#Sings Ballads and Blues

[momomikan]

20240316 Daesung Dlite BIGBANG ballad medley D's Road Fan Day

From: 4K LIVE

[rockybloo]

I need to draw Sweetheart and Bitterbat singing Alicia Key's Diary because it's such a good representation of both them.

Not in terms of the lyrics but how they'd sing in karaoke with Sweetheart being chill and hitting just the amount of notes she needs and Bitterbat throwing limits out the window and just going completely wild with that shit because he got the green light to sing with his girlfriend in a duet and he's not missing a chance to serenade his queen.

[lazy-plankton89]

yuju and her music make me so damn happy

[hershelwidget]

my hand slipped

remember those designs I made for the 5 natural epic wubbox

yeah I did that to my loser gang

also please ignore the two skrunklies on the far right just pretend they’re not there and are not at all important to the lore of this story and also ignore how one looks like Perry and the other looks like Undertow please and thank you

[everydaylouie]

had an idea for a barbershop quartet Hatsune Miku ballad.........

(lyrics below the cut!)

i have a voice

i’ll sing your tune

sing about the sun and stars and moon

but in the end

it’s up to you 

i sing your song

and that’s all that i ever do

every note

is made by you

what’s a blue haired, pigtailed girl to do

in the end

i make no sound

oh the songs i’d sing if you were not around!

i sing your song

all night long

never wrong

but i just sing along…

the tune is done

and I’m a star

i feel so close and yet so very far

in the end

it’s up to you

i sing your song

and that’s all I ever do

[luvtak]

be my valentine, hhj x reader

✧ genre/tw brain melting fluff, just a little moment of being in love with hyunjin and accidently getting covered in paint, kissing, petnames, unedited.

✧ w/c 1156

✧ a/n ginger write something other than fluff challenged: failed. i wrote this inspired by the song valentine by inhaler and the way it makes me feel as well as the fact that hyunie deserves to have a very sweet love story <3 i hope you like it!!

Looking at him was as painful as the song’s he chose: he was so bright and incandescent that even in small domestic moments like this one,  filled your life with an almost harmful glow. Like a star, he was burning fast and bright and sometimes it felt like he would burn right through you. 

He was gorgeous and funny, and he was all yours. 

It’s an interesting thought, the fact that this independent and lone star would see you and pick you out of a million souls. An unforgettable moment, the way his eyes glanced down at you when he asked to dance–sultry and cool, and unbelievably sweet. 

He looks a bit like that now; paint covering his lifted hands, sweeping over the plains of his cheek to swipe the dark hair out of his eyes. Glancing at you over his painting, a work in progress you were not allowed to see–a valentines present, he said. The look gleaming off him pressed an ache right into your tummy.

 Gazing at him always felt like a gut punch; A tornado of butterflies reaching from his outstretched hands right into your middle. 

The music playing from his phone is melancholy, a slight betrayal to the smile eclipsing his lovely face. As it plays, he sings along, following the woeful melody with that out of place grin. 

“Hyunie, why are you always listening to such sad songs?” it’s a question you’ve asked a hundred times, and always received a different answer, but this time he only shrugs. You know it's hard for him to respond when he’s painting–focused only on the glide of his brush and the mixing of colors. Reds, blues, greens, etc. shades ranging everywhere from chartreuse to periwinkle, mixing and matching with a wave of his hand. 

“Sad songs are only sad if you are,” he answers late. “Like this one, only the melody is sad, the rest is happy.” 

You try to listen closer, see the music from his eyes, but ultimately the ballad still feels melancholy. Lilting notes piling on top of each other and easing the words, it reminds you of him… the graceful way it speeds up and slows down ; passionate and intimate, beautiful and sad. 

Being unable to admit this to him, you smile, the kind of smile that turns Hyunjin’s knees to jelly and stomach to storms. Secretly, he loves you the most this way: cozy and undone. He has sketches piled up of these moments, you with a book/you cloud watching/laughing with your friends. He adores you, even if he can tell that you don’t like his songs, that you think they’re too sad and wilty. You’re a crescendo of a person, loud and certain, and the music you like follows that. But he can’t help but love you more for listening to him, cuddled up on that tiny chair (surely uncomfortable) just so he can have a bit of company. 

“You look so pretty over there, sweetheart.” Shocked by the shift in his tone you release a nervous giggle and you can feel yourself beginning to warm up. Not like this is unusual behavior for your boyfriend–he’s romantic and glaringly in love with you always, but something about the environment… this tiny room, this beautiful boy (hair pushed back, smile blazing) sends shivers down your spine. 

Laughing, he sets his paintbrush down and wipes his paint-stricken hands off before moving closer. Only taking four steps before he’s in front of you, hands going to your face, hovering gently over the skin of your cheekbones. He never presses down, afraid to dirty your skin with the still green paint on his palms, but the way he’s looking at you gives the illusion that he’s touching you. Raking over your features like a starving man in a desert, lifting from your lips back up to your wide eyes. 

He’s consuming you and yet he’s done nothing. 

You can feel the heat of him, warm palms heating your face almost as much as your nerves. You’ve been together so long now, spent days and months and years becoming intimately aware of his body heat, yet you still feel that familiar shyness creeping up–leading to you biting the side of cheek in hopes of lessening the nerves. 

It’s only when he sees this, you so flustered in front of him, that his hands settle over the side of your jaw. Protective and gentle in his hold, and his crescent shaped eyes smiling at you. Calloused fingers rubbing down your neck, slowly to ease your butterflies. 

“I have them too.” he whispers, and your hands come to his chest, sitting where you know his heart is; beating quicker than you thought possible. How is it that you’re both so nervous? You’ve loved and lost together, know each other more intimately than anyone before, and yet just the sight of him conjures up the nastiest case of jitters. “Gimme a kiss, my love.” He giggled. 

You kiss him once, twice, then three times–kisses that are barely there, mostly just smiles pressed together, lips slightly entwined before releasing–until his hands snake around your waist and pull you closer. Your bodies held against each other like magnets, so close and yet never close enough. He kisses you slowly this time, taking control and easing you into it, lips lingering on yours before moving. Like all things, his kiss is sweet, and he tastes like the dessert you shared earlier: sugary and tart. 

When you move away, foreheads pressed together and lungs heaving, his eyes are still closed. And for one moment you can truly see what you do to him–leaving him breathless and rosy. When his eyes open, hazy and lovestruck, you can’t help but to tell him: 

“Hyunjin, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” your voice is hoarse, heart racing inside your chest and you love him. You love him so much you can’t be mad about that paint on your skin, or the uncomfortable itch of his hair scratching your cheeks. 

In response he takes your hand from his shoulder and kisses your palm, right over your love line. High and close to your pinky, you read once that meant you’d have an intense and passionate relationship… maybe it was silly, but you can’t help thinking it must be true, and what a wonderful thought that is. That from the minute you were born you were destined for him; meant to grow up and meet him, to love and be loved in the truest fashion. 

You hope it’s true. 

He kisses you again before going back to his painting, shyly laughing at the sight of you disheveled and covered in paint. He locks in again, focused on colors and shapes, and looks at you one more time, cuddled up and still reeling from the affection, and smiles brighter than any star as he tells you, 

“You’re the most beautiful too.” 

© LUVTAK

[saberlight1]

oaths & songbirds — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of violence and ptsd, trauma, slight toxic and possessive snow, Y/N usage, standard hunger games warnings.

authors note: hiii!! i’m glad you all enjoyed part 1 to this story, it is linked here, and part 3 is here. i loved the ballad and coriolanus & lucy gray’s chemistry and relationship was so beautifully displayed, i had to write about it. also, the song Y/N sings is linked here, the girl singing is how i imagine her to sound. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

masterlist

The bright blue sky had faded into orange and pink, you and the Covey all now scattered around the land. Maude and Lucy Gray sat on the dock, feet in the water as they sang random melodies they came up with, Issac sitting behind them drumming along with a beat.

That left you and Coryo, who were laid together on a blanket under a tree, in each other’s arms. You laid in his lap, his arms wrapped around you, a warm feeling in the both of you chest’s. You softly sang a song to him— one you had recently came up with.

In the time of the harvest, the leaves fallin’ down.

I held what my true love could reap from the ground.

But the bounty of a garden can all rot away,

Without love and protection and a hard will to stay.

I’ll never have a garden again.

Where I fall to my knees and work with the land.

Now I’m just prayin’ with two dirty hands.

I’ll never, no, never have a garden again.

You finished the song with a breath, your hands going to nervously fidget.

“Your singing is beautiful.” Coryo whispered. “Did you write that?”

“Yeah, I did.” You softly smiled. “It’s not done, but I came up with it the other night.” You looked up, hearing the mockingjay’s repeat the melody you had sang.

Coryo followed your gaze. “I’ve never seen those type of birds before.”

“Mockingjays, as we call ‘em, or as Lucy Gray does.” You explained, smiling at the thought of your beloved cousin.

“Well, I like it so far. Your songs are always beautiful.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss your nose.

You giggled, your hand going up to grab him to connect your lips. You exchanged a passionate kiss, the boy always kissing you like you were his air. He slowly broke apart, leaving small pecks on your lips before he pulled you closer.

“I wish it could be like this all the time,” You sighed.

“Me too, baby.” He brushed some hair out of your eyes, studying you for a moment. “It could be… if you came to the Capitol—”

“No, Coryo.” You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “I mean out here. In nature, away from it all. I don’t want to go back to the Capitol ever again. I don’t belong there.”

He deflated, shaking his head. “Y/N, you know I have to go back eventually..”

A breath of air left your lips, his words leaving you frowning. “I know,” your eyes casted downwards, away from his.

He bent down slightly, leaving a kiss on your lips. “I’m not gone yet, my songbird. I’m still here,”

His actions brought a small smile to your face, as your hands came up to grip his lovingly. “I.. I’m sorry I make things difficult. I’m torn, Coryo. I don’t want to be without you, but I refuse to live that life in the Capitol.”

“You don’t make things difficult, my love. I understand. You were brought up out here, it‘s your home.” He muttered, staring into your eyes with a loving gaze. “I will figure it out— We will. Don’t worry, baby.” He left another kiss on your lips, this one longer and washing all of your worries away. When you pulled back for air, the boy turned to dig in his bag, turning back to you with an orange shawl in his hand.

“What’s this?” You asked, sitting up and turning to him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, passing it to you. “It was my mother’s, and I’d like for you to have it.”

“Oh, Coryo,” You smiled, clutching it. “Thank you, really.” You brought up to your nose, inhaling deeply. “Mm, still smells like roses.”

He smiled down at you with adoration.

“I’ll take good care of it, I promise. Thank you, sweetheart.” You said, your accent showing. “You must miss your family so much out here.”

“I do.” He answered. “I worry about them all the time.”

“…Would you really go back, though?” You met his eye again. “If you could,”

“I have to, it’s where I belong. Like how you belong out here.”

You nodded, breaking your eye contact. “Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry.” Your gaze turned back to the water in front of you.

“Hey..” He scooted closer to you.

You shook your head. “What if this was our life, Coriolanus?” You asked, and his attention was immediately on you with the use of his actual name. “Out here, waking up whenever. Catching our own food, living out by the lake— I mean, would you still feel the need for the Capitol even then?” You further went on, urging him to listen to you.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Lucy Gray called with a giggle, causing the pair of you to break apart. “C’mere! CeCe and Issac caught dinner!” She waved, as Issac held up some fish they had caught.

You sighed, shaking your head once again at Coryo before you stood up to join them, Coriolanus on your tail.

As the night went on, the previous worries were now in the back of your mind as you sang a song with Lucy Gray, a smile on your face.

However, as Coriolanus watched you, the same worries were front and present in his mind. In fact, he couldn’t think of anything else. He knew somehow, someway he had to convince you to come with him. He couldn’t leave you behind, not again.

He didn’t know if you’d still be here when he got back.

‘What if this was our life, Coriolanus? Would you still feel the need for the Capitol, even then?’ Your past words ringing in his ears as his smile dropped. If he didn’t lure you in soon, you’d fly away with the mockingjays into the wind, never to be his again.

He couldn’t have that.

[cassayeee]

IN THE FALLING SNOW (CORIOLANUS SNOW X FEM!READER)

warnings: this contains spoilers for The Ballads of Songbirds and Snakes, so read at your own risk. furthermore, this is smut - coriolanus snow smut. expect porn with a bit of plot, degradation, spitting, throat fucking, p in v, virginity taking, oral (m and f receiving), marking, idk just all of that good stuff. point is: mdni.

notes: this is like, really quickly proofread (and almost 8k words lol oops) , so apologies for any grammatical mistakes that pop up. also, this is the first time I've ever actually written smut so bear with me here. anyway, enjoy!

You were probably one of the only souls in Panem that knew the truth about the Snows. Shrouded in deceit of their true wealth status and fear of the truth being sung across the Capitol, you held onto their secret more closely to your chest than any of your own.

Having grown up on the Corso, practically next-door neighbors to the Snows in a penthouse befitting your own status, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be caught spending time between yours and the cousins almost every day. So much time, that the high society of the Capitol could almost always count on the L/N’s and Snow’s appearing at any event with the other in tow.

That was, of course, until the rebellion. While your parents had decided on siding alongside the president, the Snow’s had decided on another course, driving a wedge right through the once unbreakable bond between the two. And once the bombings had come and gone, you still had all your affluence and one less mother, but the Snow’s had found themselves even worse off.

However, you and Coriolanus Snow didn’t let any of that deter your own relationship.

---

“Coryo! Come on! Punctuality is a dish best not served cold.” You jeered over to your friend who had just exited his front door onto the wide and ever-expanding avenue.

His blue eyes locked onto your own as he made his way over to your car, the Avoxes in the front seat doing nothing more than staring straight ahead, ready to make the trip over to the Academy. As he entered, you made note of his blouse that could only have been touched by Tigris’ clever hand.

“Wow. Did Tigris do this for you? It’s beautiful.” Snow watched you dote on his reaping attire as he nodded ‘yes’ to your question.

“It was one of my father’s.” he finally replied as you contently sat back further into your family car’s seat.

“So,” you started. “How are you feeling about your mentorship for the Games this year?”

He raised a brow at you as he pondered your question. “In all honesty, I’m just hoping for a good tribute selection. 1 or 2 would be preferable, but even 4 or 11 would suffice. Someone with a chance of succeeding, I suppose.”

You inclined your head through his reasoning. It made sense, you had always known Coryo to be a competitive man – wanting nothing more than the control to make things go as he pleased.

“Well, with your charm and wits, I’m sure you could make any contender into a victor.”

---

And, oh, how right you were. Watching your Coryo more than triumph over his mentorship and even getting his tribute to win the Hunger Games had your own pride swelling in turn. This was all he ever wanted. To have his reputation goldened and his University spot secured, you couldn’t wait to see how he would blossom in the coming years.

What you were less than happy about, however, was how closely he and that District 12 girl had become. Sharing a picnic in that rat-infested zoo? Going to her for problems that he used to come to you about? Oh, your ego took a bruising after that.

Was she there for him after he lost his parents? No.

Was she there for him as his fortune declined? No.

Was she there to sneak food over to him to make sure the family didn’t die from starvation? No.

Was she there to hold him at night when he couldn’t sleep even after attempting to find solace in his mother’s compact? No.

What did she do? Sing a little song and twirl in her rainbow dress? Oh, please. You knew a flirt when you saw one, and did she ever fit the bill.

A part of you had even hoped that she died in the Games. Easy. Out of their lives forever and what was the biggest problem after that? Getting Coryo to University? With a little convincing you were sure you could’ve gotten your own father to sponsor him. Really, he needed to get over his little conviction with the Snow’s. It’s not like he didn’t owe Crassus more than that.

But besides that, you felt like you were losing your best friend. Had you been in love with him for years hoping he’d return your affections? Of course. Were you perfectly comfortable staying his friend and supporting him even so? I mean, not really, but sooner or later he would have realized that you were all he’d ever need.

If only that stupid little songbird would just fly away.

---

Arriving home from the Academy after the end of the Games, your feelings were twisted in a knot. More than anything you just wanted to climb into your room and sulk or find a way to get your father to cause an “accident” for that Lucy Gray Baird on her way back to 12, whatever would be more appealing at the time.

But, you knew you had to get over to the Snow’s to congratulate Coryo. Jealousy aside, you were still so proud of all he’d done and wanted to make sure he knew that.

Once you entered the penthouse, Tigris greeted you with a big smile and an even bigger hug.

“Oh, Y/N,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe he actually did it!”

You couldn’t help but fall further into her hug, genuinely happy in her arms. She was right. You were being selfish thinking about him and the girl at a time like this. Tomorrow you could be bitter all you want, but tonight, tonight was about Coriolanus Snow.

Helping her and the Grandma’am set up their old party favors and arranging the cake you brought over for him, you couldn’t help but wait for his arrival. Not being part of the mentorship, you had left as soon as the Games concluded allowing for Coryo to debrief with his fellow members and any newscasters looking for an interview.

Hearing the door turn, you all jumped up in celebration as you saw him enter. Noticing immediately that something was wrong with him, you dropped your arms as he burst into tears. Shocked, you started to make your way over to him as he ran into your arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he began to tell you about Highbottom and the Games.

And that’s when your world came crashing down around you.

---

You found yourself in Coryo’s room as he had his head placed in your lap, arms wrapped tight around your legs as you ran your hands through his hair. A position the two of you hadn’t found yourselves in for quite some time, but one that you both found nothing but comfort in.

“Maybe they’ll change their minds. Realize that losing you as a Capitol citizen is more a punishment onto themselves than for you.” You attempted to reason with him. To give him any sort of hope.

He only turned his head in your lap to face you. “Maybe if Highbottom didn’t hate me, but this feels more personal than even just being caught for cheating.”

“What about Gaul?” you tried, combing through his curly locks. “She seemed to have really taken a liking to you with all that extra essay work and singling you out whenever she could.”

“Gaul is certifiably insane and even more like her mutations than you’d realize.” He rebuked. “No, she wouldn’t even let me into the Citadel to try and reason with her. This is my only option.”

You both were silent for a stretch until you broke the silence with a hiccup. Feeling your body start to shake, Coryo rose from your lap to see you silently crying into your free hand. He reached for your head to bring into his chest, allowing you to release your emotions onto him.

“Oh, my Y/N.” The way he softly cooed your name made you latch your arms around him and cry even harder.

With a break in your hysterical state, you retreated your head away from his now tear-stained shirt and looked up at him.

“I don’t want you to go.” You confessed. “I want you to stay here. With Tigris. With the Grandma’am. With me. Please.”

His gaze softened while studying your features. He brushed back your slightly sweaty hair from your forehead as he placed a loving kiss upon it. You closed your eyes in the tender moment, never wanting it to end.

“I’ll always come back to you.” He asserted. “I promise.”

Trying your best not to lose your composure again, you buried yourself back into him, hiding your face from view. Tangling yourselves together, you attempted to find a semblance of sleep in his embrace, knowing that this may be the last intimate moment you get with him in years.

Eyes falling shut and breathing becoming labored, Coryo watched as you drifted asleep in his arms. His Y/N. His beautiful, intelligent, loyal Y/N. He knew he should have kissed you before. Told you that he’d only ever want to fall asleep in your arms, no matter what the news made of his and Lucy Gray’s relationship. But the good man in him knew that would have just made things worse for you, after he left, and he needed you to stay strong and become the powerful woman you were born to be.

And the not-so-good man in him reveled at the fact that you would always ache for more from him. Waiting until he returned. Loyal until the end. And if he returned to see you with someone else? Well, that would be sure to be remedied quickly. Because, as you were both severely aware, Snow lands on top.  

---

It had been months since you’d last seen him. And every day still hurt as much as the last. While you did receive letters from him, it was never the same as having him here. In person. Across the avenue and readily available at your beck and call.

With the worsening state of the Grandma’am and Tigris’ situation, you tried to help as much as you could, but your father strictly forbade anymore spending on the two after Coryo’s departure. He even threatened to send you to the Citadel for a “long-term internship” if only to keep you away. So, all you could do was watch the further deterioration of your family.

On a late day in September, you and your father were preparing to leave for the University for a pre-semester gala, attended by those in current attendance, and new studies joining in just a few days.

You smoothed down your blood-red, pin-straight formal gown, backless with a slit rising just up to your upper thigh, viewing yourself in your large vanity mirror white fixing your satin gloves. A tulle train adorned the back of your gown, wrapping around your waist and sparkling slightly with the gems attacked throughout it. Not as eccentric as some of the other Capitol citizens, you kept a rather minimalistic style, but you looked good, like, really fucking good. Hair styled in an intricate updo and makeup accentuating your features, you couldn’t help but enjoy your reflection. What was wrong with a bit of self-indulgence?

It’s not that you would describe yourself as vain or vapid, but rather know the worth in your own beauty. If you were to be a woman in a wolf-den of men, playing to your strengths and charms would be the only way to get anywhere, besides your self-assured intelligence, of course.

Breaking you out of your trance, you heard your father call from the foyer that the car had made itself around and was ready to depart. Taking a deep breath and checking your appearance once more, you began your trek into the snake pit.

---

Just as you had suspected, the hall was full of high-class society goers, along with many of the staff and faculty of the University. This was your time to solidify past Academy connections as well as create new ones as the environment called for. Knowing people was everything. And knowing people liked you was even better.

Making your rounds with your father, you stopped to chat with some of his associates and peers to begin your night. Already growing bored with the conversation, you stopped a passing Avoxes to grab a glass of posca to solicit a light buzz, making the night infinitely better.

Excusing yourself from the group to take a breather of business talk, you began to make your own way around to speak to some of your fellow Academy graduates among some influential figures in the University.

Currently speaking to Hilarius Heavensbee, the two of you were catching up on what you had both done after graduation, among small talk of the hushed Hunger Games.

“No, my parents were still pissed that my tribute only made it to 8th place, but how was that my fault?” he exclaimed. “The girl was already on her deathbed by the time she made it into the arena, and I couldn’t send her a miracle on a drone.”

You giggled at his exasperated state, slightly because of the posca you still sipped on.

“At least you got to mentor,” you bemused. “Fucking Persephone Price beat me out for a spot, so all I had was a good seat and an ability to bet.”

“Oh?” he said in a teasing lilt. “And did you place any bets my way, Y/N?”

You caught his eyes looking you up and down in a lustful gaze. You were always friendly with Hilarius back in the Academy, but never entertained much more than that, since your heart had always belonged to him.

But, as your body grew warm with the posca and need to feel wanted, you couldn’t help yourself from taking a small step closer to Hilarius, though still a respectable distance given the circumstances, while you dedicated a small giggle to him.

“Now, Hilarius,” you remarked. “If you wanted me to place my bets on you, you should have given me a little bit more to work with.”

He rolled his eyes at your slight jab, even knowing you were only teasing.

“Just because my tribute didn’t know how to please a crowd, doesn’t mean I don’t.”

The slight innuendo didn’t slip past you even in your hazy state. If anything, it only caused you to peer at him through your long lashes, blinking slowly as you licked your bottom lip. Before either of you could speak again, a murmur rushed through the crowd as you noticed people staring toward the entrance of the room. Turning to see what the commotion was about, you almost let the glass slip through your hands as you saw him staring right at you.

Standing shocked and immovable, all you could see was him, completely forgetting about Hilarius and your prior engagement. It was as if the commune around you was nothing more than a backdrop to your reunion. You watched as he greeted faculty and society members alike, never moving from your spot as he continuously flicked his eyes over to you.

He was back. Your Coryo was actually here. Suited in a black ensemble, he looked more handsome than you even remembered. How was that possible? He didn’t say anything in his last letter about returning home. Last you remember, he was still waiting back on his officer test results, so why the fuck is he at the University gala?

Whether it took minutes or hours, you kept your spot and waited for him to make his way over. And as soon as his full attention was on you, you couldn’t tell if you were going to sob, faint, or both at once. Long strides took him over to you, where he tilted his head down to view your frame.

Still stuck in a stupor, the best you could get out was, “H-hi.”

His mouth quirked up in a half-smile as he returned his own “Hello, Y/N.”

Your name flowing from his lips finally broke you out of the shocked state you were in as you grabbed his hand and made your way over to one of the balconies hidden behind a large curtain. With the fresh air giving you some reprieve from the heat your body was melting in, you enclosed him in a hug burying your face in his chest. Inhaling his rose scent, all your nerves relaxed. Something only he could ever do.

“Oh, Coryo,” you sighed. “I missed you so much. Every single day I missed you. What are you doing here? Why are you –“ Finally looking up to face him, all you saw was anger painted on his face.

Furrowing your brows, confusion clouded your features as you couldn’t understand why he was looking at you like that.

Jaw ticking, he stayed silent.

“Coryo?” you cooed like a child in trouble.

Something about the way you spoke his name finally had him relaxing his muscles, but still had a hard gaze on you. Quickly looking back over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking your way, he walked you backward toward the rail of the balcony. Arms on either side of you, he closed you in so that the only thing you could see was him.

“I get home,” he started. “Expecting nothing but a warm welcome from my dear Y/N, and what do I see? You looking at that Heavensbee trash like you wanted him to fuck you. Like you wanted him to touch what is mine.”

Surprise crossed your face as you placed your hands on the lapels of his suit jacket.

“W-What?” you stuttered. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Y/N. You think I don’t know what you were trying to do with him? Don’t forget who knows you better than you know yourself.”

He looked at you with a mixture of disgust and thinly veiled hate, like he wasn’t happy to see you at all. Like he didn’t miss you at all.

And you got mad.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Coriolanus.” You spat his name. “As it so happens, I’m a woman with womanly needs, and seeing as I can do as I please, I could go home with him right now and there wouldn’t be a thing you could do about it.”

He sneered at you with a laugh that had no hint of humor behind it. Tightening his grip on the rails he lowered his head down to your ear as you sucked in a quick breath of air at his closeness.

“Oh, Y/N,” he muttered. “You and I both know he’s not what you want. He just wants to get his dick wet and you, love, want mine shoved down your throat.”

Trying your best not to let him get to you, you utterly failed as a tiny whimper escaped the back of your throat and your thighs began to rub together.

Chuckling, Coryo lifted his head again to view your disheveled state. He caressed your neck with a callused hand, rubbing his thumb across your soft spot before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling your mouth close to his.

“He will not have you, Y/N L/N. You are solely mine, and whether I have to speak it, fuck it, or brand it into you, you will remember that. Now,” he released his grip on you. “Say your goodbyes, besides that imbecile Heavensbee, acquire your coat and meet me outside so I can finally stop this tiring back-and-forth and take what is rightfully mine.”

Pure lust layering over any coherent thoughts, all you could do was nod as you smoothed back down your dress and hoped that the cool air was helping your reddened cheeks from becoming too noticeable. Telling your father, you weren’t feeling well, he allowed you to take the car home and let you retire early for the night. Unknowingly to him, Coryo Snow followed you into the vehicle, one hand firmly planted on your bare thigh the entire ride.

---

Between the University to now, your heart rate had increased significantly from Coryo’s actions. You weren’t sure what exactly had gotten into him or what had happened to him since you last said your goodbyes, but the aggressiveness he showed you was an extreme you had never seen before.

Though, you couldn’t really be upset. After all, he had finally admitted to you what you had wanted to hear for almost two decades: he wanted you. And that excited you to no end.

As Coryo watched you fiddle in your seat, he couldn’t help but smirk thinking about how you were acting for him. A few sentences and you were reduced to mush in his hands, willing to do anything to get him back to your room. And it’s not like he was any better.

After his extravaganza in District 12, he realized just how much you meant to him. None of those deplorable District filth specimens could hold a candle to you. His Y/N. His pretty girl who would do anything for him and who he would do anything for.

How it angered him to see you talking to Heavensbee – like he was worth even a glance from you. You were supposed to wait for him, to be a good little girl, and refuse any suitors who tried to have their way with you. And you, you with your ‘womanly needs’ like anyone else would be able to take care of you like he could. No. No, he would make sure that after tonight you would remember who the fuck owns you.

---

After dismissing your driver, you made your way into the penthouse across from the Snows, opening the door and removing your coat, gloves, and shoes at the entrance. Coryo followed suit by unbuttoning his jacket and slipping off his loafers right by yours. Together. Yours and his – as they always should be.

Turning back around to face him, you saw the anger had faded a bit from his features, but a crease still lined in between his brows. He raised his hands to cup your face as he lowered his lips to yours.

This is heaven and I’m dead, you thought to yourself, still in disbelief that this was happening to you. You grabbed his own face in return with newfound enthusiasm as he groaned into your mouth, happy to have you reciprocating his own unhinged lust.

Tongues battling for dominance, you felt him tip your head upwards so he could completely devour your mouth – no question that he was the one in charge. Whimpering into him, he broke the kiss for just a second to see your fluttering eyelids open to him. Blue eyes peering down at you, he gripped open your jaw, spitting into your mouth.

“Swallow.” He commanded. And you happily obliged.

Placing his mouth on yours once more, he lowered himself to grip you behind the knees and lifted you around his waist. Dutifully responding, you wrapped your legs around as he began the trek to your bedroom, spit drooling from both your mouths as if you never wanted to be free from the other.

As he entered your room, you were becoming hotter by the second, needing to get this damned dress off of you. As he set you down on the edge of the bed, his nimble fingers reached behind you to slowly pull the straps down your arms, drawing out the action. He removed his mouth to quickly reattach it to your shoulder, following the line of your dress removal.

Getting to your elbows, you swiftly pulled your arms from between the strap openings, bearing your chest to him. Dilated eyes latched onto your breasts, with his mouth ferociously following suit. You moaned loudly into the room, encouraging him to latch his lips onto your nipple, running his teeth along the perked bud. Not wanting to leave one unattended, he lifted his hand to squeeze and tease your other breast, switching between the two as he saw fit.

“Fuck,” he groaned out as he pulled away. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You whined at the confession. Wanting more, more, more of him. He chuckled.

Finally, slipping the rest of your dress from your body, Coryo growled as you saw you had no undergarments on. The amusement all lost from his face.

He slid his hand around your throat, putting a light amount of pressure on it as he pushed you into the bed. Your own hands went to grip around his wrist, hoping to relieve yourself somewhat of the constraint.

“The fuck, Y/N. What,” he snarked. “Are you some District whore begging for any scrap of dick you can get? Huh? Is that it?”

You attempted to shake your head as he still held you by the neck. “No?” he bemused. “Because walking around with this pretty pussy out on display doesn’t seem like something a Capitol purebred does.”

“Please, Coryo,” you squeaked out. His words were getting to you, along with the pressure still being applied to your neck, adding to your growing wetness. Attempting any chance at receiving friction, you rubbed your thighs together, drawing his eyes down to your ministrations.

“Awe,” he tutted. “Does my sweet little whore need some relief? Is that it?”

He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your impatient nod to come. As it did, he removed his hands from your throat. Feeling your release, you sat up to watch as he unbuttoned his dress shirt in front of you.

“Hmm. And what makes you think you deserve it?” He continued undoing each of the buttons while he raised a brow waiting for your reply.

You looked at him with a pout, widening your legs apart to give him a good view of your glistening pussy.

“Please, Coryo,” you begged once more. “I promise I’ve been good to you. Never even touched another man. Only ever thought of you. Only ever wanted you.”

He discarded his shirt as he listened to your own confessions.

“Only ever me?” he started working on his belt. “Tell me, love, did you think of me when you touched that dirty pussy at night? When you’d fuck yourself on your own fingers, disappointed they couldn’t fill you up enough?”

You were practically salivating at his words, voraciously shaking your head in agreement. You watched as he slipped his pants and socks off, only standing before you in his briefs. Looking low, you could see the bulge hiding behind the article of clothing, just begging to be set free.

Rising to rest on your knees, you looked up to him, eyes urging him to come closer. Doing as you so preciously asked, he towered over you, caressing your face. You practically purred in his hands, nuzzling further into them.

With your own hands free, you started palming at his covered cock. Coryo closed his eyes, pushing himself further into your reach. Enjoying the way you were making him feel, you felt the overwhelming urge to show him just how much you missed him.

“I want to taste you.” You pleaded to him, and his eyes immediately shot to yours as you began lowering the waistband of his trousers. He had an amused look on his face once more, watching his adorable little unsullied pet want to please him. With zero reservations, he let you do as you pleased.

With newfound confidence, you set his aching cock free. It stood straight like a good soldier –  with an angry red tip that was begging for your orders. He was larger than anything you previously experienced – not that you’d ever admit that to your Coryo. However, you didn’t actually get much further than oral activities with your former rendezvous’, hoping and praying that Coryo would be the one to truly mark your body as his. And thank fuck for that.

Bringing your attention back to your current situation, precum was pooling at the tip as you wet your lips in hunger. Gripping the base, you brought your mouth down to give kitten licks to savor his arousal, slowly starting to pump his cock in your hand. He groaned as you continued to give him just enough for stimulation, but not enough to bring him closer to that sweet relief.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Y/N.” he snarled. Grinning at his behavior, you finally enclosed your mouth around his member, eliciting a low moan from him as you took what you could into your throat. Slurping and sucking, the lewd sounds you were making only drove him further towards release.

Wanting to be good for him – only him – you hollowed your cheeks to attempt to take all those lovely eight inches from top to bottom. Breathing through your nose and working your way closer to the hair at the base of his dick, Coryo lost all semblance of his self-control as you sheathed his entire length in your mouth.  

Tearing your already loosening hair free from its previously styled updo, he replaced the pins and trinkets with his own hand, wrapping the strands around and pulling your head back so he could fuck into it.

“Fucking hell. Should’ve –“ He took a deep breath as your throat constricted around him. “Fuck. Should’ve done this years ago. You feel so good.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations bringing him even closer to that sweet peak. Letting him do as you pleased, tears pooled in your eyes from the abuse, but you loved every second of it. Having him lose his precious control around you was the biggest prize you could win.

And all that control was lost in the moment he finally hit his peak. Shoving his dick as far as he could into your mouth, he released every last drop of his spend into you. As he pulled out of you, you greedily swallowed everything he left in your spit-riddled mouth.

Coming down from his high, he flared his nose at you, watching you gulp up any remnants of his seed. He quickly gripped your jaw and pulled you close to his face. Aching from the brutal pace of his hips and now the snake-like vice he had on you, your jaw would sure to be sore for the next couple of days. Yet still, you whimpered up at him.

“Who else did you let do that to you?” Shaking your head, you tried to plead in your actions that you hadn’t – not trusting your own voice to keep your lies hidden. He would know as soon as you opened your mouth anyway.

“No one? You expect me to believe that?” He was growing angrier by the second. “Do you take me for a fool, Y/N?”

“No!” you immediately pleaded. You never wanted him to think you thought ill of him – not when he was your whole world.

“Then tell me.” His hold tightened. “Tell me so I can fucking ruin their meaningless lies for ever touching what doesn’t belong to them.”

You tried to shake your head again, but he held you still. His eyes bore into your own waiting for a reply. Realizing you weren’t going to mislead him any longer, you caved.

“Felix and Pup.” With eyes narrowing, his mouth lifted into a furious grimace. He threw your head backward as you hit the mattress in a puff. You took a deep breath and watched as he began to kneel on the floor by your bed, gripping under your thighs and pulling you until you hit the edge of the bed.

Inches away from your cunt, you could feel his maddened huffs of hot air escape from his mouth and onto you. Running a single finger through your slick, you gasped at the stimulation and threw your head back. Your fingers tangled in the sheets of your bed.

“You let those ignorant, dull bastards touch you?” He spat out. You lifted your head just enough to look at him before you felt him continue to play with your growing wetness, causing you to drop your head back down once more.

Not knowing what to say, you just continued to lay there, hoping that he’d continue to give you any sort of friction on your pleading pussy. Unamused by your silence, he stopped his musings and leaned back. You groaned into the air as you rose your head again.

“Yes.” You admitted. “But it didn’t mean anything! Please, Coryo. You know I’ve only ever needed you.” Attempting to play into his ego, you hoped that he would just get over it and go back to touching you.

“Yeah?” he said, still not touching you. “Then why should I even bother with a slut like you? Whoring yourself out to anyone who looks at you, huh?”

Getting fed up with still not being touched you threw your legs around his head, locking them at the ankles. Glaring down at him, he looked entertained at your angry state, even while still being in his own.

“Yeah?” you mocked back. “And what about you, Coriolanus?”

He raised a brow at your words, silently allowing you to continue your taunt.

“Whoring yourself out to District trash? At least I had the decency to suck a clean dick. What did you expect when you were running around with your precious little –“

Rolling your eyes back, your words died on your tongue as his own ran a strip up your now dripping pussy. Your legs attempted to close around his head, but his large, veined hands kept them apart.

Forgetting about whatever it was that you were mad about before, you started rubbing yourself on his face, whimpering every time his nose caught your clit. Without warning, he entered one of his long fingers into your hole, caressing your innermost parts.

“Fuck, Coryo,” you moaned out as your hands gripped onto the short strands of curls that were starting to return after his Peacekeeper days. Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger – curling it to reach a spot that you’d never been able to find yourself.

He suckled on your clit as he pumped faster, and you grew closer to your own climax. Squelching noises bounced around the room as your arousal pooled around his fingers – so, so, so close to a release.

“Please, Coryo. I’m going to –“ Before you could even finish the sentence, he withdrew his fingers from your heat.

“What the fuck.” You growled out, furious at the loss of your orgasm. But you couldn’t stay mad. Not when he was currently licking his fingers clean, eyes filled with pure bliss. Already, you could feel yourself growing wetter at the sight.

Popping his fingers out of his mouth, he rose to cage you onto the bed. He looked down on you as his arms were planted firmly on either side of you. He tilted his head, seemingly pleased by your struggles.

“Oh, love. Did you think I was going to let you come anywhere but on my cock?” He brought his head down close to your head, licking a stripe up from the base of your neck to the lobe of your ear. You shivered in delight.

“No, my dear. I’ve waited far too long for this to let that beautiful moment go to waste.” He spoke softly to you. “Though, while I do sit with the anticipation of how your release may taste on my tongue, I have the whole night for that. Along with the rest of our lives.”

Coryo softly caressed your face as a moment of vulnerability passed over his face, perhaps one of the rare times you would truly see the boy you fell in love with.

“She was never you.” He whispered.

And you melted. Tears started to well in your eyes at the sweet confession. While you were still upset at heart that he had ever chosen that whore Lucy Gray to begin with, you could live with the fact that he was here now. That he had chosen you now. And over your cold, dead body would you ever let him go.

Shifting your hands to hold the back of his head, you brought his lips down onto your own. Slowing down for just this moment, you tried to convey all your feelings for him in the movement of your mouth. And Coryo sighed into you.

He wasn’t a good man – you both knew this. He was controlling and obsessive and possessive, but he was yours. You weren’t that great of a woman either if you were being honest. Jealousy boiled deep in your veins alongside a pot of anger that constantly threatened to spill over your “kind” persona, but you were his.

In those tangled weaves of fate, you had both found each other, knotted up at the center. No person could come between that, and God help whoever tried.

Shifting your mouth so that he could more aggressively push himself onto you, you said goodbye to the tender intimacy and relished in the way he roughly handled you.

He continued to play with your swollen clit, readying your virgin cunt for his length. Oh, how he was enlivened at the fact that he would be the first, and only, man to sink his cock into your heat. This would bond the two of you even further than you already were, marking you as his forever.

Slipping off the undergarment that he still wore, you and he were now fully bare to each other – like the Greek sculptures of old. Lovers before the fall. Viewed as soft and malleable, but in truth were filled with the hardness of their years – ready to find solace in the only other being that could see them as they truly were.

Taking his cock in his hand, Coryo began to rub his cock up and down your wet pussy. You moaned each time he swiped over your pearl and even more so when he put a bit of pressure on your tight hole.

“Fuck, Coryo.” You cried. “Just put it in already. Please. I need to fucking feel you.”

Your sweet begging was like music to his ears, and the cut of his restraint. Wasting no more time, he slowly started inching his way into you. Grunting, he rocked himself into you as you grimaced from the pain.

“Shit.” He moaned out. “You’re so fucking tight. Just relax for me, hmm, love? You’re doing so well. My good little girl.”

His praises went right to your core as your body began to open up more for him. Sinking yourself further into the mattress, he took one more thrust to fill you up completely.

Looking at you with only a sliver of blue around his blackened pupil, he groaned low and deep from the back of his throat after being fully sheathed in you. You, on the other hand, were still adjusting to the intrusion, but soon the pain subsided and all you wanted him to do was move.

“I’m okay, love.” You whined, giving him the go-ahead to finally start rocking his hips against yours.

Ever so slowly, he ran his length in your heat, getting you both accustomed to the feeling – addicting yourselves to it, more like. And with every thrust, he began to lose that self-control once more, pushing harder and deeper into you.

“God, Y/N. You’re sucking me right in.” He clenched his jaw at the pleasure coursing through him as you moved your hands up to grip his shoulders, digging your nails into him.

All you could feel was him. In you. Around you. His smell flowed into your nostrils as sweat and sex filled the air around you. And you couldn’t get enough.

“Coryo. Coryo. Coryo.” Your brain was turning to mush the more you could feel him rib against your walls. His name a prayer on your tongue and his body a temple as you worshipped both and all.

“Fuck.” He grabbed onto the back of your knees to lift your legs above his shoulders. Switching angles, he could reach even more of you as he pounded you into the bed. Squealing from the stimulation and pure pleasure, you held onto the sheets in a vice, trying not to spiral away.

“Look at this pretty fucking cunt. All mine.” He started rambling as he became drunk on your pussy. “I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to– fuck. Who even looks at you. I’ll fucking send them right to Gaul’s fucking mutations and watch as they die. Shit. I’ll fuck you right next to their corpse. Have them drown in their blood and our cum.”

His thrusts became more rapid as your cunt squeezed around him from his words. You couldn’t help the whines and moans as you thrashed your head back and forth.

“Hmph.” He grunted. “Like that, huh? Good. My dark little seductress. My perfect rose. Mine.” He thrusted into you.

“Mine.” Thrust.

“Mine.” Harder.

“Mine.” Deeper.

“God, yes.” You cried. “All yours! Please, please, please.”

Your words started to become unintelligent after you continued to search for your high. Coryo, noticing your state, began to play with your clit once more. Aching for you to cum all over his cock.

His own eyes rolled to the back of his head as he got closer and closer to his own release. With a foggy head, he quickly pulled out before immediately flipping you onto your stomach as you huffed out a disapproving whine. Filling you back up, however, had you right back to your drunken state.

“That bitch from 12 could never compare to you.” His tongue loosened confessions as he kept ramming his hips into your ass. “Fucking– fuck. Only used her so she would win. So I could– shit. Could go with you to University.”

You were barely comprehending his words at this point. Moaning obscenities into the sheets below you, you let him ramble without complaint.

“Make sure you didn’t try to find someone else there. No one– fucking damn it. No one else can have you. Gonna fuck you full of my cum and make sure everyone knows that.”

He felt you groan into the sheets again in pleasure. Gripping your hair, he pushed you further down as your back arched higher into the air. Keeping one knee on the bed, he bent the other to reach as deep as he could to fill you up.

“Coryo.” You drawled out in a lust-filled, husky voice.  

“I know, love. I know.” He felt you starting to twitch as your orgasm neared. “Never gonna let you go. Never gonna let you leave me.”

“Fuck!” You gasped into the sheets as you felt that coil tighten in your lower stomach. Tingles shot from your toes to your head as you waited for it to snap.

“Coryo!” you whined once more. “Please, I’m gonna come. Wanna come on your cock so bad. Let me come, please!”

Grunting, he reached around your torso to find your clit. Wrapping himself around you, he began twisting and rubbing on your pearl, making your release come faster and faster until –

“Come on my fucking cock, Y/N. Come on pretty girl.” And through his words and actions, that wave finally crashed as you moaned his name loudly into the bed. Legs shaking slightly, you kept rocking your hips back to meet his, riding out the best orgasm you’d ever felt.

You could tell Coryo was getting close too, by the way his thrusts got sloppier and paced quicker. He kept groaning your name under his breath wanting nothing more than to fill you with his seed.

Leaning his head down on your shoulders, he bit hard into your soft skin, marking his territory. You whined into the sheets as you could feel another wave coming toward you. Feeling you constricting around him had him suckling on the skin all over your neck – making sure there would be no doubts about who you belonged to.

“Fuck, Coryo.” You said as that coil began to tighten once more. “I want you to come in me. Want to– hmph. Want to drip with your seed.”

Growling right by your ear, he pushed even deeper into you, as the both of you chased your highs.

“Gonna get you pregnant with my kids.” Closer the two of you were getting, that beautiful high right in sight. “See your stomach swell with my babes. Over and over again.”

You both moaned out, so close.

All it took was one more deep thrust until Coryo painted your walls white as the driven snow. Your own release followed shortly behind as your body began to slump from exhaustion.

Coryo was entranced by the ring of both of your cum around his cock, slowly rocking it back into you to make sure it took. He will have you with him when he rules Panem. He will have you carry his children and be there to take care of him, as he would you. And he will never let you go.

Both of you falling into a mess of limbs on your bed, you couldn’t help but admire the man who lay next to you, wanting nothing more than for every day to be with him. An adoring smile graced your face as you traced his features.

He watched you with curiosity, before pulling you in by your waist to be even closer to him. You snuggled into his chest as his strong arms wrapped around you, sighing contently. Ever so slowly, your eyes began to droop, heavy with sleep. But, before you surrendered to your slumber, you whispered out to Coryo.

“I love you.” And you fell asleep.

His eyes widened slightly with fear. He feared for not only your feelings for him but his feelings for you. He never truly loved Lucy Gray, but you. You were always the holder of his heart, and he knew that was dangerous in the games he would yet have to play.

But he was a selfish man. He wouldn’t be letting you go, and he wouldn’t let anyone else get their hands on you – lover or enemy. He would keep you close, always in his sight, always safe. And really, what did he have to worry about?

“I love you too,” he whispered to your sleeping form.

Everything would work out for you two, he would make sure of it.

Besides, he thought to himself,

Snow always lands on top.

[justmystyles]

Big Winners - Part 2

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x record producer plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,895

summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them.

a/n: it's gonna be 3 parts, here's part 2. please enjoy! if you missed part 1, check it out here.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Once they finished with the carpet, they made their way inside where they were ushered to their seats at a table with the rest of Harry’s team. They chat while they wait for the show to start. As people enter the venue and move to their seats, many stop to greet Harry and congratulate him on the success of the album. Whenever that happened, Harry made it a point to introduce them to Y/N as the ‘mastermind behind it all’, causing her to blush, and him to laugh. 

The show begins, and they watch as other artists perform and awards get handed out. Harry and Y/N sneak glances and smirks, knowing exactly what they’re trying to convey to each other without the use of their words. 

As they got closer to Harry’s performance, Y/N noticed the tell-tale signs that Harry was starting to get nervous, so she reached for his hand under the table, lacing her hand into his to calm him. He grips her hand tightly and smiles gratefully at her. 

She leans in close, to whisper in his ear. “One thing at a time, just focus on the performance right now, that’s the only thing that you have any control over tonight. The award is what it is, but you make or break the performance.”

Harry smiled and nodded, but from the moment they entered the auditorium, all he could do was picture the two of them on that stage, accepting an award together. He wanted her to have this moment, and he wanted to be a part of it. 

Before long, one of the producers came to retrieve Harry for his performance. Y/N stands with him and pulls him into a tight hug, whispering in his ear as she runs a soothing hand up and down his back. “You’ve got this. If you get nervous, or overwhelmed or anything, I’m right here. Just look for me, I’ve got you.” 

“You always do.” He whispers back before kissing her cheek and stepping out of the embrace. He follows the producer backstage, and Y/N takes her seat. 

Y/N watches the show as she tries to keep her thoughts on Harry and his performance, and away from the fact that they were that much closer to the end of the show, and the awarding of Album of the Year. She was quickly pulled from her thoughts when she heard Harry’s name announced, and the lights lowered. She stood from her seat with a big smile on her face. 

The performance went off without a hitch, it was well received by the crowd, they were on their feet dancing and singing along. His voice was flawless and his moves were on point, but more than that, he felt great about it. He was feeding off of the energy of the audience, and felt fully redeemed from his previous Grammy performance. 

The final notes are played and he hits a final pose. The audience cheers and applauds, and he bows before rushing off stage to change back into his suit and return to his seat, and to Y/N.

“Did you see that?!” He beams to Y/N as he returns to his seat. 

Y/N looks at Harry with wide eyes. “Oh no, you performed already? I must have missed it, I was in the bathroom!” She says teasingling. 

“Very funny, you are hilarious.” He says sarcastically. “Okay, let me rephrase, did you see how amazing I was?”

She wraps her arms around him in a quick hug. “The most amazing. And you had the audacity to be nervous.” 

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah yeah yeah, you were right…”

As the show begins winding down, the final presenter of the night steps on stage. As she presents the nominees, Harry slips his hand into Y/N’s and squeezes. They look into each other’s eyes and smile nervously. 

“And the Grammy goes to…”

Harry and Y/N slide their chairs a little closer, and then it happens. Harry’s name is announced. It’s as if time freezes for both of them. Harry snaps out of it first, standing to his geet and pulling Y/N with him, wrapping her in his arms and burying his face in her neck. 

“We did it?” Y/N whispers in a state of shock. 

Harry closes his eyes and pulls his head back, opening them to meet hers. “You’re goddamned right we did.” He replies with the brightest smile she’d ever seen from him. Harry pulls out of the hug, linking his hand with hers and walking to the stage side by side. 

“We’re in this together, you and me.” He whispers to her as they ascend the steps to the stage. 

“Okay, but you talk first.” She replies. 

They step toward the microphone, and Harry is handed the trophy. He takes it with his free hand, keeping his other linked with hers. Y/N looks out over the crowd, her eyes glistening with tears as the moment sinks in. She grips Harry’s hand tightly, like a lifeline. 

Harry takes a few deep breaths and looks over at Y/N before turning back to the microphone. “Wow…” He starts off with a deep sigh. “This whole album started one night on the beach in Italy, I was figuring out what was next for me, and while I didn’t know what it was, I knew who would help me get there, and I couldn’t have been more right. I am so proud of this record, and the person I became while we were making it, and none of it would have been possible without this wonderful woman beside me.” He holds up their joined hands. 

“Of course, I owe all the thanks to my amazing team, my family, my friends, my fans, but more than anything, I owe everything to Y/N. This album would not have been possible without her. She’s not only the most talented producer I could have asked for, but she’s also my best friend in the world. Her support and kindness throughout the years are a big part of the reason that I’ve gotten here.” He turns and locks eyes with her before continuing. “Y/N, thank you so much for this and for your unwavering love and support.” 

Y/N uses her free hand to wipe away a stray tear as she takes a shuttered breath. Before she has a chance to push back, Harry tugs her hand so that she’s now standing in front of the microphone. She looks over at Harry, he can see the slight panic in her eyes, and he winks at her, giving her a reassuring smile. 

“Well… okay… wow… First things first, I need to thank my mother for being nothing but supportive. When I told her at fourteen years old that I wanted to be a producer, she stood behind me and never doubted that I would be standing here someday.” 

She takes a deep breath and shoots a quick glance at Harry. “I also want to share one quick story. Fifteen years ago, I was lucky enough to land my dream internship at a recording studio. I was at the bottom of the barrel, just trying to make connections and get my foot in the door in the music industry. One day, this newly formed boy band from a television show in the UK came in to work on their first album. I was in the lounge, enjoying the brief moment of calm that I would get in a typical day and two of them walked in and introduced themselves. One of them was very sweet and polite. The other was Harry Styles.” She pauses as the audience chuckles, she can also hear Harry laughing beside her, but she keeps her eyes forward, she knows she won’t be able to get through this if she looks at him right now.

“He was this seventeen year old, floppy haired ball of energy with this big dimpled smile who refused to leave me alone. He followed me around the studio incessantly, asking me questions and begging me for my instagram handle. I never had a little brother, but meeting Harry made me realize what I had been missing. And I immediately thanked my parents for giving me a sister instead. For some reason, he was insistent on befriending me, and I will forever be grateful that he was. I got to watch this annoying little teenager grow into an incredible man. As amazing and kind as everyone always says Harry Styles is, I can assure you, he’s one hundred times better than that. I have been so honored to call him my friend all of these years, but to take the relationship to this whole new level and be able to work with him was a dream. It was the most fun I've ever had in a job, and the hardest I’ve ever worked. This album means everything to me, so to have it recognized is a great honor. Harry did all of the work, I just pushed buttons. He’s always told me I was good at pushing his buttons, but I had no idea I was this good.” 

The crowd chuckles again, this time she looks over at Harry, and sees his eyes glistening, and a few tears rolling down his cheeks. He chuckles at her joke, and the wrap up music begins to play. “And there’s nobody’s buttons I’d rather push.” 

She looks back out at the crowd, “So thanks to all of you,” she turns back and locks eyes with Harry once again. “But the biggest thanks goes to you, Harry. Thank you, and I am eternally grateful to have you in my life.” 

As Y/N steps away from the microphone, the audience is on their feet applauding. As the two of them walk offstage, Harry unlinks their hands, instead wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. 

Once they get backstage, Y/N wraps her arms around Harry and begins crying into his shoulder. Harry holds her tightly, his own tears falling. “I’m so proud of you,” Harry whispers into her hair. “You talked so much.” He says with a small chuckle, knowing how much she hated public speaking. 

“I love you, Har. Thank you, thank you for the last fifteen years.” 

“I love you too,” he whispers in reply. The two of them stand there in each other's arms, completely oblivious to everyone around them, the pictures being snapped, the videos being taken. 

The whole world fades away as they hold each other. Both of them are overwhelmed by the emotion and everything that has led them to this point. Every struggle, every fight, every long stretch they had to spend apart, it was all worth it to get to this moment. 

Y/N pulls away first, her watery eyes meeting his. They stare in silence for a moment before Y/N makes an unexpected move and leans in, pressing her lips to his. Harry doesn’t miss a beat, his hands move to her hips and pulls her against him, kissing her back passionately. The moment lasts for what feels like an eternity. When they finally pull away, they rest their foreheads together, their chests heaving, and hearts pounding. Harry’s eyes remain closed as he lets the moment wash over him.

“Sorry…” Y/N says through a broken whisper. 

Harry shakes his head and opens his eyes. “Don’t be sorry,” he replies softly. “This may be the most perfect moment of my entire life.” 

Y/N is about to open her mouth to say something else, but they are interrupted by a stagehand who ushers them to the press room for photos and interviews. 

Just before they step into the room, Y/N looks up at Harry, “Does my makeup look okay? I just did a lot of crying…” She chuckles softly as she wipes the last of her tears away. 

“You look absolutely beautiful.” He reaches up, and helps her brush a tear away with his thumb. She shutters slightly at the touch. 

They’re both handed a trophy to pose with. They look at each other, each taking a deep breath and stepping into the press area. As soon as they enter, flashbulbs start going off, and their names are called from every direction. Harry immediately takes her hand and the two of them stand together, posing for pictures. Harry moves his hand from hers and places it on the small of her back. 

After a few minutes, the flashes die down and the press begin asking their questions. 

“How does it feel to win?” One reporter asks. 

“Well, it’s old hat for Harry at this point, but for me, it doesn’t really feel real yet. I’ve had this dream so many times that I think it’s going to take time for it to sink in.” Y/N chuckles and looks over to Harry. 

“Any time my work is recognized, it’s a surprise and an honor. But to win with my best friend, it’s one of the greatest feelings in the world.” 

Y/N looks over at Harry with a sweet smile, and he throws an arm over her shoulder. 

Another reporter speaks up, with their question. “What is the secret to the success of your friendship? After fifteen years, to be this close, how does that happen?”

Y/N and Harry look at each other and laugh, they aren’t really sure how to answer that question, because it’s something they’ve never really thought about.

“Honestly, I can’t say I have an answer to that,” Harry starts. “We’ve never really had to try, everything just falls into place when we’re together. I guess the secret is to not think about it?” He chuckles and looks to Y/N for her response. 

“I don’t think there really is a secret,” she shrugs. “There are people in this world that just click, and that’s always just been Harry and I. I think it happens because we get each other, we have the same sense of humor, we like a lot of the same things, but we also have our own things, so there’s always something new to share or talk about.” 

The reporters all raise their hands, hoping to be selected. Harry points to one of them. “There has been a lot of speculation about a romantic relationship between the two of you, and there’s an undeniable chemistry there. Do you want to address any of those rumors tonight?” 

Y/N’s body tenses at the question. Five minutes ago, it would have been an easy answer. But they had just shared that kiss, and in that moment, something inside of her changed. Were they just friends? Or had something more always been lingering just below the surface? 

“I’ve never been one to speak publicly about my relationships, I like to keep my private life just that. But what I will say is that this woman, right here, is an invaluable part of my life, and she always will be.” He grins at the press, hoping that will be enough to fend off the personal questions. Y/N smiles up at him gratefully, for the way he handled the question. 

“We have time for one more.” the producer running the press conference chimes in. 

Y/N selects the final reporter, and they ask their question.

“Given the success of this album, do you think you’ll work together on future projects?”

“I don’t know,” Harry says cautiously. “This one here has just become a commodity, she may get too busy and leave me in the dust.”

The crowd laughs and Y/N slaps his chest playfully. “Don’t be an idiot.” She says, causing more laughter. “Honestly, I have no idea why it took us so long to do this in the first place. No matter how busy I am, or what I’m working on, if this guy calls, I’m making time.” 

Harry and Y/N pose for a couple more quick pictures before being ushered out of the press area. The producer thanks them for their time and lets them know they are free to go for the evening. 

Once they’re alone, Harry lets out a deep sigh and scrubs his hand over his face. 

“That was… a lot…” Y/N sighs. 

Harry nods in agreement. “That it was, but we survived.” He offers her a tired smile, the whirlwind evening finally catching up to him. 

Y/N studies his expression, she can see the exhaustion in his face, and can feel it in herself as well. “Wanna head back to the room and order a ton of room service?”

He looks at her, his brows rounded in surprise. “It’s your first Grammy awards, you don’t want to go to the after parties?”

She shakes her head. “No way, you know I’m not a big party person. Besides, this is our night, right?” Harry nods. “So why would I want to celebrate with a bunch of ass kissers who didn’t care about me, or even know I existed six months ago? If it’s our night, we should celebrate together.” 

Harry chuckles and offers his arm. “You do make a compelling argument.” She takes his arm and he leads her out to the lobby area to find their car. 

[marsreds]

so!! i've finally finished the ballad of songbirds and snakes and. i have to say, both people saying that katniss is lucy gray and people saying that katniss is sejanus aren't seeing the whole picture. it's not an either/or situation. from snow's perspective, katniss is lucy gray and sejanus both.

a dark haired, dark skinned girl from district 12 who caused a stir at the reaping. who sings. who cares for younger children. associated with birds and freedom and mockingjays in particular. but also? an impulsive crack shot, constantly throwing caution to the wind in the name of doing what they believe is right, compassionate and kind to self-destruction. ready to die in the arena to prove a point.

that's what makes it so good. the only two people who ever made snow waver, ever consider an alternative road in life, an alternative worldview? they're back. they're back to haunt him and tear down what he spent the rest of his life, life after he thought them gone, building. no wonder he got obsessed.

(blue eyed, blond, sweet-tongued liar peeta, who spent every ounce of energy during the hunger games playing "his" girl up? making her desirable and brilliant and driving all attention and sponsors her way? is it really surprising that snow didn't doubt the sincerity of his devotion?)

[remuslovebot]

lead singer!remus never being one to be public with his emotions but writing the sappiest love song for reader and the fans just go wild!!! everyone just assumes it was james or sirius that wrote it (let's be honest james probably wrote 10000 ballads for lily) until one show remus is just all 'this is one i wrote for my girl' 🥺🥺🥺

GAH 😩 YES OMG OMG !!!

thank you for this love <3

hope you enjoy !!

The Marauders set up their instruments and sound hours ago, practicing as much as they could before their performance. The band had started receiving gigs in pubs and at parties. Already having a few original songs under their belt, they were receiving more attention from local venues.

You had been introduced to the band from a dear friend. Marlene McKinnon was friends with the band and the guitarist’s girlfriend — Lily Evans. Everyone was going to be there tonight. The pub already filling up with university students and local residents from the community. You were in a booth at the front of the venue, squashed between Marlene and Lily.

“I wonder how many love ballads there will be tonight?” Marlene asked, turning to Lily and giving her a smirk.

Lily playfully rolled her eyes. “James doesn’t write that many,” she protested. Although she had to admit, the boy had written a few love ballads similar to those of the 1980s.

You took a sip of your drink and looked at you friends. “I wonder if Remus has written anything?” She asked.

Remus was a very private writer. He would write with Sirius or the rest of the band. You wouldn’t be opposed to having a song about you. But Remus didn’t seem like the type either. Especially with James’ obnoxious guitar skills and clearly Lily inspired lyrics.

As the room got more crowed and the 9 o’clock showtime reared it’s head, the band stepped out onto stage.

Remus was the first to come out. He was wearing an argyle sweatshirt and corduroy pants. It was his signature look and you thought it was very attractive. His guitar was around his chest. It’s bright cherry red color glistening in the light. Sirius was the second to pop out from behind the curtain, drum sticks in hand. James stepped out, almost tripping on a cord. He was usually very clumsy. His glasses were crooked, per usual and his vintage yellow electric guitar was strapped onto him. Peter was the last to get on stage, his glittering blue bass in his arms.

The band did a couple last minute checks, before Remus grabbed the microphone and looked into the crowd.

“Hello everyone. I’m Remus Lupin if you didn’t already know,” he smiled and the crowd cheered. “To my left is James Potter on electric guitar, to my right is Peter Pettigrew on bass. And lastly, on the platform behind me is Sirius Black on drums,” he introduced. With each name the crowd went wild!

Remus looked down at you and gave you a smirk and wink. You felt your cheeks redden and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“We have a newly written song for you tonight!” Remus said. “This is a love song!”

The crowd cheered before he could finish the introduction.

“Awe here we go again Lils, another one about you,” Marlene joked. You laughed under your breath as Lily took a drink of her beer.

But Remus continued and said something that surprised you.

“I wrote this one,” he blushed, then looking at you. “This is one I wrote for my girl.”

The band began to play the opening notes of the rock n roll song. As he was singing, he was only looking at you. Lily and Marlene cheered along with the crowd. You were stunned to silence, a permanent blush coding you cheeks.

For three minutes Remus and the rest of the band performed a song of Remus’ creation. All about the beauty and wonder that was you.

The rest of the performance went beautifully. With some of their usual set and a couple Bowie covers, they seemed to be over before you knew it.

After the performance you, Lily and Marlene went to meet the band out back to help them pack up their stuff. Once Remus spotted you, he dropped the cigarette he was smoking. He walked to you and pulled you close to him.

“Did ya like the song, love?” he asked you.

You nodded, “I did. I was surprised you wrote a love song about me?”

Remus pulled you in closer. “I meant every word I wrote. And I’d write you a million love songs, now that I have you in my arms,” he replied.

Overhearing the two of you, Sirius groaned, putting some parts of his drum set into the van. “Ugh great! You’re going to make him as bad as James,” he said, looking towards you.

Remus and you laughed, then the brown haired boy pulled you into a sweet kiss. “I’m glad you liked the song. I can’t wait to write you another.” He held you close to him, kissing your forehead.

𝑎／𝑛 ： I hope you enjoyed this. Please do not forget to reblog and like! If you’d like to request anything please send me a message through my inbox. Also my dms are open anytime if anyone just wants to chat <3

[alta1red]

EDEN. | 𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑬 II. Your very presence,

𝑺𝒀𝑷𝑵𝑶𝑺𝑰𝑺 : THE HAZBIN HOTEL CAST AND THEIR OPINION OF YOU.

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 : ( None that I'm aware of, although do inform me if I missed something ! )

𝑷𝑻 : II

♪

" Well.. Uh, Eden ! I can happily say you've got the job ! " Charlie happily announced, seemingly overflowing with excitement, observing the pep in her step as she walked towards you —she took your hands in hers as she shook it with vigorous energy.

" I'm so happy you joined us, here at Hazbin Hotel ! "

— Bingo, just what you needed to hear from the 'Little Morningstar' Herself. After all, your resume was damn near flawless, ( although erasing abit of your lore, like, you being an important figure up in the clouds ! ) Denying such a resume would be an utter loss the hotel of course !

— The hard part, however, is pretending to be a Sinner —And while sure you're not exactly a Saint, you've been drilled with proper manners, and overly kiss-ass behavior from Michael's, " How to be a proper Angel 101, " Lessons.

— Working as a gardener was easy in the long run, you've been taking care of plants for millennia — Although you could say a little One-Eyed Darling is abit iffy with the soil you had staining and dirtying your uniform, and well.. the dirt in general, but ! You were of course polite, being a dirty slob was incredibly embarrassing !

— So, just to ease Niffty you kept the dirt, soil, and grime all In the outside. ( Exception is the dirt, soil, and grime in the flower pots.. ) You often lead her to bug species that were harmful to your plants, finding amusement as she ruthlessly, and painstakingly kills their mother's. Maybe Charlie should say that she's only 75% percent harmless ?

— Your relationship with the Daughter of the Morningstar was, peaceful, maybe? You often let her rant to you about mundane stuff, finding her little shows and musicals, ballad's and all the such abit endearing, often leading you to follow the rhythm, and tapping your finger along to the beat as she sings, ( although you never joined such activities, ) You notice alot of her quirks, like her using hand gestures, her mushing out on a few words, ( and how she's abit naïve to how some of the residences -sinners, ehem, if not most of them were rather unredeemable. )

— She often reminded you of a certain Seraphim from up there, their resemblance being uncanny, but nostalgic. And due to you getting used to the Seraphim's personality you found it relatively easy to get along with Charlie, your day to day chats, and her suggestions for flowers were a delight, ( Let's hope she doesn't find out a few of the flowers she suggested, and you planted, don't belong in Hell. )

— She thinks that you're reliable, and a very comforting person to be around —She truly believes you deserve to be redeemed with how righteous and charitable you act, she considers you a sister, a person she can rely on when things go south, someone to have sibling conversation's with !

— Although, her girlfriend —Angel in disguise, hehe. You noticed Vaggie held a tense atmosphere around you, not that you minded, you were new, and 'Sinners' aren't exactly to be trusted, but you both kept a respectful and polite attitude towards eachother, in respect of Charlie.

— As time passed however Vaggie found you oddly nostalgic, your behavior.. and your mannerisms were too 'pristine' and 'polished' almost as if you'd been drilled with lessons for so long, or, maybe Vaggie was just imagining it, you held an aura which screamed 'Noble' in some way, but with the way you carried yourself..

— Vaggie had to just be imagining when she saw Blue Blood drip down from your finger, right?

— Now, moving on to Alastor; he was polite to all the ladies in the Hotel ( Including you, ) however you always notice how his shadows linger longer than they're supposed to, ( Is he watching ? ) He held a dignified aura within him, his voice —Static, that's what you could hear, and if you didn't pay much attention maybe you would've missed how there was a laughing track, only heard if you payed more attention than you should.

— Your first meeting with him, was.. well, eerie.

— " Alastor'— He grabbed your hand and shook it, the action causing you to tumble abit, before gaining composure —' Pleasure to be meeting you dear, quite a pleasure ! " He greeted, giving you his all too famous never ending smile. You smiled back politely, and then said, " Eden.. Although you could call m— nevermind, I'm the new gardener, honor to meet you Sir ! " You gave back the same energy, it's impolite to not too after all.

— Alastor enjoys your modest fashion, and how polite you are, quite a darling ! ( He doesn't like you. )

— For Angel Dust's opinion however.. A prude, with a clean streak ( how'd ya even end up in hell with such a goody-goody personality ? ) Sure Toot's, everyone has their own secrets but being so mysterious in a place like Hell ? Might aswell just be open with your crimes and all, not like anyone has the ability to judge ( Hell is Hell, )

— Although your company ain't too bad, after all —You give 'hella good advice, however he recognizes that look on your face —You're hidin' something big-time, and even then with your reckless and ditzy actions he KNOWS you aren't tryna' hide it at all.

— Husk.. He pays zero mind to you, often having chats some nights when you go for a swig- or -two, you were cryptic —In a different way, unlike a certain Smiles for Day's. You weren't eerie, neither creepy, just too secretive, everyone's knows it.

— Husk knows how Alastor feels about you, and to be honest, it ain't pretty. Consider how he knows about Alastor's certain feelings about someone being far more powerful, being petty, and all.

— But how much longer until everyone knows how deep of an entity you actually are?

FIN.

[thefandomdirtymind]

Stand by Me

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Soundtrack : Stand by me - Ben E. King

Hymne a l'amour - French Version by Josh Groban

Hymn to love - Edith Piaf

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon 

A/N : I had this idea stuck in my head for a while. Big shoutout to @alienstardustwrites for heard me complain about my cringe ideas and vocabulary struggle when helping me with my romantic vision.

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

---

It was a really calm night on the Merry Going. 

Most of the crew was already asleep, even Usopp who’s, in the nest, was on vigilance duty. In the kitchen, you were lazily washing the dishes as Sanji was doing his prep for the next day. He had ,of course, insisted that doing both wasn’t bothered him and that you should go rest like the others, but you had assured him that you weren’t tired and preferred helping him than counting sheeps or worse fixing the ceiling. 

It was then in a comfortable silence that you both focused on your work, enjoying each other's presence. 

The calm atmosphere, only broken by the repetitive chopping sound and often clicking of plates against each other was in fact so peaceful that you at first thought you were mistaken. But, as you passed behind Sanji, you heard it again, faint but still melodious. 

The blond cook was singing under his breath. You recognized, by the few words you could hear, the ballad the musician was playing at your last, well deserved, night of fun.

The place was crowded, either by drunk sailors or couples, as much intoxicated as the previous, slowly dancing to the music. You remembered Sanji being particularly flirty that night, except for when that song had come. Multiple times, you had seen him reach for you before retreating himself or just brushing your question away. 

“ It’s nothing, love “ 

Had been the only answer you had for his momentary strange behavior. 

But here, in the tranquility of his own kitchen, you couldn’t help yourself to be amused by the tall man.         

Slowly, drying the plate in your hand, you softly join your voice with him, trying to not lose the tempo as you see the tips of his ears turn an interesting shade of red.

“ I’m sorry, I didn’t know you could hear me “ Sanji apologies. 

“Why are you sorry ? That’s okay Sanj, you can enjoy a song you know. And you were singing it pretty well. It’s the song the musician played last time right ? ”  

“ Thank you darling, yes it is. I have it stuck in my head for a while now…” He said, putting aside his vegetable prep and salted meat. “ In fact, that night, I was...I was trying to invite you to dance but I didn’t...I didn’t want to share that moment with the others.” He softly confessed. 

You could perfectly understand. As much as you love Luffy and the others, being with them all the time has only left you really few moments of privacy. And you knew that , even if Sanji and you didn’t really hide your attraction for each other, flirting as much as you can without crossing a certain line, you knew that you would have heard jokes and other childish reactions for weeks.  

Putting down your dishcloth, resolute, you slowly crossed the distance between you and the best cook of the east blue. 

“  Sanji,the night is calm, everyone is asleep, can I invite you to dance ? “ You gently asked. 

“ We don’t have any music “ He softly smiled. 

“ Then sing for me “ You replied,as your hands slowly slid up on his chest before locking themselves behind his neck. 

His smile could have illuminated the sky if the moon wasn’t so jealousy guarding his spot. Placing one of his strong hands on your waist before enveloping one of your hands in his, he slowly closed the gap between your two bodies.  

“ As you wish, Coeur en sucre“ Sanji answered. * Heart of sugar/Sweetheart

Softly starting to hum the instrumental part, adjusting his head above yours. He gradually drives you in a slow movement, keeping you firmly against him, his warm chest solid under your cheek.  

As you were both swaying in the night and he was singing in your ears how he wanted you to stay by his side, making you often gently twirl, before welcoming you back in your warm bubble. Sanji reaches the end of the song, but never stops the move, letting your two heartbeats become the tempo, wishing to keep you for him a little longer, even if it is just for a moment. 

Your flirtation with Sanji has always been fun, light and cautious. But, as you lifted your head off his shoulder, your lips brushing against each other, starting their own long dance of waiting and hesitation, you knew it was inevitable as your gaze got lost on each other.

Lightly his soft lips took possession of yours,making it seem  like time itself stopped, letting you enjoy in peace the sweetness of his kiss. Returning for more,his hand cupping the side of your face, passion diffusing itself little by little like a good liquor, kiss by kiss, you softly smile against his mouth. 

“ I think we have definitely crossed the line “ You joked, before stealing another kiss.

“ I think I had crossed that line the first day I saw you, “ Sanji confessed, his thumb caressing your cheek. “ You’re so perfect, I knew in a minute I had to make you mine “ 

“ Then, thank you for waiting for me.” You replied, leaving a long kiss on his lips before putting your head back at his place on his shoulder. “ Sanji, can you sing for me again please ? I don’t want the moment to end” 

“ Me neither mon ange” He answered, his arms tighten around your waist. 

As he intoned the debut of a french song about a hymn to love, your bodies moving in harmony, you knew you would have given everything to stay like this forever.

Song : (French ) ( English )

---

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Join my TAG LIST : HERE

[fastlikealambo]

Connubium.|| Coriolanus Snow x Black Fem Reader Chapter Three

table of contents.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Summary: Stealing from The Capitol is a deadly offense, yet you’ve done it more times than you can count but when you do something you should not have done, Volumnia Gaul decides a fate for you that might just be worse than death.

Notes: This takes place post The Ballad of Songbirds And Snakes and Coryo is in his last year at The University, studying under Dr. Gaul. This will not follow canon, I’m not an expert on all the lore so I apologize if I get things wrong.

Disclaimer: You know Coriolanus is a POS, I know Coriolanus is a POS, please don’t yell at me because this is just a fun little story, something for thee hotties, and  if you feel that strongly against President Snow, please let me know if you’d like me to sign you up for tessarae.

Warnings: Violence against Reader, murder, some gore.

Thanks for the love on chapter two! If you want to see chapter four, comment or reblog, feedback makes me want to continue!

To Coriolanus’ immense relief, Grandma’am wasn’t home. 

He would have had to explain why he much preferred to stay with The Plinths these days, his exquisite guest, and why he had outright rejected her last match for him.

Her wealth was inadequate, the one before her smiled too much, and the one before that liked to sing.

No singers, ever.

 “What a lovely home, did you grow up here?” You asked him as he sat you down on a comfortable chair gently. You looked around, relieved that this was not one of the homes you had stolen from in the past as that would have made things a little awkward.

   “Since before the war, I’m surprised we’ve never met before, I thought I knew everyone my age in The Corso.” Coryo said over his shoulder as he searched through the cabinets for supplies.

  “My father was hurt during the war and in his fragility became rather overprotective. I’ve had private tutors since childhood and now that he and my mother have passed on, my priorities have changed and my desire for exploration has grown.  Although, after today, perhaps exploration while reading is not the best idea.” You said, the well practiced lie flowing from your lips like water.  

Thanks to a tutor Dr. Gaul blindfolded and threatened, all traces of your district dialect were gone in three days, home no longer on your tongue or in the calluses scrubbed from your fingers.

The girl from District 6 was dead.

   “Perhaps you just need another pair of eyes. You read and I’ll look out for cars, how does that sound to you?” He asked, sitting down on a chair opposite you and lifted your leg onto a pillow on his lap.

  “University student, crossing guard, Capitol tour guide. What don’t you do, Coriolanus Snow?” You asked, a small smile that he returned with ease before looking down at your ankle.

   “Unfortunately I don’t sew as I think I’m going to have to cut your stocking off.” He said, scissors poised to cut the silk  but a soft hand on his stopped him.

   “I think this might be easier.” You said, lifting the edge of your dress to expose a sliver of the garter belt and suspenders that kept your stockings up. With an audible click, you unhooked the stocking, careful to let out a slightly pained breath trying to roll the stocking down and keep your leg still.

You weren’t sure if Coriolanus was still breathing.

“Let me help.” He said, voice rough, and you didn’t need to be told twice to remove your hands as Coriolanus put both hands on your warm thigh and slower than he’d thought you’d notice, rolled the stocking down and carefully over your swollen ankle, blue eyes never leaving yours.

Capitol or District, the look of wanton hunger in the eyes of men when they wanted something so badly was universal.

A door opening broke you both from the scene, the click clack of heels made Coriolanus straighten in his chair and you pulled your dress back into place as a tall blonde came into view.

  “Grandma’am, I’m home! Oh, Coryo, I wasn’t expecting you so soon! Who’s this? ” The bright smile on the pretty blonde’s widened as Coriolanus introduced you.

  “This is my cousin, Tigris. We had a bit of an incident on the street so I brought her here to get cleaned up, hope that’s alright. ” Coriolanus explained.

“Oh you poor thing! It’s nice to meet one of Coryo’s friends, despite the circumstances, that looks like it hurts.” She said without the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Only warmth radiated off Tigris Snow as you chatted, Tigris immediately going to work to fix a rip in your coat while Coriolanus finished wrapping your ankle.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner? We haven’t had guests in such a long time and I know Grandma’am would just love to meet you.” Tigris asked and Coriolanus was astounded and disgusted by the way his heart raced as he waited for your answer.

What was this?

Where were the jokes about district scum?

Why did you actually want to stay for dinner?

“Thank you but I’ve taken up so much of your cousin’s time already, I should be on my way.” You said and Coriolanus’ attempt to disguise his displeasure did not go unseen by you as he helped you up.

“Well then, we’ll have tea soon enough, I demand it.” Tigris said with a gentle smile.

“I look forward to it.”

The first true thing you had said about yourself all day.

A car was waiting for you when you and Coriolanus emerged from the penthouse, letting him take most of your weight.

“Well Mr. Snow, thank you and your cousin for everything, I don’t know how to repay you.”

Coriolanus did.

“My friends, The Plinths, are having dinner tomorrow, half of The Capitol is invited. Would you like to go with me?” Coryo asked.

 President Ravinstill would be in attendance and Coriolanus needed to be seen as a contender for Panem’s political future and none of the matches Grandma’am had attempted to make would be able to convey that image. 

Coriolanus didn’t need a date, he needed a brand.

He needed you.

“I’d love nothing more, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus watched as your car disappeared around the corner before continuing on in the direction of The Plinth residence, satisfied that stopping that car from hitting you had produced a fruitful opportunity just as he predicted. With you at his side tomorrow evening, nothing would go against him.

As he walked, Coriolanus reached into his pocket and pulled out the silk stocking he had conveniently forgotten to return to you.

He’d hold onto it, of course, for safekeeping.

His intentions were as pure as the driven snow.

There’s no way you were going to get through a dinner full of Panem’s finest without making a fool of yourself.

Tonight you would sneak into Gaul’s lab and find out where she was keeping your parents, peacekeepers be damned.

You were formulating a plan as the car pulled up to where Gaul had settled you, limping towards the door when someone yanked you into the shadows and slammed you into a wall.

A man in a wrinkled suit held you by the shoulders, the smell of Morphling on his breath made you want to vomit.

“I knew I recognized you! You picked my pocket a month ago and you’ve come crawling back for more, haven’t you? District trash just can’t help themselves.” He said with a hollow laugh, yellowed eyes attempting to focus on you as he tightened his grip.

“Let me go or I’ll scream.”

“ For who? A peacekeeper? I’ll get one myself but before that, I’d like a kiss. Give us a kiss, you know you want to-”

The morphling didn’t finish his sentence due to the fact the heel of your shoe you somehow managed not to drop was driven into the side of his neck, blood soaking your face and coat as you pushed his limp and gurgling body off you.

A chuckle behind you made you turn and there stood Dr. Gaul, applauding you with fervor.

“Red looks good on you, little thief.”

You were right, the girl from District 6 was dead.

But the woman from The Capitol would be much harder to kill.

That’s chapter 3! If you’d like this story to continue, please comment, reblog, give me feedback! Let me know what you think about this story! Thank you for reading.

[thechanelmuse]

Pink Anderson (1900-1974)

Pink Anderson was a historic figure whose music included Piedmont-style blues, folk music, ragtime, and traditional ballads. He was born in South Carolina and early on sang in the streets for pennies. He was self-taught as a guitarist and toured throughout the Southeast with a variety of medicine shows (including Dr. William R. Kerr's "cure all medicine") during 1915-1945, picking up work wherever he could. He was employed not only as a musician and a singer but as a dancer and comedian.

Anderson recorded four titles in 1928 but did not make another record until Harlem Street Spirituals in 1950 for Riverside. At that time he recorded such traditional folk material as “John Henry,’ ‘The Ship Titanic,” and “Wreck of the Old 97.” He continued to work at parties, street fairs, and medicine shows during the first half of the 1950s before retiring for a time due to ill health. But in 1961, the Bluesville label recorded three albums of unaccompanied performances by Anderson, documenting him in Spartanburg, South Carolina. The titles of the three records, Carolina Blues Man, Medicine Show Man, and Ballad & Folksinger, vol. 3, sum up Pink Anderson’s life well and are a large slice of the repertoire that he had performed during the previous 35 years.

Pink Anderson stayed active on a part-time basis up until the time of his death in 1974. His music represents the Carolina blues, and the tradition of the constantly traveling folk singer.

Source

Floyd Council (1911-1976)

Floyd Council was a blues singer and guitar slinger who played in the East Coast / Piedmont style. He didn’t record solo often, but he’s still said to have recorded 27 songs, many backing up the legendary Blind Boy Fuller.

Born in North Carolina, Floyd began his musical career on the streets of Chapel Hill in the 1920s, performing with two brothers, Leo and Thomas Strowd as “The Chapel Hillbillies.” He recorded twice for ARC at sessions with Blind Boy Fuller in the mid-thirties, all examples of the Piedmont style. He was sometimes promoted as ‘Dipper Boy Council’, and ‘The Devil’s Daddy-in-Law,’ but these were likely the invention of record companies, not genuine nicknames.

Council suffered a stroke in the late 1960s which partially paralyzed his throat muscles and slowed his motor skills, but did not significantly damage his cognitive abilities. Folklorist Peter B. Lowry attempted to record him one afternoon in 1970, but he never regained his singing or playing abilities. Accounts say that he remained “quite sharp in mind.” Council died in 1976 of a heart attack, after moving to Sanford, North Carolina.

Source

Pink Floyd

Pink Anderson and Floyd Council were both featured on a Blind Boy Fuller album called Country Blues: 1935-1940. The sleeve of that album caught the eye of Syd Barrett, the frontman for London band, The Tea Set. Barrett changed the band's name to Pink Floyd, and the rest is history.

Source

[whorediaries-09]

dancing with our hands tied;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, injuries, blood, potential part two. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- it's not the best but yeah.

the slut club

i'd kiss you as the lights went out

the death eaters had been berserk ever since sirius had been declared a free man. the daily prophet who had sung cruel, heinous ballads about his criminal record was singing beautiful lullabies about him, praising him, and his 'heroic acts'. he'd burned every single one of the newspapers, being profusely aggressive at the 'two-faced bastards'.

it was even more harsh upon you since you'd been the interrogator, the one who had helped him be free during his trial.

clutching the pain caused by your broken ribs and a broken limb, you tried to clear your head, trying to numb the pain. you tried to clear the numb sleepiness that was caused due to the pain, clearing the fog as you apparated to your house. you fell on the floor, the cold wood biting into your skin. it was a cruel flow of blood and dizziness, but you still managed to send a message to the order, even if you were unsure it would reach the order.

slowly feeing your breaths pass through your nasal cavity, you felt your eyelids close, laying numb upon your own blood as you gave into the darkness succumbed around you.

*****

it was a excruciating grasp upon your arm that woke you up. it was followed by a jab on your abdomen and chest, a result of your own panic. you lay under your sheets, your blood soaked clothes replaced by new, fresh ones. you could feel the bandage upon your numb skin.

you looked around the unfamiliar room, with dark gloomy walls. they weren't a contrast to the pair of gray stormy eyes yours met. his fingers lay intertwined with yours, as he looked down upon you with an utmost worry that hurt your poor heart.

's-sirius? where am i?' his voice was barely a whisper you caught onto when he replied,

'the order's headquarters,'

'w-why?'

'dumbledore got your message. he said it wouldn't be safe to put you in your own house. you're a prime nemesis of the death eaters,'

'so i've to be alone? here?'

the air seemed to be thick with exhaustion and indecision. your question seemed to be an imposition.

'no, i'll be here.' he answered, though at a loss of words himself. 'if you want me to be?'

even though the pain deafened your thinking capabilities, you weren't sure how you got here. you weren't sure how long you'd been passed out. you weren't sure how long the pain would've weighed down upon you, leaving an excruciating amount of questions you left unvoiced.

so under the dimlight, you observed his face. it was gray, but you knew he wouldn't admit he was sick. he knew the death eaters were after you because he was free because of you. he knew it made the death eaters drive into the edge of insanity, to torture you before they could end you. it felt as if he were bruised like violets, the throbbing blue of his nerves underneath his porcelain skin.

he squeezed your fingers, not brave enough to meet your eyes. perhaps it was survivor's guilt that punished him from inside, you squeezed his fingers back, trying to reassure him, that he didn't need to fall into a trap of guilt, he wasn't at fault.

'have you slept?' you asked, even though you knew the answer.

'a few naps here and there,' he answered. 'listen i-i'm sorry, you're in this situation because of me. if you hadn't gone out to defend me and interrogated me then you wouldn't be here-'

you clapped your palm over his mouth. it was as if watching wisteria grow right over your bare feet, as if you hadn't moved in years.

'i fight for justice sirius, not you. can you please sleep?'

'i-i can't leave you alone,' he answered, muffled through your palm.

you patted the space beside you. he looked at you, his eyes reflecting an unanswered question.

'you look warm,'

*****

it was as if a red rose grew out of an icy cold ground. the time didn't seem to stop, as the insurmountable pain was long forgotten. the scent of pancakes hung in the air, the hot tea placed before you as you nibbled on your toast. you were busy staring at sirius' back muscles under his linen shirt, as the light reflected through the sheer fabric.

through the days sirius had taken care of you, you had developed a connection with him, a deep provoking one. it was far from being friends, when in a drunk haze he'd cried to you, opening about himself, his past and his insecurities. he'd pressed his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek, expressing his desire to kiss you, at least once. he told you how he'd been so scared when he'd found you barely breathing in your apartment. you remember stroking his hair, thinking he'd spit out those words out of guilt.

'here's your pancake,' he said, serving it hot on a plate, topped with butter and honey. you took a sip of your tea before thanking him. he sat beside you, cutting into his pancake, which he'd topped with whipped cream and honey.

'that's a weird combo,' you commented. he shrugged his shoulders, biting into his food.

'sirius,'

'hm?'

'thank you.' he stared at you flabbergasted.

'what for?'

'for taking care of me. i-i'd probably be dead by now if it weren't for you-'

he slapped his palm over your mouth. he stared into your eyes, an intense hotness pooling into his stomach as he neared your face. he scanned your eyes, an abyss of unreadable emotions he wanted to decipher, the curve of your nose and your tangled hair tied in a bun. even in a morning haste, he thought you looked beautiful. you brought out so much in him, it made him afraid. of what exactly he didn't know. he felt like something when you made him laugh, when you listened to him, when you were around. you were the only one who didn't look at him with eyes of pity, someone who'd escaped the hands of unjustified law.

'don't ever fucking say that. i did all this because i love you,' he grazed his temple with yours. it was a momentary bliss he supposed. in his head, you'd move away, go back to your house after you'd processed his words.

instead, you stroked your hand over his cheek. he felt your breathing palpitate, your heartbeat matching his when you neared his lips.

'i know,'

his breathing intensified. he gazed at your lips, his fingers stroking your cheek. he tucked stray hairs behind your ear, his lips almost brushing yours.

'we shouldn't,'

'i know,'

'fuck it,'

fireworks. it was as if red white and blue painted the sky, when he submitted into his desire, getting lost in your lips. his stomach erupted into a thousand butterflies as you melted under his touch. because god forbid you were made just for him. you were his drug, and what wouldn't he do to overdose.