#DESPITE THE ANIMOSITY OF YOUR BEGINNINGS

[allfearstofallto]

saw yr posts abt submissive yanderes, and hear me out, tartaglia. i mean this from the bottom of my heart he is the one that wants you to do things to him, and while that’s not exactly submission i think it’s close enough?

just… in my mind he wants anything you’ll give him, he’ll give his body up to you, even if you punch and kick him, he takes it, sure he’d rather you treat him the way he would (does?) you, but any touch you give makes him feel like a wild animal.

tartaglia, who just needs you. idek i’m losing my train of thought 🙏

I don't think it's exactly what you wanted, but I got carried away and wrote masochist Childe👉🏾👈🏾. I hope that's okay!!! Personally, as a woman who loves femdom, it felt so good to write this though!! It was like I was going back to my roots.

TW: NSF.W Yandere themes, BDSM (bondage, sadism/masochism), violence, nipple play, unprotected sex, finishing inside, dub-con, overstimulation(?), choking

“Hurt me more,” he cooed while looking up at you with big, eyes full of anticipation. Drool leaking from his lips, his cheek was already red and warm from your stinging slap across it, “C’mon, I know you hate me. Now's your chance to treat me like you do.” He'd goad you with that same smug, smirk on his face.

Childe's big strong arms were tied with a rope to the headboard. The material was tight, digging into the flesh of his wrist anytime he'd struggle against them. But despite the aching pain you could imagine he was feeling, he showed a face of hunger, of desire for more.

His cock, large and twitching, was strained against his boxers, begging to be let free from its confines. When you brought another rough slap down across his cheek, you watched it twitch and leak and darken that already deep fabric with his precum, while he trembled with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

He'd grind his hips up, wanting you to free his aching dick, but you never did. You knew he could cum without it and he did too. Your hand would slide up his chiseled stomach, his body was always slightly colder than what it was supposed to be, and you squeezed one of his pink nipples between your finger tips. As hard as you could. Squeezing and twisting until your hand shook.

Lips clenched together, he muffled his own moans. His cock twitched in his underwear a few more times, the head of it rubbing against the precum he'd already spilled on his boxers .He came like that, the many shots of his semen continuing to soak the cloth until it began to drip down his cock again.

When he stilled from his orgasm, his body still twitching, he smiled at you lovingly. All the disgust you felt towards him still there, you'd turn away without a word.

You never took yourself to be much of a sadist, the idea of it being like a whisper of the night, never being brought to the day, but that was before Childe took you. Locked away in his home, falling victim to his torture that he called love, you felt animosity towards him grow. That animosity would turn into violent fits of rage, ones that he never took seriously. There was no way you could actually hurt a harbinger, especially without a vision, but that didn't stop you from trying. And one fateful day, you actually managed to connect a punch to his jaw.

It was your first time ever punching someone and felt more like you were hitting a brick wall than a person. You shook your sore hand out, immediately regretting what you'd done for the pain it caused you instead. But Childe stood there stiff, a little bruise forming on the side of his face. His eyes had rolled back, body beginning to shutter. His mouth agape, he let out a soft, low moan. You were going to tell him to stop joking around, that he wasn't funny, until he dropped to his knees in front of you, a wet patch forming on the front of his pants. Childe had cum just from your little act of violence.

While he loved the art of fighting. The rush that ending another life gave him, the way his body felt while he was throwing punches, it was an unmatchable adrenaline rush, he never knew he was one for pain. Pain from your hands felt different. It felt pleasurable. A familiar stinging followed by tingles that shot through his body. Only you could do that to him.

“You're incredible, my angel,” he moaned while kissing up your thighs, wanting to do more with this new found knowledge of his.

He had you laid back on the bed, pounding into your tender cunt with little mercy. Each long stroke of his cock made your toes curl from the unwanted pleasure of him hitting your insides. Your legs on his hips, you squeezed the sheets for leverage as you begged for him to stop, or at the very least slow down. He was going to fast, too drunk and clumsy from the satisfaction your dripping pussy was giving him.

Childe’s large hand engulfed your wrist, a feeling you were familiar with. Instead of holding you in place so he could fuck you deeper into the mattress with less struggle from you like you thought he would, he lifted it up and placed your palm to his neck.

“Make me,” he growled, lust clouding his eyes. Uncertainty caused you to tremble for a moment before you realized that this was Childe, nothing you could do could actually hurt him. He was asking for it, even going as far as to lift your legs higher, to thrust into you deeper, to make you try to stop him more.

You squeezed that muscled throat, choking him with the hope that he might actually die, but knowing better. He loved it, his already obnoxious moans were even louder than before. His thrusts felt even more rough, hips slapping against yours as you actually felt yourself growing a little aroused from this and he noticed too. A smirk on his face as he struggled to inhale, but still fucking you at that same brutal pace with those same deep, strokes.

He strained to speak as he tried to tell you he was cumming, his mouth just opening and closing, drooling down his chin. Childe forced his cock balls deep inside of you, going so deep with his length it almost felt uncomfortable. He began to cum, dick twitching like mad against your walls. Soft whimpers and groans would drop from his lips as you didn't let go of him, only squeezing his throat tighter.

His cock didn't get the chance to soften, he stayed hard as he started slow, shallow thrusts into your pussy again. The mixture of the pain of overstimulation and lack of air from your choking has him convulsing, but he didn't pull out, using his own cum as lube.

“Ah…hah…just say you want to milk me dry, my love, I'll keep going,” he managed to grunt through tears, his orange hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

#mai<3 answers #genshin #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #genshin impact #yandere smut #yandere imagines #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe smut #childe smut #childe x reader #mdni

[mphountitled]

𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

Aegon Targaryen x Fem!reader

Summary: You were the only one who truly saw the tortured king. Not his mother, not his brother, and certainly not his wife.

Warning: Language, Infidelity, Humiliation, Toxicity, King Complex, Slight Angst, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, Canon typical Incest, Grinding, Forced orgasm, King Kink?, Dom/Sub Themes, Controlled Orgasm, Ownership Kink, Dub/Con, Groping, Humping, Pussy rubbing, Exhibition Kink

This isn't very good, I admit. I just needed to get it out of my head.

Despite your eye following the pathway of High Valyrian ink splashed on the weathered pages of your book, your brain takes forever to process the words.. It is a story you had enjoyed since the days of your wetnurse but now you are focused on the utter injustices occurring by the dinner table before you. You always found your nose nestled in a book throughout dinner, all save for this one.

The Queen mother is bent over her plate, forgetting her table manners in the vehemence of her passions, while Aemond assumes a hostile glare from his perch at the head of the table. Aegon sits slumped in between you and Helena, with his half lidded eyes so painfully tedious as he prods at his food, while these fake gods scold him from above.

"And to make matters impossibly worse, you failed to display even a shred of sympathy towards his condition-" Despite the nature of his mother's tone, it does not stop Aegon from rebutting where necessary, with a quick, sharpness on his tongue.

"This 'condition' you speak of, being the imprisonment of a wealthy merchant's stupid son." Aegon releases a short, winded chuckle, one that you share behind the concealment of your book. "Perhaps he shouldn't have gotten himself captured."

"He is apart of your battalion, Aegon- fighting your war-"

"I am not at war. As I sit here, I am not harbouring any ill feelings towards any party-"

Aemond interrupts, "All you think about is fucking and drinking-"

"Precisely brother!" Aegon proceeds to turn to his mother, with his hands splayed outwards he reiterates, "All I think about is fucking and drinking,"

A loud, unladylike snort escapes the confines of your throat which you attempt to sheath with a cough as you study the words in your book. Aemond rolls his eyes while Aegon throws a blatant smirk beside you- "See Mother! Now our dear cousin has fallen ill as a result of the animosity stirred by your incessant scolding!” Aegon’s voice is doused in sarcasm as he rubs his hand into your shoulder, “All because of your nagging, mother," Alicent’s eyes darken as her voice descends into caution "Aegon. Tomorrow you are to formally apologise to that Knight. He is a seasoned member of your Kingsguard-" The politics was becoming far too much on him. His grip has yet to leave your shoulder.

"Why the complete and utter fuck should I be pandering to my subjects?"

Aemond is the first to inject "Have you not a shred of Diplomacy, you fucking imbecile?" You eye Aemond from above your book, and you cannot begin to imagine the younger brother would ever inject himself into Aegon's business, no reason except perhaps, jealousy?

Aegon promptly ignores Aegon, and, with his eyes on Alicent, he leans over the table and whispers:

"If Rhaenyra wishes to have the crown, she may gladly take it-"

"AEGON!" The queen's thunderous voice settles over the table like a tempest, injecting all those present with a sharp, instinctive flinch, all except Aegon, who remains lax and unaffected by her outburst, only fueling the Queen's anger to first born tenfold.

"I cannot rely on you for anything, Aegon, NOTHING! For a mother to be so utterly embarrassed by her son- her eldest son," there is venom in her incredulity, one that has your brows curving as you send a sympathetic gaze at the Usurper. You lower your novel and lean slightly closer to the battlefield that has befallen the dinner table. Aegon’s hand drops from your shoulder, landing in your lap. You clasp his trembling hand in both of yours.

How a simple visit to see your cousins in King's Landing had turned into a public execution of Aegon's dignity, is utterly beyond you. You decide that you simply will not allow it, you cannot allow it, and solidarity is all you hope Aegon feels radiating from your clasped hands under the table.. You look up at him, thinking you might look up to find anguish in Aegon's eyes, but all you find there is a sly, almost secretive smirk dancing along his visage.

"You govern this country like a child-" Aemond begins but you're quick to snip back,

"Perhaps we should be mindful, cousin of the fact that Aegon still is a child. He is but 20 years in age!" You exclaim, with your own incredulity coating your laughter, "Aegon's destiny was pre-written when you were barely able to wipe your own shit, Cousin." Aegon fails to conceal his crass bought of laughter.

"I've no time for this," Alicent says, pushing herself out of her chair before rising in silent anger, "Helena, come," she commands before leading a slightly aloof Helena out the dining hall without another word. Helena mumbles something about broken unions in iron castings before disappearing.

The silence is deafening as Aemond's one eye studies the two of you - he is not able to see your hand underneath the table, you don’t think…

"Before you think about fucking our cousin, at least think about fucking your wife." Aemond announces, to an amused Aegon who keeps his amused gaze lowered to the table. It is then that Aegon squeezes your hand, still seated on your lap. His fingers encircle yours in what you initially deduce is acknowledgement of your solidarity, but what you quickly realise is something much more sinister.

"I cannot say I will heed your counsel, brother," It is then that Aegon grabs ahold of your hand, guiding you until your palm is cupping his hardened cock. "But you can trust that your council is solemnly heard."

Aemond watches you from above the rim of his chalice as he empties the final traces of his wine before placing his chalice back on the table. His exit is a slow one, one that has your anticipation expanding and Aegon's patience waning. In all honesty, hearing your valiant defence to preserve his dignity raised an intense feeling of desire in Aegon. Even though Aegon's only feeling ever, always seemed to be desire.

"Come here," He says once Aemond footsteps have echoed away, "I need your mouth," Despite his command, Aegon is already leaning in with his hand cupping the back of your skull. Soon, all you can smell is him. All you can feel is him. All you can taste is the drunken and sunken taste of him.

His tongue forces its way into your mouth, ripping a fresh groan from inside you as he twirls you into his lap. He has you arrested on him, his front to your back, with your arse pressed on his crotch. His hand on your face cranes your neck backwards and forces his mouth on yours, promising that even if you wanted to free yourself, you may never be able to.

"I love how you see me," He whispers, never breaking away too far, in fear of you disappearing, "How utterly pleased I am with the version of myself I see living in your eyes," His words spill out of him and slip inside your mouth bridged by your shared saliva.

"He is not useless. He is not pitiful," Aegon breaks away from the kiss, to lay a palm on your cheek.

As one hand lovingly strokes the side of your face, Aegon’s other hand is ravenous, as it palms your sensitive breasts through the bodice of your dress.

"Thank you for not judging me," He all but whimpers as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in until his hips attempt to grind into you like a touch starved adolescent boy, while he ventures under your soft skirts.

"You don't have to thank me, Aegon." Your hands reach backwards to cradle his head into the crook of neck just as Aegon's fingers reach around to hook into the seat of your underwear. You aren't nearly as aroused as him, but somehow that fact has Aegon spiralling even further into arousal. His eyes are squeezed shut as he leans into you, smelling you, while his fingers drift over your pussy, searching desperately for a reaction.

"It is very rare that I find myself wanting to give any woman pleasure," Aegon's admits, with a low, dense drawl. His actions steal the breath from your very lungs as you feel the first sign of wetness begin to coat your underwear. He is in utter awe when he feels it. Quickly descending into a level of pleasure that he was not even sure existed, "I fucking love your cunt," He murmurs in his desperate drunken haze, "I wish to play with it and taste it and fuck it until you’re barely able to speak-"

"God's, Aegon!" Your voice is hoarse and your cries reach the highest rafter of the dining hall. Despite your degenerate wails, Aegon does little to stop them, in fact he encourages them, as his fingers push your underwear aside.

"When did you get so fucking wet?" The warmth of his breath fans against your cheeks, as he presses his front against your behind, "Did I get you this wet?" He asks, before getting the strongest surge of arousal as he whispers, "Did your King get you this wet?"

All you are able to accomplish is a nod as your mind explodes with vibrant visions of your near release. Soon, you're moving your hips in tandem with Aegon's fingers squeezing sloppily at your clit before rubbing with vicious surety.

"Please-"

"Call me by my title," He whispers, completely stripped from his sensibilities. "Tell your King to make you come," Aegon's brain is filled with what he suspects is determination. He is determined to see the most lecherous parts of you crack, and have it done by his design. He rubs your cunt with furious passion while he pushes up from underneath you, utterly destroyed by the idea of having a monopolised control over the workings of your body.

"Fuck- please my King!" The ache between your legs is as warm and erratic as Aegon's hands. "Please let me cum-"

"Tis only I, who can get My Lady this wet and needy," He murmurs, quite literally to himself, as he pushes his hips against your arse.

"Only you, My King." You decide to humour him, seeking the quickest way to your release, "Only you can make me cum," Throughout his tirade, Aegon's other, unoccupied hand has reached around and clasped itself against your throat. He is violent in his actions, squeezing deliriously until your throat is vacuumed of all its air. It's an utterly depraved situation you have both found yourselves in.

Anyone could decide to walk in at any moment and Aegon affirms as much. "You're such a pretty little whore, making a mess on my fingers like this. Fuck, The servants could decide to walk through at any moment," His grip on your throat relaxes, allowing you gasp hungrily for air while the first spots of your organs threaten to surge through you.

"P-Please, My King-"

"What would they think if they find you humping my hand like such a needy, little whore?" He is rubbing rough circles against your cunt until finally, you're unable to resist teetering on the edge much longer. As your orgasm washes over you, and your body shudders above him, Aegon's own orgasm is triggered as he forces your hips further onto the seat of his pants.

"My Lord," your voice is shallow but a restless tremor settles on your limbs, "Have you no shame," you're partially jesting, as you try to come back from your previous delirium.

"I've already been branded a devil," He says, "There is no Grace left to fall from."

<3

© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aemond x reader #aegon targaryen smut #hotd smut #aegon smut

[ilythena]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 || 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM falling in love with Quinn was bad, but realizing you loved him was worse.

friends to lovers! My fav trope, Arguing and Quinn thinks you’re too good for your boyfriend, distance, angst, mutual pining, there are slight mentions of a very toxic relationship and abuse so please be advised before reading any further below the line. NOT proofread so……

♪ FIREWORKS - DRAKE

“Quinnifer, pass me the pepper?” “Stop calling me that.”

Cooking spaghetti with a grumbling Quinn over your shoulder, you smile when he begrudgingly hands you what you need and goes back to watching you make the food.

It’s a normal routine for you two, being roommates in college and then eventually working in the same field when Quinn got accepted into umich and you became a part of the medical team for them as an intern and a student, it was pretty difficult to separate you two.

“You excited for the fourth? I can’t wait for the fireworks!” You squeal, and quinn lets out a small smile at your excitement. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to as you about that.” He says, and you turn your eyes off the food for a second to let him know to continue, and he sighs out before speaking. “I was wondering if you wanted to come hang with me and my family? My parents keep asking about how you are and they miss you” he shys out and you laugh.

You met Quinn’s family completely on accident. Last year, Your mutual friend was hanging out with him and when you had stopped by the house he was in, Quinn and his whole family was there as well. It wasn’t awkward for a second, his mother opening up her arms to you and it was like you were with your own family.

“Actually, my parents are going out the country so i’d love to! How are your parents? Your Brothers too.” You turn off the stove and move to grab two plates, making them for you two.

“They’re good. They miss you too, especially Luke.” Quinn grabs a fork and sits down, not hesitating to eat as soon as you put his plate down. “Aww, I miss lukey too! He’s my favorite.” You smirk and laugh when quinn huffs in disapproval.

Looking down at your phone, the date is December 26th, 2017. You can see a few text from your mother and some friends, but ultimately decide to put your phone down when Quinn turns on the TV and plays your favorite show. Nothing can compared to right now.

“Hey, Quinn?” You say, Quinn hums and you grab a blanket to cover your lap. “Is it cool if I bring my boyfriend along? Cause I already know you’re bringing a few friends along.” Quinn stops chewing for a second, but lets out a ‘sure’, despite him secretly not wanting to.

Quinn and your boyfriend don’t have the most ideal relationship. It was pretty good in the beginning, but when you and your boyfriend started arguing more and more Quinn started to hold grudges against him. Trying to convince you to break up with him multiple times and failing, him and your boyfriend have this secret animosity that they can’t seem to bring up with each other.

“I know you two don’t get along, I’ll tell him to be on his best behavior if he decides to come along. Cause with or without him I’ll be there regardless quinnifer, I promise.” You smile and he groans at the cheesy nickname you’ve given him.

The next time you see Quinn’s family again is on December 31st, New Year’s Eve.

Everyone’s here. Quinn’s friends, luke and jack’s friends, family friends, random people you’re not sure Quinn even knows, everyone.

You can smell hamburgers in the air and you’re taking a sip of the water you have in your hand when Luke gently grabs you by the shoulder to say hello.

“Lukey!” You shout, grabbing him in excitement after finally being able to see the youngest Hughes after a while. “Y/n! I’ve been looking for you all night!” He smiles, swaying the two of you back and forth as you two laugh together. “I’m not that hard to find, eh?” “Well, Quinn wasn’t any help at all.” You hear another voice groan and you can see Jack with a bag of chips in his hand when you let go of Luke to hug him as well

“He’s never any help.” you joke and steal a chip from the bag while Jack snatches it back although too late. “True.” Your boyfriend says and with a side eye, you’re suddenly reminded of his presence. “Oh! Jack, Luke, I don’t think I’ve ever introduced you to my boyfriend! This is Dallas.” You say, motioning your hands to him as he waves a hand hello.

“Nice to meet you.” He says and extends a hand out in greeting. The two boys look at each other in a way you can’t describe and hesitantly reach out to shake his hand. As you watch them talk to each other, you spot Ellen in the corner of your eye and walk up to her to say hello.

“Oh! Y/n! I haven’t seen you in a while!” She says with happiness evident in her voice as she hugs you. “Mrs.Hughes! I missed you!” “Hun, you can call me Ellen” slowly letting you go so that you can say hello to Jim as well, you tell Them about how college is going for you, letting them know all the details they please.

As they get wrapped up into another conversation with someone else, you take a seat on a chair that’s been left alone and take in the sight of everyone getting along infront of you.

You only get about 5 minutes to relax before Quinn pops up beside you, not saying anything because he didn’t want to interrupt your focus. You turn your head to look at a tree and magically see Quinn and he smiles at you.

“Hey.” “Hey!” You two say to each other and laugh. “You okay? Everything alright?” “Yeah, this is great. Thanks for inviting me, Quinnifer.” You softly grab his hand and he can feel heat rushing to his face. “You’re welcome” he mumbles and you let out a toothy grin.

You’re enjoying the comfortable silence with Quinn, letting the conversations near you two and the wind blowing do all the talking for you two. Quinn’s mom calls him over and he nods to you in a ‘I’ll see you later’ way while you wave him goodbye.

You’re left alone again sitting in silence, when suddenly a dark shadow is casting over you. You look towards the cause of it and there stands your boyfriend—unhappy and irritated.

“Can I help you?” Brushing the hair out of your face, you look him up and down and it’s as if he’s had enough. he grabs you by your arm, yanks you up, and pulls you farther outside where nobody can see you two unless they go looking.

“Actually, yes you fucking can, y/n.” He snaps and you mentally roll your eyes at what could have possibly happened in the 10 minutes you were gone.

“You think I didn’t see that? That little thing you and him did? I’m so tired of you sitting here and pretending like nothings going on with you two.”

“Pretending what’s going on with us, Dallas? There is nothing going on.” Leaning on the tree to your right, you can see the anger rising in his face.

“Oh yeah, act oblivious like you always do. You know, if you were gonna sit up here and be a whore in front of my face, why did you even invite me here?” He yells, the wind blowing harder and the leaves shaking under their wrath. “Dallas, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted you to come here because I know all of our friends are here and I didn’t want you to feel left out simply because it’s at Quinn’s parents house.”

“Go to hell, y/n. That man is in love with you and you have the fucking audacity to invite me here? Fucking bitch.” Your throat closes in on you when he steps closer to you, eyes black and unreadable.

“If you hate him so much why did you come! Just because I invited you doesn’t mean you had to say yes! I’m so sick of these petty arguments!” Standing up straight to walk away, he slams you back into the tree. You wince in pain, your back taking most of the damage.

“Dallas, let me go” you whisper, and his grip on you only tightens. “Or what? What are you gonna do, y/n? Call Quinn over to help you? I’m so fucking sick of your mouth.” Roughly gripping your chin between his fingers to force you to look up at him, the only thing you can feel is fear.

“Hello? Anyone back here?” A voice calls out, and you can immediately tell right off the bat it’s Quinn. In the moment of your boyfriend’s distraction, you make a run for it. Bolting out of the tree he had you against and running straight into the house.

You got a few concerned stares speeding up the stares, and the anxiety in your stomach stirred harder when you heard your boyfriend and Quinn arguing outside.

You ran right into Quinn’s room and slammed the door, heavy breathing and tears streaming down your face. After what felt like a minute to you but in reality was about 15, you could hear steps outside of Quinn’s room and the door slowly opening.

It was Quinn. It’s always Quinn. You can’t control the sobbing when you see him and he doesn’t hesitate to softly close the door and comfort you with gentle words and a grounding hug.

Your sobs simmer down into soft sniffles and Quinn has his arms wrapped around you tightly. No words said between you two, but a knowing understand.

After wiping the remaining tears off your face, you can see the softest look on Quinn’s face when he looks down at you. “Why didn’t you tell me he was like that?” He whispered and despite the heaviness of the situation, you let out a dry chuckle

“It was different this time.” You croak out. “It was like a different version of him. I mean, we’ve been having issues a lot recently but he’s never reacted to it like this.” Snuggling you closer to him, Quinn tucks your face into his neck and rubs your back.

He freezes when you let out a small hiss, moving his hand off your upper back to see a few bruises forming from his treatment of you earlier.

“Did he fucking hit you?” He states quickly, to which you might’ve taken a second too long to answer because you can see the confused-angry-sadness rise onto his face.

“H-he didn’t like hit me! Like, he slammed me into the tree and grabbed me really rough, which I know isn’t-“ “y/n. I just want you to be okay.” Letting out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding, you melt into Quinn’s chest and he presses a small kiss into your hairline.

“I am okay.” You breathe out and he closes his eyes to properly collect himself. “Has he ever done that before?” “…..he’s never hit me before. He’s broken a lot of stuff before. That was all. I irritated him a lot, and maybe I should’ve-“

“Don’t you even dare to think that anything he did was your fault.” Cutting you off and looking you dead in your eyes, you give up on your words and just slump against him in silence.

You two stay there for a while, just sitting against each other and you’re taking in what truly happened.

The months are seeming to move quicker. Before you know it, Quinn’s being drafted.

He’s moved out, the apartment you two shared being eerily quiet as you sit down in the living room, watching the tv on a low volume.

Pictures of you and Quinn are still up on the walls, and everything Quinn left behind hasn’t been touched since he left you. It’s not like you two stopped talking, but it’s definitely been less since the distance between you two.

Playing with an abandoned string on the side of your cardigan, you realize it’s too quiet. And it’s making you sad.

As if he knew what was happening, your phone lit up with Quinn’s contact on your phone. You picked it up immediately and his voice came through the speaker.

“Hey, you okay?” “Yeah, ‘m fine.” “What’re you doing? Taking good care of the apartment?” You can hear rustling in the back of the call, which makes you smile a little

“Everything’s fine. Stuck right where you left it, Quinn.” You whisper, and he frowns on the other side of the line. “What’s wrong?” “Nothings wrong.” “Somethings wrong, y/n. You don’t call me Quinn unless you’re upset.”

Biting your bottom lip, you hesitate for a moment before whispering a very quiet “just miss you.” The phone barely picks it up but Quinn can hear it, and it tugs at his heart.

After the incident at the New Year’s party, you two grew impossibly closer. This was his first time being so far away from you in a long time and he knew how badly it was affecting you.

“Miss you too. If your schedules still the same, I might be able to come see you? I have a little off time.” He can hear you jump over the phone, immediately booking a ticket when you let the first letter of please come out of your mouth.

“I’ll come see you on Wednesday, how does that sound? I’ll stay until Sunday.” And you’re blocking out all plans on those days, a bright smile on your face.

Your nerves eat at you for those two days you had to wait until Quinn arrived, Nearly jumping on him as soon as he touched down in the airport. You were near him a lot, and when you were scared you were being clingy he shut those fears down immediately and told you how much he missed you too.

“You really did leave everything the same, huh? Guess my artistic skills are so good there’s nothing to change.” He jokes and you scoff “well… I did take down that hideous curtain design you chose.” Giggling when he gasps in fake offense.

“I miss this place a lot, you know? It’s always like I’m home here.” “Well before you get comfortable, take off the shoes. I don’t need dirt on my floor.”

You two sat on the couch and talked. You two talked for hours, as if it was a part of normal routine for you two.

“How’s Vancouver? Heard it’s nice” you mumbled, and he smiles softly. “Good. It’s good. Would be better if you were with me, though.” Grinning you nudge him and he looks at you with an undistinguishable look.

“I’m serious. You always told me how you were looking to be in the medical team for the nhl, and the canucks need a new team member. I think you should come with me when I go back so I can introduce you to the team-“ “what? Quinn, you can’t just surprise me with that!” Sitting upright, he laughs as if he wasn’t trying to literally convince you to move.

“Where would I even stay-“ “stay with me. I’ll always let you stay with me, y/n” “I’m not gonna burden you with that.” “How would it be a burden if I’m offering it to you?”

Eyes softening, you’re left speechless. Taking your silence as a nudge to continue, Quinn lets his truth out. “I know how hard it is for you staying here. Kidra told me you were crying a few days ago because it was too lonely for you. I know you miss me, and I really fucking miss you, y/n.”

You two stare at each other for a second, and before you knew it your lips were on his and all the breath you had in your lungs were knocked out. “Come with me, come with me and I swear to everything you won’t regret it. I want you so badly, and my family already thinks we’re basically dating.”

The soft brown locks of Quinn’s hair between your fingers becomes more apparent when you come back to reality. “I want you too. And I want to come with you. I’m scared, Quinn.” “Don’t be. I’ll be here with you. I’m willing to do anything with you.”

The warm summer air is flowing through your window, sending a shiver down your spine. This is your chance. This is what you’ve thought about since he’s left. Wondering when you could be with him again.

“Yes. Yes I’ll go. Fuck, should I pack a bag? I need to book a ticket. Are we going now? What’s happening-“ with another kiss to your lips, you two lay on the couch enjoy each others presence once more.

“We’ll figure it out in the morning. Right now, I just want you in my arms.”

© copyright of ilythena. Do not repost or translate onto any other websites.

Very abrupt ending but I genuinely wanted to post today. Going on break soon, so more fics coming very soon!

#fanfic #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #luke hughes #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #nhl x you #x reader #I love Quinnifer u guys. #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #qui

[mikavlcs]

Had Enough

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Xavier starts to get overzealous with you. Wednesday puts him in his place.

Warnings: mild Xavier slander (sorry bud), possessive-ish wednesday

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: another request. hope you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist

Despite Wednesday’s reputation, there were very few people she classified as true enemies.

Sure, she despised the general population of Nevermore, but since she and Bianca had cultivated something akin to a friendship, there wasn’t anyone specific that haunted her thoughts during the day. 

However, Xavier Thorpe was quickly shaping up to be the new target of her antagonism.

She and Xavier had a somewhat complicated relationship. Their issues from her first semester had been largely smoothed over since she took an arrow for him and he gifted her that dreaded iPhone in return. They weren’t exactly friends, but there was no animosity between them.

His feelings for her seemed to pass as well, something Wednesday was eternally grateful for. Unfortunately, it seemed that the new recipient of these romantic feelings was you. And that was completely unacceptable.

She despised the way he insisted on sitting near the both of you during classes to try and impress you with his abilities or tell you terrible jokes in the middle of lectures.

And there were few things that angered her more than seeing him put his arm around you during conversation or ghosting his hand on your back while walking in the hallways.

She wasn’t jealous. No, jealousy had nothing to do with it. In fact, she found the situation laughable, hilarious even. That Xavier, the blank canvas of a man that he was, thought he could take what was hers.

And sure, your relationship wasn’t exactly public. Neither of you was screaming from the rooftops about your feelings because you both preferred to keep your relations private, but it wasn’t as if you were actively hiding it either. Your immediate group of shared friends knew.

Enid, Wednesday had told personally. Only because she wanted the werewolf to know to give the two of you privacy whenever Wednesday brought you to her dorm.

Bianca pieced it together herself, a fact that irritated Wednesday almost as much as the smirk Bianca gave her whenever the two of you walked into fencing class together. Yoko and Divina figured your relationship out because they got, what Enid rather vaguely referred to as, a vibe. Ajax remained blissfully unaware but he was never a threat.

Even other students appeared to cautiously avoid flirting with you in any capacity once they noticed your closeness with Wednesday.

(This carefulness may have also been cultivated by the way Wednesday glared at anyone that got too close for her liking, but that was entirely beside the point.)

The entirety of Nevermore understood that you were spoken for, and she enjoyed that greatly.

But Xavier didn’t appear to comprehend that.

So she would have to take it upon herself to educate him.

-

The quad was quieter than usual.

It wasn’t completely silent. The chatter of a few dozen students melded together, casting a thin blanket of noise over the small space. But it was nowhere near as rambunctious as it normally was on a Friday afternoon. Which meant that it was easy for Wednesday to find you amongst the commotion.

You were sitting at one of the tables on the far side of the quad, pen in hand while you seemingly worked on homework. Your blazer was tied around your waist, fully exposing the vest underneath.

The sky had been covered by clouds all day, but the clouds were beginning to dissipate in places, allowing rays of light to shine through. One of these places happened to be right above your table, clouds parting to envelope you in a halo of light that could fool anyone into thinking you were an angel sent down from the heavens above.

You looked divine. And the only thing stopping Wednesday from stopping and fully appreciating the sight before her was the person seated beside you.

Xavier.

He looked to be helping you with your work. But Wednesday knew better. He was sitting close enough that your thighs were nearly touching, his lanky frame nearly swallowing you whole when he leaned over to look at your textbook. Every time you looked away to write something down, his eyes would trail down the side of your face in a way that absolutely enraged Wednesday.

What drove her over the edge was his decision to grab your hand.

She was marching over to your table within seconds, her gaze absolutely murderous. A few students in her path instantly fled when they saw her expression, but she paid them no mind, focusing solely on how Xavier’s face fell when you pulled your hand out of his grasp. The sight was just enough to stop her from attempting murder, but not enough to deter her entirely.

You were the first to notice her. The way your eyes lit up at the sight of her gave her an unpleasant fuzzy feeling that she loved despised.

“Hi, Wen,” you greeted, giving her one of the warm smiles reserved for her. Wednesday’s glare softened considerably as her eyes moved from Xavier to you.

“Hello, mon cher.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later. Is everything ok?”

The concern in your voice was touching, a reminder of how sweet you were even in less-than-desirable circumstances. But she had other matters to attend to right now.

“Yes. What are you doing?” The question was directed towards you, but her eyes were on Xavier, her fiery gaze boring into him. He squirmed. You didn’t notice.

“Just English homework,” you sighed. Wednesday’s eyes flitted back to you, momentarily drifting to your lips before righting themselves.

“Bring it to my dorm. I can assist you with it myself.”

Xavier started to protest but another glare was enough to quiet him. You looked confused by the sudden change in plans but acquiesced.

“Oh, ok. Let me get my stuff.”

You stood and reached for your textbook only to be stopped by Wednesday.

“Allow me.”

Wednesday began gathering your things for you and in the process, she discreetly leaned over to Xavier and delivered her message, her voice a soft but petrifying whisper.

“Lay your hand on her again and I will remove it. Finger by finger.”

Xavier’s eyes widened with terror, his only response a harsh gulp. Wednesday nearly smiled.

Without another glance in his direction, she stood with your textbook and dragged you off to her dorm. You tried to ask what was going on several times, but she remained silent until she reached her destination.

Once inside her empty dorm, she dropped your things off on her desk and sauntered back to where you were, stopping just in front of you. Your faces were mere inches apart and her eyes wandered back downward against her will.

You began to ask her something, but she cut you off by leaning forward and connecting your lips. A noise of surprise escaped you before you reciprocated, hands instinctively cupping her cheeks. Wednesday tangled one hand into your vest and gripped your tie with the other, lightly tugging you closer. You stayed pressed against one another until you stepped back, slightly dazed.

“What about-“

“Your homework can wait,” Wednesday mumbled, silencing you with her lips once more. She kissed you once, feverish and rough, then again and again and again, until there wasn’t a coherent thought left in your head. Her movements were frenzied—desperate even, and you were helpless to do anything but follow her lead with the same fervor.

When you finally parted for air, she whispered something into the small space between you. Something you didn’t understand, but still wholeheartedly felt.

“Eres mia, mi amor.”

#can you tell i’ve never written anything like this lol #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega

[jubileemon]

Fizzmodeus

Somehow in the infernal landscape of Hell, the relationship between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus, stands out as a sweet love story for the ages.

They were first introduced in the episode 'Ozzie's'. Despite their public disdain for sentimental relationships, they are entangled in a secret romance that defies Hell's social hierarchy and expectations. At first, Fizz and Asmodeus appeared as massive hypocrites, mocking others for their romantic endeavors while secretly harboring their own.

Fizzarolli's life was marked by a traumatic experience with fire, resulting in losing his horns and cybernetic replacements. As he thought Blitzo abandoned him to burn, Fizz began to develop a deep resentment towards his former best friend. Despite his normal jovial nature Fizzarolli suffers from extreme self-worth and self-image issues, the latter of which mostly originating from the severe injuries he received from a circus fire that he was involved in when he was younger. Because of this, he feels like he needs to do whatever Mammon tells him to do, as he feels he must repay the man for all the fame and success being his brand figure has brought, despite how horribly he is treated.

Working under Mammon, the Sin of Greed, further complicates his identity when Fizz became a symbol of Mammon's brand. The cost of fame weighs heavily on him, as public scrutiny and the demands of celebrity challenge his sense of self and personal values. Asmodeus' title as the Sin of Lust comes with its own set of expectations, yet his love for Fizzarolli transcends these. His protective instincts are often on display, particularly when Fizzarolli is in danger or vulnerable. Despite the initial portrayal of their relationship as hypocritical, the secret romance between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus is depicted as both sweet and healthy.

Despite one being a demon prince and one being an imp, and also portraying their partnership in public as purely lustful, Fizzarolli and Asmodeus' relationship is actually as healthy and romantic if not more so than Moxxie and Millie's, where the two are equals who look out for each other. Asmodeus' even lets Fizzarolli go out in public without him or an escort to defend him, despite Ozzie's concerns, because Fizzarolli wants to go alone, a far cry from if Ozzie truly didn't care about Fizzy beyond having sex with him. It's like if Stolas and Blitzø managed to work things out between them and had things be not so rocky.

Hard to believe, but aside from sex jokes, occasional rudeness and his grudge towards his former best friend, Fizzarolli stayed as nice and innocent as he was in childhood, despite all of his trauma. He does admit that it was difficult and challenging at first, but Fizzarolli finding someone who cared so much about him has led to him feeling like he leads a good life.

The relationship between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus is not without its trials. Asmodeus's deep concern for Fizzarolli's well-being is evident when Fizzarolli is taken hostage, an event that ignites Asmodeus's fury and prompts him to take drastic measures to secure Fizzarolli's safety. This protective streak is further shown in their interactions with Mammon, another Prince of Hell, whose abusive and manipulative behavior towards Fizzarolli causes Asmodeus to harbor intense animosity towards him.

In Season 2, Asmodeus reassuring Fizz at the beginning that he doesn't have to worry about being "perfect" for Mammon because perfection is impossible, and that he deserves a break or vacation without having to fend off creeps constantly.

Asmodeus' line when he rephrases his actual feelings in regard to Fizz being in Mammon's clown contest: "I don't like how many creeps you have now, thanks to Mammon. And I don't like designing sex toys with your likeness for him. Pretty sure you feel the same"; this one line has numerous, subtle but still important subtext that really shows how much Asmodeus cares for and respects Fizzarolli. Just the fact that Asmodeus is being honest about his feelings about Fizzarolli being in Mammon's competition.

In most forms of media, when someone doesn't like something that their significant other is doing, they’ll either dance around it until they can’t take it anymore and/or even lie to get their partner to stop. But Asmodeus doesn't do that - when his initial plea doesn't work, he gets straight to the point of him not liking it but in a healthy and mature manner. He doesn't put any blame on Fizzarolli for his own discomfort, instead putting it all rightly on Mammon's greedy shoulders.

Asmodeus' dislike over Fizzarolli as Mammon's brand figure not only comes from a place of concern and worry but respect. In the second sentence of his above-mentioned line, he mentions he does not like having sex toys in Fizz's likeness. Given that he's the King of Lust, one would think he would hardly care, but he does. Because it's his boyfriend using in such a way. Asmodeus also makes sure to note that he's also aware that Fizzarolli doesn't like the sex-bots as well. He's acknowledging not only his own discomfort but his partner's.

After acting like everything's all righr for the majority of the episode and having a full-on panic attack in his dressing room, Fizz finally pours out his insecurities to Asmodeus, telling him that he's terrified of losing him if he doesn't win the pageant because he feels that Ozzie's only with him because of who he is under Mammon's patronage. He even yanks his jester hat off - revealing his scarred, splotchy head and the jagged stumps of what remains of his horns - in an attempt to show Ozzie what he believes he is without Mammon: an ugly, broken, worthless imp.

"Crooked" is a sweet, simple song where Asmodeus and Fizz admit that while they both have their flaws and insecurities.

Asmodeus reassures him of his worth and publicly declares his love, a bold move that underscores the depth of his feelings and his willingness to face potential consequences for the sake of their relationship. Instead of the crowd being shocked or mocking the two, they are all instead excited and reveal they already had theories on it.

Crimson did call Ozzie's relationship with Fizz "the worst-kept secret in all of Hell." Nearly everyone in the crowd probably already knew or at least suspected. Which makes their reaction all the more heartwarming because it's acceptance. One of Ozzie's main worries was being seen as a hypocrite for being the incarnation of carnal hedonism while having a loving, monogamous relationship. It turns out nobody thinks that at all. The King of Lust has fallen in love, and everybody is happy for him.

#helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #fizzarolli #fizzmodeus #fizzarozzie #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss asmodeus #asmodeus x fizzarolli #relationship #couples #true love #romance #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hellaverse #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss fizzmodeus #why i love this ship

[moineauz]

side comments: honestly i'm not sure where this came from... slight spoilers!

Aventurine, whose charming eyes detested the sight of you- a long-standing 'opponent' that interfered and thwarted his contracts and bets despite you both being IPC executives while similarly working your way to the top with nothing but rusted chains.

Aventurine, who never understood how you became his business partner (unwilling) and why.

Aventurine whose cunning nature and blunt truths clashed with your near-reckless manner and sly sugar-coating. He despised you for it: why make contracts when it was never one to begin with? Why speak when your tongue knew only riddles?

Aventurine, who firmly believes that you are a ticking time bomb, your state of being constantly fluctuating in the span of a single coin flip. One moment you would be sipping on a generous glass of velvet wine; laughing airly with the will of a young night. Your face flush and smooth, eyes glistening under the sheer layer of tears while you radiated subtle finesse and benignity. Then, the next moment, you'd spew words of acute and proactive spite before raising the glass and smashing it to the ground. It was no wonder the rookies and high-ups alike trembled in your presence while similarly harbouring the will to spit on your opulent shoes.

Yet, Aventurine knew not to share a glance, rather, he naturally scoffed and occasionally stifled a fit of laughter.

Aventurine, who became drunk and lied to you: saying he forgot the night you brought him home, cooked a meal out of the little food in his fridge, tucked him in bed like the child he truly his. You did it all absent of hesitancy or a word of animosity. In fact, you were silent, perhaps a touch peaceful, as if it was another unassuming night the two of you spent in pleasant silence.

Aventurine, who took note of how you effectively organized his papers with various colours and ensured he had a separate account for gambling.

Aventurine, who promptly cradled you in his arms when you wept salty tears that traced over his lush attire. He never asked why you shrivelled up and quivered, and you never provided an answer.

Aventurine, who finally bid you farewell with a sarcastic smirk and hands that silently quivered when they brushed against yours one last time.

Aventurine, who turned his back from the station and trudged back to his now solo office; knowing you'd be whisked away into the toils of the vast infinite universe, him doing nothing to stop it.

masterlist

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #hsr fanfic #hsr angst #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader angst #writing ᝰ.ᐟ

[novlr]

Hello. Not sure if this was asked yet, but do you have any advice on how to write enemies to friends, then friends to lovers, considering there was romantic tension between them before when they were enemies? Thank you very much in advance!

The enemies to lovers trope is a beloved narrative device, especially in the romance genre. As a creative writer looking to explore this trope, there are key elements and techniques to consider in order to craft a believable and engaging story. Here’s how you can turn animosity into affection and keep your readers hooked.

Understanding the trope

Before diving into writing, it’s important to understand what makes the ‘enemies to lovers’ trope so interesting. It’s a classic plot device where two characters start with a contentious relationship and, through various plot developments, end up falling in love. This trope thrives on tension and the gradual breakdown of barriers, creating a rollercoaster of emotions for both the characters and the readers.

What are the key components?

Conflict: The bedrock of this trope is the initial conflict between the characters. It can be rooted in a misunderstanding, ideological differences, or a rivalry.

Chemistry: Despite the conflict, there needs to be an underlying chemistry that hints at the potential for romance.

Character development: The evolution of the characters’ relationship must be believable. Their growth, both individually and together, is crucial to the plot.

Pacing: The shift from enemies to lovers should be gradual and well-paced, avoiding any rush that could undermine the build-up of their relationship.

Build authentic tension

When writing ‘enemies to lovers,’ the tension must feel authentic. Readers can easily spot forced conflict or chemistry, so it’s vital to create situations and dialogues that naturally showcase the friction between your characters.

Create obstacles: Design situations that challenge the characters and force them to interact in high-stakes scenarios.

Dialogue: Use snappy, charged dialogue to convey their conflict while also revealing their begrudging respect or fascination for each other.

Inner conflict: Develop the characters’ inner conflicts to add depth to their external quarrels and eventual reconciliation.

Have a strong turning point

The transition from enemies to lovers should feel earned. It often involves a pivotal moment where the characters’ perspectives shift, allowing them to see each other in a new light, becoming friends

Shared experiences: Design scenarios where the characters have to rely on each other, creating a sense of camaraderie.

Vulnerability: Allow the characters to show vulnerability to each other, which can be a powerful catalyst for changing emotions.

Moments of understanding: highlight moments of empathy and insight into each other’s motivations and vulnerabilities.

Foster the romance

Once the groundwork for the characters’ relationship shift has been set, you can focus on fostering the romantic connection.

Mutual respect: As the characters overcome obstacles, their respect for one another should grow, forming the basis for their romantic feelings.

Intimacy: Create instances where the characters share intimate moments or thoughts, further deepening their bond.

New Conflicts: Introduce new conflicts that can only be solved together, cementing their status as a team.

The payoff

The ultimate goal in the ‘enemies to lovers’ trope is to deliver a satisfying payoff that feels both surprising and inevitable. Here are ways to ensure the romance culminates in a fulfilling resolution:

Growth and sacrifice: Show how the characters have grown since the beginning of the story and the sacrifices they are willing to make for each other.

Full circle: Bring their relationship full circle by referencing elements of their initial conflict, now resolved through love and understanding.

Public acknowledgment: Include a scene where the characters acknowledge their feelings for each other in a significant way, often in public or in front of previously opposing forces.

#enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #writing tips #writing advice #writers #creative writing #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #creative writers #writing inspiration #writeblr #writerblr #writblr #writers corner #tips for writers #writing quick tips #genre tropes #writing tropes #let's write #writer #writing resources #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writing asks #writing romance #how to write #resources for writers #helping writers #help for writers

[http-tokki]

Happy birthday, pretty girl

~ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, time skip to when everyone is pro heroes, fluff, friends to lovers, deadbeat boyfriend, explicit language, katsuki outdoing ur stupid boyfriend, toxic relationships, y/n is written as honey (that's ur name cause I hate reading y/n) ~ wc: 2.8k

A bouquet.

A $350 bouquet had been the catalyst to the end of your relationship.

The break-up had not come out of the blue. Resentment had been building for months now with endless bickering and sniping, fights over Instagram likes and hidden accounts, your ex’s inability to hold down a stable job for longer than a month and when he was let go from his last job a few months ago, the lack of effort at finding a new job, which in turn left you to pick up the slack with the rent and bills. It hadn’t been like that in the beginning; no failed relationship ever is, but as the months rolled into years, what was once cute ineptitude at basic life skills morphed into weaponised incompetence that had you acting as mother and girlfriend for the twenty-something-year-old man child. If only you could go back in time and warn your former self of the absolute hell waiting for you at the end of the road. 

A different form of bitterness seeped into your relationship this past month. A monstrous animosity had taken up residence in the chests of both you and him, causing a fight like no other and all because you were inviting your childhood best friend to your upcoming birthday dinner. Your ex had spotted the name Bakugou Katsuki on the list of guests and scoffed, muttering displeasure under his breath. A few back-and-forth quips rolled into a screaming match that had ended when you laughed out your final killing blow. 

“You can either suck it up and come to my, your girlfriend’s, birthday dinner or sit at home and mope around. It’s your choice, but make up your mind before I book so I know if I’m paying for you or not.”

It had been a tad cruel of you to add the last part, but you were growing tired of having to cover his half of the bill at dinner and skip out on outings with friends because he didn’t want to look cheap and have you pay, so your insult was justified its own brutal way. 

You sent out the invitation texts the next day to your close friends and their partners. RSVPs flooded your inbox within half an hour. All, except for two who had work engagements overseas, eagerly agreed to the dinner with feverish excitement. All but one. The loser that was your boyfriend sent a thumbs-up reaction to your message in the group chat, which he the. promptly left. 

Katsuki, however, had called you the second he saw the short message. 

“I’ll be there; I just might be a bit late ’cause I’ve got that TV gig that afternoon.” He sighed into the phone, and you could practically see the scowl forming at the idea of being late to an event. “Actually, let me see if I can move it around.”

“‘Suki, no. Just come afterwards, please. Don’t move anything,” you pleaded, dropping the stack of papers you had organised a few minutes prior. “If you need to miss it, it’s okay.” you added lightly, disappointment evident in your voice despite your best efforts.

“Hey, I said I’d be there, didn’t it? I just might be late,” Bakugou assured you, tone stern to avoid further protests from you. “What’s the name of the booking under anyway?”

“Mine, why?” your brows furrowed in suspicion.

“Just wondering.” He replied with a tone far too casual for him.

Gasping at the sudden realisation, you shouted down the receiver. “Katsuki, if you even think about putting your card down as payment, you’re-“

“Ohh wow, would you look at that, call waiting! I’ll call you later; text me when you’re at work.”

--

Your boyfriend is the ninth person to arrive at dinner. After kicking him out for the evening before your reservation time, wanting to have time with the girls to relax and debrief the situation of your current partner. The girls were never fans, Mina going as far as to add him to her own personal hit list should he ever commit a minor law infraction, and his continued behaviour just added to their growing disdain. It didn’t help that you were growing to loathe him too. The loser arrived well beyond the appropriate amount of time to be late without an excuse or text and just strolled in without acknowledging the hostess, who smiled and offered to guide him to the table.

Ick. 

“Is he wearing-?” Mina whispers, sliding up next to you to stare at your underdressed boyfriend.

“Yep. He’s wearing track pants.” You confirm as you spot the familiar print across the left leg and the slouched cut of the sweat. 

“Is he for real?” Jiro’s voice comes for your left, looping her arm through yours. 

You frown at the lack of effort and complete disregard for the dress code, but that small part of you screams in vindication at his disinterest. He strolls to you with the confidence garnered only from the current lack of Bakugou and presses his cheek to yours in a polite kiss. He would have gone in for a side hug, but your two friends were unmoving from their positions. 

“You’re late.” You mutter, tone entirely indifferent. 

“Yeah, well, traffic” is the excuse given, and a poorly made bouquet is shoved at you before he walks away. Jiro reaches out and grabs the flowers with one hand, tossing them at the present table. 

The frown you have deepens. Blue chrysanthemums and white roses wrapped in what appears to be yesterday’s newspaper. No card or note, just flowers in colours you despise. He had to be doing this purposefully, giving you another reason to fight with him and pull the plug on this trainwreck. The three of you watch as he makes the rounds, and your frown grows into something that can only be labelled as repulsion. God, you need to end this. Everything about him is giving you the ick. Your mind wonders about the breakdown of your relationship and how to do it, how to get out of tonight a single woman and – Kirishima’s voice disrupts your daydreams.

Eijiro greets Bakugou first. Spotting the blonde as he steps into the restaurant, he calls out to his best friend with a loud Hey! You look up and see your best friend standing in the entryway to the restaurant, strong arms full of the most beautiful bouquet you have ever seen. Pink and purple hydrangeas spill over the lilac wrapping paper, adorned with baby’s breath and pastel tulips, stalks of greenery, and there was even a hint of jasmine bordering the main bulk of the blooms. Your heart squeezes. He had gotten all your favourites despite most of them being out of season and insanely hard to acquire. You hear shuffling from the far end of the table, but pay it no mind as Katsuki saunters towards you. He had followed the theme, dressed in a suit and tie with his hair combed down in a slicked-back style that accentuates the sharp lines that make up his face. The suit was snug but not small, fitting his muscles and broad shoulders just right in a way that made your stomach twist. Heat blooms across your face, and you squeeze the hand that is now in yours.

“Can you fuck him already, please?” Mina teases, squeezing your hand back.

“I’m working on it.” You whisper back as a joke despite the obvious heat filling your body.

The girls laugh beside you. “oh, she’s working on it,” Jiro echoes your confession, snickering as Mina makes a lewd gesture.

“She’s working on what?” Katsuki asks as he reaches the three of you. “Hi.” His greeting is solely to you.

“Hi.” You parrot, feeling the girls leave your side in exchange for Bakugou’s arms.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you right up against his toned body and squeezes. You’re lifted from the floor, hauled into the air and spun as soft laughs leave you, and for a moment, it is only the two of you.

You’re lowered back to the ground, arms still wrapped around each other as he whispers his congratulations. “Happy birthday, pretty girl.” A kiss is pressed to your cheek, and you feel lightheaded.

Cold air fills the space once occupied by him as he pulls back, reaching down to grab the bouquet he had placed on the table and shows you the arrangement.

“Pink and purple hydrangeas,” he announces just loud enough to be heard by your boyfriend sitting a few seats down. “And tickets to the flower festival next month. You can take him, but I’m also free that weekend, and I have a car…” his words trail off at the obvious jab at your car-less partner. “I also put my card down as payment, so go wild, okay?”

“‘Suki.” you reprimand in a breathy giggle, having already been through this with him via text, but you can’t help but swoon at his chivalry.

“It’s your birthday, angel. I can’t have you paying for it.” You blush again at the pet name but frown up at him nonetheless.

Bakugou smiles back and presses another kiss to the top of your head before pulling away to greet everyone else.

“I seriously thought you were about to kiss him just then.” Jiro snickers, reappearing at your side the second you’re alone.

“I seriously did, too.”

--

It is a small dinner. Only a handful of your close friends and their partners but all the people you know and care for, and they you, so when your cake is brought out, and the songs are sung, you feel loved, and that love is continued through dessert as the game Whispers from Heaven begins. 

Jiro and Mina gush about your undivided love and loyalty; Denki smiles and recalls your generosity and patience during the afternoon you had helped him through math homework (and he swore his eternal oath to you from that day on); Kiri tears up at the mention of his emo days and how you had been his friend even when he looked like a My Chemical Romance extra; Momo praising your loving and unjudgmental heart, Sero gifting you the title of World’s Best Mom despite having no actual children but the care and devotion you had shown to your friend group earned you many a mother’s day present and Bakugou toasting your entire being for you had been his friend since middle school and stuck by him through all the happened during UA and the subsequent years, how you had been a rock in his life and every year had been a blessing and he wished for many more to come. Zuku and Ochaco had written their whispers in via text (a mission had taken them away from your dinner ), and their words had been just as sweet.

You were tearing up as everyone gushed about you, wiping at your eyes before they could even fall, but as your boyfriend’s turn came, the air shifted.

“Uhh, she is….” He stammers, nervously looking around the table at your friends, all waiting for his answer.

In theory, he should have the best point. He is your boyfriend, after all, two years shared together, but as he sits there, floundering like a fish with his mouth opening and closing, you feel your patience start to snap. Maybe you were going to break it off tonight. The guilt of leaving him potentially homeless and broke had been keeping you around for months, and you think he knows that, and that’s why he hadn’t gotten a job or made any move to progress his life.

Are you about to be free and single again? Is he about to seal his fate of living out of his parent’s garage? Part of you hopes yes; is desperate to say goodbye to the soul and money-sucking leech that had been attached to you for months now, but part of you feels bad for him.

“Ohh! I’ve got it!” he announces, holding his glass of wine in the air in a toast.

You hold your breath, unaware of what his answer is going to be.

“She has a really good ass. So hot,” he laughs and tips his glass to the sky, “the back shots are fucking amazing.”

Your jaw slackens at this confession.

There is a chorus of gasps and snorts of astonishment as your group comes to terms with what has just been said. Jiro slaps her hand over her mouth as both Momo and Mina’s head whip towards her, eyes wide and brows raised. Denki blushes red but hides it behind his hands; Sero and Kiri are staring at Bakugou, who is glaring at your boyfriend.

“What?” Katsuki asks, tilting his head in confusion. 

Your boyfriend bristles. “I was put on the spot.”

There is a beat of silence as everyone comes to terms with what has just been said.

Bakugou shakes his head and gently returns the wine glass to the table, quiet rage simmering in his eyes. His gaze flicks to you in awaiting permission, and when you tilt your head approving of whatever it is he is about to do, he smiles and turns his fangs towards your boyfriend. 

“Get up.” the order is soft, as not to make a scene, but there is a promise of violence in his tone. 

Your boyfriend makes no move to stand, so Katsuki repeats his order. When there is still no movement from the slug sitting across from him, Bakugou stands with a grace only acquired after years of training to win fights and reclasps the buttons of his jacket, ever the gentleman. Each step towards your boyfriend is fuelled by hate and indignation, and when he finally reaches him, Katsuki grips him by the scruff of the neck, much like a father does to their young son.

“You need to get up and leave before I take you outside.” Katsuki seethes, bending down to your boyfriend’s level.

“You-no-I..” your boyfriend scrambles, face blanching at the pro-hero before him.

“Nuh uh, I don’t want to hear anything from you.” The hand on your boyfriend’s neck tightens. “Get up and go home, pack your shit and leave. I don’t care where you go, but by the time Honey and I get home, you will be gone because I can make people like you disappear in a second, yeah?” 

Your boyfriend looks around at the table, hoping to find sympathy from the other heroes, but none comes. “I’m going to tell everyone you’re threatening me; you can’t do this!” 

“I’m not doing anything, and everyone here has seen me ask you to leave nicely; I’m even offering to get you an Uber since I know you don’t drive.” 

A chorus of acknowledgement of Bakugou’s charity rises from the table. You bite down on your cheeks to stop the smile tugging at your lips as you watch your now ex-boyfriend scramble for his coat, dread dragging down each movement. He turns to you, brows furrowed in fear and confusion, hoping to find comfort in someone he had disrespected time and time again, but instead, you just beam and bid him goodbye.

“Are you really gonna call him an Uber?” Denki pipes up. 

Katsuki scoffs. “No, he can walk home.” 

--

“What are ya’ working on?” Katsuki asks from beside you as you sit on the curb outside your apartment building. 

You had pulled up ten minutes ago but opted to stay out and talk, enjoying the warm spring breeze.

“Huh?” you turn to face your best friend.

“When I turned up, you and the girls were talking about you workin’ on something. Is there something at work or?” 

You blush at the question. 

“Ahh, well, I’m-“you grin. “Well, I’m working on you.” Your confession falls from your mouth before your brain can process it. 

“Me?” Bakugou’s brows stitch together. 

“yeah, I’m working on not killing you for paying for dinner and shit like that.” You rush to lie in order to cover your confession. “You always do that after I-“ 

Katsuki’s hands grabbing your cheeks stop your rambling, and then his lips are on yours. He cups your face with a gentleness unknown to you, finger hooking under your jaw to tilt your chin up as he kisses you. You melt into his mouth, opening as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. Breathing becomes difficult as your hands grab at his waist, desperate to close the distance between your bodies, but he pulls back and leans his forehead against yours. 

“You’re such a bad liar, you know that?” his breathing is ragged. 

“I was hoping you didn’t catch on to that, but I’m so glad you did.” 

~ a/n: NOT PROOFREAD! goes a long with this. x ( just another lil drabble about how my ex was a piece of shit and for my birthday got me the flowers I hate. but then on valentine’s day my friend got me a bouquet of my favourite flowers so it couldn’t have been that hard, right)  updated version 2.0

#💐http tokki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki imagine #katsuki x reader #katsuki fluff #katsuki x you #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagines #bakugou fluff #bakugou fanfiction #aged up bakugou #bnha masterlist #bnha imagines #bnha drabble #mha drabble #mha fluff #mha bakugou #mha katsuki #one shot

[fanfic-obsessed]

Well Technically...

It is not often that I get an idea that includes Vader (with the genocide and horror that is implied) that makes me giggle.  This however made me giggle. 

So Vader returns to the light right before he dies and comes back as Anakin the Force ghost.  Now despite what it appears this is not a kindness.  Anakin spends decades following his kids and the galaxy at large watching how little his existence mattered (galactically Anakin Skywalker was barely more than a recognizable name, and even that was diminishing as the people who knew of the ‘hero without fear’ died off; Vader would be forgotten even more quickly because no one wanted to remember him) even as he saw the long term consequences of his life (Luke’s struggle with his own identity-both as a man and a Jedi-, Leia’s struggle with her ancestry-finding out that your blood father killed all your other available parents was not a good feeling, Reva healing from the trauma he directly caused, all the ways that Ahsoka had to reshape her own soul to patch the holes Anakin put there, the echoes of the clones that died at his hand and command and the horror of the ones that survived). He has to watch his grandson not only make his mistakes but somehow make them worse, which was something that he did not know was possible. We get all the way through the the sequels, with a heavy emphasis on Anakin watching how the consequences of his actions (particularly the slaughter of the Jedi but many of the the things he did both during the empire and during the war) while acknowledging that he is not even remembered enough to be cursed, how the galaxy has spun on, not just without him but in spite of him and he is not even a footnote. 

After Palpatine’s final, for now, death, Anakin is approached (for lack of a better term) by something shaped like Obi Wan Kenobi, circa the beginning of the clone wars. When this being speaks, it speaks with two voices at once, the Daughter and the Son. It asks if he could go back to before his Fall and change things, would he.

Anakin is sure he would, there are so many things he would do differently. 

The being says that it can send him back to just before his tipping point, where his Fall and all the evil he did became inevitable, but cannot send him back further than that.  Anakin agrees. Just before he sent back the being tells him that should his Fall become inevitable again, they would shred his mind and soul and it would be more excruciating than any pain he had ever experienced. 

Anakin, who had spent 20 years in agony, now had one(1) fear. 

Anakin “closed” his eyes in the Force, wondering when he would be sent back to (Killing Padme, Marching on the Temple, Believing Palpatine over Fives) only to open his eyes as his mother took her last breath. He was back on Tatooine, in the Tusken camp. 

Anakin was confused, this was the point of no return? He had not even thought about the Tusken camp in decades, had not truly considered them at all since Padme absolved him of their slaughter.

But this was also an Anakin that had spent decades in pain, and then decades observing. He was much more patient, by necessity if  not choice, less likely to act on violent impulse then the last time. Also the majority of his rage died in a cloud of lightning with the Emperor.  Instead of killing the Tuskens in a rage, he wept over his mother’s body in the grief he denied himself the first time. The reaction surprises the Tuskens so much (due both to the nature of Tatooine and the animosity between them and the moisture farmers they had not seen human tears of grief before) that they let Anakin take the body and leave. 

They still bury Shmi and go to rescue Obi Wan (though it does not end in a marriage this time). The War still starts but Anakin is also running around trying to fix things, including himself (and actually doing all the actual emotional work on figuring out and fixing his own issues), meditating (Frankly Obi Wan is starting to be concerned that anakin is possessed), trying to not kill anyone (because he really isn't sure what the tipping point about the Tuskens was and does not want to risk it), get the chips discovered in such a way that they do not tip off the Sith (He brings a few clones, including Fives to the temple to Spar and 'accidentally' hits Fives hard enough to knock him out and pracitcally forces Master Che do a deep enough scan), make a list of the people he killed to try and do something nice for them. At some point he decides his ‘penance’ for his life as Vader was that he would somehow bring all the currently known Sith back to the Light (including Palpatine).

In the Force, the Daughter is watching all this, her head in her hand repeating over and over ‘The point of no return was murdering children, you moron. All you have to do is not murder children’. And everything he is doing works towards that goal, but she doesn’t expect him to fix the universe (in my head it is a bit akin to asking someone to tell you an equation that use 2 and equals 4, expecting 2+2 or 2*2 but instead them confidently saying((2xSqRt(100))-40+36)/4)

The Son is watching this all with Force popcorn, this is the most entertaining thing to happen in ages. 

It is important to note that the Dark in this does not mean Evil. It means selfish, which is not the same thing.  You can be a selfish dick and still not be evil.  Mostly in this case it means that for those that inhabit the dark their priority is 1)Their own wants and needs; 2)The needs of the people they like, as long as it doesn’t inconvenience them; 3) The wants or needs of others if it benefits them in some way.  The Son was bored by what the Empire did to the Force, and he found having the Light there (and everything Anakin was doing) entertaining. 

I just keep picturing the Daughter, in the Force, exasperated with Anakin because, yes everything he is doing is good for him and the galaxy but his ONLY job is ‘don’t murder children’ and it never even occurs to Anakin that that was the only act he needed to avoid. 

#star wars the clone wars #anakin skywalker #fanfiction prompt #star wars au #sheev palpatine #darth vader #star wars #star wars sequals #the clone wars

[theres-a-body-here]

Would love a male reader being face fucked by the oni from dbd and then after he cums he pisses down the readers throat. You said nasty lol

The Oni x Male!reader

In the beginning, your relationship with The Oni was strained – to put it mildly.

To be blunt, you two were worse than Laurie and Michael.

Kazan would tunnel you during trials, making sure you were certainly dead before he could even fathom focusing on anything else.

And in return, you did everything in your power to deny him hooks. Flashlight saves, pallets, and plenty of For The People with Buckle Up.

However, as time went on, the dynamic shifted. What had once been hatred began to morph into something resembling rivalry, albeit still laced with animosity. Maybe it was because the both of you are stubborn, prideful, and anger-filled men who refused to give up easily.

Eventually, though neither of you could pinpoint exactly when or why, that simmering antagonism blossomed into an alluring attraction that neither party could ignore nor resist.

It wasn't uncommon for you to be seen sneaking off from the campfire to visit Kazan in his realm. At first it was just to tease him, but that evolved to sitting close to one another in silence.

Again, maybe it was because you two were so alike in temperament that the next jump was so large, because it rapidly switched from taking in each other's presence to full on casual sex. This is pretty impressive considering you can't speak Japanese and he can't speak English.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kazan stood above you, his towering figure casting a shadow upon you as you knelt on the old futon in his home. His erect blue member was right in your face as it twitched in anticipation.

Gently cupping your face in his hand, Kazan pressed the tip of his hardened member against your lips and traced them with it. You took a sniff smelling how hot and musky with sweat his cock was.

"さあ、小さな獲物よ...大きく開いてください。," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You felt your pants tighten at the sound of his voice, even though you didn't understand what he said. "I don't know what you said, but it's making me horny," you confessed, unable to resist pressing a tender kiss onto the slimy crown of his erection.

A low growl escaped from beneath Kazan's mask as he pushed the head of his penis between your eager lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips to allow him to slip inside, taking the first few inches into your warm mouth.

"いい子..." he cooed softly as he reached down to pat your head affectionately.

Slowly yet surely, Kazan began to slide deeper into your welcoming mouth, the girth of his shaft stretching your throat until you found yourself gagging and choking on its sheer size.

Still, you continued to take him in, determined to not look like an inexperienced virgin

"そうか、お気に入りのものですね。," he murmured approvingly, seemingly pleased by your efforts. He continued to stroke your head lovingly, encouraging you to take even more of his length.

Eventually, Kazan extracted his pulsing cock from your bruised throat, leaving you breathless and craving more.

As he gazed down at you with an intensity that bordered on ferocity, he spoke once again in a low, tender voice, "あなたの顔をファックしてもいいですか？"

Despite not knowing Japanese, there was no mistaking the questioning inflection in his voice.

You decide to take a leap of faith and nod your head. "Yeah....sure," you coughed out as you tried to guess what you agreed to.

Your bold response brought a hint of amusement to Kazan's eyes, hidden behind his Oni mask. Ruffling your hair fondly, he readied himself once more, aligning his rigid cock with your swollen lips.

In one smooth motion, Kazan plunged his monstrous cock deep into your open mouth, feeling it glide effortlessly down your now looser throat.

Before you had time to think about the nature of Kazan's request, he seized hold of either side of your head, effectively pinning you in place. Then, with an animalistic growl, he commenced to roughly thrust his hips forward, driving his cock deep into your helpless throat.

Each brutal thrust left you gasping for air, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled to keep pace with his unforgiving rhythm.

You wrapped your trembling fingers around Kazan's thick thighs, digging your nails into his skin.

The impact of his heavy balls against your chin grew increasingly violent. With each passing second, he sped up, turning your mouth into nothing more than a fleshlight.

Abruptly ceasing his relentless assault, Kazan held still, burying his cock deep inside your gasping throat. Silver pubes tickled your nostrils as you fought desperately for air. Through strained breaths, he whispered in a low tone ,"とても可愛い男の子 ."

Once more, Kazan resumed his violent pounding, forcing your head back so he could look directly into your glassy eyes. You felt his cock throb against your sore throat walls as it slid in and out of your mouth.

Rivulets of drool and precum trickled down your chin. Amused by your vacant expression, he let out a low chuckle.

Kazan tightened his grip on your skull, his fingers practically sinking into your flesh. Growling deep in his throat, he exclaimed, "すごく激しく射精するよ."

With a few final, powerful thrusts, Kazan drove himself deep inside your eager mouth, holding himself there as he began to release his load. Wave after wave of hot cum flooded your throat as his cock throbbed and twitched with every spurt

Determined to take every last drop, you swallowed as much cum as possible, but it proved too much for your struggling throat. Unable to contain it all, some of the excess semen leaked out of your nose, causing you to splutter and gag.

You manage to swallow most of it as Kazan pulls his cock out, becoming softer. You open your mouth, showing him. Kazan lets out an approving rumble from his chest as he holds your tongue between his pointer finger and thumb to inspect your mouth.

"良い子だよ。これはあなたのご褒美です," he says in a soft low voice.

Cupping your chin gently, he guided the tip of his now flaccid penis back into your mouth, then began to urinate.

Clamping your lips tightly around his member, you drank greedily as he continued to empty his bladder into your mouth. Every swallow sent warmth coursing down your esophagus.

As you drank, Kazan reached down to pat your head affectionately, taking pleasure in watching you consume every last drop of his urine.

Finally, he pulled out of your mouth before tucking his cock away. Sitting down behind you on the futon, he released a contented groan, his body relaxing from the recent exertion.

Pulling you closer, Kazan pressed his masked face against your exposed neck, inhaling deeply as he took in your scent. His calloused hands roamed across your distended stomach, feeling the contents of his seed and urine slosh beneath the surface.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #omorashi #piss kink #pee kink #pee drinking #facefucked #cumswallow #dbd #kazan yamaoka x reader #kazan yamaoka #kazan x reader #the oni x reader #the oni dbd #male!reader #male reader #rough kink #omo

[emblemxeno]

I really like how Corrin is an outsider in multiple senses, but especially in relating to his presence in the stories.

Corrin's abnormal. He's a sheltered prince despite the Nohrian siblings routinely going on missions. He fights with moves that aren't necessarily powerful like his older brothers and sisters, but they're so wild and unpredictable, that he's a very talented fighter in his own right. He's able to take a dragon form, but the initial reaction from Hans and the Hoshido siblings are that he's a freak from the former, and utter shock and surprise from the latter. He routinely gives others the benefit of the doubt, and has an infinite well of trust and kindness, provided you don't take advantage of it.

And his abnormality is important, because it challenges the norm of Fates' setting. Why is he kind to strangers, including enemies? Why does he see the good in everyone? Why is he averse to taking lives like his duty demands? Why doesn't he just learn how the world works?

Corrin challenges Ryoma's views on what being a leader is and what they should accomplish and challenges Xander's views on justice and to work against the unacceptable no matter how painful it is. He doesn't lay down and accept that animosity and hatred between Hoshido and Nohr is the way of things and won't ever change. He never falls into a neat box of black or white.

Corrin challenges the status quo of the Fates world by being himself, and having the resilience to keep being himself no matter what threatens him. He falters when he begins believing the doubts and poisoned words of his enemies, and flourishes when his loved ones support his personhood and character to the fullest. He gets proven right at the end of all three routes, that you don't have to just embody what Nohr and Hoshido or even your family wants from you; just remain authentically yourself and refuse to back down, and others will start to respect your resolve and put their faith and trust in your actions.

I just think that's dope!

#fire emblem fates #fire emblem #corrin fire emblem #changing the world by just staying true to your vibes #and making everyone realize/think about how utterly foolish this forever war is

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

I ain’t missing you at all  (requires an ao3 account) by @blitheringmcgonagall

Set post first wizarding war. "Lily Evans disappeared just when the war with Voldemort ended. Nobody knows why she left. James Potter doesn't care. He hasn't missed her at all."

It reads like a character study. All of the repressed emotions are so well-portrayed that I could picture all their facial expressions and body language. The dynamic between Lily and the marauders really illustrated how she wasn't just James' girlfriend - she was their friend too. I just wanted to give them all a hug.

Up In Arms by @mppmaraudergirl

When Lily jokingly tells her owl to deliver a letter to "the love of her life", i.e. Marlene McKinnon, her owl misinterprets the directive and, to her horror, her ode to James Potter’s arms lands squarely in his lap.

The banter in this one is so good that it made my friend fall back in love with jily's dynamic and read fics again

Evergreen and Pine by @tinyluminaryzombie

Lily Evans is stuck in a closet with Sirius. All Sirius wants to talk about is exactly what she's trying not to think about: James Potter.

Or: A seven minutes in heaven that's more like seven minutes of sweet sweet interegation ft. Lily and Sirius.

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by @jfleamont

Lily's an overthinker, but fear not, James knows exactly what to say to cheer her up.

Because Lily being a stress smoker is canon (to me)

All The Things I Would Do also by @/ jfleamont

Lily can't stop thinking about James' hands.

Anything Leda writes is great so do yourself a favour and go read her works

I’ve Got My Hate to Keep Me Warm by @dizzy–bird

When a mission for the Order goes badly wrong, Lily Evans must spend the holidays lying low in the middle of nowhere. The rules: no magic, no visitors, and absolutely no Christmas cheer.

And the kicker? She’s sharing the safe house with Order darling – and rival – James Potter, who just happens to be the reason she’s in this mess in the first place.

Kat's poem from 10 Things I Hate About You

Hemispheres by @ohmygodshesinsane

James Potter and Lily Evans have set aside their schoolyard animosities for the sake of the Order of the Phoenix, but when they are enlisted to race Lord Voldemort across the world to prevent him from corrupting the very nature of death, tensions run high. In all manners.

Lily's characterisation in this one is so good

No One Knows Us by @annasghosts

As Fifth Year begins, Lily Evans is certain of a few things: she’s proud to be a Muggle-born witch, despite what Petunia might think; Severus Snape is still a loyal friend and whatever confusing feelings she has as she watches James Potter strut around the castle must be squashed because he’s nothing, but an arrogant toerag.

In which Lily gets the dynamic character treatment that she deserves.

51 Minutes to Change Your Mind by @sosohh

When Muggle-Born Oliver Wood becomes an extremely successful cyclist for the British Cycling team, both muggle and magical ministries have to come up with a plan to make sure all is fair. Enter James Potter and Lily Evans.

The Art of Self-Defense by cgner (on ao3)

Gilmore Girls AU in which "after seventeen years of single parenting, she now has to manage a persistent James, nosy villagers, and a son who's all too interested in joining the Order."

#for everyone tired of lily getting sidelined #this one is for you #jily #jily fic rec #jple #lily evans #james potter

[tongue-like-a-razor]

There Are Rules

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

Summary: Your risky flying seriously pisses off your instructor at Top Gun and you're about to find out why.

CW: age gap (20-25 years), angsty angst - you've been warned <3

WC: 1600+

“What were you thinking?” Maverick roars, storming into the women’s locker room. “Are you insane?”

“What the hell are you doing in here?” you yell in outrage. Thankfully, the room is empty and you’ve already changed.

“You could have died!” he shouts, slamming the side of his fist into a locker on his way toward you.

“I’m fine!” you protest. “Pilots make controlled landings with one engine all the damn time.”

“You were not in control!” His voice echoes around the room.

“I landed, didn’t I?”

Maverick stops before he’s reached you, bringing a fist to his face as if he’s trying to temper his rage. He lowers his gaze, shaking his head while trying to breathe through the episode. His jaw is clenched tightly as he glances up at you from underneath his furrowed eyebrows.

You hadn’t set out to anger him but, if you were being honest, his reaction doesn’t altogether upset you. You’ve had a crush on your instructor since he walked into the hangar on your first day at Top Gun, but he’s displayed no romantic interest in you whatsoever. In fact, his interactions with you have all been strictly professional and have always occurred in public.

The fact that he is so distraught over your risky landing that he’s burst into the women’s locker room to reprimand you shows that he has reasonably strong feelings about whether you live or die. Which you appreciate.

Maverick breathes out slowly. “You put yourself and your crew in jeopardy,” he says hoarsely. “I can’t have that happen on my watch,” he adds, his jaw shifting as he tries to keep it steady.

“Captain Mitchell, I’m telling you, I had full control” –

“You disobeyed a direct order!” His voice begins to rise again as he steps closer to you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “With all due respect, sir,” you say, “it was the wrong one.”

“That’s not for you to decide!” he shouts. “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”

“I didn’t want to lose the plane –” you start, but he interrupts you.

“Don’t lie to me,” he hisses.

You sigh. “Fine, sir. I didn’t want to punch out and be grounded for the next six months doing rehab.”

“No, you’d rather leave here in a body bag,” he says with contempt.

You look down, affected by the hostility in his tone. “It won’t happen again,” you respond quietly.

“You’re damn right it won’t,” he says aggressively, taking another step toward you.

You bite your lip, glancing up at him guiltily. You’re surprised to see the tears in his eyes that he’s desperately trying to blink away. “Please don’t kick me out,” you whisper.

He presses his lips together into a thin line and gives his head a slight shake. “I should,” he says, running a hand over his mouth. “But you’re my best pilot.”

You take a shallow breath, feeling the tension in the room as if it were a physical thing. “Thank you,” you mutter, not sure if you’re thanking him for calling you his best pilot or for not stripping you of your wings.

Maverick tears his gaze away from you and you take the opportunity to study him. He’s still in his flight suit which means he came straight here after landing his own jet. His stern expression has softened a touch, although his jaw is still set, and his light eyes seem to be searching for something to look at other than you.

You try in vain to ignore how sexy he looks despite the animosity twisting his features. You’ve wanted him for so long that it almost hurts to look at him. He’s nearly twice your age, and yet, somehow, that only makes him hotter. The fact that he takes his position of authority so seriously that his gaze has never lingered on you for longer than a second, despite your not-so-subtle flirting at the Hard Deck several nights this week, makes him practically irresistible – you haven’t met many men in your life who’ve been immune to your charms. You’ve fantasized about him enough that this entire scenario feels like just another one of your daydreams, except it’ll likely end much sooner than you’d like.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Maverick says quietly, his voice breaking over the last few words. He closes his eyes for a moment.

He glances back at you and your heart starts racing when your eyes meet. He watches you steadily and you feel as though you might melt under the intensity of his gaze. This is the longest he’s ever maintained eye contact, but you’ll be damned if you look away first. You lick your lips, biting into them nervously, and Maverick’s gaze flits down to witness the action.

Your breath catches when his eyes linger on your mouth. The way he tilts his head before glancing back into your eyes makes your head spin. You want him to step closer, but he obstinately keeps his distance, despite the aching look in his eye.

You decide to throw caution to the wind, peeling your back away from the cold steel of the locker behind you. You take a step forward, lifting your eyes to meet his once more.

His breathing quickens, but he still watches you without looking away – something he’s never allowed himself to do before. “Y/N,” he cautions, furrowing his eyebrows.

You take the desperation in his voice as a sign that he is conflicted, so you draw nearer.

“Y/N,” he repeats, this time in a whisper. You’ve gotten so close that you can feel his breath warm your cheek, but Maverick isn’t stepping away.

You swallow, stretching out your neck to bring your lips closer to his. You feel the violent flurry of butterflies as they descend upon your insides like a swarm of furious locusts. “Captain Mitchell,” you manage to utter.

“Y/N,” he says more forcefully. You feel his hands close around your arms, his grip tightening as he takes a step away from you. “We can’t,” he breathes, holding you at arm’s length.

You stare at him as his façade falls apart. The longing he’s tried so hard to suppress is written all over his face. You understand his reservations but, ultimately, you just want him too much. And now that you know he wants you too, no quantity of moral misgivings is going to stop you. You take a breath and then a defiant step forward. His outstretched arms yield easily as you advance and you can tell that his self-control is hanging by a thread. You lift your face to look at him.

Maverick’s hands slide up your arms, his chest rising and falling at a quickening pace. You feel his fingers skim over your shoulders and glide up your neck until he’s holding your face in his hands. He closes his eyes, letting his forehead meet yours as his ragged breaths warm the space between your lips and his.

Your eyes are half-closed, watching his lips part slowly. But the moment his mouth brushes over yours, your eyes flutter closed and you sink into him instinctively. The force of the kiss is dizzying. Maverick moves forward, absorbing you as the two of you slam into the lockers in behind with impossible force. The impact rattles the metal and the clatter reverberates around the empty room.

His tongue curves into your open mouth as you let out a small gasp, while his hand grips your hip, pressing you into the locker. His mouth moves over yours hungrily, as though kissing you is hardly enough, although the soft touch of his fingers as they glide down the side of your neck is the perfect counterpart to his aggressive kissing style.

But just as his hand begins to slip under your shirt, Maverick pulls away. He turns his back to you, holding a hand to his mouth as he breathes heavily into the silence.

“Maverick” – you start, but he holds up a hand, turning to look at you with a grim expression.

“I have to go,” he says so quietly that his voice cracks.

You stare at him in alarm even as he doesn’t move from the spot.

Maverick closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face. “I am twice your age, Y/N,” he says.

You swallow anxiously. “So?”

He scoffs, meeting your gaze. “I am your instructor. There are rules.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “Since when does Pete Mitchell care about the rules?”

“I care about this one.”

You hold his gaze as he watches you, his teeth grazing his bottom lip, his breathing still uneven from his momentary lapse in self-regulation. “What do you care about more?” you ask quietly.

He flinches slightly as if your words have stung him. “I think you know,” he responds in a whisper, trying to break eye contact but, even as his head turns away, his gaze remains fixed on you.

Your heart is close to leaping right out of your body, but still, you shake your head.

He lets out an unsteady sigh, setting his jaw as he watches you wistfully. “If I don’t walk out right now,” he says, “I won’t be able to walk out at all.”

You feel the whirlwind intensify inside of you. “Then don’t.”

He chuckles, glancing back at you and, for a moment, you think that he might close the gap between the two of you in half a second, but he does no such thing. Instead, he says, “I am leaving because I care about you.” He gives you one last, heartbreaking look. “And you deserve better than this.”

Read Part 2

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[lavendercharm]

Linger, Chapter 2: Evil Woman

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

----

For as irate as she’d made you, you knew you owed credit where credit was due: Melissa was a phenomenal teacher. 

You’d watched her teach math after settling into your desk, masking her disdain toward you effortlessly as she started her lesson. Her passion and love for her work was undeniable. Even more, her kids seemed to adore her. Everyone has those teachers who stay with them as they grow up, and you had no doubt Melissa would be that teacher for quite a few of her kids. Sure, they were silly, rambunctious, and easily distracted, as are most eight and nine year olds. But there was a strong undercurrent of respect for their teacher. The fact that she managed all of this while teaching two grades was immensely impressive. 

You didn’t care if it was petty: the fact that she was just that good made you all the more irritated. 

You watched her with contempt and tried to ignore the budding admiration that was almost imperceptible beneath it all. ‘She’s had plenty of years to practice,’ you think to yourself grumpily, but despite your best efforts, you couldn’t put any real malice behind the words. You didn’t really care about how old she was. You were simply stewing in your feelings, the knowledge that she was apparently touchy about her age the only ammunition you had at the moment. Seeing as you couldn’t find much of anything to criticize when it came to her teaching abilities, you were grasping at straws. 

After her last biting comment, you managed to make it through the rest of the morning mostly unscathed. A few sharp glances had been thrown in your direction as you made your way around the room assisting the kids who asked for help, but you’d resolved to ignore them. You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her dirty looks.

The morning flew by in a flurry of math, reading, and science. You’d started to learn a bit about the kids in your temporary class. There was Jameela, a third grader who’s favorite color was yellow and who had a new kitten at home named Butterscotch; Kaden, a third grader who loved Minecraft and hated jelly beans; Antonia, a second grader who’d corrected you that she went by ‘Toni’ and who’d beamed when you told her she hadn’t made a single mistake on her math sheet; and Lawrence, a third grader who was terribly shy, yet wonderfully intuitive. You’d given him a giant grin as you helped him sound out a word he didn’t know. 

You could feel your sour mood gradually beginning to lift as you’d made your way through the room. Helping students reminded you why you were here. After the events of this morning, the only thing you really wanted to do was keep your head down, do your work, and make it through the end of the day without having another… disagreement with Melissa Schemmenti.

Turns out you wouldn’t make it to lunch. 

A few minutes before 12:30, Melissa gruffly mutters to you in passing that she has lunch duty today. Glancing at the schedule she’d petulantly tossed on your desk earlier, you saw her class had Art and Recess after lunch. As you open your mouth to ask if Melissa wants you to take the kids, she abruptly cuts you off, holding up a hand to silence you. Narrowing her eyes, she bitingly snaps, “I got it. I wanna make sure they get there on time."

The anger that had started to simmer down boils over, becoming white-hot, the suffocating feeling welling up inside of your chest. You’d hoped to move on from this morning, but it was becoming quickly apparent that Melissa Schemmenti knew how to hold a grudge. You clench your jaw, aiming for a low blow you knew would land. "Don't break a hip on the way there," you quietly sneer. You weren't proud of it, but you were pissed and giving into the urge to lash out.

There was an intense flash of animosity in her eyes. You know she heard you, and you're sure you'd be dead on the spot if it weren't for the kids in the room with you. The look in her eyes could peel the skin off of you. "What was that?" she practically growls, her tone low to avoid drawing attention to you both. 

You didn't think she’d go so far as to physically fight you in front of her students, but you noticed her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides, and suddenly you weren't so sure. You'd been in exactly one fight in your life, and you weren't all that convinced that punching a boy in the nose for making fun of you when you were eight even counted. A darker part of you wanted to see how far you could push the woman, but the last thing you needed was to lose your job by continuing to provoke a full-time faculty member.  

Instead of playing into the desire to take things further, you use the only protection you can think of: drawing the attention of the students. Raising your voice slightly above your normal speaking volume, you retort, "I said 'Suit yourself, Miss Schemmenti!’ What do you think I said?" Being unable to resist one final jab, you force a genial tone and add, "Maybe you should get your hearing checked!" 

A couple of students giggle, and you see a muscle in Melissa’s jaw jump out as she clenches her teeth together. She’s practically bursting at the seams to pounce on you and rip your head off. Her nostrils flair with the effort of holding herself together. You find yourself suddenly struck once more by how beautiful she is. There’s a dusting of color high on her cheeks and her eyes are alight with intensity. Her full lips are fighting the urge to pull apart and bare her teeth in a snarl. She was gorgeous. 

You couldn’t fucking stand it. 

She manages to bite out a very forced, “Of course. How silly of me.” She pries herself away from you and stiffly asks the class to stop what they’re doing to line up for lunch. She doesn’t look at you again, but an aura of hostility still hangs in the air around her. You get the impression you’re only safe for the time being.

A few minutes later, you’re alone in the classroom. You feel the weight of the confrontation starting to dissipate and you collapse back into your seat. Dropping your head into your hands, you berate yourself for your childish and unprofessional behavior. You’d never been so quick to anger as you were with Melissa Schemmenti. Replaying the events of the morning, you try to figure out why you both ended up at each other's throats so quickly. You start to think perhaps you’d been too sensitive about Melissa’s japes, but you stop yourself. You had been late, but it was an accident. She’d never met you before and it had felt totally uncalled for. Couldn’t she be bothered to give you the benefit of the doubt?

Her comments about the way you looked just added insult to injury. You realize in her mind she may have just been making a joke, but it had made you feel belittled, as if she didn’t respect your position as her equal. Just because you had less experience than her didn’t mean you should be treated like you were below her. You scowled to yourself, thinking about how she’d reacted when you fired back asking her how old she was. She could dish it, but apparently couldn’t take it.

This day had felt impossibly long, and it wasn’t even 1 PM yet. 

Glancing around the room, you absorb the state it was in. Trying to wrangle nearly thirty kids into a semblance of an orderly line to get to lunch on time meant school supplies were scattered haphazardly across desks and the floor. You didn’t have your lunch today, and though you considered leaving to buy something down the street, you really shouldn’t spend the money.

After a moment’s thought, you stand from your desk and begin tidying up the room. You collect colored pencils, paper scraps, and glue sticks, reuniting them with their caps in the process. If you weren’t going to eat lunch, you might as well keep yourself busy to make time pass a bit faster. And maybe coming back to a cleaner room would improve Melissa’s mood a bit, so you could both leave at the end of the day without having drawn blood. 

You toss the paper scraps into the recycling bin near the door and investigate the various drawers and cabinets to find the proper homes for everything you’d gathered. It’s not long before you discover the colored pencil bin in a cabinet, and frown when you notice the disorganization inside. A teacher as experienced as Melissa didn’t strike you as someone who couldn’t stay on top of her stuff - at least under normal circumstances. With two grades crammed into one room though, it made sense things would get away from her. Did her current aide even do anything?

You start removing things, finding items in the wrong bins as well as many unusable and ruined materials. Huffing to yourself, you manage to empty one container and designate it “The Graveyard”. Soon you’ve amassed a sizable pile of broken or unusable supplies. Deciding to organize the crayons and pencils by color group while you’re here, you’re suddenly interrupted by a quick knock on the doorframe and a voice speaking before you can even turn around.

“Hey Melissa, can I take a peek at your lesson for- oh?” 

You find yourself in the presence of a very small black woman with wide eyes and short curly hair. Her outfit is colorful - ‘Oh lord, the pattern on her skirt. Was her skirt literally made from a quilt?’  The surprise on her face is quickly replaced by the friendliest smile you’d seen today, which was really no competition. Regardless, it fills you with warmth. You silently ask the universe to please let you make one new friend today.

It seems you’ve earned a break. “Sorry, I thought Melissa would be in here, since she’s not in the lounge! She must have lunch duty. I wanted to look at her lesson plans for Social Studies to make sure my class isn’t falling behind. Or getting too far ahead. Probably that second one, my class loves social studies. I’m Miss Teagues- er, Janine!” You don’t even care about her info dump. You’re so relieved to have a normal, friendly introduction that you’d let her talk about almost anything. Janine was the first adult today who hadn’t either lied to your face, or seemed ready and more-than-willing to break it. 

You return the woman’s smile, greeting her and giving her your name. “I’m subbing for the aide while she’s out sick, so it looks like I’ll be around for the next few days,” you tell her. Speaking it out loud, you feel a bit demoralized. ‘If I even live that long.’ 

Janine beams at you. “Well, welcome to Abbott! It’s the best, I love it here. I bet you will too!” You expect her to leave, but an awkward silence follows in which Janine simply looks at you. After what feels like just a little too long, she pipes up.“I love reorganizing! And believe me, I totally get it when you’re in ‘the flow’,” she emphasizes with very cheesy air quotes, “but aren’t you going to eat lunch?”

“Oh, actually I’m okay-” you begin to reassure Janine, but the gurgling of your stomach rudely interrupts you and blows your cover.

You stand in another awkward silence for a moment, before Janine throws you a finger gun and cracks, “Sounds like someone’s hungry. Why don’t you stop for now and come join us in the teacher’s lounge? You can meet Jacob and Gregory!” You’re touched by the enthusiastic offer.

“That sounds really lovely Janine… but I woke up late this morning and left my lunch at home. At this point, I don’t really have time to run out. I’ll be okay, I promise,” you reassure the shorter woman. But you can tell by the look in her eyes she won’t accept your answer.

“At least let me bring you some of my lunch! You need to eat something today!” Before you can protest, Janine is out the door and down the hall. Her insistence on looking after you makes you slightly uncomfortable, seeing as you’d only just met three minutes ago, but you allow yourself to accept her kindness. It was the first overt act of compassion you’d received today, and you had a feeling that once Janine Teagues made up her mind about something, she did not give up easily.

When she returns, she’s holding a paper plate with the most incredible looking lasagna you’ve ever seen. It’s steaming, and as the scent reaches you, your mouth waters. She hands it to you with a grin and says, “Go ahead and dig in! This is the best lasagna ever.”

You take the plate and thank Janine profusely. You feel like you could cry from the kindness she’s shown you in light of how awful the day’s been. You pick up the plastic fork, and take a bite. Immediately your taste buds are flooded with flavor, the melted cheese and perfectly spiced tomato sauce actually bringing tears to your eyes. You didn’t realize until just now how hungry you really are, and you don’t even fully swallow your first bite before taking a second. Janine’s watching you intently, a smile plastered on her face as she witnesses the spiritual journey her lasagna is taking you on. 

After you swallow your third bite, you look at Janine and declare, “This… this might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted. You’re an incredible cook Janine.”

Immediately Janine looks sheepish, her smile unwavering as her eyes dart away from you. “Oh, thank you! But I didn’t make it. I had a bit of a rough week last week. I was in the lounge this morning, doing my prep, you know? And all of a sudden, a tupperware full of lasagna’s sitting in front of me. She didn’t say anything, but I know it was Melissa’s way of taking care of me.”

You come to a screeching halt mid-chew. The name unpleasantly rings in your ears like tinnitus after a loud concert. Through a mouthful of food, you utter, “Melissa?”

Janine’s eyebrows come together in confusion. As if it’s the most obvious fact in the world, she replies, “Yeah, Melissa. She’s the incredible cook.” 

Your appetite evaporates. The lasagna may as well have turned to ash in your mouth. You have to force it down, not wanting to spit it out into the trash in front of Janine. Despite the heavenly taste, this new knowledge makes it feel like your body’s trying to reject the food. You look down at the remaining lasagna on your plate and your stomach churns. After a final gulp, you turn away from Janine and grimace, abandoning the remainder of her lunch on your desk. You muster a weak, “Wow, that’s… wow!” 

‘Is there anything this damn woman can’t do!?” you think, your mood reaching its depths of the day. You take a moment to compose yourself before turning back around to Janine and shooting her a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you Janine. I should finish up what I started before the class gets back!” Janine assures you she’s happy to have helped, and after dallying a moment longer, she departs the room.

Your hands fly to your face, running down it in exasperation. You just couldn’t escape Melissa Schemmenti. Still, a niggling thought sticks in the back of your mind. It appears the woman was capable of being civil, and even showing acts of kindness. Although indirectly, it was because of her that you'd been able to eat today. You're sure she'd be furious about that.

You resolve yourself to try and patch things up with her. Taking stock of the progress you've made in organizing and decluttering her room, you think you might have a good start to doing just that.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #this chapter's song is evil woman by canned heat #idk it's just kinda funky and i like the sound #Spotify

[osferth]

strong words

for anon; enjoy! <3

pairing : aemond targaryen x reader

word count : 2.4k

Despite officially being the children of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, the ‘true’ paternity of yourself and your three younger brothers - Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey - remained a popular subject of debate. Many believed that Harwin Strong fathered all four of you, owing to your distinct lack of valyrian features compared to either side of your family.

No matter the truth, you all carried your Targaryen heritage and the Velaryon name with pride.

The animosity between your brothers and the second son of the king, Prince Aemond Targaryen, had existed since you were children. In spite of this, you had not once found yourself the target of his resentment and disdain. At first, you and your brothers had assumed this was because you were merely a girl that posed little threat to the claims of Queen Alicent’s sons - but while that was almost certainly the case to begin with, you soon found that there was more to it than simply just your gender.

Until your father Laenor’s funeral, the quarrelling between them remained just that - quarrelling. You were all encouraged to spend time together, which helped you, Aemond, and Helaena grow close - but unfortunately had the adverse effect where he and the other boys, your brothers included, were concerned.

You could still recall the incident after Laenor’s funeral like it was yesterday, although it wasn’t something you liked to dwell on.

In the midst of grieving the loss of your father, you had discovered Aemond and your brothers fighting each other once again, having been alerted by their curse-laden shouts. Angered at the very sight, you made to walk over at once and yell at all of them when Aemond suddenly let out a terrible scream.

Luke had slashed his eye with a knife, and whatever you had been planning to say immediately died in your throat. You screamed for someone, anyone to get help whilst Aemond lay crying out in your lap. You tried not to look at his face or the blood staining your dress as you assured him that everything would be alright, all the while reminding yourself that Luke was only five and to be lenient with him, your little brother.

Your heart ached as you silently watched his mother and yours scream at the King and each other, calling for the sons of both to be soundly punished, and you held little Joff closer to you.

A momentary bolt of anger shot through you as you learned of Aemond’s mockery of your brothers, his use of the name Strong against them as provocation after they threatened to tell someone that he’d claimed Vhagar. Having assumed the two of you were friends, it stung - it surely meant he viewed you as a mere bastard, too.

But then your eyes met the one he had left from opposite ends of the room, and although his gaze was dulled by milk of the poppy for the pain, it was melancholy, and he held yours for as long as he could. Your heart could not bring yourself to hate him, not in this state, no matter how hard you tried.

Partly out of guilt and partly out of genuine concern for the wellbeing of your friend, you visited him often as he recovered - taking care to avoid Aegon and Queen Alicent… although the latter did not seem to hate you nearly as much as she did Jace, Luke, and Joff.

These constant visits only brought the two of you closer. To your brothers and the rest of your family, you passed them off as a mere show of compassion and goodwill - and fortunately for you, they believed this.

Even after he recovered and took to wearing an eyepatch to cover the wound, you continued to spend time together, but this time in secret. You no longer had an excuse, after all.

He soon apologised to you for the use of the word Strong - although he had already publicly done it once, this felt much more genuine and sincere and you forgave him, granted that he never used it again.

And to your knowledge, he never did.

Of course, relations between himself and your brothers did not improve - they had almost definitely worsened, in fact, but you had never expected them to improve anyway. However, they kept their snide jabs and remarks against each other to a minimum while you were within earshot, for your sake.

He was always very sweet to you, which did not change as the two of you grew older. You had been aware of his feelings for some time, but waited until he finally admitted them one night when you were both four-and-ten to reveal this.

Ever since, the two of you had kept up a steady relationship in total secrecy. The threat of discovery made it both terrifying and exhilarating, and you loved every second of the time you spent together.

~~

The displays of affection and amity at this feast that King Viserys had thrown satisfied only him. You observed him watching your mother and his queen exchange pleasantries with a large smile on his face, and shared a wry look with Aemond across the table.

This was something you both loved and hated about being with him in secret - the thrill of sharing gazes and smiles and the occasional brushing of hands in public was unmatched, but a part of you constantly wished you could do so freely.

Although you were well aware that almost everything spoken at this table was a farce, you could not blame the king for getting lost in it all. It was much nicer to pretend, just for one evening, that this was a functional family where everyone got along, after all. Aemond complimented your beauty with a polite smile, and while you sensed your brothers bristling slightly at this, you returned his smile with the knowledge that his words were truly genuine.

Of course, since the king’s health had worsened, he soon retired early from the table. Almost at once, the conversation began to devolve into belligerence, and you chuckled into your cup of wine. It was nice while it lasted, you thought.

Aemond suddenly rose to his feet, cup in hand, and the table fell quiet. It was unusual for him to make a toast, you thought, but you had the feeling that this was not going to be a particularly sincere one.

Your anticipatory grin faded as his gaze fell upon your brothers, and his cup raised.

“I have never known anyone so strong as my sweet nephews,” he smirked. “So let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

The room remained uncomfortably quiet as you stared in disbelief at the man you so foolishly thought cared for you. Your vision of him blurred with tears and you abruptly stood up, ignoring the noisy scraping of your seat. Without a word to anyone you stormed out, blood boiling with anger as your heart broke.

If you had turned back to look, you would have seen the arrogant smirk on his face quickly fall away, replaced with uncomfortable realisation.

The minute you stood up, he realised the gravity of what he had done, but he could not simply follow you out just yet. To keep up appearances he smirked again, but it was half-hearted.

Afterwards he hardly paid attention to anyone, only seeking a way out of the room as fast as he could. Jacaerys soon asked Helaena for a dance, and Aemond stood up at once under the guise of anger.

It had angered him, but that was beside the point.

Either way, it allowed for him to storm out too, Aegon’s furious shouts soon distracting from his exit.

Meanwhile, you walked through corridors and passageways with little intention of going anywhere except away from the feast. You furiously wiped your tears as you wrenched the ring he had gifted you on your sixteenth name day from your finger, about to hurl it away when your name was called from behind you.

“Y/N, wait!”

It was Aemond, breathless and seemingly earnest with worry.

“Leave me alone!” you snapped, cursing your voice for breaking.

Of course, he did not.

“Y/N, my l-”

“Don’t you dare,” you hissed. “I am nothing to you but a bastard, am I not?

“No, you-”

But you refused to hear a word of it.

“You said it yourself! My brothers are a couple of Strong boys, yes? I imagine that makes me a very Strong girl-”

“Y/N, I had no intention of-”

“Implying our illegitimacy?” you finished. “No, I’m sure you did not.”

Having had enough, you turned on your heel to leave. Before you could, however, he blocked your path, and you quickly turned away from him.

“Please,” he sighed, taking your hand, “just give me a chance to explain.”

You rounded on him at once. “What is there to explain?” you yelled, wrenching your hand from his grip.

“Your brothers provoked me.”

An incredulous laugh escaped you. “Provoked you, did they? It does not matter if they got up and slapped you, you promised never to call us Strongs again! Or have you forgotten that?”

Aemond opened his mouth to protest this, but one look from you quickly silenced him.

“I should never have forgiven you the first time.”

This time, he let you go without a word.

~~

The following day, you hardly spoke to anyone. Your brothers saw this as a reaction to Aemond’s toast at the feast and sought to comfort you at once - and while they were right, they did not know the full truth. Nobody knew of your relationship with him, much less its failure, and so you were left feeling lonelier than ever.

Your mother visited your room in the evening, to comfort you as your brothers had and reassure you that Aemond’s words meant nothing. Though you appreciated the company, you wanted nothing more than to leave.

And so you crept out of the palace after your mother took her leave, finding your way back to your dragon. He lay near Vhagar, the sight hurting your heart even more. But you needed to escape, just for one night, and so you mounted him and flew from King’s Landing altogether - although you did not make the full trip back to Dragonstone.

Instead you stopped halfway, at the place you once used to meet Aemond. It was large enough to land your dragons on, and secluded enough that you wouldn’t be spotted. Whether flying there of all places was a good idea or not, you badly wanted to see it just one more time.

You were unsure of exactly how long you spent sitting in your usual spot, watching the stars in silence, but it had to have been hours. Just as you were convincing yourself to leave before it got too late, the familiar sound of beating wings stilled your movements.

It seemed Aemond had had the same urge as you, and the shock on both your faces as he came into view was almost palpable.

You were the first to break the uncomfortable silence.

“What are you doing here?”

Your question was soft, laden with hurt.

“I wish I had an answer for that,” he said. “I did not know you would be here.”

“I can tell,” you muttered, and he snorted in spite of himself. You turned away before he could see the brief smile on your face.

“May I sit?” he asked.

Unable to refuse him, you waved a hand, although your tone remained sullen. “You have flown all this way. Come.”

He walked over and sat beside you, keeping a respectable distance. Your heart continued to ache, but you kept your gaze firmly on the sky.

“I apologise,” he began, “for my words at the feast. You were right, Y/N. They were inexcusable no matter the circumstance, and… and I am ashamed that it took you to help me realise that.”

“How long did you rehearse that for?” you shot out. Almost immediately, you regretted your barbed response, but he did not react as you thought he might.

“I mean it,” he said earnestly, “all of it, I swear. Please, Y/N. Look at me.”

Reluctantly you turned to face him, and saw at once the sincerity in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and a tear slipped down your cheek.

“You hurt me,” you said quietly. “You forgot I was still there when you made that fucking toast.”

Aemond took your hand, and this time you did not pull away. “I did,” he sighed. “It was wrong of me, but all I wanted in that moment was to anger your brothers.”

“Yes, they are my brothers,” you said, “and I love them more than life itself. You would do well to remember that, no matter what transpires between you.”

“I know. I swear to you, such a mistake will not be made again.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes. I do.”

You exhaled shakily. “Do not make me a fool for trusting you twice.”

“I would never do that,” he assured you, “not to the one I love the most.”

When he wanted to, his words had always had a knack for making you smile, just as they were now.

“I could not bear to see you so upset,” he continued. “This guilt has torn relentlessly at my heart. Knowing what I had done to you, I could hardly even sleep last night.”

You squeezed his hand, before lifting it briefly to your lips. “I forgive you,” you whispered. “Just make things right tomorrow. Set your pride aside and apologise to my brothers, too… even if my silence towards you felt like penance enough.”

The look of annoyance on his face almost made you laugh, more so when he resolved to do as you said. As earnest as he was, his reluctance was obvious - but he knew your forgiveness would only be fully earned when it was done.

Nonetheless, you forgave him enough to first grant him one kiss, then several more, until the sky grew lighter and you knew you had to return.

“Just like the old days, eh?” he grinned as he saddled Vhagar.

You rolled your eyes. “Meaning last month?”

He chuckled at that, giving you one final kiss before you mounted your own dragon. “I should like to meet you somewhere a little closer by tomorrow night… perhaps in your room, if you’ll allow it. Vhagar is getting old, you know,” he added with a smirk.

“We shall see,” you laughed. “Provided you behave yourself, my love.”

Aemond watched you leave on dragonback with a fond smile, knowing that no matter how difficult, he would keep any and every promise he made to you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader

[angstsfordays]

I will go to you like the first snow [1/?]

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x OC! femreader

Summary: "Before I held you, I didn’t know that the world I was in was this bright." The beginning days of how Coriolanus and OC met in the Academy a year before the 10th Hunger games.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow himself is a warning but nothing unhealthy from him in this chapter! Still relatively tame before his true nature unveils itself later on!

Notes: Hi everyone, I'm back from the dead. Just kidding, but yes I am back and definitely inspired to write again now that I have a wee bit of time. My latest addiction as you guessed from above is TBOSAS, and I swear it's so unhealthy for me to crush on villains albeit they're fictional. I have plans for this to be a series of reads with no structured timeline and rather it be snippets of different scenarios that could happen with a OC insert in this universe. Just wanted to get this out of my head and into words so please enjoy this humble writing of mine!

Love, Angstsfordays 🫶🏼

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The first time Coriolanus saw you was when you walked into the classroom on a random Wednesday. It was only halfway into his junior year at the academy and he least expected someone would be able to transfer into the prestigious elite Academy at all.

You were definitely not from the Capitol if you were to enroll into school this late.

"Do you think she's like Plinth?" Coriolanus overheard one of the students' hush whispers to another. A likely possibility- the young Snow thought. You must have come from new money- your family must have somewhat made a huge profit and earned the favour of the Capitol to be able to let their daughter enter the Academy.

Your dark and sleek long hair contrasted with the bright red and blue of the Academy's uniform. Despite the dark colour of your eyes, it shoned brightly with a type of confidence as you took your time to scan the entire class and made sure to stare right into each and one of the students who casting dubious glances at you.

"Now now, hush and let me introduce to you the latest addition to our class." Professor Demigloss spoke with a calm type of excitement.

Giving you a small courteous smile, the professor nudged you to introduce yourself. "My name is Y/N Y/L/N", you curtly answered. The students who heard your last name were even more perplexed at who you could be as they never heard of it before- not even in the latest gossips that the Capitol has to offer.

"Perhaps you lot are more familiar with the name, Carnell." Professor Demigloss then added with slight glee afterwards when your maternal family's name drew the gasps of the entire class. The Carnell family was famous as old legend in Panem- best known to be one of the few significant families who helped contributed to the founding of Panem in its early days. The Carnell family were known for their fearsome military strength and training of great soldiers.

Where was someone like you from such a powerful family hiding all this time? Coriolanus did not recall seeing someone like you during the social parties he attended when he was younger.

"That's my mother's family name. I am Y/N Y/L/N." You explained, more towards the professor than everyone else.

Professor Demigloss who seemed taken aback by your correction gave an awkward smile before nodding. He then informed you that Clemensia would be your student buddy to help you get orientated to the school and asked you to take your seat at the far end of Coriolanus' row.

Coriolanus' eyes followed you as you made your way up the stairs and to your seat with careful steps. Once you settled in your seat and the professor started talking, you felt a pair of eyes on you.

Tilting your head to the left, you saw your so called student buddy, Clemensia and beside her was a boy. A boy with eyes that held the intense gaze that you gave him. There was no animosity, no haughtiness like the rest of the students who looked at you when you first stepped into the room.

You couldn't read him but you were sure he was somewhat different from the rest in the room. Before it felt like it would get weird with the long staring, your eyes quickly flicked over to the professor and your postured leaned forward as if you were interested to listen to the class.

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"No way, someone got a higher score than Snow?!"

"Who is it?!"

"Who is the Academy's new top student now?"

Coriolanus was halfway through his lunch before he started hearing the hurried tones of other students in the cafeteria. Before this, Coriolanus knew that the latest exam scores would be posted around this timing.

As eager as he was to check his scores when they were posted, he wanted to give into his hunger first. He had no doubt that he would be the top scorer for the term. There was just no way else anyone else could have done better than him.

As his ears perked up on the sayings of the cohort of students, his heart dropped for a moment. Someone actually did better than him? The next feeling was adrenaline as he quickly packed up his extra food into his bag before his legs stood up and led the way to the bulletin board.

Term 2's Academic Ranking

Y/N Carnell

Coriolanus Snow

Coriolanus could not believe his eyes. How were you the top student? You haven't even been in this school for more than 3 months and you managed to stand at the top, knocking him to a humiliating second place. The thought of the Plinth's prize leaving his grasp washed over him.

Coriolanus was usually reserved especially in the public eye to maintain the prestige of his family name. But his obsession with perfection especially when it came to his grades were one of the few things that could shook his calm demeanor.

The young Snow turned his head furiously as he felt himself being swarmed by more students. That's when he spotted the wisp of your hair flying and leaving past as you turned around the corner of the hallway.

Coriolanus wormed his way out of the crowd and took long strides to storm his way to you. You were on your way out of the school with your hand on the door handle before you felt a presence behind you. A hand rested above yours on the handle, nudging it against the force of your pull to open and exit the school.

You turned around and was shocked by how close Coriolanus stood behind you as your face met with his chest before your eyes went up to meet his. His eyes were bright with somewhat of a calm rage.

"Shit, what are you doing?!" You said with a false bravado.

The both of you let go of the door while staring at each other in silence briefly. You were waiting for him to speak but when it seemed like he was not going to say anything, you feet started turning towards the door again before Coriolanus spoke. "How?"

"How what?" You spoke in confusion.

"How did you managed to take my spot?" So that's why he decided to stop you from leaving? You scoffed at the pettiness before deciding to give in and answer, hoping Coriolanus would leave you be.

"I just studied." Apparently your answer was not good for him as he continued to rambled on in a fit.

"What do you mean you just studied? You transferred less than 3 months ago, how are you able to catch up with everything?! Your grandfather managed to get a private tutor for you?" As you thought things couldn't get worse, Coriolanus managed to hit a sore spot of yours.

Coriolanus heard from the gossips of the likes of Livia Cardew and Arachne Crane that you were not originally born in the Capitol despite your maternal family's powerful name. You were the product of a tragic fairy tale romance. Your parents' love story was one from the books- the first-born daughter of the highest ranking military commander in Panem falling in love with a talented yet low-birth soldier who had caught the eye of your grandfather for his combat potential during an off-site training in district 7 and personally took him under his tutelage.

When your mother decided to reject an arranged marriage with one of Panem's prestigious families that could bring honor to both families, she did something no one else would expect of a prim and proper Capitol-born and raised lady. She decided to elope with your father and found refuge in a secluded village in District 11.

Your grandpa, embarrassed and outraged decided to disown your mother- not killing her as one last act of mercy being once a daughter of Carnell.

It was not until your grandfather's recent decline in health the past few years made he realised that he could not bear to separate from his precious only daughter and made arrangements for you and your mother to come back to the Capitol.

Your father had unfortunately passed away due to a sudden disease infection in his health a few years prior when you were thirteen. It was an excruciating time for you and your mother as there was no way you could seek proper medical help for him while living in the districts.

After your father's passing , your mother was struggling to provide for both of you so she agreed to come back to the Capitol for your sake when your grandfather reached out. She couldn't bear to see you suffer and wanted you to be able to have the same privileged upbringing she was born into. It was then she decided to move on from the past and accepted your grandfather's offer.

You only agreed for your mother's sake but had disdain that everything was the Capitol and for your grandfather who cold-heartedly threw your mother out. Before allowing you to make your debut into the Capitol, your grandfather hired a home tutor to prepare you enough to enter the Academy on an equal footing as any elite Capitol children.

The grueling and rigorous studying hours in your home study was an unwanted distant memory- you requested for your grandfather to dismiss the private tutor upon your enrollment and assured him you would be able to keep up once you enter the Academy.

"No, I don't have one. I didn't want one." Answering through gritted teeth, you hope that the boy in front of you can just stop.

"Then how?" Growing annoyed at his persistent questions, you decided to tell him the truth.

"I just have a good memory, okay? I can remember a lot of stuffs at once. That's all."

"That's cheating." Rolling your eyes at his pettiness, you folded your arms as you turned away from his annoying yet handsome face.

"It's not like I asked for it! Besides, the exams are not just about memorization but application of theories too. That's something even photographic memory can't help you with!" The stunned expression on Coriolanus face told you even that he had no choice but to agree with the validity of your point.

"Look, I'm sorry I took your spot. I didn't even expect to be at the top. I just want to graduate quietly, I never wanted any of this." Coriolanus grew quiet as he saw how you stared off with a forlorn look.

"Why wouldn't you not want any of this? Wealth and privilege."

"More like chains and scrutiny. He took my freedom away. And now I'm stuck here with a bunch of prissy stuck up kids." The disdain for your grandfather was evident in how you spoke with seething anger. You shot Coriolanus one last look before you walked out of the door.

This was the least expected outcome Coriolanus would have thought of when he decided to approach you. This was also the most that you two have talked ever since you have entered the Academy.

Despite being a new face and not Capitol-born, the Carnell name was too big for any elite to ignore and you soon gained some attention. There were people who admired your social standing and wanted to try to approach you for their own benefit and while some others disdained you for not being born and raised in the Capitol like them but still remained civil to you for your maternal family's namesake.

Coriolanus noticed that you kept to yourself mostly but were able to be friendly to most when approached. He seen you interact with Sejanus (of course of all people) the most- it seems that being district prior was likely the cause of why you were able to bond with him so much. Coriolanus scoffed to himself at the thought and for a moment wondered why that bothered him.

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The next time you both met again was when Coriolanus approached you during lunch. During the class before lunch, Professor Satyria announced for a paired class assignment and the whole class almost went into a frenzy when you and Coriolanus were announced as partners.

"How could you do that professor? They are literally number one and number two in the cohort! Where does that leave us?!" Upon seeing the students' fervent response, Professor Satyria smirked in child-life mischief before forming a wide Cheshire cat smile.

"Yes, I'm very aware and instead of the boring strategy to make them compete one another, I would like to see if the two top students are able to produce something far beyond my expectations!"

An invisible weight was placed on Coriolanus shoulders' at his professors words. He was her favourite student after and he did not want to disappoint her, furthermore with her expectations being set so high, the desire to meet it has caused the pressure to increased tenfold.

He hated group projects, knowing that if others failed to play their part, the brilliance of what he could create be diminished. But perhaps, if it was you- another fellow academic who has shown to be on par on his level, it could be different.

Coriolanus then decided that he needed to speak with you immediately to discuss the assignment and decided to do so during lunch. Where were you? He had never seen you once at the cafeteria during lunch.

Coriolanus then decided to approach Sejanus as much as his pride didn't want him to- figuring that if there was anyone who had a clue about where you were, it was the boy who shared a similar upbringing as you.

Sejanus figured that Coriolanus would have wanted to find you regarding the assignment and gave away your secret lunch spot. Under a tree with bright red leaves also known as the 'Burning ash', Coriolanus spotted you at the small table that was placed near the tree.

As he got closer, Coriolanus found himself feeling envious when greeted by the sight of the extravagant packed lunch that you had brought from home.

"That seems nice." He started off with a compliment to warm you up. You looked up at him with surprised doe eyes before quickly switching them to one that was guarded. He recalled that both of your last encounter with each other was far from pleasant and started to feel nervous at the thought.

"Hmm, abit too much." You brushed off his compliment as you continued to open up the different compartments of the boxes.

"The cafeteria food is actually pretty good so why...." Coriolanus tried to continue the conversation. To his surprise, you were not curt in your response and went on to explain in detail.

"My grandfather has an irrational fear of food poisoning from his warring days so he does not trust any food prepared by outsiders. He even has his own poison taster...." Rolling your eyes while continuing your explanation, you also can't help but to notice how the boy opposite you was looking at your food.

"Well, he passed his fear onto his family and does not allow us to eat any food prepared by anyone else other than our house chef unless we have a poison taster around." You continued explaining with a quirked smile as you thought about how dramatic your strict grandfather could be. Coriolanus then decided to pull out a cookie from his bag and into his mouth.

"Doesn't seem like this is poisoned." He spoke through muffled bites.

"Give it ten seconds." You quipped back playfully before Coriolanus started pretending to cough and gagged which caught you off guard. When he started to grin at your reaction, you couldn't help a smile forming on your face at the lame joke he tried to pull.

Searching for the extra spoon that was packed into your lunch to Coriolanus, you offered it to the boy in front of you. "Would you like to have some? I can't finish possibly all of them."

"Oh no- I couldn't-"

"Please. I happen to see food peeking out from your bag a couple of times. I don't know the reason but please- really. This is all too much for me and I hate to see food go to waste." At first, Coriolanus was embarrassed to hear that you have caught him in his act but it quickly turned to something else as your last statement stroke an emotional cord with Coriolanus.

You recommended for him to try the soup and your heart tightened with some warmth when you see Coriolanus taking more mouthfuls of soup. He usually had a cool facade so seeing him with such a light and boyish expression made you felt some sort of way.

The soup he had was one of the best food he had in awhile but before he could continue in his indulgence, he was then alerted about the statement you made earlier- about seeing the food that he would pack from lunch in his bag. How long have you been noticing it?

It would have been terrible if anyone else in the school knew about it and spread gossip. The fact that you knew and just kept it to yourself- Coriolanus' view of you have now moved to one in a positive light.

The two of you ate quietly without exchanging much words and instead reveled in the comforting of each other's company. The dynamics of your relationship started to change from this simple lunch onwards and the two of you started to spend more time togther.

Coriolanus and you ended up presenting the best assignment in the history of the Academy which solidified both of your reputations in the entire school. Despite being district born and raised, you definitely proven that you had 'Capitol blood' in you with your outstanding results and other students did best to not underestimate you anymore.

Coriolanus once again regained his standing as the top student the following term and both of you took turns to reclaim the top spot in a friendly competition. He gladly acknowledged you as someone who was worthy to be his academic rival and friend at the same time and would even be sincerely happy for you when your name came out on top.

The two of you always spent lunch together under the Burning Ash tree. You purposely asked for a bigger lunch to be prepared for yourself so that you could always share it with him. Sometimes you even got him to bring the extra food home too. Seeing him eating well made you feel some sort of indescribable contentment and even though he has not shared why he was always hiding and keeping food in his bag, you did not pry.

Coriolanus was grateful for this and he felt that one day, he would eventually want to share his deepest secrets that no one else knew with you.

The other students presumed that the two of you were always hanging out with each other because of the assignment that Professor Satyria gave but when the two of you continued to stay around each other after the assignment- people began to speculate especially when a guy and girl seems to be around each other most of the time.

While on the way to the restroom one day, Coriolanus was just about to open the door when he heard two boys talking about you from the inside.

"You think Y/N is together with Snow?" The first voice sounds like it belonged to Festus Creed.

"Tough to say, I mean she does talk to other guys but they're always having lunch I heard. But they don't seem like they're actually together you know?" The next voice belonged to another classmate, Apollo Ring.

"I think I'm going to ask her out." Festus spoke with an affirmative tone.

"Really? Since when do you like her?" Besides Apollo, Coriolanus also shared the same surprise upon Festus' declaration. Coriolanus inched his way closer to the door without giving away that he was there to listen in to the two boys' conversations.

"I wasn't sure about her being from the district before but she kind of proved everyone wrong at the Academy with how intelligent she is. Besides, she's way more likeable than girls like Cardew and Crane. And she's really pretty too especially when she smiles."

"You sound like you're in love already. You really think you have a chance with her? Forget Snow, her grandpa is Chief Commander Carnell." Apollo snickered at his friend who sounded like he was in a dreamy state. A gnawing feeling creeped inside Coriolanus' chest as he thought about the possibility of you going out with Festus.

Sure, Festus was an alright guy but was he worthy of you? You are afterall the only granddaughter of the Carnell family. Fester hit the nail on the head alright, you are not just beautiful but smart and likeable too. Besides the obvious attention you would get from guys, Coriolanus heard the whispers of envious girls who wanted to be like you which in itself showed how charming you were to everyone.

"You never know if you don't try, right?" Festus' voice brought Coriolanus out of his thoughts as he realised the door was opening. He was then met with the stunned faces of Fester and Apollo who were surprised to see Coriolanus at the other side of the door.

Giving a look of acknowledgment, Coriolanus pretended to be aloof and just walked past the two boys to use the restroom. As the door closed and he was left alone, Coriolanus looked up to see himself in the mirror. He felt himself feeling warm and his hand reached over to clutched the fabric that was covering where his heart would be.

What was this emotion he was feeling? He did not absolutely wanted to lose you to anyone else. Just imagining you directing your smile, the one where you would shyly look down before looking up like a ray of sunshine- at someone else but him would kill him.

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Coriolanus was waiting outside the school for you so that you could take a short walk out before heading your separate ways home. As Coriolanus fiddled with the compass that belonged to his dad to pass the time, his instinct told him to look up and that's when he saw you stopped in your tracks by Fester.

It looked like Fester was making an attempt to swoon you as he animatedly spoke which caused you to give a pleasant smile in return. As the wind blew and your let down hair started swirling in the air, Coriolanus' breath was taken away for a short moment before it stopped short seeing Fester reaching over to tuck a strand behind your ear.

Coriolanus could see the minute flinch you made upon the sudden contact. He was not going to allow any of Fester's forlorn wish to happen and took it upon himself to stride up the long steps to where you stood.

"Y/N, there you are!" Whipping your head to Coriolanus' voice, a sense of relief washed over you at his entrance.

Just a minute ago, Festus came up to you as you were leaving the school. He mentioned that he did pretty badly in the last term assignment and was wondering if you could tutor him given that you were the top student for the subject. You were actually considering it, thinking that there was no harm.

When you first came to the Academy, you were sure to hate it knowing that it was only open to children of the most elite families in the Capitol. You knew that most of the students had a privileged upbringing and tend to be quite stuck up, specially to someone like you were originally from the district despite coming from a prominent family.

You did noticed how the students pretended to be civil to Sejanus but spoke ill of him once his back was turned afterall. You were sure that you were subjected to the same treatment but was fortunate that it didn't happen thanks to how fearsome your grandfather's reputation and name could be.

You did however find that some of the students were still pleasant such as your Clemmie, Sejanus, the Ring twins, Lysistrata and the likes. Your mind then went to Coryo (as you now called him by his request) and a small smile quirked at the thought of him.

You were sure that he was the last person you had expected to be close friends with. You knew he was a studious person and he always appeared to calm and reserved, although when he spoke- you felt a sense of charisma and wit that distinguished him from the rest.

When he had came up to confront you about knocking off the podium for last term's grades, you thought he was a sore loser but when he then approached you again for the paired assignment, he showed another side to himself.

A more vulnerable and boyish side to him that allowed you to open up to him and that's the Coryo that you find yourself drawn to. The side of him he hardly shown to anyone else but you, at least that's what you think.

Coryo's voice woke you out of your thoughts as he spoke once more. "Hey, we should get going if we don't want to be late."

"Oh, late for what?" Fester asked curiously and your mind scrambled for an answer.

"Uhm, for something." You realised that this was not going well when Fester tilted his head to the side in confusion. Turning to Coryo for help, he tapped his fingers on the book he was holding and you immediately got the hint.

"I mean, Coryo and I had study plans together."

"Oh can I join?" Stumped by Fester's persistence, you looked back at Coryo who looked almost irritated. Coriolanus then slid his hand over your shoulder and took an inch closer to you. Your ears started turning red and your heart started to race uncontrollably at the contact. Why was your body reacting like this?

"This is something that Y/N and I had already planned together." Fester was not dumb as he saw how Coriolanus was looking at him right now.

"Oh is that right? Perhaps next time, Y/N?" Fester tried his luck on you seeing how you were the one not showing any hostility towards him.

You opened your mouth wanting to answer but nothing came to your mind. Seeing as you did not know how to reject the poor boy, Coryo slid his hand down from your shoulder to your hand and interlocked your fingers together.

Before you could comprehend what he was doing, Coryo pulled you forward to follow him as he almost leaped down the stairs and he turned back to you with an unknown look.

"We're going to be late." He spoke and you then nodded along before turning back to a confused Fester. "Sorry Fester, we're going to be late!" You echoed as you followed behind Coryo.

Not caring about Fester's response, you turned back to see Coryo looking at you with a cheeky grin and you returned one in same. Coryo looked down to your intertwined hands and then back up to your smile that looked like it could compete with the Sun.

Before I held you, I didn’t know that the world I was in was this bright.

"Yes, that's right. Only smile like this for me, Y/N. No one else."

Coriolanus thought to himself as he tightened the grip of your small hand in his.

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What do you think? Let me know in the comments! 😆

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