. It only makes it worse.

Not sure how you did it, but you were able to get the guitar safely on the bed before jumping off of it entirely.

“Wow,” he exhales and simpers. “I just wanted to see if you had a praise kink or so—”

He’s cut short by your glossy eyes and trembling lips. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out, so he waves his hands uselessly.

“What, so I’m just a joke to you?” Your voice betrays you, as much as you attempt to conceal your vulnerability. It sports a matching look on your face. This is it , you think. You lasted only a couple of months after making your first friend at this stupid school, and thinking about it makes you feel ashamed. Somehow, this feels worse than a real break-up.

“I’m—Hey, look at me, please. I’m so sorry.” He’s scrambling to fix his mistake, hands all over you, and eyes frantically searching you for a hint of forgiveness, even if he knows it’s futile.

“Eddie, I need to go. It’s fi—”

“No!” he cries, causing you to flinch. His grip softens on your shoulders, but is still unwaveringly attached. “It’s not fine.”

Even through the thick material of your jacket, the knowledge that he’s still touching you has you squirming painfully. “God, please , stop touching me.”

Now, Eddie’s heart is breaking into a million pieces, and you know it well. Since the first day you met him, you could tell what his love language was. From the way he’d ruffle your hair affectionately after a campaign win, or how he’d pull you into a bone-smashing hug whenever you brought his favorite snack to school, to simply the way his eyes would twinkle right before giving you a first bump every time you parted ways. In a sense, this was a real break-up to him.

His arm slowly slides off of you, with a pained look on his face. He then stares at you expectantly. When you make a move to the side, he reaches out towards you, though not close enough to touch.

“Please don’t go yet. Just—” He closes his eyes and groans against his palms, and you’re sober enough to know it’s not directed at you. If you hadn't felt so terrible, you’d laugh at the way he was repenting. You stare slack-faced at him, and while it’s not the reaction he was hoping for, he takes it as a second chance. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Like how you don’t know why you said, ‘g-string’ or why you just messed with me all night?” you nearly shouted. It takes a lot of energy to force the sass through your pain, but it shows enough to cause Eddie to shrink within himself. You can’t even feel bad anymore. Maybe this was an overreaction on your part. He’s always been like this, so what is different now? In a way, there is still a part of you that actually does feel bad, but only because you let yourself waste away in your feelings without ever bringing it up to him. There is no way for him to really know how you feel about him without communicating it. Even then, normal friendships aren’t like this. Friends don’t whisper dirty things into each other’s ears. Friends don’t playfully flirt with real sexual tension. So it’s not fair that you have to endure this while he’s the only one having fun.

Eddie, on the other hand, wants to stuff his mouth with his fist. He wants to pull his hair out, he wants to scream into his pillow, but most of all, he wants to hold you and apologize over and over until he’s completely lost his voice. For you, he would grovel as much as you want him to, and to him, that would be nothing if it meant you’d take him back.

His voice cracks when he manages to find the courage to speak again. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable with my behavior.” He looks at you intently, eyes roaming your face, searching— begging .

You look away, and it scares him. He’s never seen you cry like this, and it’s even worse since he’s the reason why. His arms twitch, and he realizes that that was the last time he’ll ever be that close to you again.

After a million years (according to Eddie), you sigh, “That’s not the issue.” There’s a fierceness to you now, surprising the both of you. You jab a finger at his chest viciously. “My issue with you is that you keep taking my feelings lightly.” His brows furrow, and it only pisses you off even more.

“I like you, you asshole!” There was no point of return. All of that was out the window the moment he crossed a line. Instead of feeling scared or sad, like you thought you would, you were instead enraged with an addicting fury. “And you .” You make a point to jab him especially hard for emphasis. “You have the nerve to mess with me all night long—not to mention even whining about how I should spend every waking moment with you when I already do…and you know what the kicker in all of this was? I did wish I was at the mall with you! I did wish I was on a date with you!”

His forehead is creasing, eyes wide, and mouth pursing. When it finally opens, he breathes out an Oh. And he suddenly he knows how to make things right.

In your complete, utter mess of a breakdown, you don’t realize that you had balled your hands tightly into a fist until you let go, and the searing pain from your nails digging into your palms lets up.

Maybe you were okay with destroying this friendship before, you try to convince yourself, but the regret starts pooling into your belly along with nausea. You’re too ashamed to look at him, yet you also don’t have the courage to move from your spot. So once again, the room is just filled with the sounds of labored breathing and bated breath, both standing in a face-off.

And then you will your legs to move, to run far, far away. But Eddie catches you first, and his face is sloppily smashed against yours as he pulls your lips into his own. Certainly, this is bold, the boldest thing he’s ever done, he’d argue. Still, he’s unable to withdraw because once he has you—your scent, your soft skin, and your gasps keeps him wanting more and more.

It only ends when both of you come up for air, foreheads still glued together as you laugh mirthlessly. “This whole time?” you murmured.

You can feel the smug grin on his lips as he attacks the junction of your neck. You melt against him. “Yeah.” He continues down to your shoulder after pulling your jacket off, his mouth never leaving you. “So, was I right?”

“Hmm?” You couldn’t trust yourself to speak anymore. Somehow, Eddie has gotten you back to his bed, and you feel his necklace glide across your chest coldly, sending little shivers along your spine.

“‘Bout you having a praise kink,” he mumbles. He’s taking his time on a particular spot near your collarbone, making sure to really mark you well.

You’re too embarrassed to reply, so you hope he moves on from it. He doesn’t—worse, he stops. He’s holding himself up with his arms, caging you in, and looks at you mischievously. “Sweetheart, I asked you a question. Don’t go shy on me now. ”

You reach up to press a kiss against him, but he easily flicks you back down like a fly. His brow arches, though he’s still grinning arrogantly.

“Fine, yes, yes, yes, I do.”

“That’s my girl.”

You moan into him when he’s back on your mouth, tongues slow dancing. You still feel hot, but it’s different this time around. It’s more freeing—like you’ve let something go, and now you’re finally able to enjoy it.

Eddie is a much better kisser than you imagined. You’ve thought about how he’d taste and how it’d go, oh absolutely, but this is real . You memorize the way his tongue darts around as if mapping out every part of you, mixed in with the faint smell of cigarettes and pure testosterone.

He’s gripping your chest as he makes his way down and massages it to Hell and back. You can’t help but love how primal you’ve got him, which only turns you on even more.

“I’ve wanted to do many…many… many, ” he accents each word with a wet kiss down your arms. “...unholy things to you since I laid my eyes on you.”

You strip off your top and bra, tossing them to the side with urgency. He only chuckles at your brazenness before giving both of your breasts a firm squeeze. You push him onto the bed and straddle him. “C’mon, Eddie, your turn.” He looks at you incredulously, then his stare turns dark after a blink of an eye. His hands run up and down the sides of your waist, leaving little goosebumps in their wake.

“My, my, who knew you were so forward? All of that innocence…just an act.” He reaches out and captures your chin, firmly holding on as he angles your face around. The cold air drifts against your chest, causing your nipples to perk up. You release a shaky breath and close your eyes, suddenly feeling timid. “No, no, open them for me, sweetheart.”

When you do, you feel him twitch under you, provoking you to ground back down on him. Your eyes are half-lidded, hips rolling. A guttural groan expels from his throat, and he grips you to a standstill.

“Get—ugh, take it off already!” you whine, clawing at his t-shirt.

He’s looking at you with so much lust, yet it’s filled with tenderness; his hands rubbing circles into your own only reaffirming that. After a moment of silence (in which Eddie is aggressively admiring your beauty), he licks his lips and speaks.

“I want you to know that if we continue, this won’t be the last time. There will never— ever be ‘going back to being friends’ or ‘acting normal.’ Because to be frank with you, princess, I can’t do that.” His eyes take in your silhouette, wandering slowly and deeply, because he’s so afraid. So afraid that this will be the last time you let him see you again. He wants to memorize as much of you as possible in case it gets taken away. He takes a deep breath. “So, if we do this. I want more of you—not just the sex, but I want to take you out. And… I won’t do this if you don’t want that. I don’t want this to be a one-and-done deal. Got it?”

You’re unsure whether it’s the adrenaline running through your veins or the sexual tension you feel for him snapping, but you run your hands under his shirt and over his bare chest. For whatever reason, his thoughtfulness turns you on even more than you thought you could be. You ache for his touch, and the desire builds into a searing pain. He wants to stop you, but he can’t; you’re too mesmerizing.

“Eddie,” you moan out. He whimpers under your touch, and he bucks up into you. The muscles in his hand flex against your hip, fighting against his vices. Who knew having a pretty girl on top of him would have him become such a mess?

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’re not helping me here. I need you to tell me you—” He flips you under him, knee wedged conveniently between your legs, pushing barely enough against your core. He’s frustrated in more ways than one. His eyes implore of you, with the addition of his voice being much deeper. He lets you rub against his thigh for a moment before pulling back. He pins your hands above your head and hovers closely over you just enough for you to hear his harsh whisper. “Now, now, you’re not being very good, are you? Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you beg.

“Understand what?”

“Fuck, Eddie, I want you to be mine. My boyfriend, my heart, my soul, and—” You slide your fingers down his body. “Your cock .”

“Shit,” he grins cheekily. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” He moves to unbutton your jeans as his tongue sticks out in concentration. You don’t understand how he could still be so cute during an activity as sinful as this. Once the garment is off your legs, you return the favor, nearly ripping his shirt off his back.

He quickly pulls you back onto his lap. You continue running your hands down his chest as one of his fingers hook into the hem of your underwear, rubbing the skin of your hips with the pads of his fingers. His other hand swipes teasingly down your cunt through the fabric, causing the thick wet line to fully soak your panties immediately upon contact. You rut against him, despising the barrier that is his jeans. You need to feel him now .

“Patience, sweetheart,” he says hoarsely, right before pulling your underwear off completely. “There’s something I wanna try first.” He pulls your hips up to his face roughly, and your hands land on the wall above him for support. You giggle.

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to put on the reigns.” Your heat is right above his mouth; you can feel his hot breath fluttering across, making you drip even more. His soft lips target your core, making sure to run his tongue over your clit from time to time. In the meantime, his hands continue roaming your body, starting from the bend in your knees to your quite indulgent thighs, all the way up to your chest. As you’re stuck in his maze of pleasure, he catches you off guard and pulls on your nipple. You yelp in surprise and arousal, the electricity of it aiding you in the roll of your hips against his face. He smiles against you, easily lapping up any juices that come out.

It causes you to release your most lewd sound of the night so far, and this man is soaking it all up. He loves that he’s the one to make you feel this way and no one else.

“Bet Harrington couldn’t make you moan like that for him.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up, I wouldn’t have even let him.”

“Careful with those eyes, I don’t want them rolling to the back of your head unless you’re bouncing on my cock.” He continues suckling at your clit and your eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the sensation. You’ve played with yourself before, but it was never like this. You could only get so far with just your fingers rubbing idly as your mind sneaks off somewhere else. Just the way his tongue moves around you so languidly has you close to your climax already.

He abruptly palms both your ass cheeks and pushes you deeper down into his face, to the point where you’re terrified you’re going to smother him—but he keeps it there, firm and steady, and darts his tongue in deep .

Now, you’ve seen this man’s tongue countless times before. Whenever pure concentration is necessary, that one time he provoked Jason Carver in the cafeteria, and the many periods of time when he merely wanted to make funny faces at you to cheer you up, like a child. Have you thought about what they’d feel in your mouth and inside of you? Naturally. But what you failed to understand was the sheer strength and length of each thrust. When you look down at him, you expect to see multiple appendages because there is no way he could work on so much of you all at once. Oh, it is so much better than you thought.

The thin sheen of sweat on his skin has his bangs sticking to his forehead. The rest of his hair falls nicely around him, like a halo under your thighs. The tip of his nose is bumping wonderfully against your button, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He’s looking straight at you, cheeks slightly hollowed out from the sucking motion. He squeezes your ass and gives a single slap. Your arms fall from the wall and land on the sheets next to him. Unable to hold back any longer, you start tweaking at your nipples. The sight has Eddie groaning into you, sending heavy vibrations straight to your folds.

“ Fuck , Eddie.” You want to scream, but you’re afraid that the neighbors might hear. You stifle a few more moans to the depths of your soul, until you feel your climax inching towards you. He answers incoherently into your pussy, but you know what he wants. His hands grip you tighter, helping you grind against his face. With one more hard suck around your nub, your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your center pulses with each high, and you swear you’re seeing stars. You topple over, body limp beside Eddie as he licks his lips. His face is drenched with your cum.

“Was it that good, princess? I didn’t even get to finger you yet.” He waves his fingers humorously in front of your face. He’s leaning on one arm, admiring the work he’s made of you. Your chest is still heaving from the intensity, and you fan yourself.

“God, yes, it was so—I don’t even—have you done this before?”

“Oh, but of course,” he replies without missing a beat. You looked at him in surprise, then at the mess he made out of you. “What, do I seem like a virgin?” Your eyes are half-lidded, and you feel the embrace of sleep coming over you, but you’re able to muster out a yes and a few chortles for good measure.

Eddie had gotten up in the meantime and wiped his face with a towel, then used another to wipe you down. You croak out a “ Thanks” as he places a kiss on your forehead. He’s about to pull his covers over you, but you grab his hand with a frightful ferocity, alarming the poor man before you. He looks at you in question.

You fight the sleep in your eyes, and yank on his belt loop. He falls over you, quickly catching himself with an arm next to your head. He chuckles. “What is it, sweetheart? Haven’t had enough?”

You palm him over the jeans, and he hisses, but keeps steady. It was the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever experienced in your life, and as a result, your body’s energy levels are depleted. You feel guilty, wanting to return the favor, especially since he still has a hard-on, but it was getting more difficult each second that passes by. He notices and moves to the side of the bed.

“Maybe next time,” he says.

“Next time,” you whisper.

And the world fades to black.

#stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #smut #eddie munson

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wildestdreamsblog · 2 months

Text

Latibule Season 2: III

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!

GIF by urmingirl

Masterlist, Latibule 2.II

Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.

“Hyung, is it always like that?”

“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.

“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”

Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.

Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.

“What brought this on?”

“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”

Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.

He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.

“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”

Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.

“Why?”

“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”

“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.

“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.

Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”

To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”

“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”

Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”

Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.

“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.

“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”

The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.

He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.

And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.

One morning, it finally happened. There you were.

Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.

That was you, he was sure.

Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.

“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.

Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.

“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”

“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.

Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.

“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”

Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.

“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.

—-

Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.

Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.

Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.

Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.

So where was he?!

He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.

He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.

“At Seoul, hyung-“

“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”

“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”

Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”

Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“

His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.

There was you.

It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.

He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.

Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?

But no.

He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.

It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.

With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”

But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.

And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.

How did this happen to you?

Was it because of the incident?

Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?

Or did he miss all the glaring signs?

Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”

The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.

You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.

Until it did.

Until you understood each word written in that book.

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?

Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.

You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.

He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts yandere #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x y/n #mafia bts fic #yandere min yoongi #suga x y/n

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starkwlkr · 1 year

Note

Can I request a protective Max going above and beyond to keep his gf or fiancee (you take the call) safe from a stalker? I'd leave the rest to your imagination on how to make it dramatic cause I love drama.

nothings going to hurt you baby | max verstappen

Y/n was always a private person, but that all changed when she met Max. She was often seen in the paddock supporting her boyfriend. She went from staying in on Friday nights to traveling around the world to watch Max race. She realized how many eyes were on her when her friend sent her multiple articles with her name in bold letter on the front cover.

It was the first race of the season and Y/n was once again in the paddock. This time though she was alone. Her friend that usually accompanied her to the races was busy. As she walked towards the Red Bull hospitality, the usual photographers took her picture. Even after years of dating Max, she was never getting used to the constant flashing lights that belonged to the cameras.

When she reached the hospitality, she sat at a table near the window and took out her phone. It was a regular routine for Y/n now. Stay a few minutes in the Red Bull hospitality, meet up with Max before the race then went up to the paddock roof and watched the race from there.

After spending sometime alone, she put her phone in her pocket and walked out of the hospitality, completely unaware that a man had followed her out. In a few short minutes, she found herself entering the Red Bull garage.

“Is Max in his driver’s room?” She asked Max’s engineer, Gianpiero. He nodded with a smile and continued his work.

Y/n walked to the driver’s room and knocked lightly until she heard Max’s voice telling her to come in. She opened the door and saw Max finishing putting on his race suit.

“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked, approaching Max and giving a kiss on the lips.

“Well since you’re here, I’m feeling pretty good. You know I always do well when you’re here.” Max replied. “I don’t want you to be alone so you can stay in the garage instead.”

“Max, I’ll be fine. There’s going to be people around me so I won’t be alone.” Y/n assured him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Some fan might want to bother you. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable during the race.”

“I’ll be fine, Max.”

Of course that didn’t happen.

During the race, she could feel eyes on her. It was kind of normal since most fans recognized her as Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. But this time, Y/n felt different. Her mother always told her to trust her gut feeling. So in that moment she did. Y/n walked down the stairs of the paddock roof and tried to walk to the Red Bull garage but some man ran into her.

“I’m so sorry. Oh, you’re a very pretty girl. I’m sorry.” He told her.

“Excuse me, I need to be somewhere.” Y/n tried walking away but he blocked her way.

“Where to? You look lost.”

“I know where I’m going so please move.” Y/n started feeling scared. She should’ve listened to Max.

“Woah, no need to get mad. I’m a nice guy. Why are girls always mean to the nice guys?” He asked.

“I’m done talking to you.” Y/n pushed past the man. She had a feeling he would start to follow her so she walked a bit faster towards the garage that only the Red Bull team (including her) could enter. When she arrived, she let out a sigh of relief.

She remained in the garage until the end of the race. Max had ended up on the podium once again. Y/n wanted to celebrate with the team and Max, but she once again had the feeling that the scary man would take the opportunity to find her so she stayed in the garage while the team celebrated another win.

When Max arrived to the garage, he first went up to his girlfriend, obviously confused as to why she wasn’t out in the track.

“I’m sorry. I was scared and I should’ve listened to you and stayed here. I’m so sorry.” Y/n rambled as Max gave her a much needed hug.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I’m here.” Max assured her, pressing light kisses to her forehead.

“On the roof, I had this strange feeling so I was on my way down here and this guy wouldn’t let me walk away, Max. He tried following me so I came here as fast as I could.” Y/n explained. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“You’re okay now. You’re here with me and that’s all that matters. I’m not letting some guy hurt you.”

Max had talked with Christian about making sure someone was always with Y/n during a race. The team leader even made sure the garage had more security. Now, Y/n felt more safe. Every race after the incident, she stayed in the garage and if she wanted to watch the race from a different location, someone was always with her, even when it came to watching Max celebrate on the podium. Max wasn’t going to let anyone hurt the woman he loves.

Right after the podium ceremony, he would make sure to check on Y/n before he was pulled away for interviews.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked Y/n as he wiped his face with a towel. Y/n smiled at him and kissed his lips that tasted like champagne.

“I’m more than okay. Thank you.” Y/n replied.

“I have a couple interviews to do. Sarah said she would stay with you.” Max informed his girlfriend.

“Sometimes I feel like Sarah is my babysitter. I love her, remind me to get her something good for her birthday. I’m thinking a trip to the Bahamas.” Y/n chuckled.

“I think she’ll love that.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #anon #f1 x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #mv33 #max verstappen fanfic

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heavenlycloud · 3 months

Text

le sserafim reaction to you doing a tiktok trend on them: le sserafim x fem! reader

authors note: i wrote this back when these trends were actually trending a few months ago. this wasn't requested but i got the idea while scrolling through tiktok and forgot to post it so here it is!

tw// VERY VERY light barely there suggestive remarks

sakura ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

you and your members had just gotten finished with weeks of packed schedules with little rest. finally, you were finally fixing your sleeping schedule and feeling less like a zombie and more like a human being again. your members were decompressing in their own ways like yunjin who was lost in her own world strumming on her guitar in the room beside yours. chaewon and kazuha were watching some new drama in the living room and eunchae was asleep in her room. sakura busied herself with her new hobby, crocheting, while listening to a video with her headphones on. you watched your girlfriend make her new project- a small bag made of mesh-like stitches. her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to count her stitches in her head so not to disturb you sitting silently across from her. she assumed you were reading a new book from your online library but you were actually just watching tiktoks. after seven chapters of your novel you'd lost interest and switched to something more entertaining. you'd stumbled onto a trend of girls asking their boyfriends to hand them an orange, then asking if they'd peel it for them to see the reaction. with nothing else to do you decided to give it a try:

"kkura?" you poked your girlfriend with your socked foot and she answered without looking up from her crocheting, "yes?" you put your phone in your lap and sighed, "i want a clementine, do you know if we have any?" sakura hummed and looked up, "there's some in the kitchen inside of the refrigerator in the bottom left drawer. i just got them for you yesterday on my way home." you smiled at the mention because you didn't ask her to buy them for you yesterday, she just did it because she thought you'd enjoy them. you clasped a clip back onto one of the twists that fell into your face before you asked sweetly, "can you please get it?" without hesitation sakura nodded and said while still focusing on the hook and yarn in her hand, "gimmie one second." when she finished her row she went to get your clementine and returned with two and a paper towel.

your girlfriend sat back down and began peeling the clementines for you without you having to ask. she even pulled the little stringy parts that you hated most off and threw them away with the peels. when she handed you back the peeled fruits you asked, "why did you peel them for me?" sakura answered easily, "you don't like how the peels gets stuck under your nails so i did it. enjoy." you leaned over and kissed her cheek, "thank you, kkura." she pressed a kiss to your temple, "of course my love."

chaewon ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

despite being a part of gen z and being called one of the best gen z idols by fans, you were underqualified in one area: social media. you didn't even remember to check your texts let alone what was trending across different apps. the only reason you knew if something was on trend or not was because of fans or your friends teaching you. however, after being teased about it you promised yourself that you'd keep up a little more just for fun. plus, your bosses suggested it'd be good for fan service and engagement which was always a good thing. but, what wasn't a good thing was that little promise to keep up with trends resulted in you now being 'chronically online' according to yunjin. you scrolled through your for you page and watched yet another video of a woman asking her partner, "name a woman." after going down a rabbit hole of the same type of video you decided to try it out on your own girlfriend.

"baby." you shook chaewon lightly as she laid in your arms with her cheek pressed against your bare shoulder. she answered sleepily, "hmmm?" you grinned as you told her, "name a woman."

chaewon pulled away from you slightly and asked, "what do you mean?" you responded plainly, "name a woman." your girlfriend toyed with one of your box braids and asked once more in confusion, "any woman?" you clarified, "any woman." she then replied without a second thought, "han sohee." you let out a huff and tried again, "name a different woman." chaewon answered again with a different name, "bada lee." you could almost hear the smile in her voice that time and you whined, "you were supposed to say my name!" your girlfriend pulled away from you fully and told you, "you said 'name a woman' not 'name my woman'. there's a difference, you're mine."

yunjin ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

you were no stranger to the song water by tyla or the dance challenge that went along with it. one evening while you were on a weverse live you'd played the song after seeing people comment the title. you sang along to it and mentioned with a smirk, "i want to perform this on a stage so bad guys. i learned the dance and everything but i don't know if i'd ever be able to show you. ever since you'd randomly danced to WAP during a live a year ago, you've been monitored more than your other members. but after fans demanded for days on end you were finally allowed to post your water challenge on tiktok.

"i dunno i think you need to do it again." yunjin sat in front of you with her back against the mirror in the dance practice room. your girlfriend was acting as your camerawoman for your tiktok challenge, and she had you redo the dance nearly 15 times now. you taught her the dance earlier and she was doing it a little too well yet she insisted only you be in the video. she eyed you up and down with her gaze lingering on your rolled up tank top and sweatpants that sat low on your hips. you sighed and did the dance again along to the music before asking her, "was that one better? lemme see-" you reached for her phone and she said, "oh i wasn't recording that." your eyes widened and you asked, "wha- why not?! were you recording any of them?" yunjin shook her head and you smacked her arm, "yunjin! you had one job!" your girlfriend defended herself, "what? you can't expect me to remember what i'm supposed to do if you're shaking all that in my face." she wrapped her arms around your waist and kissed your neck but you pulled away.

you told her, "you can have me later okay? now focus!" just as you were pulling away she looped her fingers around one of the strings of beads that sat on your hips. yunjin tied a hoodie around your torso and said, "much better. now i can focus." you rolled your eyes and told her, "you're no better than a man." she waved you off, "yeah okay. just do your little dance...i'm ready now i swear."

kazuha ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

you knew that yunjin created a monster when she introduced your members to chipotle and not even a full day later kazuha was saying she missed it. every time she looked back through her camera roll for pictures to post she was sending her chipotle photo to the group chat saying she wanted it again. you found it hilarious because all it took was one bowl and she was already whining about how korea needed to get hip to the fast food chain.

one night after scrolling through your tiktok feed you saw a man recreate chipotle at home for his wife so you thought you'd try it for kazuha. you couldn't find all of the exact recipes but you came pretty close despite the fact that cilantro just doesn't really exist in korea. but knowing your girlfriend, she'd appreciate anything that you gave her so it was fine.

"zuha! baby come here i have something for you." you called kazuha to the kitchen where you had all of the food laid out in containers on the table. you handed her a bowl and said, "i made you chipotle." kazuha's eyes lit up and she nearly jumped over the table to tackle you into a hug. she clapped her hands together and you stood on the other side of the table to serve her your home version of chipotle. she was more than happy to post about it on weverse, showing the meal off to everyone especially knowing that her members weren't around to steal any off her plate.

#kpop fanfic #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop imagines #girl group fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #le sserafim scenarios #lesserafim imagines #le sserafim reactions #kpop girl group #yunjin imagines #kazuha imagines #sakura imagines #chaewon imagines #le sserafim x reader

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ginnsbaker · 4 months

Text

Fic: Right Here, Right Now

Summary: Marrying the love of your life a second time around is definitely sweeter // An ILGOSS Oneshot.

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader | Word count: 1.4k+ | Warnings: None...? does cheese count? | A/N: Did you miss me? Thank you to the anon who suggested this one-shot. This is set in the ILGOSS universe, but can be treated as an independent story about two divorced wives marrying each other again. This functions more like a drabble, think of it like a missing scene in the epilogue. Enjoy!

Masterlist

It's been a grueling twelve hours since you last saw Wanda, and you're practically climbing the walls. Your heart's doing this annoying jittery thing, and the more you try to calm down, the more agitated you become. This whole ‘not seeing the bride before the wedding’ tradition is driving you nuts.

Desperate, you send a text to Natasha. I need to see her, you say, barely keeping it together to type a full sentence. I can't wait till the aisle.

Your phone buzzes almost immediately with Natasha’s reply. On it!, she texts back, and you know she's cooking up some scheme. Relying on your best friend to create the perfect diversion feels like your only lifeline.

It only takes a few minutes when suddenly, an ear-splitting sound erupts from outside, jerking everyone's attention away from the primping and preening. Your eyes shoot wide—trust Natasha to choose something as dramatic as a fire or emergency hazard for a diversion. Part of you frets Wanda might be one of the first out there. Nevertheless, the plan works like a charm. Like clockwork, the room empties out, everyone drawn out by the allure of drama and a juicy story.

You’re half-curious about what kind of ruckus Natasha managed to come up with, but that thought vanishes instantly when you hear the other bedroom door open with a soft creak. A second later, a smile gradually spreads across your lips when you hear a set of footsteps, familiar to you as your own heartbeat. Rising carefully from your chair to avoid stepping on the hem of your pristine white dress, you make your way to the door as quickly as decorum allows.

As you reach the stairs, you spot your bride already making her way down. Seeing her, even with her back turned to you, takes your breath away and seals your fate of forever having your heart in Wanda’s captivity. It's hard to believe you managed to be with her the first time. Harder to think about how you almost lost her in your life for good, but here you are, feeling like the luckiest person in the world to have her back again for a second chance.

“Hey.”

Wanda turns at the sound of your voice, and her smile illuminates the space around her, outshining the sun's rays filtering through the windows. A gentle sea breeze teases her hair, softly framing her face. You stand frozen at the top of the stairs, unable to comprehend how everything you’ve both been through, led to this miraculous moment.

“Hi,” she greets in return, nodding towards the commotion outside. “Everybody rushed out. Could be an emergency.”

You shake your head and smile widely, teeth digging at your bottom lip, helpless as a blush taints both of your cheeks. Wanda looks absolutely stunning, and it's like you're suddenly back in college again, seeing her for the first time. You miss a step, almost causing you to fall flat on your face, just like you did back then.

“I…might have asked Nat’s help to get you alone,” you say with a sheepish grin. “I, uh, I wanted to do something. I-If you’re up for it.”

“Sounds serious,” Wanda teases, perching herself on the handrail. She arches an eyebrow, her eyes reflecting a desire that mirrors your own. It takes every ounce of your self-control, and then some, not to sweep Wanda into your arms and forget about the ceremony altogether. For several seconds, you're silent, prompting Wanda to reach out. Her fingers lightly brush against your arm, and that simple touch sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“What’s the plan?” she whispers, as if guarding a precious secret.

Without hesitation, as if the idea has been burning inside you your whole life, you blurt out, “Let’s get married.”

“You do remember we're getting married today, right?” Wanda says, barely hiding her amusement.

You nod, stepping closer to her. “Yeah, I know. But right here, right now, I want to marry you. Just us, committing to each other without anyone else around.”

Wanda's smile softens, and she steps closer. “Just us?” Her voice is soft, almost disbelieving.

You almost back out, feeling a bit silly. “Sounds a bit selfish, huh? Forget I said it—”

“No, don't,” she quickly says, grabbing your hand. “It's not selfish. It's actually really sweet, considering everything.”

You bite back the admission that this impromptu plan was born just minutes ago. Maybe the real reason couples are advised against seeing each other several hours before the ceremony is due to moments like this. Seeing Wanda in her dress, so beautiful, it's hard not to just marry her on the spot, forget the past, forget the plans. Moreso, there's something different about this second time. You're both older, wiser, each with a richer history that stretches far and beyond. It feels more layered, as if you've both fought harder for this moment than for anything else in your lives.

Taking another step down, you move closer to Wanda, holding her gaze. Your own dress trails behind you, its fabric whispering softly with each movement.

“We’re really doing this?” you ask.

“Getting a second shot at being your wife, especially after how badly I messed up… I never thought I’d get that chance again,” Wanda confesses, standing so close you can feel her breath. You tower a few inches over her, yet you feel utterly helpless under her spell.

“If it were up to me, I’d have dragged you to city hall the moment you said yes,” she adds. “But I wanted this moment to be perfect for you.”

And it is, you think to yourself. You almost take her face in your hands, but at the last minute, you decide against it, not wanting to ruin the meticulous work of those who spent hours making her look so stunning–efforts you deeply appreciate. Instead, you guide her hand to your chest, right over your heart, feeling its steady beat under her palm. A small, fragile thing, but it's filled with everything you feel for her.

“Wanda Maximoff, I take you to be my wife,” you swallow thickly, trying your best not to ruin your own make-up. “I am wholly and undeniably yours, and I promise to keep choosing you, every single day.”

You look into her eyes, and there's a whole universe in that gaze. “You're my love, my heart, my home. In this life, or the next. Today, I recommit my life to you, with all that I am and all that I have.”

For a few beats, everything goes quiet, allowing your words to truly sink in between the two of you. Then, you let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, just as Wanda tries to catch hers.

“And I promise to be true to us, to what we have now,” she replies, her slender frame trembling slightly under the weight of her emotions. You swipe away a rogue tear that slips down her cheek, then kiss her forehead tenderly. Her promise clearly reflects on her past mistakes. Though you've forgiven her countless times, you understand the importance of her saying it out loud.

Taking both of your hands, Wanda looks up at you, her eyes shimmering and full of hope. “I promise to love you, to stay faithful to you, to be yours through and through. You're my heart, my soul, my everything—and I'm going to spend every day proving that to you.”

And with that, you feel every part of you intertwining with hers. You lean in and kiss her, soft and delicate. It's as natural as it's always been with Wanda, as if your lips remember what your minds might sometimes forget.

Later, just outside your childhood home, surrounded by your closest friends and family, you still cry when Wanda reads you her vows. She does the same when you call her “My wife”, and then again when you address her using your last name.

The reception, following immediately after the ceremony, officially concludes with the remainder of the fireworks that Natasha had launched prematurely earlier as part of her plan to create a distraction, allowing you to sneak in and have a moment alone with Wanda. You and Wanda spend the rest of the night barely taking your eyes off each other, basking in the presence of everyone you’ve ever loved.

If life has taught you one enduring lesson, it's that the most precious things are never easily won. And you and Wanda, you've proven time and again that you're cut out for exactly that— fighting against all odds, for the love that's worth every bit of the struggle.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #oneshots #wanda maximoff au #fic request #ilgoss oneshot

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charlie-lec-stories · 5 months

Text

McLaren Detectives Department // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: One day Max is totally furious with Y/N and Charles' relationship and the next he's completely fine with it, Lando is not buying it.

Warnings: Suggestive talk, Lando and Oscar rambling on conspiracy theories, Oscar being the annoying little brother, Lando being unable to mind his own business.

Author’s Note: This one is quite funny, I hope you guys like it as much as I do. Rate: +16

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Lando Norris was a simple man, he grew up with the commodities and luxuries of an upper class boy and had never in his life took a bus, but you could take away all of his privilege and he could manage to survive. He could adapt, change his ways, work his way back to the top of the chain again, whatever it took. As long as he could interact with other people on a daily basis he didn't care what happened in his life, because he was fueled by one thing and one thing only: Gossip. Nothing in this life moved Lando more than gossip, he was a sucker for it and when he was paired with Oscar Piastri in McLaren, he found someone as unable to mind his own business as himself. They could spend hours just gossiping, about their friends, other drivers, celebrities, their families, whoever lived on Earth, they always had something to chat about. And their favourite part was drama. They loved it when some scandalous situation reached their ears and they'd spend the rest of the week talking about it and trying to keep up with the updates. The rest of the people who worked with them knew they were like that and more than once they would fake drama just to watch them ramble to each other about it for days. Their capability to gossip was the main entertainment of the garage.

Of course, when Y/N, Max Verstappen's best friend, and Charles Leclerc, Max's rival, started dating, it was the biggest drama the paddock had seen in years. Max and Charles going at each other's throats every weekend was like "Keeping up with the Kardashians" for Lando and Oscar. They would try to use any chance they got to listen to the arguments and comebacks the Ferrari and Red Bull drivers would throw at the other. Lando was close with Max, while Oscar was close with Charles and Y/N, which also meant that they would usually get more information from them, making their gossip sessions even more interesting. Lando loved to hear Max complain over and over again about Charles, telling him how much of a prick the monegasque was and constantly wondering what Y/N ever saw in him. Oscar and Y/N loved ice-cream, and they would go out for it pretty often, there, she sometimes talked about how worried she was about Max and Charles fighting all the time and Oscar did what he could to help her out. On the other hand, when Oscar and Charles went to play pool on Mondays, the Australian gladly listened to his friend complain about Max and his possessiveness over his girlfriend, getting a little possessive himself. All of this made Lando and Oscar fans number one of the Max-Y/N-Charles drama developing in the paddock.

The whole season, they watched the progress of motorsports' favourite couple. From Charles flirting with Y/N at the Mercedes garage, to the last race where Y/N hugged and comforted a defeated Charles who had just lost the championship. The McLaren boys witnessed the couple's hard launch on Instagram during summer break, with a scandalous picture of them kissing on Charles' yacht, Y/N sitting on his lap and Charles shamelessly grabbing at her ass. They had a feast with the fans' reaction to the picture and they had even more fun watching Max's live, while the three of them were together grabbing a beer. The dutchman's ears going red and his eyes hyper-focused on the screen of his phone, so angry that Lando was sure some smoke could go out of his head. They also had the pleasure to watch Max call Charles "stupid" on open TV, with millions watching, followed by the FIA's response to that and Max's public, and notoriously forced, apology. They were both aware that Y/N and Charles' relationship was the thing that Max despised the most on this world. He could spend weeks rambling about why the two should break up and how terrible of a combination they were.

It was suspicious, to say the least, when the first race of the next season, Max entered the paddock along with the couple, chatting amicably and even laughing a bit. Lando and Oscar stared at the sight of the three drivers skeptically, how come they were all friends now? What crucial episode of the telenovela did they miss? Something was off. They watched as Y/N and Charles walked holding hands towards the Mercedes garage, Max chatting excitedly with his best friend not even caring about her relationship anymore. At the entrance of the german team, Charles kissed his girlfriend goodbye and Max gave her a friendly peck on the cheek, then the girl went into the garage and the two guys walked to their own garages, talking lively just the two of them all the way. The whole day, the tree of them crossed paths and exchanged some words with big grins and happy auras, all of the previous tension completely dissipated.

"I don't get it, mate. They hated each other three months ago!". Lando said to Oscar while they were chatting in Oscar's driver's room. "I just can't get it".

"Maybe they talked?". Oscar suggested.

"Nah". Lando dismissed his idea with a flip of his hand. Oscar threw a little papaya ball at him, Lando caught it and threw it back. "I met with Max plenty of times during the off season, he would had told me".

"True". The other agreed and passed the ball again. "I also met with Y/N and Charles, went to their house for dinner a lot at the beginning of the year. They would've said something".

"Maybe it's a PR thing". Lando wondered as he played with the ball before passing it back. "Like, maybe they were scolded so bad for their behavior that now they have to act like they like each other to clean up their public images".

"That actually makes sense, I mean, Max did call Charles stupid on TV". Oscar chuckled and threw the ball back at Lando. "Amazing, mate. Sometimes, you do speak some sense".

"You're so funny". Lando threw the ball harder at Oscar, hitting him on the chest as a response to the other's teasing. Oscar let a huff out at the impact and then laughed a bit, satisfied with the annoyed reaction he got from Lando.

With the resolve to find out what made the other three change their act so drastically, Lando and Oscar started trying to gather some information. They spoke with other drivers, people from Mercedes, Ferrari and Red Bull, friends they all had in common, even Charles' brothers and Y/N mentor, Lewis Hamilton. Little by little, they both discovered that no one knew anything about Charles and Max putting their differences aside and were as shocked as them to see them hanging out in the paddock. Lewis asked Y/N about it and she told him that nothing happened and that everything was like always, which was obviously a lie, but he didn't want to pressure her on the matter. Lando and Oscar spent four race weekends melting their brains trying to work out what happened. Lando had enough. Everything was the same? He wasn't buying that. He walked to Max and asked directly. The dutchman was as direct with his answer: "I still want to jump his throat. I'm just being civil about it".

"Is that what he said?". Oscar asked and Lando just nodded his head while he bit his apple.

"He said that and then walked away. He didn't even give me time to ask more". Oscar played with the papaya ball, that seemed to be his new favourite toy.

"That's weird".

"I agree, if there's something Max isn't, is civil". Lando added with his mouth full. They were frustrated, they had even more questions than before.

Over time, Lando kept trying to extract more information from Max, but all he got were answers like "I have a lot of self control, that's all", "Just trying hard to do the right thing", "I'm trying to make him trust me a little more", "Just want to be close to Y/N again", and things like that. But there was a conversation that put Oscar and Lando on edge. They were discussing the Qualifying session, one where Max got pole and was closely followed by Y/N, Lando on third place. Y/N was explaining that she didn't like the circuit, she felt like every lap she was learning new information and she just could never feel like she was familiar with it. That led to talking about perceptions and how other things like lights and unnecessary noises could divert your attention from what's right in front of you. "Sometimes you need someone to remove everything you don't need so you can finally see clearly". Max said and he placed his hand on her hip, squeezing it lightly. Lando noticed the motion instantly. Max's eyes went from Y/N to behind her and the brit followed his gaze, landing on Charles, who was talking with George Russell and Alex Albon. The comment, the possessive squeeze, the way he so intensely looked at Y/N and then Charles, Lando felt a chill down his spine. Not a good one.

"You're crazy, mate. You finally lost it". Oscar said as he shook his head, shutting down the possibility right there and then.

"Think about it!". Lando paced back and forth on the little room, running his fingers through his hair. "He wants to get close to her again? Someone has to remove the things she doesn't need so she can see clearly? He believes that he's doing good at self control?". Oscar replayed the phrases inside his head. They did look suspicious.

"He still wants to jump Charles' throat...". Lando stopped on his tracks at Oscar's addition.

"We need to do something". There was this weight on their shoulders now that they finally understood Max's intentions. "Max is a great lad, we can't let him turn into a...". Lando struggled with the word, so he whispered it. "A killer".

They both agreed on that, they couldn't let Max go on with his plan of eliminating Charles. They liked them both, they weren't losing their friends just because they couldn't see eye to eye about their relationship with Y/N. They took turns to follow Max around, the only free time being when they had to focus on their jobs. They knew that Max wasn't killing Charles in the paddock, with so many possible witnesses. Every night, they both followed Max to his room and stayed there, hiding in a corner of the hotel hallway for an hour, making sure he wasn't coming out. Oscar even went to the extent of suggesting Charles getting bodyguards, when the other asked why, Oscar just ran away, leaving Charles extremely confused. Every chance they got, they did what they could to keep Max away from Charles, which was kind of hard since the dutchman was constantly following the couple around and trying to chat with them. Lando ended up running out of excuses to pull Max away and they understood that they had to do something about the situation.

One particular night, they followed Max to his room as always, but after 45 minutes, they saw him go out again. He wasn't wearing his usual Red Bull attire, instead, he wore black clothes, sunglasses and a cap, the hood of the hoodie covering his head. If they didn't know better, they would have never guessed it was Max. He went straight to the stairs and they followed him quietly, already suspecting where he was going. Oscar stopped to grab two brooms from a service room and Lando frowned at him. "We may need weapons", was what the Aussie said and Lando took one while scoffing. They hid at the stairs, watching Max stop on front of Charles' room. For insurance matters, Y/N stayed at another hotel, with the Mercedes crew, so Charles was most surely alone in the room, it was the perfect opportunity to kill him. First time in the season Red Bull and Ferrari stayed at the same hotel. Max looked around and opened the door as quietly as possible, walking in and shutting the door behind him.

"We need to go in, now!". Oscar said and tried to run off to the door, Lando grabbed him and pulled him back behind him.

"We need a plan. Let me think". Was he actually ready to stop his friend from killing another of his friends? He had never physically fought anyone, could he really stop a murder?

"Fuck a plan, we have to save Charles!". Oscar ran again and this time Lando followed him. They stopped at the door. There was music playing inside and they could faintly hear Charles' voice.

"No, Max, wait. Wait!". That was it, they were barging in.

"No, Max! DON'T DO IT, DON'T KILL HIM". Oscar screamed as they ran into the room with their brooms up, ready to attack. What they didn't expect was finding Max on his knees, in front of Charles, trying to undo the button of his jeans. "Oh... OOOH!".

"Putain de merde!". (Holy shit!). Charles cursed as he pushed Max's hands away from his body and backed away. Max fell backwards. Lando covered Oscar's eyes, they dropped the brooms. For a second, the room fell silent.

"Kill him?". Max asked, confused.

"I think we misread the situation...". Lando added, then, he thought about Y/N. "I can't believe you could do something like this to Y/N". He sneered.

"Are they decent?". Oscar asked, his eyes still covered. Lando removed his hand.

"It's not what you think-". Max started, but Lando cut him off.

"Oh, sure, you were just checking if the zipper of his jeans worked fine, weren't ya?". Oscar shook his head slowly, backing Lando up on his disappointment.

"Don't give me that look, you two barged in with brooms asking me not to kill Charles". Max said. "Sucking him off is way better than killing him". Lando saw Oscar make a face, like he was actually considering Max's point, he elbowed the younger driver and made him go back to his disappointed posture.

"We promise, it's not what you think". As Charles was saying that, the bathroom door opened, Y/N walking out with a blue and red lingerie set. She opened her eyes wide when she spotted to kids that weren't supposed to be there. Lando covered Oscar's eyes, again.

"Okay, I'll give it to you. It definitely wasn't what we thought". Y/N was still there, shocked. "Please, get dressed, there's a baby in the room".

"It's me, I'm the baby". Oscar added, his hands coming up over Lando's to make sure he didn't see anything. Charles ran to Y/N and covered her with his Ferrari hoodie that was close to the bathroom. Lando lowered his hand and Oscar opened on of his eyes to peek if it was safe, he then opened the other one.

"We fixed our problem". Max explained.

"We can see that". The brit stressed.

"We're uhm... all together?". Lando and Oscar looked at Charles when he added his comment. "We've been... you know".

"Fucking?".

"Among other things". Y/N corrected Lando. The two McLaren boys just nodded, synchronized. "We're happy like this, all together. We'd appreciate it a lot if you could keep the secret for us". Lando and Oscar smiled and nodded again.

"Of course, we will". They grabbed their brooms and got ready to leave. "We'll leave you to it".

"Thanks". Max said, the two were going out when he called them again. "And guys...". They turned around to look at him. "Don't play detective again. Do us a favor and buy yourselves a board game".

"Copy that". Oscar gave them a military salute and Lando just smiled. Outside, they both ran back down the stairs as fast as they could, giggling like teenagers. On the street, they kept laughing uncontrollably, walking back the three blocks to their own hotel.

"Mate, we're not gossiping anymore". Lando said, knowing pretty well that they will keep doing it.

"Deal". The rest of the way they just kept laughing and then, at the hotel, they went to their respective rooms, calling it a night. While lying in bed, Lando just couldn't sleep, repeating the night in his mind and giggling, there were a lot of sexual jokes and remarks he needed to let out. He went to grab his phone to text Oscar, ready to gossip again, when it vibrated on his hand. Lando laughed out laud at the message:

Oscar: "Can you top when there are two other people?".

Lando: "Dunno mate, but's gonna be a hell of a challenge to guess the bottom".

Oscar: "Challenge accepted".

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Well this one is a lot of fun! I thought Lando and Oscar were perfect for this one. Thank you for reading!

#lestappen x reader #lestappen imagine #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot #lestappen fic

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oozedninjas · 6 months

Text

Ghost Bridal

Summary: Rumor has it that the mystical jungle spirit will only resurface if a sacrifice is presented. However, Leo is taken aback. A sacrifice bridal wasn't something he would've expected from the people he vowed to protect. But with his mind clouded by the heat of his mating season, he resolves to accept you as oblation.

WARNINGS: NSFW/ 18+ / MDNI/10 years after the 2007 movie, so Leo 27-29/use of the word slut once/light dirty talk/mention of sexual toys/dry humping /oral (fem receiving) /Xenobiology (knot mentions)/somnophilia (if you read between the lines, squinting) / penetrative sex/chafing, bleeding and bruising/ aftercare/mating cycles/ The reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and possesses female anatomy/ Leo being the best boy despite the situation :')

Word count: 4,522

A/N: I now have an Ao3 account! This, along with other pieces, will be there by tomorrow!

—-------

"Quick, it's about to start!" Mikey exclaimed, gesturing with his arm, urging them closer.

Donatello arrived first, arranging the cushions on the couch for Splinter. Just as he finished, Leo assisted him in sitting down, and Raphael placed a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"I'm glad my sons make time to watch dramas with their father," Splinter commented.

Observing them all seated, his expression softened. Despite their age, they would always be his boys.

"We'll always have time for you, Dad," Mikey returned the smile.

The drama began. Donnie dimmed the lights with a small wrist device. The room fell quiet, illuminated only by the old television. Leo leaned his back on the sofa with a gentle expression before an itch of incompleteness stinged him again, rough, and stomach-twisting.

“There she is,” Splinter voiced, “I bet she will confess her love for Ma-”

The channel changed. On the screen, the afternoon news.

"Michelangelo!"

Mikey jumped, searching for the remote long lost between the cushions on his side of the couch. Leo got up to help, removing the pillows while vaguely listening to the fast-paced voice of the reporter.

"The inhabitants are desperately sending smoke signals and performing spiritual rituals to summon back the ghost of the jungle, a vigilante spirit who guarded the village ten years ago."

Leo's eyes snapped back to the screen.

"The situation is unsustainable. The factory is damaging the ecosystem. Losing it would signify the beginning of a collapse for humanity," said a doctor with exasperation. He pulled the mic from the news reporter as he approached the camera.

"If somehow you're listening, please come back. The jungle needs you. We need-"

The channel changed back to the drama.

"Found it," Mickey said, waving the remote.

No one cared anymore. Every pair of eyes was fixated upon Leo, whose heart pounded within his chest, echoing throughout his shell.

"You must go," said Splinter.

He tensed, sensing Raph’s gaze over him.

"We must go,” he said, turning to his brothers. “All of us."

Donatello sighed. "I'm allergic to mosquito bites."

Mikey grimaced. "Since when?"

"Since now."

Raphael gave Leo a barely noticeable melancholic smile.

"We aren’t kids anymore. It ain't the end of the world if ya gotta disappear for a bit," he said teasingly.

"Oh, I get it. It's a solo trip," Mikey said, lowering his gaze.

"I won't be far for too long," Leo remarked as if it were a promise.

Donatello scoffed. "We'll survive without you for quite a while. Don't rush to commitment. We know."

At that moment, all he could offer Donnie was a smile. However, as Leo descended from the cargo ship and stepped into the border of the jungle, he finally understood what his brother meant. Taking a deep breath of the fresh, humid air of the greenery, his gaze danced along the flora surrounding him. This was it—the missing piece: nature. The sensation of embracing a certain aspect of himself that could not find fulfillment in the heart of a bustling city.

— – -

It took Leo no more than two months to gradually dismantle the construction site. An appearance here, a couple of blows there, a few noises at night, and a town full of people who convinced the businessmen responsible for the project that the jungle ghost was as tangible as the machinery stripping the trees. And that was it. He could go back after completing the mission.

However, akin to the first time, he stayed. This time not out of fear of not meeting his father’s expectations, but because adulthood had taught him it was okay to take breaks. It was okay for him not to be a leader, an elder brother, or a ninja all the time. It was more than okay to just be Leo.

After another couple of months, plants had claimed the machinery's remains. Some metal pieces still exposed to the sun sparkled, giving it an almost magical touch. The town's inhabitants built a statue resembling an anthropomorphic monk. It wasn't exactly cute, but Leo supposed it was better than revealing his true identity.

Living in the wild brought a new adventure every second, and Leo couldn't stay still. During the day, he collected food and brought it to his old underground hideout, a sort of cenote reflecting sunlight by day and stars at night, with enough space to exist in peace.

With the moon as his guide, he took care of various issues entrusted to him by the community. More than anything, moving heavy objects or patrolling certain areas. Given that most people were elderly, it was understandable.

Feeling free was satisfying. It was nice having a personal sense of purpose, liberated from the weight of carrying a team, and away from the possible repercussions of his decisions. There were no external pressures, no responsibilities beyond those self-imposed, and although there were nights when he missed his brothers, video calls were more than enough, as Donnie had gifted him a high-tech device before he left. Things were far better than alright… until winter wore off.

On the first morning of spring, Leo awoke to a familiar heat rising in his lower belly, prompting a strong urge to relieve the discomfort. He groaned. It only worsened with time. Regardless of the hour of day, he found himself suddenly lost in thoughts about his sexual toys, and all the ways he could be using them. The more he tried to distract himself, the more the memory of the relief they provided infiltrated his every waking moment.

Leo hummed, pressing a hand down his plastron, over the area that ached the most. It was beginning to get pretty sensitive. Bad sign.

Perhaps the villagers wouldn't be alarmed if he missed work for just one night, but as the next night came, and the next, and the next, things showed no sign of improvement. Leo began to feel more than just anxious. To make matters worse, at this point, not even fucking his fist was enough. It helped get his mind clear for the day, but the underskin burning never quite faded.

Leo turned over his leaf-makeshift bed, which now seemed ten times more unpleasant, and tried in vain to suppress the urge to go out and figure out how to make it more comfortable for himself and his ma– Leo snorted at the thought. It was horrible to endure instincts conflicting with rational thought. There had never been such a thing as a 'mate' in his life. A couple of partners, sure, but nothing close to someone who saw him like this. The mere thought of being unable to hold back or keep composure twisted his stomach.

“Fuck—” he sighed under his breath.

His hand closed around his shaft, gripping it deliciously as he moved it fast-paced. Small whimpers fell from his lips, heat spreading through his body. The peak of the season was the worst part of it.

His head fell back as he hissed, hooded eyes locked in the sky as he chased his release. His voice rose more than he'd like as he came loud and long, spilling hot loads all over his plastron.

Leo coughed before catching his breath. He cleansed himself with a rag dampened in cold water, the sensation leaving him slightly dizzy. Every inch of his body ached. As he focused on the soothing coolness, a faint sound of footsteps reached him. He sharpened his hearing; an agitated breath came with it. Someone dared to trespass into his territory.

The mere thought sent anger coursing through his veins, propelling him hastily toward the origin of the sound. He landed with a resounding thud, causing the scattered branches on the ground to snap beneath his weight. The intruder staggered backward. His katana reached their throat, halting mere inches before the tender flesh.

As the moonlight cast its glow, clarity washed over his vision: a woman, draped in an ethereal white fabric, lay sprawled on the ground. The wind carried her scent to his nose, and he instinctively covered his snout with his forearm before retreating, concealing himself behind a sturdy tree. His pupils dilated, taking her in.

"What are you doing here?" Leo rasped.

— – -

You gasped a couple of times before digesting that what you just saw was not human.

It’s okay, you said to yourself, It’s him. It's the same voice, steady, gravelly, and with a hint of sparkle. He who had rescued you so many years ago. He, who took care of everyone in the village. He, to whom the elders held respect and affection. Once you caught your breath, you began to recite long-memorized lines.

"Mighty spirit of the wild, protector of the jungle, I— I have been sent as an oblation for you to do as you please. If that brings you back to our aid."

Leo scoffed, disbelief evident in his expression. "They forced you here?" Anger was palpable in his voice. Perhaps he had been protecting the wrong kind of people.

"No!" you quickly clarified. "I offered myself.”

Your scent was intoxicating: sweet with a hint of spice. He focused on breathing through his mouth.

“Why?”

You gave one step closer, cautiously. “Consider it a payback. For your help to everyone in the village.”

"Payback?" he sneered. “I came back of my own free will. You owe me nothing.”

The urge to approach and tap your cheeks was gnawing at him. Fuck, he hated not to be in his freaking right mind. Hold it, Leo chanted in his mind. Hold it just for one more minute.

"I still want to lend you a hand,” you mumbled. “I- I have worked customer service, so I understand that taking care of other's needs constantly drains energy. I just thought you might want an extra hand."

Why was your voice suddenly so alluring? He huffed, exhausted.

"You offered yourself as a sacrifice bridal because you think I'm burnt out?"

You could hear a certain tension in his voice, stitched with a hint of sass—although, he seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth. Was he in pain?

His tone was harsher than he intended, perhaps due to the embarrassment of enduring his heat in the worst possible way. The branches and dirt cracked under your weight as you approached. Leo tensed, gripping his katana tightly.

“I know I may not have all my screws in place, but I wanted to return the favor for all the times you’ve saved us, that’s all. Help around in any way you see fit, whether it's assisting with chores you're too tired to do or whatever else you wish."

Your voice was as soft as a velvety touch wrapping around him, sensually caressing him like the finest silky fabric. It sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed a gasp when you reached his side. His heart rate surged, echoing through every blood vessel. Leo moved back, the sharp katana once again mere inches away from your face, yet this time, trembling like he wasn't strong enough to hold it.

You raised your hands, palms showing. "But it's up to you. I really don't want to disturb you further."

You observed him wrestling with inner turmoil, his face taut, burdened by indecision.

"You don’t understand what you’d be getting into." His gaze matched the depth of his voice.

"Tell me."

Leo exhaled heavily, whispering, "I'm burning."

He sounded like he was dying.

“Are you sick?”

You took a step closer, and his face became much clearer.

He let out a sort of sardonic laugh. “No.”

Then you saw it: desire blazing bright in his eyes. You took a deep breath, considering. He remained as still as if he was another three in the green landscape. It hit you right there.

"Spring is when the reproductive cycle of life forms begins, isn't it?" you were searching for toned-down words so as not to make him uncomfortable. “That's what's happening to you," you stated, half matter-of-factly, half realizing it.

"Then you understand what it would mean to stay and help me," he said. "So leave. Run back, I'll guard your flank."

You stood your ground, despite your shaky legs. “I'll help.”

“What?” he gasped in disbelief.

“I won't go back as a failure, and I won't let you suffer when you've broken your back to keep us safe. I will help you.” you stated. The resolution in your voice made him shiver.

"You don’t get it," he said, feeling every ounce of self-control slowly dropping off his body.

Shit, he wanted to just accept. Why was he even holding back? Bet you were such a slut, bet you were thinking how would it feel to have your pretty cunt so fucking stretched by his knot.

“I do. You need reli-”

"No, you don't," he snapped. The blue mask framed the gravity of his expression. "When I start, I won’t stop. Not even if you beg, not even if you cry. Is that clear?"

You swallowed hard, your voice carrying a slight tremor as you responded, "Yeah."

"For as long as it lasts, I won't let you leave. You might get hurt... do you understand?"

"Yes," you muttered, finally mustering the courage to slowly push the sword out of the way. He allowed it, his eyes guarded.

You aimed closer, taking one steady step after the other. Your hand reached out until the tips of your fingers finally grazed his plastron. You slid them until the full palm pressed against it. He shivered under your touch, a faint sound escaping his lips. A moan?

There was a different glow in his eyes when he settled them back on you. They shone like he was seeing something beyond. His hand closed around your wrist, pulling you. Your chest crashed against his front, knocking the air out of you. Another mutant hand gripped you tight on the opposite side. His face landed on the crook of your neck. He growled as he took a deep breath before letting out a sigh. You held your breath.

Leo stopped, his agitated breathing inches away from your ear. Raspy, desperate, needy.

"Wait here. I'll come back for you in an hour," he instructed, reluctantly breaking the embrace to hold your face. You moved with him as he seemed to rock you. His forehead was inches away from yours. "This is your chance to flee."

He let go, and as if he were indeed a ghost, he vanished into the shadows of the night.

—--------

You waited until the thin clouds finished traveling the night sky, clearing it entirely, allowing the stars to shine. For a moment, doubt crept in, making you wonder if he would return.

"You stayed," he muttered in disbelief.

You snapped back, scanning for the source of his voice. He landed before you, a smoother descent this time. His demeanor underwent a subtle change, softer and tinted with a hint of nervousness.

"Follow me," he instructed.

You stood up, shook the dirt off the white cloth covering you, and trailed behind him through the vines and bushes. With his sword, Leo skillfully cut through some overly dense branches, making a path for you.

"Where are we going, ghost?"

"To a secluded place," he said. After a brief pause, he added, "My name is Leonardo."

You snorted. He halted, casting a quizzical look over his shoulder.

"Sorry, I was expecting something less... ordinary," you chuckled. "It's a beautiful name; a bit too formal, tho. Can I call you Leo?"

He smirked, resuming his pace. You were easy to talk to, a quality he found comforting. "Sure. So, what's yours?"

You shared your name, and he said it back. “Pretty.”

His voice, along with the praise, made your belly tingle.

He took you to a kind of cenote a couple of meters below. The surroundings stole your breath. Various shades of green foliage reclined on moss, bathed in the glow of a mellow fire dancing near the shore. The light cast the reflection of the water swells upon the walls of earth and rock.

Beyond the flames of the campfire, there was a makeshift… nest? —more resembling leaves intertwined over the mushy moss— stacked beneath a rock bowl. The scent of flowers lingered heavily. There would likely be more than a couple on the seemingly soft pile. It looked like he had been living there for a while.

The feeling of his hands on your sides jolted you. You turned. He was looking down at you, his gaze intense, silently conveying a question, hungered for answers. His teeth clamped together, still in pain, it seemed. You placed your hand over his.

"It's okay. I'm not afraid."

"No?"

Leo cupped your cheek, his fingers gently tapping. It seemed like something he couldn't suppress any longer. In an attempt to reciprocate, you did the same to him, using both hands.

“No.”

It must have struck a nerve because he yanked you from the spot where you stood, practically tossing you into the heap of leaves. He landed above you, a hand behind your head. It was so sudden that it made you dizzy. You clung to the edge of his plastron as he pressed you against it.

Leo caught your mouth. His kiss was deep, fervent, demanding, exuding an almost fuel-ignited heat. His tongue interlaced with yours, and he moaned when you kept up with him.

You gasped for air when he let go. A pang of bolt-like tickles sprouted and spread from your belly through your veins, and they reverberated through every place he explored with open, calloused palms. He dragged his hand across your side, all three fingers groping your breasts ravenously, pinching your nipples above the fabric. You gasped.

Leo carried his kisses to your neck, nibbling at it right over your pulse line, sucking the soft flesh hard enough to make you yelp. That would leave a mark. He grinned over the bruise before finding another spot near it to make another.

You felt his grip over your thighs as one of his hands had somehow found out how to go past that ridiculously long bride-like dress. You embraced him with your legs, pulling him close to your core and arching your back as if you were in heat alike upon feeling his front so tight against your cunt.

He humped over your clothed slit, pushing your legs wider to accommodate himself, after which he thrust again, this time letting out an earnest groan right into your ear. His hot breath against your skin gave you goosebumps.

You whimpered, seeking a place to anchor yourself. Slipping a hand through the top of his shell, you secured yourself to his broad shoulders as he kept grinding on you frantically.

You spread your legs wider in an attempt to feel the friction better. The lower part of his plastron was soaked, and the slimy moisture seeped through your clothing smoothly. It felt so good that you started clenching and unclenching to increase the sensation.

His voice quivered as a hot liquid damped you down, sticking to the clothes. You remained there, fixed as he caught his breath. Leo got up on his knees. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. You could then notice every perfectly formed muscle on his body. Below his belly, his cock was glistening with the slick of the previous cum. His size was not as intimidating as the knot at the base, swollen and somewhat red. He looked almost immaculate.

Leo removed the blue bandana in one swift movement, and in the next, he ripped off the ruined dress off your body. He panted, gaze lusting over your nakedness. His predatory gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

"Such a pretty little cunt," he said with a half-grin on his face. "Not wide enough to fit me, tho. Gotta fix that first."

He pushed your labia open with raspy thumbs before leaning down. You breathed in sharply upon sensing his snout so close. Leo licked a stripe over your slit, steady and soft. You gaped, holding his head with trembling fingers. His tongue was thick, mushy-like. You moaned when he circled it over your clit, before sucking on it. Your hips snapped up, offering as much of yourself as he was willing to take.

Leo lingered there, feasting on your puffy nub. You closed your eyes, head falling back. Soft whimpers and sighs echoed through the place as you squirmed between his arms.

He slid back to your entrance and pushed in, moaning at the taste. After a couple of testing thrusts, he began fucking you with his tongue: sleek, hot, and skilled in a way you weren't prepared for.

You pushed his head deeper into you so your clit would rub against his snout, building an exquisite warmth inside your belly. Leo sensed you tensing under his grip, and he gave until the hot, sweet spasms of your walls told him you were satisfied.

His cock pulsated more with each passing moment, aching to get entirely sucked by your hot insides, and move. But fuck, if Leo retained yet one ounce of self-control, he committed it to ensure he wouldn't harm you that much.

A fine line of saliva followed him for a fraction of a second when he pulled away, panting. He cleaned his face with his palm to then fist his cock, right above the swollen knot. You lifted your legs by pulling them towards you from behind the thighs, gaze thoroughly hypnotized by the sight of him lining with you.

Leo let out a breathy moan as he pushed into you, the heat, the softness, and the sight taking away the last drops of his rational thought.

The stretch stung slightly, but god, other than that, it was heavenly smooth. He bottomed out. Before he even moved, Leo spilled one hot load after the other, brimming you with cum.

“Fuck—,” he panted.

His chin rested on the crook of your neck. Your hands flew to his back, and you caressed his shell lovingly. His breathing evened with each controlled exhalation, yet the grip of his fingers over your flesh hadn't relaxed one scrap. It gave you the impression that he was holding back. Despite his feral desires, on the verge of losing his mind to pure instinct, he remained steadfast in his commitment not to harm you. Your heart melted.

“It's okay. I can take it,” you whispered tenderly, leaning your head over his, embracing him further.

“No, this is— this is enough.” he gritted, voice sore.

“Hey, I don't like giving half-heartedly. I told you it was alright," you told him, but it didn't seem like it was going through his stubborn head. So you changed the tone to try your luck. "Besides, I like how you feel inside me. I bet you'd fuck me so good."

His breath hitched.

You grinned, clenching around his cock. “I bet you’re wondering how it’d feel, if you pushed your cute knot inside me.”

“Stop it.”

“Why?”

“I can’t— “

“Say you don’t want to.” you pulled his face to make him look at you. Hooded eyes bearing such a delightful dark gaze. He was about to snap, just one more small push. “Say you don’t want to breed me so fucking much it drips off my cunt. Say it, and I’ll shut up and let this to your own devices.”

His pupils dilate entirely. "Say that again."

"Breed me so good."

He kissed you at the same time he thrust, setting a frantic pace. His dick felt heavenly. It effortlessly reached the best spot inside you. You kept him pinned in the right place with the clasp of your legs, getting friction over your clit.

He forced the pulsating nub inward, the stretch sent your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Ah— shit, yes. Yes.” he gritted, his voice drunken-like.

Irrepressible moaning streamed like a pretty song as his pace quickened. Leo sounded so fucking hot, relishing the instant. His orgasm triggered your own. Your back arched, and he slipped his arms underneath you, bringing you impossibly near to him as his dick pulsated deliciously, spreading the warmth within him through you.

Leo didn't stop after that. He continued to fuck you until your inner thighs bled from the continuous chafing against the edges of his shell, babbling something about pretty babies with your eyes. He was thoroughly unbound, mind spinning, burning as much as his passion for you.

At some point, reality became a vaporous reflection on tempered glass. You were facing him at one moment, and then next, Leo held you by the hips as he ravished you in doggy style. His groaning, along with the lewd sound of wet skin slapping, anchored you to consciousness just enough to feel him spilling another hot wave of cum.

— – -

You woke up to the soft symphony produced by the combined sounds of the jungle—small animals rustling their wings, the wind whispering through the branches, a distant echo of a bird's song. The sun bathed the water in light, creating small waves that reflected the tranquil movement of the water all around.

Every inch of your body ached so intensely that the mere contemplation of movement welled tears in your eyes. Perhaps it had been too much. When you tried to shift, you felt something wet adhering to the skin of your thighs. Looking down, you found seaweed moistened with a scent that resembled a subtle mix of herbs.

A firm hand caressed your arm, and you tensed. However, the grip was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid to touch you. Slowly, you turned around. There he lay, gazing at you with bright, guilt-filled eyes.

"Good morning."

“Hello,” you greeted back.

"I'm sorry. It was-"

It's okay," you interrupted, placing a hand over his own. "I signed up for it. I told you I'd tough it out. Don't be too hard on yourself."

His gaze softened.

"Yet, I'm sorry I hurt you."

"You followed his gaze toward the area closed off with herbs. Bruises spread underneath. Then you noticed that, except for those bruises, you were pristine, and so was the place where you slept.

"You cleaned me up?"

"I had to do something for you. Although I know it's not enough, it’s a beginning," he said, fluttering the tips of his fingers near the damaged area.

"Thanks. So, is it over, or…?"

"The worst part is, we should be okay as long as someone keeps her mouth in check," he teased.

You chortled. "Sorry, not sorry."

He shared a laugh with you. Just as it subsided, Leo drew you into a tender embrace, snuggling you in a way that set your heart aflutter.

"I'm gonna keep you safe," he whispered.

You froze, a touch overwhelmed by the unexpected affection. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. The moment lingered until a rumble from your stomach shattered the magic. Your cheeks burned bright red. Leo chuckled softly.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

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