#and four different kinds of cookies

[cryptid-crusader]

Bro I am just so grumpy tonight. :/

[mademoisellesarcasme]

me, gleefully separating egg whites: no such thing as too many macarons

me, an hour and a half later, tearfully piping the fourth tray of shells: too many macarons is when i run out of baking trays

[fingertipsmp3]

No one:

Me: does anyone want to hear what my sims family did today

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"concrete" - hotch x fem!bau!reader

your crush on your boss is so nearly at its breaking point; based on the request found here

cw: canonical violence, mutual pining, mild miscommunication, not a happy ending but not an unhappy ending lmao sorry luv ya

word count: 1.4k

------

You’ve been crushing on your boss for exactly ten months and nine days. You’ve known him for close to a year, but when you think about it, that two month difference in time is just about what it takes to warm up to Aaron Hotchner. 

He was a statue when you first met him. Unwavering, stoic, and maybe even a little strict (definitely very strict). He didn’t crack a smile around you until the first case you ever worked with the BAU was wrapped up, and he definitely didn’t make any jokes until much later on. You discovered underneath the stalwart, brick wall you met was the same man, only softer. Like one of those hard-shell candies with a jelly center. He was incredibly kind, patient, observant, and honorable. 

And he would do anything for anyone on his team at the drop of a hat. 

You also got to see the more playful side of him as you got to know him, as your caseload with the BAU only grew. Sure, he was a stickler for paperwork and procedure, but was he though? 

You once saw him take over a report JJ was supposed to finish so she could make it to Henry’s t-ball game. You definitely witnessed him reassuring Penelope that it was okay that she hacked into the Interpol database for info on an UnSub, and when Derek needed help tracking down his cousin in Chicago, Hotch had the whole team pitch in, which was certainly some kind of ethics violation. 

Little did you know that Aaron was crushing on you, too. He didn’t word it that way in his head, of course, but the second he watched you stride into the conference room to consult on a case, he knew he was in trouble. He expedited the transfer paperwork himself, even followed Strauss in the elevator on her way out one night to make her sign it. 

He grew fond of you quickly, of your insights, your compassion with victims’ families, your quick wit. You always bring homemade cookies or cupcakes for the entire team when it’s someone’s birthday, and you always have a different perspective to offer on cases. He especially loves when you are clearly thinking hard about something, so you cross your ankles - sitting or standing, he’s noticed - and tap your toes against the floor. 

Aaron’s ways of showing affection were not lost on you. He brought you coffee on more than one occasion, but he also brought coffee to the rest of the team. He straddles the invisible line between Caring Boss and More Than That so well. You’re not exactly sure what his actions mean.

Like today, for example. The team is in a small town in Kentucky, and you’re deep into a case - a spree, four murders in four days. You have been awake for about twenty straight hours, give or take, and the world around you has turned hazy. 

You are combing through a suspect’s letters with Spencer, your eyes growing heavier by the second. Your chin is propped up by your arm, and you finally close your eyes, just for one second of respite. Your arm gives out and your head whacks against the table, a wake-up call no amount of espresso could ever provide. 

“Shit, Y/N. Are you okay?” Spencer’s out of his chair in an instant as you lift your head, rubbing the already-formed welt on your forehead. 

The spot is tender and red and you’re dizzy, the wheels on your chair not helping matters. Why are there three Reids hovering over you? They meld back into one Reid after you blink a few times, and as you’re nodding to reassure Spencer you’re okay, you hear Hotch walk in. “I heard a thud. What happened?” 

The conference room in the police precinct is teeny and already cramped, so Spencer has to move out of the way for Hotch to get to you. 

“She smacked her head on the table,” Spencer explains hurriedly. “I’ll get you an ice pack,” he scurries off, likely to ask one of the local officers, leaving you alone with Hotch. 

You’re still reeling and a bit disoriented from the contact with the solid oak table. Hotch takes the rolling desk chair beside yours, previously occupied by Spencer, and is hunching to meet your eye line. “You should really go back to the hotel and sleep for a little bit,” he says.

“Nobody else is,” you protest just as Hotch squares up to you to examine the welt on your forehead. You see him visibly grimace, his lips pressing deep into his face.

His thumb is suddenly on your forehead, padding around the bruise. It’s tender, and you know it would hurt if he touched you even a centimeter to the left, but he’s hitting it at just the right spot. You can see the lines on his palm.

“Yeah, well, no one else just concussed themselves,” he points out. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s tired, too. His eyes are heavy, the bags under them puffier than usual. 

“If I’m concussed, then I really shouldn’t go to sleep,” you point out, and Hotch’s expression tightens. 

“What day is it today?” He asks, retracting his hand and pulling back into his own space. 

“Wednesday,” you reply, then your eyes dart to the clock on the wall. 12:17 AM. “Thursday,” you correct. 

Hotch releases a pressure-cooker sigh and narrows his eyes at you scrupulously. You lean forward in your chair in a challenge. “I’m fine,” you insist. 

“I just wish you’d take care of yourself so I wouldn’t have to.” 

This catches you off guard. Your brows furrow and you frown at Hotchner, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?” you ask, feeling offended. What the hell was that supposed to mean? “You don’t think I take care of myself?”

Hotch’s mouth is hanging open just slightly, and he’s shaking his head. “No, Y/N, that’s not what I-” 

“You and I both know you would tell me if my performance was inadequate,” you decide in that moment - maybe it’s the potential concussion, or maybe it’s the exhaustion - to rip into him. “I don’t need a babysitter, Aaron.” 

Hotchner shakes his head again. “I know you don’t need a babysitter,” he says calmly. Irritatingly calmly. “I just meant that there are many other things I’d rather be doing…” 

Your mouth goes dry. Obnoxiously, with the cadence of a confused basset hound, you say, “huh?” 

Aaron’s cheeks are pink now, and he swallows hard. “I’d better go check on Reid and that ice pack,” he murmurs, but before he can roll away, you grab the arm of his chair.  

“Aaron,” you breathe out, and suddenly he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world, like there’s a spotlight shining down on you from the ceiling of a little police precinct in Middle of Nowhere, Kentucky. 

His brown eyes are so soft at this moment. His eyebrows have softened from their usual piercing, investigative furrow. He knees press into yours, and you want so badly to bridge that gap between his face and yours. His mouth is hanging open, only slightly, and you watch with bated breath as his tongue juts out - just barely - to moisten his lips. 

The door flies open at that moment, and Spencer’s shifting three different ice packs among his hands. “I’ve got gel, I’ve got water-based, and they also had one of those beaded eye masks that people put in the freezer for self-care at home,” he laughs at this, stopping at the head of the table when he realizes he very clearly interrupted something. “Should… should I go?” 

You’re rolling back from Hotch, crossing your ankles and shaking your head. “No, you’re fine, Spence,” you say hurriedly and squeakily, just as Hotch clears his throat and rises from his seat. He lingers in the door on his way out. As you’re taking the gel ice pack from Spencer and placing it gingerly against your forehead, your gaze meets Hotch’s. 

He’s boring into you with those beautiful molten chocolate eyes, and he purses his lips pensively for one fleeting moment, as if to say, to be continued. 

“What was all that about?” Spencer asks as he sits back down. You shake your head. 

“Nothing,” you feel concrete tension in your jaw that radiates all the way down to your toes. You grab the next pile of letters and open one. The fact that you have to pretend like nothing just happened, like you didn’t just share an absurd amount of tension with your boss? It feels like your entire body is on pins and needles. “Let’s just keep going.”

[quintinh43]

Stressed Spelled Backward Is Desserts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn comes home to his girlfriend stress baking.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Warnings: Food, Flirting, Fluff, use of terms like baby, honey, love.

Notes: Hi guys!! Holy moly, I did not expect my last post to have so many interactions!! I'm glad yall liked it. Anyways, here's another one! If there's anything else yall think should go in warnings, please let me know! Also, I'm thinking of making a part 2 to this one, so if yall are interested, please let me know! I hope yall enjoyyy. Love Soph.

---

Usually, the sound of the apartment door opening would be enough to draw your attention away from what you were doing and greet Quinn with a kiss at the door. Although with the music in the background, the consistent buzz of the stand mixer and the kitchen fan going, you didn't register it.

The first thing Quinn noticed was the smell. It smelt like sweet heaven. Cookies, maybe..? The second thing he noticed was all the different noises. The kitchen fan, the music, a weird buzzing, and what sounded like you mixing something in a metal bowl.

Quinn toed off his shoes, hung up his keys, and peaked into the kitchen cautiously. You were indeed mixing something in a metal bowl. That's when Quinn noticed the absolute massive amount of cookies spread out on the kitchen island. There must've been at least five different kinds.

He turned off the music, and as soon as he did, you whipped around and crashed into his chest, not expecting him to be so close. He grabbed your arms to stop you from stumbling backward.

"Hi," he smiles fondly, pecking you on the forehead.

"Hello," you grin, bumping your head against his chest in greeting.

"Whats all this?" He asks as you wriggle out of his arms to go back to mixing what Quinn assumes is icing or filling of some kind.

"I was stressed," you shrug, as if that explained it.

Quinn looks at you with a raised brow. He sits on the bar stool, shrugging off his suit jacket, loosening his tie and undoing the top few buttons of his shirt "That doesn't explain why it looks like a bakery threw up in our kitchen." He says, plucking a cookie off the plate.

He bites into it and resists the urge to moan out loud. It was still warm from the oven, and the chocolate was warm and melty. On the second bite, he actually moaned out loud because holy shit, there was caramel in the middle.

"You like it?" You giggle

"Mhmm," Quinn mumbles around a mouthful of cookie. You watch him lick chocolate off his thumb, and he gives you a wink that has you blushing.

"You still never answered my question, Love," Quinn says, eyes roaming to the next cookie he wanted to try.

"You've never heard of stress baking?" You ask, holding out a spoon of what looks like raspberry mush for him to try. He leans over the counter and lets you feed him. He smacks his lips together, making a sour face, and you laugh.

"Never in my life, but I think I like the concept." He says, snatching what looks like a white macadamia nut cookie off a cooling rack. "But still, what are we gonna do with all of these? There's no way we can eat this much cookies between the two of us. There must be at least five dozen!"

"Probably closer to eight dozen," you say sheepishly. As if on cue, the oven timer beeps. You don the oven mitts and pull another tray of cookies out of the oven.

Quinns eyes widen, "That's like...ninety-six cookies"

"One hundred and four actually"

"What? No? Eight by twelve -"

"Thirteen," you interrupt

"Love, a dozen is twelve." Quinn says, watching as you mix the raspberry lemon jam thing into cookie, another batch of cookie dough.

"A bakers dozen is thirteen." Quinn's eyes go wide.

"Damn. I don't know if I should be concerned about what's causing you so much stress or if I should start stressing you out once in a while for the sake of some dessert." He jokes.

"Oh honey, you don't have to stress me out, to bake for you. I will bake you whatever you want whenever you want. All you gotta do is ask." You pause in thought for a moment "and maybe fuck me" you add with a mischievous grin.

Quinn grins leaning over the counter "baby i'll fuck you whenever you want, wherever you want, however you want, all you gotta do is ask."

You roll your eyes at him, unable to keep the smile off your face. "You wanna lick the spoon?" You ask, holding the jam spoon out to him.

"I wanna lick you," he grins, closing his lips over the spoon. A blush instantly rises to your cheeks, and you flick the end of the spoon that hangs out of his mouth. He groans as it clangs against his teeth, dropping it onto the counter as you laugh at him.

"Go change and come help me," you say, leaning over the counter to kiss him. He kisses you back happily "yes chef" he murmers against your lips.

He kisses you one more time before disappearing into the bedroom to change. He comes back out dressed in a black henly and grey sweats, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

If you hadn't just made over one hundred cookies, you'd be having Quinn as your snack because holy shit did he look fine. Damn you were lucky to have him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Quinn asks a little self conscious, as he dons the apron you hand him.

"I'm just thinking about how I'm so lucky to have you." You smile, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss to his lips. He wraps an arm around you, not letting you pull away. He tastes like raspberry. 

"I love you Y/n" he murmers against your lips with a grin.

"I love you too," you say, bumping your hip against his, "come on, these cookies aren't gonna shape themselves"

"So bossy." he chuckles, getting to work beside you. He stands close enough so that your hips and arms are brushing against each other as you work.

After a few hours, a flour fight, a couple dozen more cookies, a thorough scrubbing of the kitchen and a shower, you and Quinn lay on the couch with a half eaten plate of cookies infront of you.

"Y/n love, what are we gonna do with a hundred cookies?"

You sigh. That was a problem you'd been trying to solve for the past while. You couldn't very well throw them out. "Could we give them to the team?"

Quinn taps his chin in thought, "I don't want them to know how good of a baker my girl is, or they might try to steal you from me"

"Don't worry, they couldn't take me from you if they tried." You smile, pressing a kiss to chin,"but seriously, can we give them to the team?"

Quinn sighs dramatically. "Yes, I suppose we can. They are gonna have to do extra laps for them, though"

"Yay!" You jump up from the couch, dragging Quinn with you, to help box up all the cookies for him to take to practice later. After boxing up all the cookies and helping Quinn take them to his car, you kiss him goodbye and reluctantly go back to your studying.

As soon as you open your laptop, you sigh, remembering why you decided to bake a hundred cookies instead of work on this stupid shit. You text Quinn to have a good practice, and with that, you get back to work.

---

Wc: 1.2k

[pupkashi]

boyfriend!yuta headcanons

a/n: i have been having major yuta brainrot as of late ,, here u guys go ! i hope these are too badly ooc seeing as though I’ve only written for him a couple times ! they’re a bit all over the place so plz lmk what y’all think :3

wordcount: 1,183

masterlist

first things first this boy is an absolute nervous wreck anytime he’s around you before he asks you out, I’m talking stuttering and fumbling over his words, looking anywhere but you, trying his best to not embarrass himself (he inevitably does poor guy)

asks you out when it’s just the two of you, on a picnic or watching a movie, his palms are sweaty because what if he just hallucinated you saying you liked him back and this is a big mistake??

okok this boy would definitely wear those ‘i love my s/o’ shirts, starts off as a joke, then wears it unironically because yeah, he does love you, what about it??

the biggest simp in the world yall, does anything you want him to, buys you whatever you want whenever you want it, you tell him jump he’s asking how high while already jumping

it’s a serious problem, considering you now have to make it clear that just because you say something is nice doesn’t mean you want it

“this sweater is nice right yuu?” “yeah it is really nice” ,,,, “yuta why do you have two bags?” “i got you the sweater in every color you like :3”

you’re always getting packages at your door, handing them to him only for him to say ‘oh that’s actually for you!’

the worst part of this is he absolutely hates when you get him something, always telling you to spend your money on yourself or save it, saying he has everything he needs already

still accepts your gifts with open arms, over the moon because ‘you really thought of me ?? i love you :(‘ he literally is ‘🥺’ if it was a person

calls you every sweet nickname he can think of: baby, babe, sweetheart, darling, my love, honey (he tends to favor my love and darling)

you tend to call him things like: baby, lover, pretty boy, angel

he turns into an absolute blushing mess when you call him pretty boy and angel, giggling and trying to not forget what he was talking to you about in the first place

the kind of boyfriend who will buy you flowers weekly, no matter what.

ever since he overheard you on the phone talking about how much you loved his ‘just because’ flowers, he made it a reoccurring purchase at a local flower shop

gets you all your favorite snacks when he just so happens to stop by at a convenience store, handing them to you with a happy grin, ‘we can have movie night with snacks now!’

has your coffee order memorized before you guys even started dating, rarely asks if you want some, usually just surprises you with it <3

he is such a homebody boyfriend :( prefers calm and cozy nights in sipping on hot chocolate cuddles in warm blankets over going out

takes you out to nice restaurants though !! especially if you like going out, he’ll take you on all kinds of dates

goes ice skating, amusement parks, the fair, laser tag (you destroyed him), escape rooms, literally everything

at restaurants if you’re between two things to order he’ll get one of the ones you want so you get try both :3

if you don’t like what you ordered he’ll swap with you / will tell you to order something different, saying he’ll take the other plate home and eat it tomorrow so you don’t feel bad abt it <3

LOVES going grocery shopping with you </3 finds it so domestic and lovely to be able to pick you celery with you (he also gets excited when you ask him what he wants to eat so you can get the stuff for it)

he’ll always tell you he wants to bake cookies and other treats with you, grabbing all the ingredients and grinning at you sheepishly when the cart starts to get full

“we came here for four things, how did you manage to make me get all these things” “cause you love me” he giggles

giggles at everything you say !!!!! topples over laughing when you tell a joke (we get it bro you love us 😭)

it’s so easy to make him blush and flustered, literally just winking at him makes his brain short circuit (let’s not get started on when you two make out) (he whimpers 🤭)

has pictures of you as his lockscreen, always smiles a bit when he unlocks his phone, when he’s away on missions he finds himself checking the time more often than he really needs to

AMAZING TEXTER !!!!! will reply to you very quickly and address all your messages and reacts to all the things you send him (everyone is amazed because is this the same yuta who left them on deliver red for three days before replying ??)

he is SO the jealous type ,, he tries not to be, really he hates having negative emotions of any kind, but he can’t help it :(

his entire demeanor changed drastically when someone starts flirting with you, he’s standing up straighter, clenching his jaw and has that threatening look on his face, no sign of the once cheerful and bubbly boy

he’s wrapping an arm around you, tugging on your hand and trying to get you alone so he can make out with you and remind both you and himself that you’re only his <33

insanely protective of you !!! he’ll be holding your hand in public, always making sure he knows where you are, in crowded areas he has one hand on your waist to help you through the crowds <33

will obliterate anyone who even tries to threaten you, ‘look at them again and you’ll be wishing i had killed you’ but in a not creepy and actually very 🦋way yk ?

really listens to you and everything you have to say, asking questions about your interests and genuinely loves listening to you talk about the things you like <3

i know he gets u literally everything but he gives you amazing and thoughtful gifts for special occasions !! he manages to always get you perfect gifts every single time <3

he compliments you everyday without fail, no matter where he is in the world, he will ALWAYS tell you how stunning you look !!!

reminds you everyday how much he loves you, telling you and leaving you little notes, writes you love letters like he’s away at war even though he’s most likely to get back before the letter even ships

cooks you dinner when he has the chance (he’s actually a pretty good cook!!) going all the way with wine (if you drink of course) and roses

uses your shampoo and conditioner sometimes because he just loves the way they smell and they remind him so much of u hehe

has your skincare routine memorized to when you’re too exhausted to do it he can do it for you <3

he’s overall just a soft and sweet lover, doing anything and everything he can for you because he knows you’re the one for him <33

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[livwritesstuff]

Something Eddie had learned during his and Steve’s past few years living in mid-western Massachusetts was that nobody parties harder than middle-aged suburbanites with their young children in the next room.

Sure, it’s a different kind of partying than what Eddie had participated in when he was younger, but still just as impressive, or so he's thinking as he stands in the crowded kitchen of a ridiculous McMansion decorated to the holiday nines, fancy IPA in hand (in a matte can and everything), four days before Christmas.

He's mingling.

Well, he’s kind of mingling. He’s had one eye on Steve, who is on the other side of the kitchen, pretty much the entire time, because Hazel, their youngest daughter, is sacked out and Steve is holding her in one arm as if she’s a newborn still and not a couple months past her first birthday like she really is (it’s providing Eddie with yet another reason he needs that kid to stop growing up, already, because he’ll never get tired of watching that man hold a baby).

Moe and Robbie are…honestly, Eddie doesn’t really know what all the kids get up to at these things. They are loud – and with an unending consistency that makes any silence deafening (and a telltale sign that some type of shit went down that they should probably check in on) – and occasionally one or two of them will barrel through the kitchen on some imaginary mission.

Eddie isn’t really even drinking. Steve is certainly doing enough for the both of them, and his way of getting himself into trouble with the other parents once he’s got a couple beers in him is entertaining enough for Eddie to not need alcohol to get through the night.

“Dude, fuckin’ Dan is making drinks,” Steve tells him early in the evening, “If he offers you a dirty Girl Scout, say no. He’s a father.”

“What the fuck is in that?”

“Vodka, creme de menthe, and chocolate whiskey.”

“Shit, that…actually sounds kind of good.”

“I know, but we’re declining in protest.”

Some time after that, Eddie ends up with Hazel. She’s awake and curiously mouthing at a peppermint cookie when Steve makes his way back to him.

“Lisa is mad at me I think,” he says as he sidles up behind Eddie, pressing himself against his back and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Watch it, handsy,” Eddie warns him, “There’s children present. What did you do to Lisa?”

“All I said was that maybe the start of a recession isn’t the best time to buy a timeshare and suddenly I have a tone.”

“Well, what did you expect?”

Not even twenty five minutes later, Steve returns.

“Evan’s parents probably aren’t gonna invite us to their New Year’s party,” Steve tells him, with the tiniest slur to his voice that might have worried Eddie if he wasn’t also holding a very large bottle of water.

“Why?”

“I dunno, man. All I said was that the fourth Christmas tree might be compensating for something and it was like I said the Armageddon was coming.”

“Alright, I think it’s time for us to head out.”

[britany1997]

Hi! I saw that requests were open, and I was hoping I could requests Poly!Lost boys (or/and with Michael if you can!) with a reader who’s owns a bakery? The boys take notice of a new shop on the boardwalk and peek in to see you.

(Reader is GN, and likes to dress cutesy as well!)

If You Give A Vampire A Cookie…

AHHHHH Michael my love🥺 yes of course I can write this for you💕💕 hope you like it!

Poly! Lost boys & Michael x GN cutesy Reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

A bundle of black leather flashed down the boardwalk as Paul zoomed around. Marko was on his heels, laughing and trailing after him, “I told you we should have put him on one of those animal backpack leashes,” Marko called back at Dwayne as Dwayne followed the two blonds.

“If he doesn’t behave he’ll find himself on a different kind of leash.” Dwayne warned.

“Ooh Paul, hear that? you’re in trouble,” Marko singsonged.

“Yeah jokes on you Dwayne, I like that shit!” Paul yelled back as he ran.

Dwayne groaned.

David smirked as he watched Dwayne attempt to control the chaos twins on his own. David much preferred to hang back, his hand possessively wrapped around Michael’s neck as the two strolled along the boardwalk.

“Stay close pet, don’t want you running off like those two,” David cooed at Michael.

Michael rolled his eyes and slithered out of David’s grip, “I’m not a child David, I think I can manage myself on the boardwalk,” he paused, “and I’m not your pet either.”

David chuckled to himself, “whatever you wanna tell yourself love,” he said as he slid his arm around Michael’s waist, pulling him against his side.

He leaned in to whisper in Michael’s ear, “but I know you don’t mind what I call you when we’re at home. Maybe you’re just a house pet huh baby?”

Michael shivered as he felt his cheeks flush pink

“Stop it,” he whispered back nervously.

David pouted in reply, “thought you liked it when i played with you pretty boy.”

Michael’s blush deepened, “can’t you keep it in your pants till we get home?”

David smirked, “what can I say, you’re irresistible.”

Michael smiled softly as David leaned in.

“HEY GUYS,” Paul’s booming voice broke the pair away from their sweet moment.

“This better be good,” David grumbled.

Paul tapped his foot as he waited for the others to catch up.

Marko and Dwayne slowed to a stop in front of the blond boy, David and Michael not far behind. They looked curiously as Paul gestured to a little white shop they’d never seen before.

As the other four boys took in the sight, Paul pressed his face up against the giant window at the front of the store. He admired the pretty cakes, beautifully frosted and decorated with plastic floral arrangements. He drooled over the warm brownies wrapped in cellophane and tied with pink bows. But his eyes widened when he caught sight of the rows and rows of cookies displayed in a tray behind the glass. He’d swear he could already taste them.

He turned back to his boyfriends, “please, please, please can we go in and get something? I’ve been so good lately!” he begged.

Dwayne scoffed, “no you haven’t.”

Paul dropped to his knees and inched towards Dwayne, his hands clasped together, “please please please please,” Paul chanted, giving Dwayne his best puppy dog eyes, those always seemed to make him cave.

Dwayne sighed as Marko bit his thumb to keep from laughing. “David, what do you think? We got time before morning?”

David checked his watch, his arm still around Michael’s waist, “yeah we got time.”

“Yes!” Paul whisper-cheered to himself.

“Not so fast blondie,” David raised an eyebrow, “you got bakery money?”

Paul’s demeanor deflated as he looked through his shoe and cringed. “Michael?” he asked sweetly.

Michael rolled his eyes but smiled, “yes Paul?”

Paul pouted at Michael, jutting his bottom lip out and furrowing his brows.

Michael laughed, “ok fine,” he walked over to hand Paul a five dollar bill.

Paul sprang up and wrapped his arms around Michael, kissing him squarely on the mouth.

“I love you Michael!” Paul exclaimed as he pulled away.

Michael smiled and blushed, “I love you too Paul.”

Paul smiled and skipped into the store, Michael’s five dollars in hand, while David crossed his arms and grumbled.

Dwayne bumped David with his elbow as Marko and Michael slipped through the door. “C’mon, they need constant supervision,” he reminded David.

“Been tryna kiss him all night but nooo crazy blond shakes him down and he gets a smooch. Bullshit.” David mumbled under his breath as he followed Dwayne inside.

As David passed through the doorway his jaw dropped.

Michael, Marko, and Paul were already crowded around the counter talking to the most attractive human he’d ever seen (besides Michael of course).

You were wearing the palest pink uniform, and the brightest smile. He found himself absolutely transfixed.

As he approached his circle of boyfriends, he heard Paul’s persistent flirting.

“All these snacks baby but you gotta be the sweetest thing in here,” Paul winked, leaning over the counter.

You blushed, “that’s so kind of you to say, can I get you anything?”

“Yeah honey, give me three sugar cookies, I’m not real liquid right now…” he said as he hid the fiver in his back pocket, “you take kisses?”

You smirked and laughed, “I take money.”

He mock-pouted, “that’s ok sugar, I was gonna give ‘em to you for free anyway.”

Paul leaned in, but was caught by the back of the collar by Michael. “Sorry about him,” he said blushing.

Michael swiped the money from Paul’s back pocket and handed it to you, “for the sugar cookies,” he said, flustered.

“I’ll bring them right out,” you smiled.

Michael sighed wistfully as he watched you turn to grab the cookies from the back.

“What the hell man?” Paul asked, “I was about to seal the deal!”

“Paul,” Dwayne interjected, “what did we say about kissing strangers?”

“It’s fun?” Paul guessed.

“Don’t do it.” Dwayne and Michael corrected at the same time.

Paul pouted.

You pushed past the double doors, your arms filled with sweets.

“You all are the first customers I’ve had since I opened so I threw in a couple extra things,” you blushed.

You handed Paul the three sugar cookies, leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek.

He flashed you a dopey smile as his hand flew to his cheek. “I’ll never wash this cheek again,” he sighed.

You giggled, “I sure hope that’s not true, you’d think you’d wanna keep a pretty face like that clean.”

It was taking all of Paul’s self-control not to jump over the counter and shower you with sloppy wet kisses.

You turned to Marko handing him a Sfogliatella. His eyes widened in shock, “I love Sfogliatella! I haven’t been able to find them anywhere,” he told you.

“My grandma’s recipe,” you smiled, “I love them too, I haven’t really seen ‘em anywhere in the U.S., so why not make them myself.”

Marko melted.

You looked at Dwayne, placing a chocolate chip cookie in his hand. “Dark chocolate chips instead of milk chocolate,” you told him.

“For a richer flavor?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Exactly!” you beamed, “thought you’d like it.”

His lips turned up into a half-smile, “thank you, that’s so thoughtful.”

You moved to Michael and offered him a big, gooey, brownie.

He blushed as he took it from your outstretched hands, “these are my favorite, how’d you know?” he furrowed his brow in confusion.

You shrugged, “call it baker’s intuition, you strike me as a brownie guy.”

He blushed, “talk about a sixth sense,” he mumbled, “you really are the sweetest thing in here.”

Your face flushed at his words as Paul grumbled that Michael had ‘stolen his line.’

David cleared his throat, “nothin for me love?” he raked his eyes over your form.

You laughed, “you just didn’t strike me as a sweets guy,” you clarified as you poured him a cup of coffee.

When you finished, you offered him the styrofoam cup, which he took from your gratefully.

“Clever little thing aren’t you?” he flirted.

“I like to think so,” you winked.

David’s smile spread across his whole face, “well if you aren’t the cutest thing…” he trailed off as he leaned on the counter.

Dwayne cleared his throat, prompting David to check his watch. Shit. Sunrise was coming.

He frowned, “gotta get goin’ sweet but we’ll be back,” he promised, winking.

You bit your lip, “I hope so, I’m here every night.”

You blushed as each boy reluctantly pulled themselves away and strolled out the door.

You couldn’t help but think moving your business to Santa Carla was the smartest decision you’d ever made.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@consuming-karma @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @bloodywickedvamp @pixielostboy @gothamslostboy @dwaynesluscioushair @paulxbathbomd @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @warrior-616 @anna1306 @riz-coolgirl @flower-crowned-lady @feardot-com @its-freaking-bats @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @cherryfrostbites

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow; 8

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The door was fixed with great haste. Before you knew it, you were back in the apartment playing housewife again. Coriolanus’s distrust of you grew to a new level. He no longer trusted you to remain home by yourself. Edmund was still not found, and Coriolanus was certain he would reappear and take you away.

You now worked with him, slept with him, and ate every meal with him. The fence line seemed like an impossible goal with him being so suffocating. You were pretty sure the broken chain was not found. He would have said something, would have taunted you with how close your freedom was. It meant you had something up your sleeve against him.

But you had no way of getting to it. You had tried to disappear during his work hours, when he was most distracted, but the only time you seemed to be out of his sight was when you showered. If there had been a window in the bathroom, you were sure that he would have been in there too.

You tried your best to soften him with affection. When you had the chance, you baked him the oatmeal cookies he loves. He ate whole plates in one sitting.

But as his work increased, your work decreased. Long days spent at his office were hard to fill. He sat behind his desk and never seemed to stop working. Sometimes there was mending you could do, or shoes to shine but most of the day you sat on the couch reading what was on hand.

You had taken to organizing the books in alphabetical order, then grouped them according to color. You worked quietly and slowly. Careful not to make any noise to disturb Coriolanus from his work. You had taken them down again just moments ago to reorganize them by subject when Coriolanus' assistant came in carrying a tea tray and a large parcel. 

She drops the parcel down on the table in front of you, amongst the books. You look over it to see your name neatly scribbled on the recipient's information. 

The receptionist doesn’t look at you as she puts the tea tray in front of Coriolanus. 

He thanks her but her response is drowned out to your ears by the opening of the box. 

“Is it from Tigris?” 

You wait until the receptionist shuts the door behind her to respond. 

You confirmed it was, as you pulled a soft silk nightdress from the box. It was light pink which was uncommon for the districts. Dark pink lace trimming boarded along the bottom and top of the dress. You run your finger across it. It was the most expensive material you had ever felt. 

Another dress was folded in the box and you take it out. 

It was light blue with yellow birds flying across it, made of a soft cotton material that would fall around your ankles. 

“You like them?” he asks.

“They are beautiful,” you admit. 

You look in the box for more to see a small pouch filled with sweets from the Capitol. 

Tigris was too kind. If things had been different, you would have been a good friend to her. But as her cousin's captive, you were now sworn enemies. The box of treats didn’t change that. 

You return the items to the box and see parchment paper protecting soft material at the bottom. 

“There's a shirt for you.” It was a long white dress shirt with gold stitching running in horizontal lines down it. 

He comes from his desk to collect it. Taking it gently from your hands, he brings it up to his nose and inhales the scent. 

“You really miss home,” you comment, watching him breathe in the scent the shirt carried. 

“I do. More than anything.” He returns to his desk with it still in his hands. 

“You’ll be home soon.” 

“We’ll be home soon”. 

You smile thinly at him. “That’s what I said.” 

“You should see the Capitol. Clothing, culture. Actual buildings, not these pieces of tin. You’ll be able to breathe much better in the Capitol.” 

The scratching of his pen picked up where his sentence had been incomplete as he began his work again. The shirt lay across his lap. 

“I have the day off tomorrow,” he said without stopping his work, “I was thinking we could visit the waterfall again. It will probably be the last time before Ravinstill dies.” 

The thought made your stomach drop. If you don’t make it beyond the fence, it would in fact be the last time you ever saw your favorite place. The time was better spent within the compound waiting for an opportunity. He would never let you get too far in the district. 

“I’d prefer not to.” 

“Why?” he questions with a hard tone. He continued to write but the pen pressed firmly into the paper. 

“I am behind on my chores, and I haven’t made anything in a while. The food in the fridge will go bad if I don’t get to it soon.” 

“Let it. The Capitol is full of food.”

You realize now that Coriolanus had already made up his mind to do the activity. You wondered why he chose it. He hated the heat and the bugs. 

You walk over to the tray of hot tea and pour out a cup, making it to his liking and placing it down in front of him. 

“We’ll go if you want to.” 

“Why don’t you want to go?”

“Why do you want to? The walk up there will take us nearly the whole morning in the hot sun.” 

“I thought it might make you happy.” 

He was trying to win your approval before he ripped everything you had ever known from your finger tips. It was something to use against him. Coriolanus responded best when he was in a position to be a hero. He would do anything so long as he felt he was the only one who could do it for you. 

You lean down and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your face against his neck. 

“You know what would make me happy? Some vanilla extract so I can send Tigris some shortbread cookies back”.

He responds positively by wrapping his hands around your forearms. He liked you looking out for Tigris. 

“She’s been asking to meet you.” He says, his hand gently wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “I have a call with them next Friday afternoon. Maybe you’d like to come with.” 

You retract your hold now that he was in a better mood. 

There was only one answer you could give him when it came to his family. 

“I’d love to”. 

You had a deep hate for Capitol people but Tigris seems different. In any case, you were sure you could remain civil for an hour-long phone call. 

Pouring yourself a cup of tea, you return to your spot with it and Coriolanus returns to his work. 

———- 

 You stood out in the sun with Coriolanus as he discussed the new recruits' performance with another high-ranking officer. They were splitting them up into areas of work. The strong and fast became foot soldiers, the slow were put on kitchen duty, and the ones who showed a inclination to aggression were watchmen. He spared a couple to the infantry to learn basic medic care and help around the hospital. You couldn't work out what sent those recruits apart. It seemed random but you knew nothing Coriolanus did was without great care and strategy.

All the men seemed equally angry and you wondered if Coriolanus was the same when he was a Peacekeeper. 

The sun felt nice upon your skin after so long. It was late afternoon and it had just begun to set, leaving behind a nice cool breeze. 

You thought about your mother and Edmund. Were they enjoying the sun too? 

The sound of a vehicle approaching ruined the moment of reflection. Coriolanus took your hand in his as soon as the tires upon the gravel could be heard as if you were to be run over if he didn’t. 

It surprisingly stopped in front of where you stood. A transport car with no doors and a large trunk carried two men. A younger man wearing a District 12 peacekeeper uniform and an older man who wore a Commander uniform set apart by its light purplish color. 

“Commander.” The older man greets as he swings out of the car. 

“Vongurt.” Coriolanus uses his spare hand to offer a handshake which is strongly and fervently taken. 

Another Commander had come to see Coriolanus. You doubted he was any better than the last. 

“This is my wife, Y/N.” With his hand, he leads you in front of him to show you off to the Commander.

You were stiff with shock as the man's disapprovingly raked his eyes over you. He too felt jarred at the label of wife. District women weren’t wives. They were barely considered human.

But he smiles nonetheless, something you couldn’t return.

“Pleasure.” With a kiss placed upon your hand, the Commander's attention was turned back to Coriolanus.

 “Your compound is impressive, Commander Snow. It has to be the largest I’ve seen.” 

Coriolanus seemed unimpressed by the comment. He turns back to the Peacekeepers watching them as they leap, and fight. 

“A palace of scrap metal.” 

He waves over a tall man in a high-ranking uniform, who quickly makes his way over from across the field. 

“Your apartment is only slightly better. Sergeant AJ will take you there.” 

“I was hoping that we could talk. I’ve come all this way from District 2.”

“Later, Commander. The conference room at 7. You’ll have my undivided attention there.” 

The man nods back and follows his guide back into the car. 

Coriolanus makes a comment to his officer about a recruit and the man jotted down all of his thoughts. 

You wanted to get away. Break free from his hold and bolt to the fence line. His delusions had reached a new height, with him now openly telling lies to men with power. 

Your body moves to your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized you were twisting your hand away from him until he tightened his hold. 

He turns to you, asking if you are ok. 

“I need to go home” you respond. Home to my mother. Back home to normalcy. 

“Take whoever we missed today and regroup them tomorrow morning” he directs the man next to him. A whistle is blown and the recruits stop their training, instead they congregate in front of you. 

Coriolanus turns as his officer begins to dish out instructions, taking you back to the apartment. 

“The heat can get to you,” he says. 

You had lived in District 12 all your life if anyone was to know about the heat it was you. But you verbally agree and apologize for taking him away from his work. 

He hushes you and it ends the conversation for the walk home. 

He lets you go as you enter your prison, and you take off without him to the bedroom. 

You hear his voice wafting down the hallway telling you to lie down. You shove your boots off and get into bed. Every day your window closes. It won’t be long before either the broken fence is found or you are carted off on the train. 

But he had called you his wife. Not just to anyone but a Capitol Commander. Even if you got away, the idea that he would leave you here for the presidency is just a fantasy. 

How long would you need to live in hiding before he forgot you? Could you bear the costs of it for as long as needed? What work could you do in the mountains to support yourself and your mother? 

Wife. Why did he have to say wife? You weren’t that. You were his captive, a victim of his need to be cared for. 

Coriolanus enters the room with a wet, cold rag and runs it over your forehead. A victim of his need to pretend he was capable of caring for something. 

He sits on the bed beside you running the cloth over your forehead and into your hair. 

“Do you feel alright?” he asks as you take the cloth off him. 

“I am fine. Just a little lightheaded.” You throw the cloth on the bed stand and he takes it as a signal to get up. 

“I’ll get you some water.”

He disappears and you're thankful for the space to think. Could you tell him you just need a walk around the compound by yourself to think? No, he would take it as an insult. 

You had to get out. The fence was so close. 

You don’t notice him as he sits back down beside you. Only the glass to your lips made you see him. 

“I won’t go to the meeting with Vongurt if you are unwell.” 

You sit up straighter at his words, pushing the glass away from you. 

“No!” you say harshly, “No, you should go. I am fine.” 

“You don’t look well.” You were sure you looked terrible after you had the shock of your life. 

“But I feel fine. Just too much sun.” 

He looked annoyed that you were arguing with him so you switched tactics. 

“We need his support to get back to the Capitol. Maybe you could just leave the door open for some fresh air?” 

You had pushed too hard, and he got up

“If I am not here, the door is shut.”

“Of course,” you breathe with a soft smile at him, “I’ll be fine by the time you have to leave.”

Coriolanus hovered around you for the next hour and a half before he had to start getting ready for his meeting. He took a shower to wash the sweat off him from the day and changed into his official outfit. It fit snugly, his broad shoulders carried the uniform well. 

He attached the dressings of his uniform as you watched him from the bed. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight. What if you feel unwell while I am away?” His fingers were still on the badge he was trying to put on. 

“I am fine,” you assure him, “I feel fine.” 

“We should invite him here. That way if you need me, I am here.” 

You cringed at the thought of serving Commander Vongurt. 

“I won’t need you. Besides the conference room is much nicer.” You get up to help him put on his badge and send him on his way. 

“I haven’t felt unwell since dinner.” Coriolanus stood over you as you cooked, convinced that the heat in the kitchen would make you unwell again. With a knife in your hand, it was a dangerous time for Coriolanus to tell you what to do.

“You’re sure?” he pokes. 

You were tired of saying it so you just nodded your head. 

“Go to the bathroom then.” 

It was an odd request. 

“What?” you question. 

“Go to the bathroom and take a shower. Get changed into your night dress.”

He checks his watch once before motioning you forward. 

There was no other option for you then to follow his request. You thought maybe he just wanted to complete the bed time routine. He wanted to know you were washed and dressed for bed for his own comfort. You never knew what made him tick. 

You complete the tasks quickly and return to find he had placed a glass of water and a packet of dried mixed fruit.

You quiz him on it but he doesn’t answer. He takes your wrist in his hand and tugs you to the bed.

Taking out his handcuffs, he clips your wrist into the cuff, pulling it up to the headboard where he attached the other cuff. 

You tug against it in protest. “What are you doing?”

“Just in case, Edmund comes back.”

“He won’t! Please unlock me.” you beg. 

“I left your book there if you are not ready to sleep yet.” He stands tall and readjusts his uniform. 

“Coriolanus!” You say in a serious tone, “Get this off of me.”

You pull against it brutally and he captures your hand against the headboard. 

“I left you one hand so you can read. I don’t have to.” 

“Please, don’t leave me here like this!” He ignores you, bending down once more to flick on the lamp. 

“You’ve had a big day. Try and rest. I’ll be home soon.” 

“Coriolanus!” you call out watching him leave. He flicks off the main light as he goes. 

“Coriolanus!” you yell. 

You had never felt anger as you lay trapped in bed. He dictated when you worked, when you rested, when you ate. Nothing was yours anymore. Every breath you took was only because he allowed you to take it. 

There was nothing to tell the time on. It felt like years waiting for him to come back and release you. You didn’t read, only plotted. 

Could you feed him something to make him sick? Surely he would request you to come see him in the infirmary. You could break away when returning from your visit. What if he caught you trying to poison him though? 

Friday provided the perfect opportunity. While he was distracted with his family you could sneak away. The communication building was on the other side of the compound but at least you would be outside of the apartment. 

But how would you get away far enough to make a break for it? You thought about what was in the surrounding area of the communications building. Nothing would be a reasonable excuse to pardon yourself. 

Could you excuse yourself to the bathroom? Surely one of the surrounding offices would have one. Would he let you go alone? Sacrifice time with his family to take you. Would he even let you go or just expect you to make do until the phone call was over? 

You came up with twenty different scenarios of escape routes, each one ended with Coriolanus catching you. 

You wished you didn’t shoo Edmund away now. He could have got the door opened in time. It was only your fearfulness that stood in the way of your escape. You could be with him now, with your mother. Up in the mountains, safe and sound. 

God, you hoped they were safe and well-fed. 

You wished for nothing more than to tend to your mother, to ensure that she was alright. 

The care that was supposed to go to her was now unjustly turned towards Coriolanus, who was adamant to wring it from your hands. 

Edmund had always taken whatever care you gave him with great appreciation. 

Never demanded more, and then took it with force. 

He was kind and patient. Two things Coriolanus is not. 

And now you have dragged him into this mess where his life is at great risk. Still, he had never demanded any more from you. 

When his lips first met yours, they were placed almost in questioning. It was up to you to accept and beg for more. 

You wished you had seen his affection for you sooner. But he was your brother's best friend, and the main protector of you and your mother. If Coriolanus never entered the picture you doubt he ever would have acted on it. 

But he had, and you had returned the affection. It was the start of something new and beautiful or the end of years of friendship and familiarity. 

Once Coriolanus went back to the Capitol, your new life would begin. 

You hoped it would be alongside Edmund. You would pay him back for his bravery.

You would be a good girlfriend to him, then wife, and then mother of his children. You would never ask him for anything, and take great care of his family life. You would ensure his happiness, as he ensures your life now. 

You almost forget you were chained to the bed of the Commander as you daydream of brown-haired babies. But the sound of Coriolanus arriving home was a solemn reminder. His boots against the hardwood floor soften as they reach the bedroom door. 

You still had a great challenge before you got to nurse Edmund’s children. 

You had to get away from Coriolanus, and the only way you could do that is if he had no idea that you planned to. 

The door creaks open and you sit up straight to watch him enter. 

“I am sorry. Did I wake you?” He places his coat on the foot of the bed and crawls over to where you lay. 

“No. I was waiting for you.”

He smiles down at you as he unlocks the cuff from your wrist with the keys in his pocket.

“You seem happy,” you comment. You could smell the whiskey on his clothes as he leaned over you.

“I am. I have you. I have Commander Vongurt’s support behind me, and Ravinstill is not expected to last the winter. We’ll be home before you know it.”

Throwing the keys on his bedside table, he leans down to kiss you before resting his head on your collarbone.

“That’s not long,” you comment. 

“Three months at the most.”

You drowned in your anxiety quietly as he rested. 

Three months and your life was over. 

 He takes your silence as a quiet contemplation. 

“Are you thinking of your mother?” he runs a curled finger along your nose.

“Yeah. I’ll miss her”. You hope to never have to know the pain of missing her again. These past few weeks have been unbearable.

“You’ll write. I’ll organize a time she can come to the compound for video calls.”

You were sure he was going to let you write and call. For how long was another thing. You could see it already, your calls being cut short, your letters ‘lost’ in the mail.

“Yeah,” you respond again.

Your mind races with ideas of escape. You could fake a sickness and be sent to the medical camp. No, he wouldn’t send you there. He panicked today over a supposed case of heatstroke. 

He lowers his head down closer to you where you can smell the evening on him.

“You want to know what I was thinking?” he asks playfully.

You could start a fire during dinner time. He was sure to open the door to let you out before dealing with the flames.

“Yeah?” you entertain. Fire could go wrong for a number of reasons. Besides you would have to fight your way to the oven. Especially now that Commander Vongurt was here. Coriolanus would be too busy to wait for you to cook something.

“I was thinking I hope we have a boy first. Then two girls, then another boy.”

Your eyes shoot open as his hand reaches out across your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt and he lays a warm palm over your belly.

Then again, a big enough fire might kill him. Was it worth a shot?

“You called me your wife today. That’s not true.”

“What else should I have called you? We sleep together, eat together, wake together. We look after each other. The only thing missing is an official title but as soon as we get back to the Capitol, we’ll fix that.”

You turn away from him to your side. Now that the talk of the Capitol was becoming a more serious threat, you felt sick.

“Did I scare you with talk of babies? It wouldn’t be for a few more years yet.”

His rants did scare you. That would be your life if you didn’t figure out a way to the fence. Nursing Commander Snow’s babies in the Capitol. Away from your mother. Away from Edmund.

Still, you had to perform. You couldn’t let any more distrust between him and you grow. 

“You didn’t scare me. I am just tired. I’ve waited up all night for you.”

You feel a soft kiss press against your ear before the weight of the bed was shifted as he moved.

“Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He leans over you once more to flick off the light. You hear him walk out to the bathroom to take a shower.

Could you force him to give you the keys? The chain was still dangling from the headboard. If you could somehow get his wrist caught, you could threaten him with a kitchen knife. You shake the thought from your head. You couldn’t hurt him with a knife. You were sure even one-handedly, he could take it off you if you tried.

You just needed a distraction, just two seconds when his attention wasn’t on you to escape.

Wet, salty tears rolled down your cheeks as you lay in the dark, but you made no sound.

You were still awake when he returned from his shower, dressed in his pajamas. Thinking you are asleep he is slow and quiet as he rejoins you in bed.

He curls up against your back and rests his hand on your stomach as if there is something already inside. He wasn’t going to wait a few more years. He said it purely for your comfort.

He dreamt of being a young President with a baby on the way. And another one close after that, and another, and another. He would undo history. He would have as many baby Coriolanus’s and Tigris’ as it took to heal the past.

Watching you nurture, feed, and play with his children would overtake his memories of fighting for his life when he should have been nursed by his mother.

He felt as if he was in the area but soon to be crowned Victor. President Ravinstill just had to die before he could have it all.

His destiny that had been interrupted when his father died but was now back on track. From birth, Coriolanus Snow was supposed to be the man who had it all. Not some impoverished boy, hanging on to his father’s legacy.

When he died, he would be remembered as his own man. Not as the shadow of his father.

Coriolanus Snow; Beloved President of Panem, star pupil of the Academy, Plinth Prize winner, devoted husband and father, and Victor of the games. Coriolanus would be remembered as the man who had it all.

You lay awake under him. The smell of alcohol mixed with the scent of his soap. It burnt your nose as you inhaled. 

 President Ravinstill could die tonight. There was no guarantee that he would even make it to winter. You had to get out. If you made it to the Capitol, you would never get back home. 

While he was intoxicated was your best chance. He seemed so still now, you could take the keys off the nightstand and go through everyone. You were sure he wouldn’t wake, not until it was too late. You remember when your father drank on special occasions, he would sleep for 14 hours at a time. Coriolanus was sure to sleep for at least half that. 

You wait until you can’t feel him twitch before you rise from bed. Very slowly, very carefully, you peel yourself from him, shoving a pillow in your place. He doesn’t move from your actions so you continue over to his nightstand where his key ring is laid. 

Rows and rows of keys looped together. They jingle as you pick them up. Panic runs like ice up your spin as you turn back to see Coriolanus; unmoved and unknowing. 

You wrap your hand around as many keys as you can to stop further noise and make your way to the door. Checking every few steps to ensure he wouldn’t turn up behind you. 

The floor creeks as you pass the hallways to the living room but no other sound follows as you cross the kitchen to the door. 

You start at the very first key. It slots in but refuses to turn. Moving on to the next, and the next in methodological order, bypassing the ones that were too big or small to be entertained. 

You try numerous times but the right key is buried among the many. 

Feeling as if it had been hours since the first key, you felt confident that it was coming up. 

You stuck a key in with no resistance. The hope that died in you reappeared as the lock turned with the key. 

But all too soon it died again, as you felt a hand snake into your hair. It yanks your head harshly back and you find yourself pressed against Coriolanus. 

“That key will get stuck in the door, and it’d be a great pain to get it out again.” 

His hand in your hair pulls you back. 

“I was just going to the kitchen to get some ingredients for a hangover cure. I was coming back.” His hand twists unforgivably in your hair as you make your plea. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he seethes. 

“I am not!” You protest, trying to break free from his grasp. 

“You think I am some type of fool?” 

 Reaching over you, he takes the keys out of the door and leads you back to the bedroom. 

“Coriolanus. Please just listen to me.” 

“If I had listened to you, I would have left the door opened. You spoiled, deceiving, little bitch.” 

He was still drunk. You could smell it from his breath. 

You thought it would make him complacent but it instead made him more violent. 

“I was getting you my father's hangover cure.” 

You stumble as he pushes you over the doorway. 

“You need to trust me, Coriolanus.” 

He shoves you until you are back to your side of the bed. 

“I don’t.”

He throws the keys hard across the room to free his hands. 

“I trust you.” You don’t fight him as he recuffs your chain, instead you willingly go along with it. 

For good measure, you place a kiss on his cheek which throws him off guard. 

“I don’t trust you.” he reiterated softly. 

“That’s ok,” you state, “One day you will. We’ll have a happy life together. You, me, and our children.” 

He looks perplexed at your words but makes no further comment as he lays down by your side, resting his head on you. 

“I’ve tried my best to take care of you. To make you happy.”

“You have.” you console. You were no longer worried about President Ravinstill lasting the night, but rather yourself. 

“Then why-”

“I wasn’t running. I was trying to take care of you.” 

His face turns into your skin. You bring your free hand up to his head and press it down. 

“Everything is ok. Just go to sleep. You’re drunk. You don’t mean it.” 

You run your fingertips up and down starting from behind his ear, down to the bottom of his neck, and up again. You do it until you feel his shallow breaths upon your skin, only then do you release the tears from your eyes.

When you wake the next morning, your wrist is free and Coriolanus is not in bed. 

You rise to find him in the kitchen, frying bacon. Maybe he was too intoxicated last night to remember his anger towards you.

“Good morning,” you offer. He doesn’t return the greeting. Maybe he did remember last night, and you were in a lot of trouble. 

“How are you feeling?” you try again. 

“What’s your father's hangover cure?”

“Two eggs, hot sauce, milk, salt, pepper, and honey”. Your father did not have a hangover cure and it did not include hot sauce or honey, both of which were considered luxury items in the District. 

He looks for the ingredients, slamming the cupboards he turns towards you. “All here.”

“Oh,” you comment, “That’s good. Did you want me to make you one?”

The bacon pops in the pan and you rush over to distract yourself with it. 

“Sit down. I’ll take over cooking”. The bacon was overcooked to the point where it would be barely edible. 

“So what did you need for the compound kitchen last night?”

“I didn’t know we had the items. It's been that long since I cooked, I just assumed we were out.” 

“You assumed you wouldn’t get caught.” 

You sigh. Coriolanus in a bad mood would only mean bad things for you. 

“I wasn’t running. I was trying to help. Are you always going to doubt me?”

“Yes.” he answers, pulling the pan back off you. 

He dumps the bacon onto a plate and takes it to the kitchen table. You begin to clean up after him as he sits and eats. 

The plate is still full by the time he is telling you to go get ready for the day. 

You put on the blue sun dress he likes which acts as a two-second buffer for his anger when he sees you. 

He had paused in the middle of throwing his bacon into the trash. Such a waste of food. You thought. 

But he was determined to stay in his mood. He slides the empty plate across the counter. 

“I am late for work,” he says. 

It was unusual for him not to hold your hand as you walked to his office. You would have to work hard today to please him. 

His tea was already sat upon his desk when you arrived and you rushed to pour him one.

He doesn’t drink it. It goes cold as he does his work. 

You try extra hard to be quiet.  There was sewing left from yesterday which you begin to complete. 

“We still haven’t found your mother,” he says out of the blue after a morning of not speaking or looking at you. 

His words filled you with confidence. If you could get to the mountains, at least you knew you were safe.

He doesn’t look up as he speaks. 

“Edmund hasn’t returned to his house but there was a rumor that he was swapping meat for medical supplies just yesterday.”

What would he need medical supplies for? You wondered. Was your mother okay? Was he okay?

You needed to see them to make sure.

“He’s probably hiding with your mother in what’s left of the forest. Don’t worry. We’ll find him and bring your mother home.”

It was a disguised threat. He was trying to get a rise out of you. 

“Good,” you comment. Keep searching the forest while they remain safe in the mountains.

“Good.” he repeats back.

A comfortable silence returns as you both go back to work, but it’s interrupted by his secretary bursting through the doors.

“Sir! Sir!” she gasps. Coriolanus shot up from his chair.

“Commander Vongurt is angry!”

You follow him without a word out of the office.

“The courtyard!” the secretary directs.

You fall behind his fast pace and reach for him blindly to keep from falling too far behind.

A crowd had formed by the time you reached the courtyard. You could hear the familiar sound of flogging and painful cries.

The crowd parts as Coriolanus approaches. In the middle of the bystanders was Commander Vongurt and a young boy curled on the dirt floor.

Coriolanus looks upon the same boy who failed to hit the target on the hot day.

Grabbing the baton from the Commander, he throws it to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Commander Snow,” Vongurt was out of breath from exerting himself in his beating, “This boy is a disgrace to your legacy. I caught him passing scraps to the prisoners through the bars.”

With the protection of Coriolanus, you felt safe enough to speak out, “He’s just a boy.”

“Take him to the jail. He can sleep there for a week if he likes their company so much.”

“Coriolanus!” you take his arm and tug it. He gives you a harsh look and you know you won’t be able to persuade him.

The boy cries out and begins to beg as he is carted away by two others.

“Coriolanus, please!” You tug his arm once more and he hits you harshly across the cheek.  

You stumble upon the impact. The men shuffle away from you as you try and regain your footing. 

Coriolanus takes your arm in a harsh grip, pulling you back in the right direction but he is turned to speak to Vonngurt.

“District 12 is my district. Next time you feel like taking discipline into your own hands, don’t.”

The older Commander nods his head, but you can see he is displeased to have been spoken to in such a manner.

“Let’s go.” He was now talking to you and shoving you forcefully in front of himself back to the office.

You tear yourself free as the door shuts behind you.

“You don’t dictate my decisions.”

Your nose is clogged from your tears. You couldn’t tell if you were crying out of pain or anger. Your brain was still trying to catch up.

“Calling my name,” he says astonished, “It doesn’t matter if you disagree with my decision. Your job is to support me.”

He catches you as you try to make your way from him and he tosses you to the couch, where he stands over you. 

“You embarrassed me. Vongurt already thinks I can’t control my Peacekeepers, now he thinks I can’t control my women as well.”

You cup your bruised cheek. This wasn’t about Vongurt. He was still hurting about your attempt last night. All day he was looking for a reason to lash out, Vongurt only provided the opportunity. 

You were put back on defense. With only at most a month before you were carted off to the Capitol, mistakes couldn’t be afforded.

“I am sorry.” you choke out.  

He squinted his eyes, bringing his hand up to his head before throwing it back again, “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” you spit. There is no sincerity in your voice. 

“Look at me when I am talking to you.” He takes your chin into his hand and pulls it up to his eye level. “Ravinstill is expected to die shortly. This behavior of yours cannot be brought back to the Capitol.”

“It won’t be. I am sorry.” Your fists clench by your side.

He turns your chin to expect your cheek. 

“I did it too. That’s the only reason I spoke out. I would have been thrown in jail too.” you contend.  

He lets go of your chin and stands up to full height, “You think a Peacekeeper would get the same punishment as a District? No. You would have been hanged. Yet another reason to be loyal to me. I’ve saved you.”

“I am loyal to you. Grateful for you.” You get up and follow him as he makes his way to his desk. 

“Coriolanus, please don’t be mad at me. I was only ever trying to help.” 

You sob ugly causing him to spin around. Your cheek hurt, and you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders trying to get away within such a short time frame. You were overwhelmed with the whole scenario and the thought of dealing with Coriolanus as he looked for opportunities to lash out was too much to bear. 

He softens upon your unraveled composure, taking you into his arms. 

“Stop crying. It’s okay”. You feel him rest his head on top of yours. “I am just a little wound up trying to get everything in order. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I am sorry.” 

You smile slightly, he is back on defense. 

—------

Friday came quickly. The call wasn’t until the afternoon so you spent the whole day as a ball of anxiety. 

But at least you had a plan. On evening walks you took more notice of the building surrounding the communications tent, and saw a nurse carrying a load of blankets into a building of washing machines. 

There were few things Coriolanus let you do alone, washing was one of them.

The washing machine in the apartment would need to be dealt with. But the long hours spent in his office meant that the dirty clothes were piling up. He would demand a fresh uniform for work. If you left it close to his phone call with his family, he was sure to let you go. 

You push it out for as long as you can. He had wanted to leave ten minutes ago but you kept pressing him for one more minute. 

You had taken small rocks from the ground during your afternoon walk, telling Coriolanus you would like to take a part of home back to the Capitol with you. He had allowed you to collect a small jar, you picked the biggest rocks you could find. 

Big enough to jam the pipes of the washing machine. 

“Darling, please. We have to leave.” He bangs on the door of the washing room. 

You finish shoving the rocks as far as they would go down the pipe. It made an awful sound as the washing machine ate them up causing the water to rise. 

“Coriolanus,” you call. As soon as you open the door, he grabs your arm, ready to yank you out. 

“Coriolanus. The machine is broken. Look.”

He barely glaces at it, “ I’ll send someone to fix it. Let’s go.” 

“I need to do the washing,” you pick up the basket as he pulls you from the room, “Can I use the compound washing machines?”

“That’s fine. Just move, we are late.” 

You struggle to keep up with him as he rushes along the compound. He hated it if his phone call was cut short by even a second. Now he was two minutes late and he was almost running to make up time for it. 

You reach the building in record time. He lets go of you to pick up speed, leaving you by the door as he hurries.

He rushes to the small screen, not bothering to sit down on the wooden chair as he twisted the knobs. “Tigris, Tigris? Can you hear me?” 

He must have heard a voice on the other side as he broke out into a smile. It was a pretty, genuine smile that you had not seen before. 

“Hey,’’ he laughs.  You watch from where you stand by the door. He seemed almost unrecognizable. A young boy sent away to a summer camp instead of a ruthless and ambitious Commander. “I am sorry. The washing machine broke. How are you?”

His tone is light and happy as he talks to Tigris. You wonder if he had forgotten he even brought you. He didn’t glance at you as he spoke, giving her his full attention. 

You wonder if it is best to make your exit now but his words stop you.

“She’s here.” he waves you over. You drop the basket in coming to him. You wondered what Tigris would look like. What she would sound like. 

Coriolanus holds out the receiver for you. You peer at the screen to see a blonde girl in colorful clothing before you put the receiver to your ear. 

“Hello,” you greet. 

“Oh!” Tigris croons. She pulls the receiver away from her mouth to lessen her shout, “Grandma’am come see!”

She smiles as she turns her attention back to you, “Oh, Coryo has talked so much about you.”

“What is she saying?” Coriolanus places his hands on your hip and pulls down so you are sitting on his knee. 

“She’s said you’ve talked about me,” you answer. 

He smiles gently at you, turning the receiver in your hand out between you. 

An older woman comes too close into the frame and Tigris pulls her back. 

“Is that her?” the old woman asks Tigris who nods. 

“Girl-Girl.” she talks into the speaker. 

“Yes, Ma’am?” 

“You must be grateful he is sending you back to the Capitol. Don’t ruin it like the last one.” 

Coriolanus snatches the receiver away from your ear to soften her words but you heard them any way. 

“Grandma’am is unwell,” he tells you, “Pay her no mind.” 

Tigris takes back the receiver and positions it in a similar fashion to Coriolanus. 

“Did you get the dresses I sent?” 

“I did. Thank you. I was hoping to send you back some shortbread but Coriolanus has been busy with work.” 

“He was saying you cook. Grandma’am and I are so excited to meet you!” 

“Me too,” you lie. “I hear the Capitol is wonderful. I look forward to exploring it with you.” 

Tigris laughs. She was beautiful, you thought. Perhaps too popular to be showing you the capital. You felt foolish for even lying about it. 

“We’ll have a ball. I’ll show you all around.” 

“In time,” Coriolanus interjects. The chains around you would not loosen just because you were in the Capitol. “The Capitol is big. There’ll be time to see it all.” 

You let Coriolanus take over the talking. Only offering agreements or soft smiles as the Snow women talk. 

The family soon falls into a comfortable way of talking. You had said next to nothing for the last 10 minutes, and it had gone unnoticed. It was time to make your way. 

You slowly rise from Coriolanus who latches out on your arm. 

“I’ll just put the washing on. That way it will be done by the time we finish.” 

He tugs you back down causing you to fall into him. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Tigris almost cringe. 

“We’ll do it later,” he demands. 

“We’ll be washing well into the night if we leave it any longer. I’ll just pop it on. I’ll be five minutes.”

His face twisted with his words but you kissed him to stop them from leaving his mouth. It was the first time you had ever kissed him on the lips. You could tell by the way his mouth stilled that he was surprised. 

“Five minutes.” You kiss his bottom lip to quell any fight he has in him. Grabbing the phone in the meantime. 

“Tigris. Grandma. I’ll just be 5 Minutes to put the washing on”.

Tigris smiles at you, letting you know that it is fine. You could just barely hear Grandma’am make a comment about how the people in the Capitol don't do their own washing but it is cut off by you shoving the phone back in Coriolanus's hand. 

He cups your face to bring you down for another kiss. 

“Five minutes,” he repeats. 

You smile at him as you pull away. It was too easy, You had won. 

It felt like victory as you picked up the basket and placed it on your hip. You turn back halfway out the door to see he has gone back to talking to his family. 

You don’t make it to the tent. Five steps away from the door and you had dropped the basket and taken off at a fast pace. 

You walk to try not to draw attention to yourself. It worked for the most part. Hardly anyone gave you a glance. You could see the bins coming into sight. Your freedom is just behind them. 

“Hey!” you hear someone call out. You ignore them at first, not thinking they could mean you. But a harsh hold on your arm spun you towards a Peacekeeper. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

“What? Nothing”. Your freedom lay not ten feet away but was hindered by a zealous guard. 

“Where’s Commander Snow?” He held you too tight. It interfered with your clear thinking. 

“The communications tent.” 

“Is that where you should be?”

“No,” you try and tug your arm away from him but his nails dig in. “Let go of me. Let go!” 

“Let’s go ask Commander Snow what you should be doing.” The man starts to drag you along as you dig your feet into the dirt. 

“Let go!” you shout. He was sure to notice you gone soon if he hadn’t already. Time was running out. 

In frustration, you slap the Peacekeeper across the face. 

“How dare you touch me. I’ll tell Commander Snow about this. You’ve hurt me. 

You feel his grip loosen on you but he doesn’t let go completely. 

“No, I haven’t!” he says somewhat fearfully, 

“Commander Snow has asked me to get something for him, and not only have you stopped me from doing that but you hurt me in the process. How do you think he will react to that?” 

You manage to tear free from him and give yourself some distance. 

“I am going to do as he asked me, and you are going to do your duties like you should be doing. Otherwise, I’ll report you to the Commander." 

The Peacekeeper mulls over his course of action before raising his hands.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Excuse me.” 

You turn your back on him and quicken your steps to your destination. Making sure the coast is clear, you crawl behind the large bins. You couldn’t see any broken fence behind it. 

Did they find it? Have you just made a fatal mistake?

You continue to crawl, placing your hand on the metal for any movement. 

The chain bends showing cut wire as they bend. Relief washing through you. 

It digs harshly into you as you pull yourself through. 

You could have kissed the dirt on the other side. Freedom. Edmund. 

The guard in the tower above you looks out across the field. You keep under his eyesight as you slide across the fence as quietly as you can. 

It runs out, leaving ten feet of open field before the safety of the forest. Ten feet and then you were free. There was no cover, meaning that the guard could easily spot you if he was looking. 

You say a silent prayer that the guard will keep his focus straight before you take the chance of discovery. 

You leap across the field, throwing yourself upon the first tree you touch. The bark smashed your bruised cheek as you waited for the sirens to sound. 

He mustn’t have seen you. You had got away. 

You take a second to laugh as quietly as you can. Run, a voice in your head told you. You regain your breath and do. You run as fast as you can, taking the backroads back to your home. 

Your lungs burn, willing you to stop but you keep going until your house is in view. You only slow down to stop drawing attention to yourself. 

People had started to return home from work. You could see them as you walked along the back of their houses. You're careful not to be seen. 

The back steps of your place come under your feet, and your caution disappears as you fling yourself into your home. 

Edmund was sitting at the kitchen table dressing a rabbit he caught. 

He stood up. Turning his knife towards you thinking you were an intruder. 

You knew he would never hurt you so you throw your arms around his shoulders despite the threat. 

The knife drops and he takes you into his arms. 

“I was so worried.” he breathed. 

“We have to go. We need to leave,” you state but make no attempt to pull away. 

He does pull away, throwing the rabbit into his hunting sack and picking up his knife. You take his bloody hand and he leads you back out the back door and into the forest. 

The walk to the mountains takes well into the night. You both do it silently. What was there to say? There was still a long road to safety. 

You stay as close as you could to him. Always holding his hand or latched onto his arm. 

The mountain trail is tough and you wonder how he made it up with your mother on his back. He knew the way well, having worked in the mines nearly all his life. He warned you of which boulders were loose, and when you tripped over he caught you as if he almost expected it. 

You were worn out by the time you reached the campsite. Rows and rows of small wooden houses for the miners. All were empty this time of year as it got too dark too early and not light enough too late for the hours they worked. 

You saw a freshly put-out fire and knew that your mother was close. 

“Your mothers in that one,” he pointed to the right cabin, “My family’s in the next one.” 

For the first time in the hour's walk, you tore free from him and ran into your mother's cabin. 

It was a relief to see her sleeping figure. You throw yourself on top of her and begin crying.  

She wakes in fright but knows the figure of her daughter well. She throws her arms around you and joins you in crying. 

You were home. You were safe. 

—---------

As soon as the door closed, Coriolanus felt as if he had made a mistake. He trusted you.

You were better now. Doing well. He could trust you. 

But Tigris’s words made no sense to him. You were coming back. 

He tried to focus on his family but he eyes the door expectantly. 

Dread fills him. How long did it take to put on washing? 

“Coriolanus?” he hears Tigris call.

He dashes out of his chair. He had made a very big mistake. 

“Coriolanus?” the receiver resounds. 

Upon opening the door he is met with his washing by his feet. He takes off running to his apartment. You were sick the other day, maybe you had fallen ill again and taken to bed.

He pushed past Peacekeepers as he ran to his steps. Taking them two at a time he reaches the top and pushes open the unlocked door. It was only ever locked to keep someone in, never someone out. He calls out for you but is met with silence. 

He opened every door along the way to the bedroom, hoping you were just hiding. 

He calls your name again and again until falling silent upon the empty bed. You weren’t here. Coriolanus had made a big mistake. 

Clicking the radio built into the collar of his shirt, he demands that the compound is shut down.

“Has anyone been through the gates?” Both leading officers of the two entryways confirm that no one has. The Peacekeepers are diverted into searching the compound for you.

Coriolanus joins too. He didn’t trust the ability of his Peacekeepers. He searched every nook and cranny of every office and building he could find. His temper flared the longer the search went on. 

You had to be in the compound. How could you have got out?

He returns to his apartment. Maybe you had returned upon hearing the sirens. 

A cat catches his attention as it sits meowing and eating bits of food from the ground that the birds had managed to pick out. 

He had never seen a cat in the compound before. Could it have got in the same way you got out? 

He walks over to search it for any clues it might have but it runs off as he comes closer. 

He chases it behind the bin where he watches it slip through the bent wire in the fence. 

You had got away. Now at large in the districts. 

He sighs deeply before taking his rage out on the back of the bins, bashing and kicking at it until he is forced to lean against it to catch his breath. 

A search party would be sent out, interrogations would be issued. Someone had to have seen you along the way. He would find you and he would bring you home to him. 

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@inloveallthetime

[vroomvroomcircuit]

From all four corners of the world comes my love 4 you

(A/N): This has been written with the inspiration @foreveralbon brought me. I love you and your incredibly mind, honey

Summary: Lando's girlfriend is a seamstress working at a tailor shop. She is repairing his clothes, he is cutting holes into his sleeves. Together, they release the cutest merch

Pairing: Lando x fem!reader

Warnings: None, this is so fluffy, I'm crying myself to sleep. I need a Lando like this

Wordcount: 2.9k

🏎Masterlist🏎 __________________________

(Y/N) thinks she is about to go crazy. Manic even.

Over and over again she patches up holes in her boyfriend’s long sleeves.

And over and over again new holes appear. It’s like this is her Sysiphus task. Just repairing Lando’s clothes day in and day out.

Don’t get her wrong. (Y/N) does this for three different reasons.

The first being that she is a seamstress, working in a tailor shop. This craft is how she pays her rent and food.

The second reason is that she really can’t have her boyfriend go out looking like he just got picked up at the side of the road begging for a warm meal and shelter.

The third reason may be less obvious than the previous ones. Acts of services is (Y/N)’s love language. She is not particularly good at letting people around her know of the appreciation she holds for them. Verbally at least. It’s not the way she grew up. She learned that actions speak louder than words can. So patching up her boyfriend’s clothes gives the young woman the opportunity to prove how much she loves him. She just hopes that Lando understands the meaning as it is intended.

Little does (Y/N) know, Lando really appreciates her patching up holes. What he isn’t a big fan of is when she repairs those that are intentional. The ones in his long sleeves are put there on purpose.

While (Y/N) is meticulously sewing, Lando goes snip snip in the other room with a pair of scissors. He just loves having sleeve paws, but it’s annoying when his thumbs are jailed in.

“Lando, have you seen my scis- What are you doing there?!” He turns around, looking at his girlfriend like a child being caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Freeing my thumbs?” He tries to explain in a small voice, scared that she is about to go off on him for ruining his clothes.

(Y/N) sits down next to him on the ground. “If you have told me you want thumb holes, I could have done it for you. I would hem them for you, so they won’t fry. If you want me to, can I take some of your shirts to the shop tomorrow and work on them during slow times?” The way Lando’s eyes light up makes her wish for a camera to keep the memory of it.

(Y/N) not only fixes the holes in his sleeves.

“Love, would you put another patch on my jeans?” Lando saunters into her little crafting room. When she moved into his apartment in Monaco, he insisted on transforming a guest room into her own sewing cave. It was only fair. He got his gaming room as his hobby room, so his girlfriend needs her own territory too.

The room is filled with different sewing machines, one wall is decorated with threads of all kinds, colors and thicknesses. Several shelves are overflowing with different fabrics of any kind imaginable. Every shade, pattern or reflection that any crafter would kill for. Lando really spoils her and happily let’s (Y/N) run loose in a craft store, draining his credit card to her heart's fullest content.

(Y/N) would feel bad, if it wasn’t for the big difference in salaries they sport. Also, it is Lando’s way of treating his girl. Instead of flowers or a bag he buys her a new Bernina B 325, which is not something she is exactly complaining about. They share most of their expenses, but still, working at a tailor shop will never make you a millionaire.

Currently working on her own project of making a quilt out of scrap fabric for Max’s upcoming birthday, (Y/N) barely looks up to her boyfriend. “Yes, of course, sunshine. Just put it over there and I’ll have a look at it in a bit. Do you have any preference for the new patch? I ordered city themed ones a few days back and they arrived today.”

Without having to be pointed into the direction, the Brit already goes through the drawer that is solely dedicated to the patches (Y/N) accumulated during the last few years.

If he is being honest, that kind of work of hers is his favorite. Lando is just amazed by the different shapes, colors and themes her collection entails and how her delicate efforts bring a new individual mark to his favorite pair of jeans.

“I think I want to go with this one,” he mumbles after sifting through the drawer. Lando places a small rose next to the currently used sewing machine for her to not have to search for it in the midst of the chaos that is going on on the several desks in this hobby room.

He actually loves spending some down time here, especially when his girlfriend is working on her own projects. Lando hides under one of the desks, sometimes scrabbling away on pieces of paper for the next helmet sketch, sometimes answering some important emails on his laptop and other times he lies down between different piles of fabric and takes a nap. Having (Y/N) hack away with the machine, occasionally cursing under her breath when she pinches herself sewing something by hand or the music playing on a low volume brings Lando great comfort.

Spending quality time this way is secretly Lando’s happy place that he visits mentally during stressful patches when he is away.

A couple days later the door to the tailor shop (Y/N) works at rings the bell, alerting her of a new customer. “I’ll be with you in a second!” She calls from an adjoining room, cleaning up her work space from the trims that have been left by the jeans she just shortened.

“How can I hel- LANDO!” The young woman exclaims, rounding the register to jump into his arms. “I thought you’ll return from Australia tomorrow”, she murmurs into his shirt. The thumbs are, of course, able to escape through the holes she recently cut and hemmed like promised.

He laughs into her hair. “I wanted to surprise you and pick you up from work like the good boyfriend I am. I also got you something from ‘Straya.” Out of thin air (his back pocket actually) Lando procures a small stack of Australia themed patches.

“Oh, honey, they are perfect. Thank you so so much!” She kisses him all over the face until finally putting her lips onto his. “Just let me close the shop and we can go home and enjoy our evening.” Lando presses another kiss onto her lips, “Hurry up, I can’t wait holding you in my arms again.”

While (Y/N) packs her things up, Lando goes through a stack of different fabrics. One in particular catches his eye.

“Hey love, where did you get this heart patterned fabric? What do you have planned with that?” (Y/N) pops her head in to see what her boyfriend is pointing to. “Oh, that one. The owner was negotiating a deal with a new supplier and wanted to check out the quality. We wanted to see if this one is durable enough to make shirts out of it.”

An idea is forming in Lando’s app, that he quickly puts down in the notes app on his phone.

She emerges from the side room with her back and something else. “Would you try this on for me?” (Y/N) asks innocently, handing Lando a jean jacket. It is a bit oversized on him, just the way he likes.

“It’s pretty nice. What do you need me to model this fo- This is one of the patches I just gave you!” Lando admires the kangaroo that looks like it’s taking a jump on the sleeve. “I thought this would be a fun little project for the season. After every race I’ll put a patch from that country on the jacket. I can also stitch some additions onto it as well for when you get a podium or win or are voted as driver of the day and so on. Just, I thought this could be something cute.” (Y/N)’s face heats up the more she talks about her idea.

Lando pulls her into his arms, squishing his girlfriend as close as possible to his body. “Thank you, you don’t know how much I appreciate the work and thought you put and are putting into this.”

Like the proud trophy boyfriend he is, Lando loves modeling whatever his girlfriend sewed, patched up or created and pimped up in some other way while entering the paddock. Just as he predicted mentally, the fans are going crazy about his jacket online as he wears it on Wednesday for media day.

“I see, (Y/N) loved the patches you bought her. At least dragging me through every craft store in Melbourne that I know of has paid off for you”, Oscar remarks dryly as he watches Lando hanging up the jacket in the hospitality.

“Yeah mate, she sewed it on immediately. It’s her newest project, putting on a patch for every country we race in during this season after the race. She also wants to add a bunch of things for special occasions during the races.” Lando explains fondly the thought process behind the jacket.

As he is leaving the paddock later that day and signing several cards, caps and other merch, some fans ask him where he got the jacket from. “Oh, that old thing? I’ll gatekeep this one. Good luck on finding the store.” He answers a young woman while putting a bracelet she handed him on his wrist.

He hasn’t gone public with his girlfriend yet. The people know that he is in a relationship with Lando having started an already several months long soft launch, that includes their socked feet during movie nights and her backside in beautiful sunset scenes. So nobody knows what she does for work and the two of them want to keep the little bubble of secrecy they have so far going for a bit longer. Out of the public eyes without the pressure of fans and media.

It felt like a scavenger hunt going online and seeing fans and other media outlets trying to find Lando’s particular jean jacket. For the two of them it becomes their evening entertainment, reading up how everyone and their mother are losing their minds from not being able to detect where it is from.

“The chat is asking about that dumb cloth again. Just tell them where you got it.” Max groans, even his own chat during the stream isn’t safe from the assault. Lando, who chills on his bed while waiting for a message from his girlfriend about her being done with work, just smiles. “Come one, please lift the secret. I can’t even roll my eyes often enough times, that is how annoyed I am by this whole thing.”

The Brit loves the suspension around the subject, but gets up and saunters over to the monitors. “Ok Chat, I will only say it once and never again. Get your pens and papers out and write it down. So, this jean jacket with the patches is a designer piece. You can’t get it anywhere else, it was custom made and no, the designer doesn’t want to go into mass production with that one. But I am cooking something up. Just be patient, I feel like I will be able to make a deal for you. I just need to work my magic, but that takes time. My name is not Tinkerbell.” 

His little sass tirade is broken up by the ping of his phone, making Lando scramble for it to see his love’s text. “Chat, do you see how down bad that man is for his girlfriend?” Max ridicules Lando, giving him payback for all the teasing against himself.

While the chat is going insane, with the certainty that this moment has been clipped and will be used for edits by the fans, Lando just smiles at his phone, shooting a quick reply of picking her up. After that he packs his stuff and throws a quick goodbye to Max and the stream, onto the way to the tailor shop.

There she stands, his love in all her glory in front of the closed store. “Didn’t I tell you to wait in the building for me? It’s dangerous to be out alone, especially for such a beautiful person like you!” Lando scolds her lightly when he reaches her, taking her bag from her shoulder, throwing it onto his own back.

But (Y/N) presses a kiss to his lips, trying to soothe him. “It’s all ok. When I saw the headlights of your car, I stepped out and closed the shop behind me. I knew that my Tinkerbell was close by in case I needed saving.”

Lando wants to reciprocate the kiss, but stops mid air when he processes her words. “You watched the stream?” That shocks him a bit, because (Y/N) usually keeps out of this part of his life. It’s not really her world, streaming and gaming. So that’s one of the hobbies they don’t share, being the healthy couple, without a horrible codependency, they are.

“No, a friend sent me that clip a few minutes earlier”, she snickers, “Were you talking about me? About wanting to work a deal out?” Lando throws his arm around her shoulders, leading the young woman into the direction of where he parked his car. “I did. Originally I planned on woohing you by a nice candle light dinner and after that I wanted to ask you if you were open with making a few designs for LN4. The fans are going crazy over the pants and jacket. You also have the eye for the details that I love on clothes. It would make me so happy to hold something in my hands that we both worked on, to know that people in the whole world will wear it.”

(Y/N) looks up at her boyfriend, watching his side profile while he is rambling about the meaning of a collab between the two of them. How he can’t stop smiling over the excitement of the prospect of their merch line together, the way his eyes light up, his free hand gesturing while explaining a few ideas he has saved on his phone. She can’t help but press another kiss onto his cheek, effectively quieting him down.

“I will make that collab with you happen. I already have a few things drawn out in a notebook, I was just too scared to show you the sketches, not wanting to intrude or impose myself onto your business.”

Instead of saying anything, he just picks her up and throws them in a circle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He repeats over and over, both laughing about his childish antics.

A couple of months, several trial and errors as well as creative differences later, they stand in a studio, overseeing the photoshooting with the new collection.

“Wouldn’t this be the perfect way to launch our relationship to the public? With your face visible in the pictures?” Lando muses out loud while looking over a rack with hoodies. (Y/N) throws him a shocked look. “I mean, we can take a couple of pictures together with a few articles and also take a few of you individually too. The world needs to know the mastermind of these designs. You need to take credit for all the hard work you have done.” He explains, taking her hand and gesturing to the set up with the other.

She lets the idea rummage a bit in her head. It would be the perfect way to go public, especially since this is the first time her designs are commercially sold. (Y/N) breaks out into a smile, nodding rapidly. Lando can’t help but also smile, getting infected by his girlfriend’s happiness.

Weeks after that the new merch drop gets released to social media. The press and fans are eating up the couple's pictures, finally having a face to the woman, who is able to fluster Lando through text messages alone.

The clothes itself also get the best feedback.

A variety of the jean jacket and patched pants are now available for fans to buy, being able to kind of replicate Lando’s paddock look, coupled with a heart patterned hoodie from the collection.

But nothing gets close to the original with the many hand sewn details on Lando’s jacket, even when fans try to imitate them. A nice side effect is seeing other people picking up the craft of hand sewing and stitching.

Many people swoon over the long sleeves with cut out thumb holes. They especially love the heart shape of the holes.

It’s a perfect detail to the name of the new line.

‘From all four corners of the world comes my love 4 you’ is printed in one way or another on every piece.

Because no matter the distance between Lando and (Y/N), they can feel the love for each other over any distance.

[hismourningflower]

「 sugar cookies | fanfiction 」 wriothesley x gn!reader | fluff, modern!au | valentines fanfiction. ↳ additional tags. established relationship, potentially ooc wrio, a tiny bit suggestive? baking, not proofread as of right now !! ↳ happy valentines, loves !! ♡

data has been uploaded! @soleillunne, @dumbificat, @lovingluxury, @starryshinyskies, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @ainescribe

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with the temperatures now starting to pick up in fontaine, WRIOTHESLEY is fully aware of what holiday is to come. how could he not be? the pink and red merchandise plastered in every shop window, cute cartoon hearts decorating usually ordinary packaging and of course the sweet - but suffocating - scent of roses the moment he enters a supermarket.

winter beginning to fade out only meant one thing... valentines day. as someone who works fairly remotely and only converses with prisoners on the daily of the city's local prison, wriothesley never had a reason to celebrate valentines day. in fact, he would sometimes be caught sneering at the obnoxious colour scheme every time february wrapped around. he'd even go as far as turning his head away, wishing for anything but the twenty-four hours to pass over.

that was until just under a year ago. under the peer pressure of a few friends - namely clorinde and navia, out of the goodness of their hearts, - he'd decided that maybe blind dating wasn't so bad. his tiring routine he'd burned into his mind was beginning to make his body and mind both ache equally as much and all he was starting to think about was a change in his life.

wriothesley was perfectly locked into his habit of waking up early, working at the prison, commuting home and going straight back to sleep but... where's the fun in that? and as navia had quite teasingly stated, he was starting to waste his life away as a workaholic.

that's where he met you, after all. someone who turned a blind eye to the awful schedule of his work rota and that growing collection of different teas he stashed in his kitchen cupboards. in turn, the growing collection was now tucked neatly in your shared kitchen cupboards instead.

now he had a reason to stare at the brightly coloured gifts and cheesy slogans, taking every single factor about you into consideration when it came to the smallest things about valentines; including the card, yes. it took wriothesley an hour and navia's quiet begging for him to choose a card for you, his first valentine. at least, the first one he'd ever cared to delve this far into valentines gifts for.

"you're hopeless," navia whines under her breath as the two exit the store, opening the iced coffee she'd purchased from the chilled section (and i quote, how else was she going to put up with him?), "i didn't think i'd ever see you take valentines this seriously."

her comment perks his attention from his phone, where'd he been texting none other than you whilst you was on your break at work. he makes a noise before chuckling, deep and hearty as he adjusts his tie awkwardly. there's a heat creeping his neck as he clears his throat, eyes darting anywhere but the fashionable blonde as she sips her aforementioned iced coffee with a smug smirk.

"yeah, well - i don't care," he retorts boldly and navia almost spits her coffee out, giggling behind her hand as she covers her lipgloss coated lips for some form of dignity, "sometimes i wonder why i'm still friends with you?"

"rude. anyways, i'm the reason your social circle is so big now. i'm glad i don't have to watch you work yourself to death anymore." navia sighs, shaking her head as the conversation takes a vulnerable turn for the both of them. wriothesley can't deny that despite how much they bicker from siblings, she's always cared for him with good intentions. there's a moment of him debating how clorinde bagged such a kind-hearted girl before he almost makes himself chuckle at the thought.

large calloused hands rummage in the reusable bag you'd shoved into his chest before you hurried out of the door for work this morning, mindlessly checking over all the gifts and ingredients he'd acquired with a slight break in his bank account. your boss had called you in for the morning, already throwing a spanner in the works of your valentines day preparations however they promised you'd be free before lunch - which meant the baking you'd been so excited for could still go ahead, according to plan.

later that day, in the midst of wriothesley fumbling around in the kitchen cupboards as if he was lost in his house, you arrived home. that shift had been less than ideal, adding onto your frustration of being called into work in the first place. yet the grin that etches onto your partner's stubbled face draws you from that frustration; it calms you, eases you into the comfort of his burly arms when you rest your head against his chest and forget your worries.

"work was that bad?" wriothesley's voice murmurs in your ear and you can barely stifle a nod, nuzzling against the warmth radiating through his clothes as he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head.

"that bad," you mumble in response, sighing as you force yourself to pull away from your boyfriend's hypnotising hold before you fall asleep standing up, "time to bake out my anger - what recipe did you end choosing?"

"sugar cookies," wriothesley seems quite proud of his choice, a calloused hand gesturing towards the numerous multicoloured sprinkles he'd prepared on the kitchen counter - knowing him, that could be very well the only ingredients he brought, "you know, with that heart cookie cutter you begged for the other week?"

a playful scoff leaves your lips, a gentle hit of your hand against his shoulder as you brush past him, rolling your sleeves up to your elbows so that you can start the tedious process you'd signed yourself up for on this fateful valentines day. the soft hum of wriothesley reverberates around the kitchen of your shared home, sunlight filtering in through the kitchen window and basking in the potted plants you'd decorated the windowsill with.

your friends had been dubious about you moving in so soon with wriothesley but you knew only a few months in that you would trust this man with your life. despite his gruff, solemn demeanour, wriothesley was in your eyes perhaps more akin to a deflated puppy from all his years working in the prison, lacking social experience outside of the prisoners and co-workers he'd dip into conversation with daily.

strong arms wrap around your waist whilst you're busy measuring out ingredients, your eyes narrowed in focus as your gaze darts between the electronic weighing scales and the flour in your unsteady hands as wriothesley takes to wrapping himself like a koala around your body; he's inseparable from you, unable to stay away for mere moments as if you'll disappear if he doesn't have his rough hands somewhere on your soft body.

"i'm trying to focus..." you huff under your breath, biting your tongue as wriothesley rests his chin on your shoulder, watching your precision intently as the warmth of his breath tickles against your neck. it makes your hairs stand on end but not as much as the gentle kiss he presses to your exposed shoulder. you almost elbow him in the ribs for the minor distraction.

"i can see that," he chides with a grin, brushing his stubble against your skin and you really can't say no when a trail of kisses litters your skin from your shoulder to your collarbone and neck, "happy valentines day, darling."

"happy valentines day," you sigh softly, giving up on your endeavour to measure ingredients successfully under these circumstances. you place the opened bag of flour down, leaning back onto his chest in defeat, "i hope you choke on these sugar cookies later."

wriothesley chuckles, his thumbs rubbing rhythmic patterns on your hips where his hands are positioned, holding onto you tightly to stop some manic villain possibly ever stealing you; hey, it's possible! the man lets out a content exhale, appreciative of the warm comfort you give him outside of the gruelling job he'd thrown himself into for a living, "i love you, i really do."

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

© thexianzhoujade 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[sarawritestories]

Remember Me

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: Reader's Grandmother's memory is deteriorating. When Gram has an aggressive episode, Reader falls apart at the realization she is losing her best friend. She misses family dinner and Cassian feels the devastation through the bond checks on her.

Content Warning: Memory loss of a loved one, Death of a loved one, crying.

A/N: I've been thinking about my favorite Angel lately and apparently I needed to get some feelings out. Some of these are based off real memories though its mostly fiction but the love for my gram is real! I cried a lot while writing this, so please be kind.

ACOTAR Masterlist

“What are you doing here?” My Gram sneered. I stood frozen mouth agape, Madja warned me things had begun deteriorating quickly. I just hadn’t realized that it was impacting her personality. Her voice brook me from my thoughts, “Well, what do you want? Why are you here?” I took a sharp breath for the first time in my entire life my gentle loving grandmother held ire in her eyes, and they were glaring down at me. It wasn’t always that way.

“I win!” A younger me howled as I cleared my hand of card. My grandmother smiled and snapped her fingers in mock disappointment.

She opened up her arms and I ran right into them, her scent of cookies we made earlier and clean soap filled my nose. Home. She was my home, “Good job, my lil’ Princess.” She kissed my cheek with her pink lipstick smudging my cheek.

I grinned widely, “Can we play again?”

Gram let me go and started reaching for the Cards, “Let’s play.”

My chest felt tight, and I doubled checked to make sure that the bond was shielded on my end, not wanting to worry your mate. Her face held nothing but rage and fear of a stranger in her room. It was like a whole different person. Shaking the surprise of her behavior I took a breath, and reached out to her, “Gram.”

She swatted my hand her she yelled, “Don’t touch me, where’s my granddaughter? What have you done with her?!” I froze and blinked and blinked once more. “Healer! Healer!” She looked back at me and the broken sound of her scream, “Get out! GET. OUT.”

I bolted out the door and ran into Madja who was rushing in as I was speeding out. She gripped my arms, “Are you alright?” the healer’s brows knitted together in concern. Not trusting myself to speak I shook my head. “Her condition is worsening. There is nothing I can do. She’s fading fast I fear she may only have a few more weeks with us.”

I stepped out of her grip as the news sunk in. I dodged her attempt at an embrace and sprinted home. My legs wanted to give out, but I pushed forward and was trying to keep myself together. I ran through the door, and once I was in the confines of my home, I slid down the front door and fell apart. Tucking my legs to my chest I buried my face into my knees as sobs racked through me. Memories of my childhood, flooding to surface.

Laughter filled the room as Gram, and I were baking cookies and dancing in her kitchen. As she spun me around, we heard the door slam open. Male voices filled the room and Gram gave me a knowing smile, as excitement bubbled over as Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand barged through the kitchen. I had met Rhys in school, and he introduced me to his brothers when they would come to visit Velaris the four of us becoming fast friends and Gram had instantly welcomed them in her home and required them to visit before they went back to the Illyrian camps whether I was here or not.

The moment I saw Cassian’s shaggy hair I leapt into his arms. Quick to hold me, he gripped onto me in a bone crushing hug his wings tucked in, He turned to face Rhys and Azriel. “See, Princess, here knows how to say hello.” He kissed my check and gave me a full grin, “Hello, Princess.” I rolled my eyes as he put me down. He heard Gram call me that once and had not stopped calling me that. There was a point where it stopped bothering me and I began to enjoy it.

“Stop flirting with my grandchild and give your gram a hug,” Cassian put me down and gave her a hug, kissing the top of her head as I hugged Rhys and Az. Gram laughed, “I swear every time you three come home you get bigger.”

Rhys and Az both walked over and hugged her as one of Az’s shadows sneaked him some cookie dough. Gram playfully swats at him, “The fresh ones are on the cooling rack.”

The boys all lunged for the cookies. When I elbowed them for one of my own, I frowned as they cleared the way and found they took them all.  I sighed crossing my arms as two muscular hands caged me close to his chest delicious cookies in my line of sight. “Help me out, Princess.”

I smiled and grabbed both treats from his hands. He casually snaked his arms around my waist pulling me closer, whispering in my ear, “One day, when we are exchanging Gram’s cookies to accept the mating bond.”

I leaned my head on his chest taking a bite of the baked good, “Bold of you to assume we will be mated one day.”

He kissed the pointed part of my ear, “I’m not assuming smart ass. I’m just hopeful.”

There was a lot of laughter that caused my gaze to drift to the table where Gram was smirking behind the cards she was holding in her hand as Azriel’s shadows passed out the cards. I placed my hand over his, “Me too.”

~Later that day~

The house was almost quiet, the not so soft sounds of the three Illyrian’s snoring. I walked into the dining room where Gram patted the seat next to her. Taking the open seat her hand found mind giving it a comfort squeeze. “Time for girl talk.” I perked up as this was My favorite time of the day where it was just the two of us talking about all topics. She leaned over and watched the three soon to be warriors snoozing in her living room. “They are good males, Y/N. Promise me that you four will take care of each other when the time comes for me to see your grandfather again.”

My brow furrowed, “Of course. Though that won’t be until centuries, right?” Gram patted my hand.

“Yes, Princess, though I do miss your grandfather very much. I long to be in his arms again. Hopefully one day the mating bond will snap between you and a certain Illyrian when you are old and gray you will understand where I’m coming from.

I took a glance over at the sleeping long haired mail. His face so peaceful in his sleep. The stress of the world is no longer at the forefront of his brain. “Gram, do you think we could be mates?”

Gram grinned, “I do, it will snap in the right time.”

“I hope you’re there for the mating ceremony if it does.” I say leaning my head on her shoulder.

She laid her head on top of mine, her curls grazing my forehead. “Me too, Princess. Me too.”

I had no memories of moving from leaning on the door to lying down on the floor. I felt like I was drowning in my tears and was swept in the undertow. I heard a soft-landing upstairs and the boom of a male voice, “Princess!” He ran down the stairs, “Princess, where are- “He abruptly stop and then his hazel eyes meet mine, “Baby. What’s wrong, are you hurt?” He scanned me for injuries, and he cupped my face wiping my tears.

“Cass.” I hiccupped and he picked me up off the floor and carried me to the couch in our living room. “Why are you here?”

He snorted, “Leave it to my mate to ask me why I am in my own home.” He sat down and held me on his lap, my head laid on his shoulder and I could feel concern down the bond. “You put your shield down on the bond and I felt your overwhelming sadness. Then Madja told Rhys you visited Gram.” A fresh wave of tears started, and Cassian ran his fingers through my hair. “She wouldn’t tell him details but I could put it together.

“She’s dying Madja, said she only has months. Today she didn’t recognize me, “I whispered as Cass pulled me closer to him and pressed his lips to my forehead. “She asked what I did with her granddaughter. I’ve never seen such anger in her eyes.” I began to sob again and buried my face in Cassian’s neck.

Cassian rubbed my back and made sure to cocoon me in his wings, whispering soothing words in my ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What can I do? Should I get Rhys and Az?” I shook my head.

“Just hold me. Please.” I clung closer to him gripping his leather tight and his free hand wrapped around mine.

“Of course, Princess.” Cassian kept rubbing against my skin and humming a little tune that lulled me to a dreamless slumber.

Cassian and I finally reached Gram’s table after the mating ceremony, she gave me a smile and kissed my cheek and Cassian kissed the top of her head. “You look lovely dear.” Gram patted my head confusion sparked in the elder fae female’s eyes. “What’s the occasion?”

I tilted my head, “Gram, we talked about this yesterday. My mating ceremony today.” I exchanged a worried glance to Cassian to find his face mirrored mine, his hand gripping mine a little more tight than normal.

Gram’s face lit up, “Oh how wonderful, I knew you would find your mate, who is the lucky fella.” She asked and her question was genuine and true.

Cassian bent down and gripped Gram’s hand, “It’s me Gram, Cassian. You’re favorite Illyrian.” He smiled.

She patted his cheek, “Well you’re so handsome, are you going to take care of my pretty princess,” clearly the memory of him asking for her blessing gone.

Cassian kissed her hand, “Yes and I will make sure she is well cared for ma’am.” It took everything in me not to burst into tears. I felt Az and Rhys behind me, and Cass must have too, “Rhys and Az will too. We made you promise to be there for each other. We’re going to keep it.”

Gram nodded her head in approval and saw the two handsome males behind me. “Oh hello, aren’t you two handsome fellas too.”

Rhys and Azriel gave a sad smile and instead of dancing the four of us sat around my favorite person and just talked about our lives and our adventures and she started talking about me but like she was a stranger. “My granddaughter, she’ll find a mate one day and I hope her mate loves her like you love yours, Sir.” She spoke to Cassian, and I could see his own heart breaking.

He squeezed my hand under the table, “I’m sure she will and the male or female that does will make her feel like the most important person in the world.” We spent the first night of our mating ceremony holding each other and crying over the interaction.

~A month Later~

We were having brunch with our friends, as I tried not to think of the looming cloud of losing my Gram. Rhys came into the dining room of the river house with a somber look on his face. His gaze met mine, and suddenly the food in my mouth turned to ash. “Madja just reached me. She says its urgent.” Dread pooled in my stomach. “It’s about Gram.”

Cassian’s wing curved around me, I swallowed my food and tried to level my breathing, I felt the cool kiss of Azriel’s shadow around my ankle. “It’s time, isn’t it?” Rhys’ eyes lined silver, and he nodded.

The four of us and Feyre were around her, her breathing was labored, but her eyes for the first time were cleared. Madja had informed me she is lucid and that she most likely had enough fight to say goodbye. She said it was a rare to see in memory loss severe as hers but it can happen. “My, you four have grown up.” Her eyes reach Feyre. “Rhys who is that lovely lady?”

Rhys let a tear fall down his cheek, and held out his hand for Feyre to take, “This is my mate, Gram. This is Feyre.”

Gram weakly raised her hand and Feyre took it. “You keep this boy in line okay, he always tries to get into trouble.”

She smiled and squeezed Rhys’ hand, “I will, Ma’am.”

She pointed to Rhys, “And you, take care of this beautiful female, don’t let her go.” He held her hand for his and he knelt to take it. “You have been an outstanding High Lord. Your momma, would be proud.”  Cassian pulled me close as Rhys nodded and kissed her head, whispering in her ear.

Azriel stepped forward next and Gram’s smile brightened, “My shadowsinger.” He gripped his hands, “You are so strong and so brave, but it’s your kindness and your loyalty that sets you apart. And if a partner of yours can’t see that or appreciate you, they are not worth your time.” She cupped his face and he leaned into it kissing her palm, “Also tell those shadows of yours to stay away from my lil’ Princesses, cookie dough.” Azriel laughed through the tears and promised also kissing her forehead.”

Gram’s eyes met mine, then Cassian’s as if she could see the gold bond that tethers our hearts together, “I always knew you two would be together.” She smiled and opened her arms and Cassian released his grip and I ran into her arms. Sobbing into her night gown. “Oh lil’ princess, don’t cry over this old bag of bones. Your grandfather, came to me yesterday, and told me to come home soon.” I sobbed hard and she soothed my hair. “Shhh, Cassian come here.” My general steps forward and she grips his hand. “I am so proud of you. My sweet Cassian. You have grown into a fine male. Take care of her you hear me?”

“Don’t worry Gram, our Princess is well cared for. I’ll make sure it stays like that.”

“Good.” She pulls me away from her shoulder and walks her shoulder, “Remember what I said all those years ago. Take care of your boys. You’re all each other has now.” She coughs and I gripped her hand in mine. “If there is one thing, I’m most proud of in this life. It’s being your grandmother.”

I whimpered and sniffled, “Being your granddaughter is mine.”

“I love you more than the stars in the sky, my lil’ Princess.”

‘I love you too.” I whispered as I held her hand in my mind and watched as she leaned back her breathing labored, as if her conversation with us cost her so much. Cassian gripped my shoulder as we watched as her breathing slowed and it stopped all together. Her hand loosened in mine, and I couldn’t hear her heartbeat anymore, and the scream that erupted from my chest was broken.

Cassian grabbed me and pulled me to his chest, rocking me as his own tears soaked my hair. The room was filled with sniffles and hiccups for what felt like hours and Cassian had held me tightly.

It was Rhys’ voice soft and somber that pulled me away from Cassian’s chest to look at my High Lord, my brother, “Cauldron save you. Mother hold you.”

He walks toward the bed grabbing the blanket, and Az voice joins him, “Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey.”

Cassian was the one who joined next as Rhys raised the blanket tenderly over her face, “Fear no evil. Feel no pain.”

I wiped my tears as there was a pause and the three of them looked at me and I felt a light hand intertwined with mine. Feyre looked at me eyes lined with silver understanding in her gaze as she led me to my grandmother and through my tears I finished the prayer, “Go and enter Eternity.”

[celestialprincesse]

hi😊

I’m just wondering if you’d write something…? It’s okay if you don’t want to!

I was wondering about ghost or könig….maybe soap with a crybaby!partner? Like, I’m a very emotional person, I cry easily and I have really bad anxiety and self image issues. So I was just kind of wondering if like, they did something, maybe like touched them or something and then the reader bursts into tears because it feels good or they’re self conscious…?

I’m so sorry if I make u uncomfortable, it was no intention of mine :(

This is so me pookie💕 I loovelovelovelove confused buff military men X total emotional wreck partners 🤭🫶 not self indulgent at all

You've gotten really good at working out when you're going to have a bad day. That heavy feeling weighs heavy on your shoulders from the moment you sit up in bed. The sickly lump in your throat chokes you up - makes you swallow down the glass of water left on the nightstand last night to wash it down. It's become so predictable, so routine.

Even your comfiest clothes feel too tight today. The waistband of your jeans constricts you, and the sleeves of your sweater are just short enough that you can't pull them comfortably over your hands. The lights in the grocery store are too bright and the crackly loudspeakers play some catchy new song you hate. All of your comfort foods are out of stock. You even work up the nerve to ask an employee if they've moved around the baking section (which they very clearly have, seeing as your safe haven of cookie cutters and chocolate chips is no longer on aisle four) only to be met with a dirty look and a shrug.

By the time Simon gets home, you're practically at breaking point. None of your go-to self soothing methods had worked, and the day only seemed more intent on breaking you with every attempt you'd made to ease yourself down from the emotional cliff edge you'd been teetering on. You'd hoped that you would've sorted yourself out by the time his car rolled into the driveway - prancing into the hall with a smile and a kiss to greet him - not slumped on the couch watching some rerun episode of Real Housewives. Your lack of enthusiasm only serves to make you feel even worse.

He's so quick to drop his work bag, striding into the lounge to capture your cheeks in his palms and press a long, loving kiss on your lips. The moment he feels wetness on his cheeks, he stills. "Hey." Simon coos, keeping your face in his grasp as silent tears dribble down your cheeks. "Hey hey hey. Wha's wrong?" The soft concern in his tone only makes you sniffle quietly, trying to avoid his eye. "M' sorry." You murmur, feeling less like something to be worried about, more like a burden. "Why're you sorry? No reason to apologise t'me."

Simon settles on the couch beside you as he gives you a minute to find your words. "Just.." It's impossible not to lean into his palm when he wipes the salty tears from your ruddy cheeks. "Dunno, just overwhelmed today I guess." You shrug defeatedly as Simon scoops you up, pulling you into his side. "Tha's alright." He reassures, stroking his fingers through your hair. "Nothing wrong with having a bit of a day, yeah? We all do." "You don't." You grumble, huffing at how good he is at bringing you down. "Yeah I do. Only difference is that you actually let people see it." "Don't wanna be a burden." The sound of your voice is muffled by the soft, worn cotton of his hoodie. "You're not a burden. You're fucking lovely. Jus' have big feelings sometimes is all."

The comforting rumble of his words has you melting into him, zoning out into the comfort of his presence. "You want a takeaway?" You hum absently in response, finally allowing your shoulders to drop and your mind to wander as he pulls out the menu from your favourite Thai restaurant.

[loislane41319]

The calm after the storm.

Pairing: Dad!Spencer Reid x reader

Wordcount: 718

Summary: Spencer comes home after being kidnapped.

Warnings: None. I imagined this happening after the events of the Criminal Minds episodes Believer (13x22) and 300 (14x01), but it's not necessary to understand the story.

Note: This is not my best work, but I still put in effort and I'm proud of it anyway. Any feedback is welcome, just be kind about it.

Also, even if all you do is read this without leaving a like or comment or anything else; thank you. I might never know you read this, but it still means a lot.

Story:

The whole apartment smelled like fresh baked sweets. The entire kitchen was covered in bowls, kitchen utensils and flour that you were itching to clean. But, hearing your daughter laugh and seeing how exited she was pressing all the different shaped cookie cutters into the rolled out dough, made that itch disappear like snow in the sunlight. The sound of keys hitting the bottom of a bowl made you turn around. It couldn’t be…

The only person it could be was your husband, but it couldn’t be him. He was an FBI agent with the Behavioural Analysis Unit. His job was dangerous and yesterday you had gotten one of the two calls you had been dreading since the start of your relationship. Your husband had been kidnapped. Your hearts weight had tripled the moment you heard. Your husbands boss had promised their team would find him, but in what state? The only guarantee in this situation was that there were no guarantees. All you could think about were your daughters. Your little girls had just turned four and you had no idea how to raise them without their father. You couldn’t tell them what happened, so, in an attempt to distract them this morning, you were baking cookies with one of them, the other still sleeping. Until you heard that one sound you didn’t expect.

“Daddy!” Your daughters voice pulled you out of your thoughts as she jumped off her step stool and ran toward the door. Your eyes followed the little girl until she flew into the arms of the person who had just entered your apartment. The man you had been married to for over seven years. Your husband and the father of your children. He was okay. He was safe. He was home.

You walked towards your husband as he hugged his daughter. “Hi pumpkin! I missed you!” He told the four year old in his arms. “I missed you too, daddy! Mommy and I made cookies, do you wanna see?” Abby asked enthusiastically. “Absolutely, but where’s Amy?” Her dad asked her about her twin sister as you watched in awe a few feet away. “Amy is still sleeping.” Abby told him. “Ah, in that case, I’m just gonna say hi to mommy and then you can show me all the cookies you made, okay?” Your husband asked your little girl. She nodded and so her dad put her down on the ground, opening his arms for you. He didn’t have to wait even a single second. Without having to think about it, you stepped closer, wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close as you possibly could. Feeling your husbands body against your own, caused you to release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I was really scared.” You breathed into his ear. “I was too, but I’m here now. I’m home.” Spencer whispered as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you.” You whispered back, mirroring his actions. “I love you.” He whispered back, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He loosened his hold on you just enough to press his lips on yours. You wished you could stay in that moment forever, but you had to breathe. As you pulled away, you heard a door open behind you. “Daddy!” You heard and moved aside just fast enough for your husband to catch the little girl running straight at him. She wrapped her little arms tightly around her father and hid her little face in his neck. “Hey peanut, you okay?” Spencer asked her. “I missed you, daddy.” The little girl answered. “Aw, I missed you too, sweetheart. Hey, mommy and Abby made cookies. Do you want to go see them?” Her dad then asked her. That caught Amy’s attention. She loosed her hold on her dad and turned towards you. “You made cookies without me?” Your little girl then asked you. Her big brown eyes and quivering lip almost broke your heart. “We did, but we still need to decorate them and we couldn’t possible decorate all those cookies by ourselves.” You told her, exaggerating a little, hoping it would prevent a tantrum. “Can daddy help?” Amy then asked. “Absolutely.” You smiled, happily knowing your family was together, healthy and safe. 

[yelenasdiary]

Uh,,(is this the correcct way?) i dont know how to make requests, but since urs are opened,

Can u make wandanat or katelena with gn!reader who's been in hydra/redroom for most off her life, and they just go on a date together on valentines and explain to her what valentines is?

thank you!

-confused anon

Love Letters

Pairing:  Bishlova x GN! Reader

Summary:  Kate and Yelena give you your first real Valentines

Fluff, Pinch of Angst

Translations: Detka (baby),

Warnings: Mentions of Hydra, Reader’s PTSD, Torture & Murder | 1.9K

AC: Thank you for sending me this, I went with Bishlova for something different! I hope you enjoy this xx 

Cupid's Dream Masterlist

“Kate Bishop, what are you up too?” Yelena asked with a curious frown as Kate was quick to hide whatever she was doing behind her back. Kate shook her head endlessly, “n-nothing. I was just making some lunch” explained, causing Yelena to cock a brow. “You don’t cook” Yelena replied.

Kate gave up instantly and moved slightly to the right, “I brought some cookies and was just decorating them” she paused, “because you know, it’s Valentines and I thought we could do something special for Y/n” she added as Yelena wandered over to the countertop. Yelena looked up at Kate, “I know you said they might not be up for it, which is why I didn’t do my usual thing, but I want to show them how much they mean to me” Kate rambled on. Yelena placed her hands on the brunette’s hips and pulled her closer. 

“Kate Bishop, you’re too kind for your own good. I knew you weren’t going to listen to me so I spoke with them and they’re just having a shower then you can give them your cookies” Yelena explained before kissing Kate softly. The archer’s cheeks turned red; she was never one to hide her blushes. “Thank you” Kate spoke softly. 

As bathroom filled up with steam and the warm water ran down your body, your mind couldn’t escape the thoughts of how different your life has been since The Young Avengers rescued you from an underground Hydra base. It’s been a little over four years, but you still deal with a lot of mental health issues from your imprisonment at Hydra. You’ve had a lot of support from Kate’s team, Yelena, and the now semi-retired Avengers. You’ve overcome a lot of bumps in the road but now you have this very different and much more normal lifestyle it takes you a little extra time to adjust. 

Holidays are the hardest, especially when people like to bring up their memories from the previous years while your previous year memories involve torture, pain, and murder. Even though you’ve had some time to enjoy these holidays to make new, fun memories but it was never easy. Today being Valentine’s Day, you felt a little pressure to join in whatever plans your girlfriends had made. Last year you simply just weren’t up for anything and they both respected that and let you do your own thing, Kate of course still made sure to tell you how much you mean to her. You couldn’t help by wonder why Kate and Yelena had such a profound love for you as you only ever thought of yourself as damaged goods. 

You turned the shower off and began to get dressed for the day, Kate was still decorating the Valentine’s themed cookies while Yelena was giving Fanny and Lucky their daily training session. You wore black jeans, your favourite boots and one of your comfort tees before you made your way into the kitchen of the shared apartment. 

“Happy Valentines!!” Kate smiled the moment she saw you. She grabbed the plate of cookies and wandered over to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. “I made these for you” she added happily. 

“Thank you, they look really good darling, happy Valentines” you replied with a smile, “I’ll have some after lunch” you added.

“Sure thing love” Kate said before she placed the cookies back on the countertop. 

Yelena entered the kitchen with both dogs following behind her, “Happy Valentines detka” she said with a soft smile. You returned the smile, “Happy Valentines love” you replied. You didn’t quite understand Valentine’s Day, you thought it was just an excuse for people to spend more money on gifts or just another day for people to think about other than their day-to-day life. 

“So, I have something planned for us to do tonight, if you’re up for it of course and it’s okay if you’re not but” Kate paused before she rushed to the dining table to return with two envelopes in hand, “please read this and then you can decide if you want to do something or not” she went on, handing you the envelops. You were a little confused, but you smiled softly, “do you want me to read these now?” you asked, unsure when you were supposed to read them. 

“Yeah” Yelena nodded, “Kate and I are going to go out for an hour to give you the time to read them, if you need us, text us and we will come straight home” she added while Kate threw on her coat. You watched as your girlfriends took the dogs and walked out the door, leaving you in complete silence as you sat down on the sofa. Each envelop at your name on them, and you were able to tell whose letter was who’s by their handwriting. You started with Kate’s letter. 

“Dearest Y/n,

Where do I start? There are so many things I want to say but Yelena told me to do my best not to overwhelm you with my feelings. So, if I do overwhelm you, I apologise.

From the moment I saw you, I knew there was something different about you. I can’t imagine the things you’d been going through before we found you that day but when I saw the look in your beautiful eyes, I promised myself in that moment that I would never let anything bad happen to you again and that I would do everything in my power to make you see you are much, much more than just an experiment. 

I know you never had a great start to life and if I could change the past, I would do so in a heartbeat! 

Okay, Yelena was just reading this over my shoulder, so I am going to get to the point…

I want to show you every single day how much I adore you, how much I love seeing you smile, the sparkle in your eyes when your laughing, God, your laugh is magical! It makes everybody around you join in. I know you think Valentines is a bit of an unnecessary day and I totally see why you think that but, hear me out. It’s really just an excuse for me to give you as many gifts as I like, to buy store brought cookies and decorate them and we all act like I baked them and of course, for me to make you smile. I want everybody to see the person who makes me giggle and happy, I want people to see the smile that I fell in love with.

Please join us to spoil you with love today, I promise I didn’t go overboard.

With all my love, 

Kate xoxoxoxo” 

You finished Kate’s letter with a chuckle, it was very Kate and you loved that. Next was Yelena’s letter and for some reason you felt a little more nervous to open hers. 

“Detka,

I am sure Kate has done most then woo you with her letter, I hope she didn’t ramble too much! But I know whatever she said in her letter, she is right. 

You and I come from such different backgrounds to her. When I first met her, I didn’t understand why all the little things mattered so much. You and I, although come from different situations, we share the same mindset. We were weapons, nothing mattered to us but the target. Christmas and Thanksgiving for me was all fake, a set up for some photos and for a moment to think that things were different but the next day I was back to training. 

Kate, she loves all these little days and between you and I, she’s made me love them too. It’s easier said than done but we can’t let them have any power over us anymore detka. You are allowed to be happy; you are allowed to enjoy little things; you are allowed to love the things you love and dislike the things you dislike. You can wake up at 3 in the afternoon and that’s okay.

The point is, it’s okay. You’re okay. Maybe not fantastic or as happy as you want but to me and to Kate, you are perfect. 

We love you detka and there’s nobody else we would want to do this life thing with. It’s you detka, you make us better, stronger and no words will every explain just how much you mean to us. So, join us tonight or don’t, we will never hold be mad at you for doing what you need to do in the moment. You have the power now darling, you always had.

Love,

Yelena x”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded Yelena’s letter and placed it on the coffee table. You smiled softly to yourself as you reached for your phone. Your girlfriends’ words floated around in your mind as your thumb hovered over Kate’s phone number, your heart felt full, full of love that you wanted to share with them so instead of calling Kate, you called Wanda for a little help.

----

“Thank you for help Wands, I am so sorry I had to drag you away from Nat” you smiled at Wanda as you walked her to the door. “Don’t stress honey, they are going to love it” Wanda replied, “if you need anything, you know you can always reach out” she added. 

“I will, thank you. Happy Valentines” you replied. 

Once Wanda left, you double check to make sure everything was perfect before you called Kate. It was very handy that Wanda could pull anything from her magic, the apartment was littered with pink and purple rose petals, candles lit up the apartment while the freshly made pizza was sitting in the centre of the dining table just waiting to be ripped into. 

“Kate, I’m ready, I would love to do something with you and Yelena” you smiled to yourself as Kate answered the phone. “We’ll be back in 10! Get ready, I have something special planned!” Kate replied before hanging up. 

It was the longest 10 minutes of your life, your palms began to sweat, your mind racing in hopes that you didn’t go overboard with this little surprise and that Kate wouldn’t be disappointed. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the door open, you stood at the end of the small hall with two roses and a welcoming, warm smile. “Bab-“ Kate paused the moment she saw you, “we’re home” she added slowly. 

“I know you’ve made plans and we can do them, I just” you paused as you took a few steps closer to your girlfriends, closing the gap distance between you all, “I just want you both to know how much those letters mean to me and I am really sorry that I’ve been so closed minded to days like these, I love you both so, so much” you went on, handing them a rose each. 

“To hell with my plans, this is perfect” Kate said, smelling her rose and embracing you in a tight hug. Yelena smiled lovingly you before Kate pulled back only to kiss you deeply. Your hands landed on her hips, pulling her closer to you to deepen the kiss. 

“I’m proud of you” Yelena mouthed as you and Kate pulled away for air. You smiled softly at her, “we shouldn’t let the pizza get cold” you said. 

“You got pizza?! This is the best Valentine’s Day ever!!” Kate said before making her way into the dining room. “There’s almost mac n cheese” you said as Yelena gently pulled you close to her, “You’re amazing, don’t ever forget that” she said before kissing you deeply. 

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[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

Rainbows and Hospital Rooms

Based of @mindofharry 's idea of Harry being a grumpy doctor and Y/N is a new intern at the hospital :)

Word Count: 1.5k

Y/N wasn’t really sure what to expect when she walked through the revolving doors of St Thomas’ Hospital. 

She’d been awake since four am, too excited about her first day as an intern. All she’d ever wanted was to help people. Before her mum passed away, she would call her a guardian angel - always around to lend a hand whenever there was trouble. Y/N believed that her mum was her guardian angel now, looking down on her in heaven. Her sweet, bubbly nature only added to her charm. She befriended everyone she met within moments, in fact Y/N was pretty sure she hadn’t met someone she hadn’t been able to win over eventually. You see, Y/N got a kick out of being kind. Whether it be letting someone ahead of her in the grocery line or sharing a coffee with the homeless man on her street, Y/N was always looking for a way to spread kindness. 

Making a good first impression was extremely important to Y/N so when she realised that she’s lost in the lobby of the hospital she started to sweat a little bit. She had decided on a whim to bake some cookies for the other interns and since it had taken her longer than expected, she wasn’t early as she had planned, but instead right on time. But being right on time and being lost in the lobby meant that now she was… late. On her first day. 

After asking for directions as quickly as she could, a rather flustered Y/N made her way to the correct room, opening the door quietly and turning red as 5 heads turned to stare in her direction. 4 were interns like her, she could tell. Young, most wearing a nervous expression and in casual clothes. The other person in the room was different. For one, he was standing in front of all the others, evidently leading the group in some sort of welcome. He was older, significantly when compared to the others in the room but Y/N couldn’t imagine he was older than 35. Compared to her 22 years, it was a rather large gap. His eyes were a striking shade of green and when they focused on her, Y/N didn’t like the way it made her feel. A swooping feeling in her stomach overwhelmed her and she felt the urge to leave the way she came, shut the door and go home. It might have been because the man standing before her was outrageously attractive. Quite possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen, with sculpted cheekbones, those eyes, a sharp nose and lips that looked so soft, Y/N almost wanted to lean in and touch them with her own just to see if they were really as soft as they looked. 

Unfortunately for Y/N, accompanying all this beauty was an incredibly frustrated expression and it was directed at her. 

“Miss Y/N I presume. You’re-“ the man looked down at the shiny Rolex on his left wrist. “6 minutes late. Is there a reason why you couldn’t be on time like the rest of your peers or shall we just put it down to plain disrespect?” 

Y/N’s mouth opened and then closed like a fish. She was speechless.

“I’m so sorry um… sir?” She floundered for a moment, pondering what exactly to call him.

“It’s Dr Styles, to you. This isn’t military camp, although I do run a rather tight ship. Now if you would sit down, I can continue.” 

“Ok, Dr Styles it is. I am SO sorry I’m late, you see I was just-

“Please, don’t explain yourself, I don’t have the energy to listen to whatever bullshit story you decided to come up with on the way here. I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat. Every moment I waste on you, is a moment I could be saving someone’s life.”

“But I just wanted to-”

“Y/N. Sit. Down.”

Y/N blinked as he stared at her expectantly, his expression growing more frustrated by the second. She walked slowly to the empty seat in the front row and sat down, feeling rather numb. 

“Now, as I was saying before Miss Y/N decided to make her grand entrance, my name is Dr Harry Styles and I am the head of paediatrics here at St Thomas’. 

Paediatrics? Y/N thought to herself. Oh those poor children being unwell and having to be treated by the biggest asshole on earth. She wondered whether he was just as awful to the patients or whether he had perfected his bedside manner. Probably the latter, he seemed like a perfectionist. Her daydream was interrupted as an older man and woman entered the room, dressed in similar scrubs to Dr Styles. 

“Now, normally I handle all the interns myself, but since there are five of you, and my workload has grown rather heavily over the last year, I have enlisted my colleagues for some help. Dr Hannah Williams and Dr Richard Abrams.” Dr Styles explained, introducing them both. They waved and Dr Williams sent Y/N a smile and Y/N crossed her fingers and toes, hoping that she would be assigned to the nice woman with the warm smile. 

“Max and Amelie you’re with Dr Abrams. Rachel and Luke, you’re with Dr Williams. And that leaves… ”

Y/N’s heart sank.

“Y/N, you’re with me. Lucky you.” He smirked at her obvious lack of enthusiasm before continuing. 

“I’m sure you’re all aware that this is a 6 week internship. While I may not be directly supervising all of you, I will be observing you all closely. At the end of your period at St Thomas’ one of you will be offered a permanent position here. My advice? Do you best, and use what you know. You were all offered this internship for a reason, you’ve got the next six weeks to prove to me why you deserve to be here. Y/N come with me. Max and Amelie, Richard will show you where to go. Same for you Luke and Rachel, Hannah has you guys covered.” 

Y/N gathered her things quickly as Dr Styles left the room swiftly. She trailed behind him, mustering up the courage to speak. 

“Is there a reason you were so horrible to me in there?” The words left Y/N’s mouth before she could stop them and Dr Styles stopped walking abruptly in the middle of the corridor, almost causing her to face plant into his back. 

“Oh grow up Y/N. Welcome to the real world. I don’t have energy to waste on people who aren’t punctual. If this is too much for you to handle, or If I’m too much for you to handle, quit. No one is stopping you.”

He waited expectantly, but Y/N was silent.

“Good. Now if you’re done with your little outburst, we have patients to see. Try not to waste my time Y/N. Most people don’t dare to talk back to me, especially on the first day. I picked you because you intrigued me and I thought I saw potential. Don’t prove me wrong.” 

Y/N nodded, her thoughts going a million miles a minute. Dr Styles led her into a closed corridor, where the walls were filled with colour, shapes and animals.

“The first patient we’re going to see today is a 5 year old named Jackson. Jackson has stage 3 terminal cancer. At this stage it’s all about keeping him comfortable. He’s wary of new people, so just be gentle.”

He opened a door, and it was almost like someone had flipped a switch. The second the door had opened, Dr Styles’ face had switched from a stern expression to a wide smile. He was so pretty when he smiled, Y/N thought, before shaking it from her head and following him into the room. 

“Hey little superman! How are we feeling today?” Dr Styles asked the young boy, who was lying in the bed watching a dinosaur cartoon on his iPad. Y/N’s heart broke at the number of wires and medical equipment surrounding the little boy. 

“I’m bored. Can I go play outside?? Please Harry pleaseeeee.” Jackson pouted his lips at Dr Styles and Y/N suppressed a giggle. She watched him as a flicker of emotion crossed his face before he shook his head.

“Sorry not today little dude, but how about I try and get Nurse Rebecca to bring you something special later on?”

“Ok.” Jackson’s face fell as he directed his attention back to the screen. Y/N shifted slightly to the side and he looked up, making eye contact with her.

“Who’s that? Is she your girlfriend Harry? She’s very pretty.”

Y/N turned bright red and Dr Styles seemed to choke on air before spluttering out a response. 

“Not my girlfriend Jackson. This is Y/N, I’m showing her what it’s like to work here.”

“Hi Jackson, it’s nice to meet you!” Y/N sent the boy a small wave and he waved back. 

“We’ll come and visit you again later buddy ok?” Dr Styles ushered Y/N slowly out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

They stood in silence for a moment, Dr Styles watching Jackson through the small window, a pensive expression on his face. 

“He’s a really sweet kid.” Y/N spoke softly. 

“He is.” Dr Styles agreed gruffly, and Y/N watched as his eyes began to mist. But as quickly as the tears had formed, they were gone and he was blinking them away and continuing down the hallway. 

“Hurry up Y/N we have people to see and you know how I feel about punctuality.” 

Y/N smiled softly, trailing after him. There was something there, more to Dr Styles than he was letting her see and Y/N was determined to figure him out.

A/N: Hello!! This was a super short random thing that I might continue hehe

Tags:

@lukesaprince @harrys-flower @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge