#but at least this wasn't something i was lied to about

[pomefioredove]

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech x reader #rollo flamme x reader #can't believe this is the first time I've written for rollo on this blog... bby I've missed u

[apollo-zero-one]

Man I can't believe I had the chance to go to a performing arts school up through middle school and I fuckin quit after 6 months just because I got bullied. BRO YOUR HOMEWORK WAS POETRY!! YOU HAD TO PRACTICE DANCING TO COTTON EYE JOE AS YOUR BIG UNIT TEST. GYM CLASS HAD A CIRCUS UNIT!! YOU HAD A WHOLE DAILY CLASS ON IMPROV!!! YOU FOOL!! YOU ABSOLUTE IMBICILE!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN A YOUTUBER!!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ONE OF THOSE TWEENAGERS GETTING LOADED BY MAKING SHITTY YOUTUBE SHORTS IN 2008-14!! But noooOoooOOOoo little miss Noellie (who WANTED TO GO!! who worked SO HARD and sent in an application essay and did an INTERVIEW to get in!!) couldn't handle disruptive classmates or little scuffles and petty grudges and general Attitude of the other students and cried to mommy to put her back in public school. I am EATING MY HAIR over what Could Have Been. I COULD BE SOMEONE'S ANNOYING YOUTUBER!! I could be a DISGRACED DISNEY CHANNEL STAR!! I could be an America's Got Talent winner! A mild to moderately successful comedian! I could be making short films!! But no no no precious thin skinned baby me heard a few new cus words and watched a teacher get heckled and begged to give up The Dream in favor of?? Quiet math tests?? I am such a fucking quitter I quit everything the second it gets too hard I always take the out as soon as it's offered what's my fucking damage.....

#I had SO MUCH POTENTIAL and I SQUANDERED IT!! weak ass third grade PUSSY! Your life could have been SO SICK!! #or you could at least be addicted to cocain or something interesting like that!! Boring ass goody two shoes always just staying home doing #NOTHING bitch make a REAL FRIEND go to a God Damn PARTY live a little instead of just hiding in the closet eating saltine crackers for years #waiting for it to be quiet outside before you ever even toed the line #mentally ill self-isolating motherfucker #you could have shrugged it off you could have GROWN A PAIR and FOUGHT BACK but you just ran and cried for mommy #victim complex little bitch baby always whining and exaggerating and making shit up fucking LIAR I am you and I KNOW what you did and I know #you knew it wasn't the truth and you regretted it the moment it came out of uour mouth but once you'd said it you just swallowed it back and #doubled down incriminating or discrediting others with your lies. For why? Because you didn't like them? You could have ruined someone's #life you wouldn't have hesitated mayhe you did and don't even remember because you cant keep your mouth shut with your pants ablaze #manipulative little shit and to WHAT END? Pity? Sympathy? Attention? Entertainment?? What was even going on in your stupid ugly head? #This is a callout post for my third grade self that possessed demon ass evil nine year old. That kid drowned anthills in olive oil and #poisoned a wild animal once. That kid cut plants just to see if they oozed. That kid modified her whole ass personality on a dime for a boy #she had a crush on. INSTANTLY dropped a LIFELONG CULTURAL ALLEGIANCE (thats what football teams were like back then in our town) because he #said he had the opposite allegiance??? What the fuck? girl had NO integrity none zip zilch. #No empthy either that kid looked at everyone else on earth like they were friggin space aliens and she was the only one with Real feelings. #bitch literally thought like 'I have Feelings they just have Reactions' bitch what the fuckkkkk #that nine year old was fucked the hell up!!! #and for literally NO REASON!! No cause!! Just born fucking evil and weird. jesus fuck. #Evil ass bitch caused her autistic brother months of nightmares and then laughed about it and wrote poetry about how evil he was because he? #was a kid??? Normal sibling rivalry taken way way way too far defamatory ass statements #and this girl had NO CONSEQUENCES because she could lie and manipulate her way out of ANYTHING she had the baby eyes and the helpless charm #and played dumb soooo well . read people like some calculative evil AI scanning their faces for microexpressions and overanalyzing each word #choice like holy shit. its not That Deep. pretentious shit trying to play 5D chess on a checkers board. #Manipulating shit just to see what happens?? zero awareness?? no asking just skipping straight to testing for yourself?? #'What happens if I step on this' it fucking breaks 'what does that taste like?' it's not fucking yours to mess with 'if I hit this person #how will they respond?' they'll be upset use your goddamn judgement you are NINE not TWO do you even care a little about any other person?? #Are you just living in some other reality??? #callout post for the fucking demon child inside of me #im so goddamn problematic I'm so so so deeply mentally disturbed and broken for no reason

[katakaluptastrophy]

I think what's so interesting about Gideon as a narrator at the anniversary dinner is the fact that there's clearly tensions that she's just not picking up on because she's only there to eat a dessert.

But these people are all the immensely powerful leaders of the Houses and consider themselves to be in competition for literal godlike powers and the favour of the emperor.

There's so many little snippets that are potentially intriguing: why is Teacher trying to prime the Ninth to consider the Fifth a threat? Why are the Third and the Sixth "sizing each other up like prizefighters"? The Fifth absolutely knew what they were doing when they sat the teen heads of the opposing cults near each other.

Through Gideon's lens, Magnus' speech is a little awkward jokey thing. But...the seneschal of the House that is known to be actively trying to absorb another House is saying it's such a shame they're all so remote from each other and what do they all have in common (and it's so quiet you "could have heard a hair flutter to the floor") - that had to feel a bit different to people who aren't Gideon.

Palamedes' is dissecting the meaning of "Master Warden" and at one point compares it to a prison warden. 'Dulcinea' asking about whether Magnus and Abigail have children is perhaps less small talk and rather more pointedly political. Harrow's apparently stilted conversation with Protesilaus is clearly her actually probing his limitations like he's a bad Chat GPT-run chatbot.

And then 'Dulcinea' tells Gideon she liked the dinner because it was "useful". In her typical "I never lied to you" way, Cyth wasn't lying when she said Abigail had to die because of her hobby - Abigail Pent let loose on the Facility would have risked blowing Cyth's cover sky high. But what does a Canaan House look like where after the dinner party, the Fifth go down to the facility, get a key, and survive to continue their 'the Houses are going to get along or else' agenda? We've seen Fifth House soft power on a smaller scale in HTN: and it looks like inviting a teenager round for coffee, lulling her into a false sense of security with small talk, and then physically preventing her from leaving the room until she does what you want, while smiling the entire time. A series of little coffee chats could probably have led to a lot of cooperation in Canaan House, one way or another.

Gideon jokes about Silas marrying Ianthe because of their similar colour pallete, but it does raise the fact that there seems to be some tension around the Third, its succession, and the *point* of Ianthe. Why is Silas openly saying Ianthe should have died at birth? Combined with Judith's comments in the Cohort Intelligence Files about succession on the Third, it feels like there's something else being said here that Gideon isn't picking up on.

And of course, Harrow wasn't the only one desperate to become a Lyctor because her con was unsustainable. Presumably at some point Corona and Ianthe would be expected to marry, or at least take on more separate roles as Corona prepared to take over the throne and Ianthe was funneled off elsewhere. At some point, their package deal would have become unsustainable and Corona's cover would have been blown. But much as Harrow wants to become a Lyctor so she can reveal the state of the Ninth without repercussions, Ianthe is probably in part motivated to become a Lyctor for the same reason. Because otherwise, what would Ianthe's expected role have been? Amidst the suggestion of anxiety about the Idan succession, the dinner party also presents the fact that the reason Abigail and Magnus' infertility isn't a succession crisis for the ruling family of the Fifth is that Abigail's younger brother dutifully married in his early 20s and had kids. We know there are branch families in Ida - Babs is from one. He may be a prince, but he's not treated well, and you do get the sense that the stakes to stay in power in Ida are high.

We don't learn anything about the political situation in the Houses themselves during HTN or NTN, but in the wake of Canaan House, you have to suspect there are a number of tensions and concerns.

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #Is Ianthe's “going to see a man about a queen” seeing to the political situation back home in Ida? #Which must have been devastated by her ascension and Corona's apparent death?

[lilithandherharlots]

Too shy to tell you

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.

Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]

Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!

:::

"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.

"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.

"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."

"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.

He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.

"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.

"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."

He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.

:::

It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.

"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.

"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.

"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.

He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.

"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.

"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.

"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.

"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."

You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.

"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.

You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.

"Please don't take that away from me."

His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...

"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."

As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.

"F-fine... I promise."

"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.

"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"

The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.

This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.

He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.

"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.

"I'll buy you the cutest flats."

:::

A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.

The end

#miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman smut

[gremlingottoosilly]

Reader who lies about König being her boyfriend to get herself out of trouble, que to König finding out

It was just a small lie. To your parents, at first. You said that yes, of course mom, I have a boyfriend - but oh, he is actually a colonel in the military, something something mercenaries, contracts, I barely see him and forced to wipe my tears of missing him with dollar bills he sends in a tight envelope every two weeks( Konig wasn't your friend per say, just a guy you knew through a couple of other friends - he is always quiet, always out of the loop, one time you helped him fix his phone because he had too many hentai viruses and then you recommended him to just buy an iPhone - and he did. For both of you. Something about repaying for your help. You had a couple of pictures together, with his hand slump awkwardly around your shoulder. He is kinda weird about you, come to think of it - ever since you started to talk to him from this time, he became...awkward. Kinda weird about your...well, everything - and you don't want to be judgy, of course not, but it's still just a bit awkward. Nonetheless, you started telling your other friends that you're...not seeing each other exactly, but that there is something. Mainly because you were tired from questions...and also because Konig is the only guy from your friend group that follows you like a puppy. You only found out that he knew about it when you were exiting a friend's gathering. His hand caught yours, a firm hold on your wrist. Quiet statement that he will drive your home - this is what boyfriends are supposed to do, right? You tried to tell him that he is not your boyfriend, that there is no way he believed in whatever lies you were telling to everyone - but your friends smile at how considerate he is, spend the whole night not drinking just so he could drive his drunk girl home. Konig smiles under that dumb half-mask of his when you try to protest without alerting your friends. when he drags you to his car and instructs you to take off his mask and kiss him properly - it's the least you could do after leading him on for so long and then simply using him as a shield, right? He isn't mad, not really...he'd play the role of your boyfriend just fine if you were okay with him getting it too seriously...

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat- enter Jason 1/2

MASTERPOST

The air was different with Cass, now. Danny felt a little anxious as he followed her to the study after breakfast. Something about her was serious-determined-protective. 

She always felt protective towards him. That was why he'd followed her in the first place. Some ghosts lied, but they couldn't do it with their aura. He knew what she really felt for him. 

“Sit?” She asked him. She gestured at the big squashy chair. Danny did without complaint. Cass perched behind him and started dragging her fingers through his hair, relaxing him.

Man. She was good at this. Top tier mothering, right here. Danny went limp. 

“I'm worried,” Cass broke the silence. She didn't sound worried. She never really did. Her voice was quiet and serious, but still kind. Her thumbs dug into his scalp. He pushed his head back against it. Bliss. “Barbara made you sad. Because you miss your sister?”

Danny tensed. 

‘I should have figured that Batman would track me down.’

Maybe he had known, if he was honest with himself. It didn't hit him like a shock.

“Tim thinks your name is Fenton,” she added, brutally sensible as always. And yup, that was it. No point in denying it. “Declared dead. In danger?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn't going to lie to her. 

“Worried,” she repeated. 

He thought about it. He really did. Danny bit his lip. 

She was liminal. That probably meant she'd come really close to death, in at least one sense of the word. Would that mean she was desensitized to it, or extra paranoid?

…It was hard to imagine Cass over or under reacting to a possible danger. She was just so steady. But would she see him as a possible danger if she knew what he was, what he really was? 

He could feel it out before he took a plunge with the whole truth.

Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was invasive. She didn't seem to realize that she was liminal. That meant she definitely didn't realize how much she was communicating to him under her words and gestures. 

But Danny deliberately tuned into her quiet aural communication and tested the waters. “Tim is right, I'm Danny Fenton,” he said. He knew he was too tense. She would definitely feel it. But what could he do about that? He was nervous. “I… Maybe I did die.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach. He could feel the crush of grief on her heart. 

But it didn’t wash away the thudding repetition of love-protect-my darling. There was no suspicion, no guilt, no fear. It was just pain for his sake, with no calculation about how to solve a sudden problem. 

God. He wanted so badly for that to have been how his parents reacted. His eyes started to sting.

Danny sniffled. He thought it was safe to tell her. “I died,” he corrected, and he knew he was right when Cass made a little wounded sound and leaned her body into him, aiming to comfort. “Not then, but a couple years ago. I’m different now, and it’s uh… It’s dangerous to be this way.”

“Affects?” Cass asked quietly. She started to pet his hair again. “Mood? Health?”

“...Huh,” he said, because that was a sensible question he hadn’t expected. If he really thought about his mood and emotions before and after the accident: “Yeah, uh, there’s sometimes a mood thing. I might be a little more aggressive than I was before? And I can get kind of intense sometimes.”

He had thought that was basically just a reaction to having a whole bunch of new threats in his life. But would pre-electrocution Danny have been able to actually stand and fight Skulker? He had genuinely been afraid of the jocks. Maybe… Maybe he was different. Sure, Sam and Jazz were up for shooting ghosts with Fenton tech. Would he have been if he was just human? 

…He didn’t really think so.

Oof. Well, that wasn’t exactly great for his sense of self.

Cass shook him lightly. “Health?” she repeated.

Danny forced down that revelation to deal with later. He didn’t like acknowledging that he was kind of a chicken by nature, but historically, there wasn’t much evidence of bravery pre-mortem. “Uh, my heart rate is really slow, body temp is low, so I can’t really afford to go to a doctor for a checkup,” he said. “Uh, sometimes I’ve got none at all and my hair turns white.” He paused there. That was- that was enough, yeah? He was going to be honest with her because she deserved honesty from him. But that didn’t mean he had to explain the whole great beyond and his inhuman status.

“Sounds like Jason,” Cass said, after a long silence.

Danny short-circuited. “Wait, what?” He craned to look at her. “Who?”

Cass darted forward to kiss his forehead. “Little brother,” she said cheerfully. “Want to meet him?”

Uh, yeah. Danny nodded vigorously, wondering what the hell she was on about. “Do you mean he died?” 

“Died,” Cass agreed, getting out her phone and tapping away at it rapidly.

“Not like, heart stopped for a minute on the operating table and he was revived, or what?” Danny pressed.

“Dead in the ground, came back later,” Cass said. “Dead for months. Now, very crabby.”

Danny balked. “What?”

“White hair too,” she said. Then her face did something funny. “I think he dyed it recently,” she said. 

Danny huffed a laugh. “If it’s the same thing as mine, you can’t dye it.” He saw her look over his head for white streaks. He didn’t correct her line of thought.

He hadn’t thought that anything could top the anticipation of meeting Batman. But Danny had to admit the rest of the day was a wash. Apparently Jason couldn’t make it until the evening, about an hour before patrol.

Danny nearly paced a line into the carpet. He had enough energy to do that now, even without ecto. He was getting soooo much food here. A guy couldn’t even stress out for an hour without someone coming by to make sure he had fruit and yogurt or a hot drink.

He didn’t need someone to come and tell him that the much anticipated Jason had shown up. Danny knew it when he went to take a sip of cruelty-free chocolate milk (hand delivered by the most frightening child in the world) and choked on vapor.

Damian gave him a glare and snatched the drink away. “Are you incapable of drinking beverages?” he demanded. His face looked so goddamn cross but he was just worried.

Danny managed a smile. “No, went down the wrong pipe, sorry.”

Damian didn’t seem to even see the fog, so- so that meant that either he was really unobservant or he wasn’t liminal enough to see it the way people did in Amity. That was a small blessing. Danny appreciated it and he took back his drink to have something to hold onto.

That was a whole ass ghost. That was a whole ghost coming onto the property, one that felt big and mad and old. Danny smacked his lips, disconcerted. 

He, uh, didn’t know what to expect from this.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #cassandra cain #red mama bat

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hello could you write a fic for miles42 having an airhead gf like shes his opposite (kind, always smiling, extroverted but shes a bit blunt) !! for the fic u can do wtv u want tbh !! but if u dont have any inspiration u could do something about her meeting miles42’s mom nd uncle or, him taking his gf on a date or wtv u want bc idk if my ideas are good lmaoo

(Hello! Sure I can and here ya go! Enjoy!)

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Opposite!Reader

It's so funny how you guys even ended up getting together

You both obviously clash but oddly work out well together

Even Miles was surprised he ended up with you

"Blink twice if he kidnapped you, kid."

Words of Uncle Aaron the first time he met you

When Uncle Aaron and his mother met you, they probably thought he was gonna be with someone who matched him, probably Emo or at least similar to him

And to their surprise, and his mother's joy

You walked into the door!

His mother thinks your good for Miles, she sees you're able to get him to smile more, he's happier and she sometimes sees specks of Miles before his dad died come back

Even if Miles is surprised at himself he really does love you

He needs someone like you in his life

Walking down the street hand in hand people would never think that you guys were together

Even in photos, you're smiling, it always seems like he has a permanent frown on his face until out come along

It always looks like two completely different photos, but no

He warns you about being kind to everyone though, as he noticed is a habit of yours

Brooklyn isn't safe, everyone knows that and you could get hurt because you're too kind

You're kinda an airhead also

You once followed a man into his house because he said he had cats and she had kittens

Don't worry, the man was a kind and older man but the principle still stands

Miles noticed you're sorta an airhead, not a bad thing but something he looks out for you for

But he truly does love how much you care for him, his mom and even Uncle Aaron

When you guys first met he was a little suspicious

Just because he wasn't used to that in Brooklyn anymore

You were also incredibly blunt

He found it funny at first when it was at other people

He gets kinda frozen and can't help but sigh when it's directed at him

He thought Uncle Aaron would not like you when he brought you home

Not him mom

But you did great!

He didn't even need to warn you about calling his mom by her first name

He's gotta get used to you being so extroverted

Especially because now he is more closed off and likes to keep to himself more

Especially being the Prowler

But when you want to do anything and everything, social and make friends

He's the one looking over your shoulder and directing you away from assholes

He loves you, but he doesn't want you being hurt

You got them scary boyfriend privileges

I think you guys make a great pair

Miles was initially hesitant to introduce you to his mom and Uncle Aaron, but you wore him down.

So that's how he stood in the hallway of his own apartment like the guest, as his mother already liked you.

Plus, you didn't call her by her first name.

"Aye, you're so pretty, Mija." Miles' mother smiled at you, getting a genuine one back as she stood next to you, glancing at Miles.

"Oh, ¿cómo te las arreglaste?" Mrs. Morales started, her son blushed as he stood behind you, watching his mom practically flaunt around you.

"Mom!" Miles complained, Mrs. Morales waving him off with an eye roll.

"How did you meet my son of all people, hon?" Mrs. Morales asked, guiding you to the kitchen as you followed behind her, laughing under your breath.

"Well, I was walking to Mr. Gonzalez's bakery, and I was in line but I looked outside," you started, Miles freezing in embarrassment at the upcoming story as Uncle Aaron laughed.

"I saw Miles standing there in the window, but he was just staring at me?" You said, a confused tone in your voice as Miles could hear his mom chuckle.

"Anyway, I smiled at him and he sorta jumped. He…sorta smiled back? It was a little loopy but then he turned away real quick, but he tripped."

"Oh, man…" Uncle Aaron laughed, wrapping an arm around his nephew's shoulder as Miles looked down, blushing thankfully hidden as he hid his face in his shirt.

"He fell sorta hard so I went outside to help him, and yeah!" You smiled, Miles shaking his head as Uncle Aaron elbowed him.

"Stop…" Miles muttered, turning around to head to the kitchen as Uncle Aaron couldn't keep in his laugh any more.

Hey, you said it how it was.

Miles may complain about it, but seeing how you were sitting on the counter talking to his mom with a smile on his face, he couldn't complain about it much.

#earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #miles morales earth 42 x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Kidnapped Astarion

I have a very specific thing I can't stop thinking about. That involves Astarion getting kidnapped by Cazador for the ritual and him taunting him over the lie that Tav gave him away. Sold him even.

Tw: Lies, manipulation, mentions of torture, bad times had all around, it's long as fuck, betrayal (or at least the lie of it). Like Cazador is involved so all bad. Very bad. This also has VIOLENCE. Like canon game violence but it is BLOODY. You've been warned. Also happy ending :)

So now let's get to that angst:

It had all happened so fast.

One moment Astarion was laid back in the tent you share, reading a mediocre book as he impatiently waited for your return. He loathed when you went out without him, even if it was for good reason. He wasn't exactly welcome company when it came to solving Gale's problems, especially when it came to the bomb nestled in chest. You both knew his inability to keep his sarcastic quips to himself would not be an asset while exploring a sacred library. Besides, he didn't have much room to complain, not when he accompanied you on ninety-nine percent of your outings.

But that didn't mean he had to like it. Even if it was shaping up to be a nice, uneventful evening. He had set your tent a little farther away from the others, considering the complaints that some....well most had made about the volume of your nightly activities. It was quiet, peaceful even. The atmosphere tranquil enough for him to fully relax.

What a mistake that had been.

When the flap of the tent opened he didn't even look up, fully expecting it to be Shadowheart or Lae'zel coming round to dig about in his darling's things. It made sense, considering how it was one of the few times they wouldn't be risking walking in on something. You had such a bad habit with that "open door" policy of yours. One that had exposed nearly every party member to quite the show. Though in Astarion's view, they were just unreasonable. When you were both loud they complained. When you were quiet and they walked in on it they would whine even more. How could you win with people like that?

Perhaps a sign on the door would have done the trick, but Astarion would be lying if he didn't enjoy the others being fully aware of who could make you cry and moan. The risk was just more thrilling, if not the slightest bit annoying.

But the intruder was staying still at the opening, quiet as could be. It was odd enough to have Astarion glancing upward, his heart stopping in his chest at what he saw.

It was a man, frantically muttering something under his breath. A man that he recognized. The idiotic Petras, trying to cast some kind of incantation. It had Astarion scrambling upward, reaching for his dagger. But it was already too late. The spell was finished and Astarion could feel his senses start to fade away, one by one.

He had gotten sloppy, relying on the safety of camp that had never existed. And now he was paying the price, and what a price to pay. Even as he fell to the magic, one feeling managed to stay in place until the bitter end.

Terror.

And then, he felt nothing at all.

The next thing Astarion knew he was being awakened by a slap of cold water to his face, blinking up into horrifyingly familiar light. He immediately recognized where he was. The torture room, his arms hanging from the ceiling, his toes barely scraping the floor. It hurt to be suspended like this, a pain he was still so familiar with despite going months without. And in front of him was the cause of it all, sneering at him like the maniac he was.

Cazador.

"You're finally awake," He grinned, dropping the bucket that was in his hands, "You've been a very bad boy Astarion. Just what am I to do with you?"

Astarion wanted to answer, to curse at him, maybe even beg to just be left alone, but nothing came out. He was too stunned, too stupefied that he ended up here after everything he'd gone through. Everything you'd gone through. How could it end like this?

"I don't fully know what you were up to with all that time away from your family," Cazador continued, stepping close enough for Astarion to feel his disgusting breath on his skin, "But I think I may have the gist. Galivanting around with your merry-band of degenerates. Seems fitting."

Astarion gave a full-bodied flinch when Cazador started to graze along his collarbones with a gentle finger, his touch freezing and revolting. The gentleness wouldn't last, Astarion was surprised it was even there to begin with.

He should have realized there was a reason for it.

He trailed up his neck, stopping to trace a bruise you had left the night before. If only he had known that it was almost certainly the last time he would get to touch you. The realization was nearly enough to bring tears to Astarion's eyes, but he refused to cry in front of this creature, not if he could help it.

"Seems like you may have even found yourself a favorite amongst them. Tell me pet, who was it?"

"Fuck you." Astarion spat out, his fury managing to shine through his despair.

Astarion expected a hard slap for the insolence, but instead Cazador just laughed, loud and full-bellied, "You've gotten quite the temper since you've been away, haven't you? I wonder where that came about?"

It was a false question, Astarion could tell from the way his eyes were crinkled. Like a child excited to reveal a surprise. Cazador answered it for himself, "Is it that lovely little thing that you've been following around. Gods, what's their name again...Tav, is it?"

"Don't you dare say her name," Astarion growled, his righteous fury overcoming the ever-growing terror and dread, "They have nothing to do with this!"

"Oh but they do," Cazador grinned, stepping back to do one of his famous gloating sessions, "Just how do you think I found you? Luck? No my dear, you were given."

Astarion's answer was as immediate as it was hateful, "You're lying! You know nothing of them. Nothing of us."

He won't believe it, he has no reason to. You...you loved him. And you were probably looking for him as they spoke. You would never betray anyone like this, least of all him.

But Cazador remained unphased. If anything he was looking at him with pity, "Oh you poor thing. You think she cares? You think she loves you? I'm disappointed Astarion, it seems you've learned nothing from our time together. What is there to love, hm? Nothing that I can see. Though...they sure did seem to love the gold. You fetch quite the high price my dear. But it will be worth it."

Lies. It was all lies. It had to be. Astarion shoved his uncertainty back down, bellowing out, "Liar!"

It was forceful enough to even make Cazador falter for the briefest of moments, a split second that anyone else would have missed. But he pressed on, shaking his head, "Darling, don't you find it strange that you were all alone that day? That no one came to your aid? Where do you think you're love was, hm? Wait, don't tell me. I can remember...ah yes! With Gale, correct?"

Astarion swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. How...how did he know that?

"It was a fabulous excuse, was it not?" Cazador continued with a laugh, "We came up with that one together. After a little fun that is. I can see why you fell for their treachery Astarion, they are quite lovely, aren't they?"

No. No, no, no.

"Stop it," Astarion hissed, "Shut your mouth. I-It's not true."

"Oh but it is. I'm not sure if you're aware but you're quite the headache darling, not many can handle it. Not including myself. She even told me of that hilarious speech you gave. About wanting something real. It was just as funny to her as it was to me."

Astarion stared at him, at a complete loss for words. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. But...how else would he know that? In a camp full of people why did no one come to his aid? But the cruelty of it all...it was exactly the type of thing Cazador was versed in.

Setting up the same type of trap that he'd trained Astarion for, that he had used on others countless times. And he fell for it, he lost the game he thought he'd mastered.

His faith was slipping, hard and fast when he asked the horrible question, "How do you know that?"

"Because I sent them to you," He said with that disgusting grin, "It was no coincidence that you met. You were kidnapped, I needed you back, so I hired some help. It's a pity that they were captured as well. The pause to our plans was quite inconvenient. Our Tav just can't help but get distracted, can she?"

"No..." The word slipped out of Astarion without his consent, his mind racing. That couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. T-There had to be another explanation. If he could just think he'd find it. But...what point was there? He was already captured, taken. If anything, all of this being a grand scheme from Cazador was more logical than someone loving him.

He had gone through many, many tortures during his time here. Unspeakable, horrible things that he would never wish on anyone, excluding the man in front of him. But this...this was the worst thing he'd ever done to him. He had tricked him, you had tricked him, and he whole-heartedly fell for it, like the fool he was. The fool he would die as.

He didn't know it was possible, but this would be the greatest pain he ever knew. He was sure of that. Cazador had managed to do it. He had broken him, finally.

His tears were falling on their own accord, plentiful and pathetic. Cazador cooed at him, tracing his cheek with his horrid hand, "It hurts, doesn't it? I missed that expression on you my boy. You were always at you're prettiest when you had given up."

He wiped Astarion's tears away, gently holding his face as he spoke, "If only this was enough. The things I want to do to you for running away... I want to make you scream, make you beg for death. Just like how things used to be. If only we had the time."

Cazador let go, stepping back with a sigh, "How I wish that they had gotten you to me earlier. Though it's too late to pout about it now, the preparations are almost complete. But don't fret my boy, your end will have the meaning that your life failed to posses. Come along now."

Astarion hung there, limp as Cazador unhooked him from above. This was it. He was going to die here, as nothing but a pawn. He didn't even try to fight it when he was led down, deep into the palace to a place he'd never known existed. He kept his eyes closed for most of the journey, simply for the fact that he didn't have the strength to keep them open.

It was...a horrendous feeling to be incased in that red energy, floating in the air with all of his brothers and sisters as Cazador finished his preparations. It forced his eyes open against his will, making him see the hell that had been hiding beneath his feet all these years. He had been wrong about the sacrifice it seemed, it wasn't just them. There were thousands of bodies, barely alive in hanging cages, strewn throughout the place.

It was horrible, but fitting. Where else would something like him die? All he wished was that Cazador would hurry, so he could be done with it all. He has to much time to think in these last moments, too much time to examine your betrayal.

He...hates you. For it all. He hates you more than anything, enough for that same fury to come bubbling back to the surface. How dare you do this to him, after everything you'd been through. He should have killed you while you slept, while you let him drink from your throat. He should have killed them all, the vile sacks of shit.

If his soul ever found it's way back from the hell it was about to be damned too, he'd find you. His revenge was no longer reserved for Cazador, but for the wretched bitch hat tortured him in ways he didn't even think were possible. He'd do worse to you than anyone could imagine.

You were the cruelest thing to ever exist, as heartless and horrid as the monster before him.

So why was he still crying over it?

It didn't matter anyway. Not now. Now, all he could do was wait for the bitter end.

But then...he felt something. A familiar presence tickling the back of his mind. A barely there whisper, no words that he could make out. But it was getting stronger. Clearer.

It...it was you. Calling out to him with your illithid connection, begging for an answer.

My love, where are you? Astarion please, please tell me your there. Help me find you.

He can scarcely believe it. But he wasn't going to wait for his emotions to catch up to what could be an escape. He was screaming in his brain, trying to send out any signal that he could.

I'm here. I'm here. Don't let him take me. Please.

He could hear you in his head, the sheer relief from your mind nearly overwhelming, I'm coming. Hold on, I'm coming.

Astarion didn't even have the time to doubt. Because the next moment you were bursting through the ornate doors, nearly your entire team in tow.

Astarion had never seen you look the way you did then. He was so used to your kindness, the warmth and light that you tried to spread everywhere you went. You were always smiling, always laughing, always trying to share the same with others.

But now you were breathing hard, near feral in your posture as your eyes darted around, landing straight to the shocked Cazador. You looked murderous, vicious enough to send a shiver down Astarion's spine. Your teeth were bared, your whole body trembling with rage as you started to advance, weapons already drawn.

And in that moment Astarion was sure that you were the most gorgeous, perfect thing he had ever seen. Or ever would.

It was brutal, bloody battle. One that ended with you slitting Cazador's throat as Astarion watched in awe. You let the body fall to the ground, blasé before you finally ran to him, releasing him from his prison.

Then he was being pulled into the most crushing hug of his entire life. One that he was helpless to return. He clung to you, uncaring for their rather large audience.

He was too busy burying his face into your hair, breathing you in as you whispered into his shoulder, "Thank the Gods that you're still here."

The pain in your voice was so raw, so real. Astarion needed no other evidence to be sure that every word from the dead man's lips had been a lie. He was also positive that he had never cried this much in his life, but now it was a different kind of sob he was trying to choke back. The flood of relief was crushing, the truth that your love was real was nearly enough to destroy him all over again. Not for cruelties sake, but to make something new. To kill every last doubt he had that he was nothing, worthless. How could he be when you were here? When you came for him?

He pulled back reluctantly, smiling down at you with tear tracks on his face. He kissed your forehead, covered in sweat and blood, and gods knows what else.

It was all finally over. You both turned to the rest of the group, your hands clasped together as you made your way to where Cazador lay dead. It was satisfying to see, but such a shame that Astation wasn't the one to do the deed. A regret he'd have for the rest of his days.

Or so he thought.

But then you were turning to Shadowheart, your sweet face curling back into the disgust from earlier when you ordered, "Revive him."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as she did what she was told. Cazador came back into consciousness, in what looked to be an extremely unpleasant experience. He was coughing blood, the spell doing just enough to mend his mortal wounds, but not nearly powerful enough to give him a fraction of his strength back. He stared upwards, his eyes wide at the sight of you lording over him.

And for the first time in two hundred years, Astarion saw fear in the other man's eyes. Wonderfully delicious fear.

He felt you squeeze his hand as he stared at him, speaking quietly, "He's yours. To do with what you please. Do...do you want us here for this?"

He could hear the hidden meaning in your words. This wasn't just a choice of what to do with him. It was a choice of what to do with them all. He had taken notice that he was the only one that you had freed, his brethren still suspended in air.

He turned to you, his voice strong for the first time since he'd come back to this pit, "I want you here for this."

You nodded before looking back to the others to tell them to wait outside. They did so reluctantly, obviously without confidence in his decision making abilities. He ignored the especially worried look Karlach sent his way, too focused on the piece of vampiric trash in front of him.

Cazador was still coughing, his mouth forming more vile words, "Y-You don't have to do this. I can-"

"Silence," Astation seethed, partly surprised when it worked to shut him up. But then again, he had never been placed in a position to see his master be the one without an escape, "Your life is in my hands now. Tell me the truth. How did you find me?"

Astarion could see the fury behind his eyes, the humiliation of being ordered around by his own spawn. But his desire for life won out in the end.

"Luck," he spat out, "Sheer luck. Yomen saw you in the city, at Shar's Caress with this one. He followed you, found your camp and reported back. I sent Dalyria and Petras to fetch you, gave them a powerful sleeping scroll to knock out your allies. And then you were mine again."

Astarion shouldn't have been surprised that he had the audacity to glare at Tav, seething, "Or at least you would have been."

"And my memories?" Astarion pressed, "How did you know of us?"

"The tadpole squirming behind your eyes doesn't change the fact that I am your master," Cazador said, "Your mind is mine to shape, to understand. It was more difficult than before, yes. But I had enough to know what to say."

Of course. He should have known, "So that was your last torture then?"

"Yes," Cazador said simply, a sneer managing to appear on his bloodied face, "And you have to admit, it worked wonderfully."

"You can kill him now if you'd like," You piped up from his side, staring down at the vampire like the trash he was, "Or...you can take his place."

You hesitated for a brief moment before steeling yourself, looking Astarion in the eye, "Whatever you choose, I'll be here for you. I promise."

Astarion nodded, weighing his options. It was so very difficult to not just kill him where he laid, like the pathetic dog he was. But then again...the ritual would mean endless power. Power that he could use to protect himself, to protect you. So nothing like this could ever happen again.

Astarion looked up, his eyes searching every last one of his brothers and sisters faces. They looked scared, perhaps even resigned to their fate. Just at the hands of another. Astarion hadn't expected the image to make him feel ill, yet it did.

Could he do it? Sacrifice them all, along with everyone else trapped in the bowels of their personal hell? He could. He knows he could. Yet...

He looked back at you, the only thing he had ever loved. The one person to show him a different way to live, who was giving him the freedom to be his own person. But... he wanted that person to be someone worthy of you. Someone who would make you proud.

And there was only one way to do that. Astarion let go of your hand, reaching for the dagger you kept at your belt before striding over to Cazador. He stabbed him with little fanfare, no warning, no chances to beg. And then he did it again, and again, and again. Until he lost count, until the body of his former master was mutilated, his chest nothing but unrecognizable gore.

He wasn't quite sure when he started crying again. He only realized it when he could barely breath through his own screams, every bit of rage, hurt, and humiliation that had been beaten into him coming straight to the surface. He sunk to his knees as he sobbed, tossing the knife to the side.

The whirlwind inside of him was too much, so overwhelming that he was afraid he'd be lost to it. But then he could feel it, you wrapping your arms around him, kneeling next to him as he broke down.

He clung to you, burying his face into your neck as he cried, desperate for your comfort, your touch. You were crying too he realized, your voice breaking as you gently spoke to him, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. I love you, you did the right thing. I'm sorry."

You had nothing to apologize for, but that didn't stop your words from acting like a soothing balm to all of his internal wounds. But he would get through this. Because for the first time Astarion knew, without a shadow of a doubt he wouldn't have to get through it alone. With you by his side, he would never be alone again.

He wasn't sure how long you both spent there, kneeling in a pool of his tormentors blood. But he knew he felt different when he pulled away, changed.

Free.

He cupped your face, wiping away your tears while only managing to smear the mess about. But it didn't matter that you were both covered in blood and viscera, not when he had you.

"I love you too," Astarion whispered, finally allowing himself to unload the burden of hiding away from you. No more of that. He was yours, fully and completely, "I love you so much. I-I thought that this was it. That I'd never see you again. That you betrayed me-"

"Never," You interrupted, your voice fierce despite how it was breaking, "I never will. You're all I want, all I need. I should have been there, I'm so sorry-"

"No more apologies," Astarion murmered, pressing a quick kiss to your bloody mouth, "No more. We're here. That's all that matters."

You nodded, kissing him again, so sweet despite everything that should have made it sour. Despite his own words, Astarion couldn't help the white hot shame that passed through him. How could he have doubted you, even for a moment? Doubted this, the most beautiful that ever happened to him. Never again would he question what you had together, to let his mind be poisoned by others.

But there would be more time for the two of you later. The rest of your lives if he had anything to say about it. But for now...you freed him. And it was his turn to do the same.

Astarion pulled back, sighing as he looked around the room at his brethren. They were still hanging in the air, all privy to quite the show. He freed them, forgave them even, despite every horrid thing they'd done to eachother over the years.

But that didn't stop him from clocking Petras squarely in the face the second his feet touched the floor. The other man took it well enough, fully knowing that Astarion was capable of much, much worse. Though he was well aware that Petras had been compelled to kidnap him, it didn't change the fact that the punch was very satisfying.

As for the rest of the spawn, the thousands trapped here, he let them go as well. Down to the Underdark, where they could at least have a chance of controlling their feral nature before associating with mortals again.

Then it was time to leave this wretched place, forever. He would never be hurt here again, never controlled. He was free, finally. And with you by his side, what else could he ever ask for?

#astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 cazador #hes such a piece of shit #but I feel like this is something he would totally do #happy ending #but god damn that was rough #angst #a lot of angst #its there #front and center #long fic #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #im feeling spawn astarion man #i started this side blog for the ascended version but... #spawn is bae #female tav

[jarofstyles]

shy y/n accidentally calls harry daddy bc shes cockdrunk while theyre fucking and harry is so taken back that he cums on the spot 🫣

Omg omg omg omg

Patreon

----

Harry was convinced that Y/N was his soul mate well before it happened.

Perhaps for some, it could be considered intense, but he knew what he wanted in life. He knew he loved her by their 4th date, he knew he wanted to marry her by the 7th, and now they'd been committed to one another for about 6 months. It was incredible to have someone you just.... know is yours.

They were a bit opposite, Y/N and him. Harry was a lot more outgoing, a lot more experienced in the ropes of life, but especially sexually. Y/N hadn't done much of anything prior to Harry, and he had the honors of introducing her to a whole plethora of things. Lots of kinks they'd dipped their toes into and Y/N gave her feedback on.

She was shy beyond what he was used to, but he found it endearing. He didn't mind working her through her shyness and building her up so she felt comfortable enough to speak to him and tell him what she liked, what she wanted to try. So far, she had gone off of what Harry had admitting to liking- at least the tamer stuff- and he was more than happy with her progress. All he cared about was her comfort and pleasure.

She liked spanking with his hand, wasn't too fond of a a paddle, thoroughly mewled when he had slipped his thumb over her tightest hole, enjoyed that he was in charge and she was his sweet little baby. They'd gone slower but Harry had been more than honest with her about his likes and his preferences. Y/N appreciated honesty more than anything, even when it hurt because lies were her number one hate. The sweet girl didn't dislike much, but dishonesty was one of them.

When she had sniffed out that he had been hiding something, he was quick to fess up that he'd been a bit anxious that it would be too much or too odd for her given this conversation had happened only after the 3rd time they'd had sex, so he had admitted that he preferred a certain honorific- Daddy- and that he wouldn't ever make her feel bad for not wanting to call him that if she so chose. Y/N hadn't said much about it since.

Not until tonight.

Deep inside, Harry watched her puffy, pretty cunt spread open as she took his cock. it was sticky with her arousal and his spit, her ass recoiling when his thighs hit it. It was a glorious scene, one of the sexiest things Harry ever had the privilege of seeing with his own eyes. She was making a mess on his length, a mess of glistening slick and creamy smears that were settling on the base making the sight almost too much for Harry to handle.

Then there were the moans, the sweet, delightful little 'uh's' that left her Scarlet painted lips. He'd taken her out on a date to a lovely little restaurant and when they arrived home she had kissed him deep, leading to this moment right here. Her dress discarded across his bedroom floor and her face resting on his pillow as he fucked into her needy cunt. Sweet calls of his name, for more, for him not to stop, she was getting more and more vocal as the pleasure began to raise and he was doing everything he could to make it even better for her.

"There we go, my love." He purred. "Can feel it, you're about to cum f'me again." The encouragement always did it for her, his hand squeezing her plump ass as he pounded away into her. "Perfect little pussy for my perfect girl. M'so obsessed with you." He wanted to give her another, knowing she was going places she hadn't been before by her babbling and clenching at his pillow but she hadn't called for him to stop- if anything, she asked for more. Harry couldn't get enough, so he was holding off his orgasm just to see her do it for him.

"M'gonna, m'gonna cum, m'gonna- please, can I?" Watery eyes looked up at him, the perfect version of his destroyed sweet peach as mascara smeared slightly under her eye. "Can I cum, can I please? M'good, m'so good, m'a good girl, I need to." Her rambles only made him love her more, despite her knowledge.

"Go on, my sweet girl. Let go f'me." He cooed, continuing the pace as he watched her unfold in front of him. He could feel it, feel her rippling around his cock and the gush of her arousal as she let out a squeal. Relishing in the feeling of her trembling under him, when she said something that caught him off guard. One, whimpery, pathetic sentence that had him almost keeling over.

"D-Daddy, want your cum, let me have it, please...."

As soon as it hit him what she said, he couldn't stop himself. Balls pulling up and cock throbbing as he emptied hot cum into her, a low groan leaving his mouth as it stayed open. Feeling her orgasm start to wane but pussy stilll clenching, milking him of his cum, he was careful as he fell over and held himself on top of her, hips stuttering as he tried to gather his bearings.

His Y/N, his sweet, delicate Y/N had just called him Daddy while begging for his cum. There was no way his orgasm could have withstood it. She probably would be slightly embarrassed when she realized what she said, but he was in heaven. He hoped it showed an inner want to call him that, that it was in her mind when they were intimate because she could see him like that. At the end of the day, all he wanted to do was take care of his precious girl, make sure she was cared for and comfortable.

"There she is. My perfect angel." he panted. "Daddy's here, m'giving it all to you now." Lips pressed to her sticky cheek, nudging his nose lovingly against it. "M'all yours, forever."

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfics

[alavestineneas]

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 

-

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

-

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 

-

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

-

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

-

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 

-

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

#imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow #coryo snow #hunger games x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #president snow #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #young coriolanus snow #corio snow #character x reader #character x you #character x y/n #tbosas x reader #tbosas x you #fine as fuck

[heartss4val]

— GENERAL DATING HC'S (part two)

pairing: percy jackson, annabeth chase, leo valdez, piper mclean, jason grace, hazel levesque, frank zhang (respectively) x gn!reader word count: 3.9k

percy jackson

if anyone is boyfriend coded it's percy.

the way percy immediately squeezes your hand to call your attention the second he spots something he knows you'd love. whether it's your favorite song playing in a store, or the sight of pretty flowers in full bloom, percy's just as excited as you are !!

for some reason, percy really likes to shower you with hugs. whether you're out in public or nestled comfortably in your own cabin, he's quick to wrap his arms around you and hold you close! you can feel his warmth radiating against your skin as he presses his body close to yours, his face nuzzled snugly in the crook of your neck. he just doesn't want to let you go, at least not yet. maybe it's because he feels safe when he's holding onto you, and he doesn't want that feeling to disappear so quickly. not that you mind, though.

percy loovvees to hold your hand in public, like he literally can't get enough of it. no matter where you go, he would effortlessly slip his hand into yours, the coolness of his palm making contact with your own as you walk side by side through camp.

i feel like percy's hands are pretty cool to the touch, so during the colder months he likes to hold your hand and tuck it in his pocket to shield you from the cold. like, he doesn't want to let go, but he also doesn't want you to freeze LMAOO.

percy's kisses are varied. sometimes they're slow, sometimes they're quick or urgent, and a whole lot more. but each time, they're exhilarating. percy also has a habit of pulling and playing with your belt or waistband whenever you kiss, and it always catches you off guard, no matter how many times it happens. even when you're in the middle of doing something else, he'll grab you by the waistband and pull you in for a kiss. and when he's not tugging on it, he'll run his fingers around it, dragging his fingers around the fabric almost teasingly, LIKE GAH ZAMN.

percy lets you draw on his skateboard!! listen, i know he's only mentioned as a skater like twice in the book, but i don't care. he is a skater boy in my heart.

his skateboard is absolutely LITTERED with doodles of your favorite bands, or any other designs that came to mind, as well as temporary stickers that are already starting to fade. but percy doesn't mind at all because it looks cool and you're happy! so that's all that matters to him. he loves looking down at the marks you left on his skateboard with a stupid smile, even if it means he gets hit by a wall because he wasn't paying attention.

when percy is in love, it becomes evident in his every action. he makes it a point to look for your face throughout the day, be it in moments of triumph or defeat. he only wants for you to witness him at his best, and no amount of applause or pats on the back from others can compare to the feeling of your touch; the gentle caress of your thumb across his cheek accompanied by words of praise, are what he craves the most. :(( he wants your validation and approval, but struggles to express it, because behind his front lies just an awkward teen filled with doubts and insecurities, desperate to prove himself to you.

but when he's in the water?? in his ZONE?? that's a different story. his confidence level SOARS. his water powers are in full force, and he's flipping around in the water trying to impress you like a little kid LMAOO.

to percy, you're more than just his partner. the thought of living without you is unimaginable to him, and he refuses to even think about it. his love for you only grows with each passing day, and he swears that he couldn't love you more than already does, yet he knows that he will tomorrow.

annabeth chase

MY GF FR!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️

annabeth always loved you, but as time went on, her perspective on you began to shift. she loved the sound of your laughter, and the way you would enthusiastically recount your experiences of the day. there was something in the way your eyes would light up when you spoke, that made her heart skip a beat. at first, she didn't recognize the emotions that were building within her, but the second she tried to deny being in love with you, she realized she was.

meeting you, loving you, finally making you hers—made annabeth have a whole different perspective on love.

she always asks for your opinions first. all the time. she asks for your thoughts on her latest architectural design, questions your perspective on her favorite book. because she values YOU. your input matteres to her more than anyone else's because she knows that you understood her in a way that no one else could. (also i feel like annabeth lowkey mansplains sometimes so she's trying to make up for it lmaoo.)

if your hair is long enough to tie back, she'll match your ponytail to hers. <33 but if not, she'll run her fingers through your hair instead, twirling the edges around her finger absentmindedly. annabeth doesn't like accessories in her own hair, but she loves seeing them in yours !!

she's VERY careful when tidying up your hair. like, if you ask her to brush your hair for you, it'll take her a while because she's so particular about it. she just wants the best for you!! <3

annabeth is the best with cats idc. (doesn't she have two in ttc?) she'll kneel down to pet it, making that "pspspsps" sound to get its attention LMAOO. she'll literally scoop it up in her arms and cradle it like a baby.

if you're allergic to cats or simply don't like them, she'll keep a distance and pretend to share your dislike, meanwhile, she'll already have come up with a cute name for the cat in her head, probably something similar to your own. <33

annabeth isn't really big on pda, but she makes up for it with other acts of love !! she has a variety of love languages, each more prominent than the next, but her go-to move is holding hands. she'll gently pull you along on your museum date, explaining the origins and details of each monument with a proud smile !!

you and annabeth gossip about books. not people. and yes, i am telling the truth, she told me herself. (lie) she'll even read to you while you lay your head on her lap JUST so that you two can talk about it later.

but when it comes to architectural books, sometimes annabeth forgets that not everyone is as passionate about architecture as she is LMAOO. she'd be like, "can you believe that John Poulson bribed people for his work? i would never stoop to that level," and you'd just be sitting there with a polite smile on your face even though you have no idea wtf she's talking about. but she does it because she trusts you, not because she wants to confuse you LMAOO.

annabeth is never easily vocal when it comes to her emotions. while she can be sharp-tongued when expressing her opinions, when it comes to her feelings, most of the time she struggles to find the right words. sometimes, she's not even sure how to articulate what she's experiencing. the sudden rush of emotions she's feeling now, with you, can be overwhelming, to say the least. her love for you is intense, but annabeth wonders if it's enough to fully convey how much she loves you. if she loved you any less, maybe it would be easier for her to express herself. but the truth is, she loves you so much that it leaves her at a loss for words. a daughter of athena. at a loss for words.

leo valdez

this boy practically has permanent heart eyes for you — it's insane.

i think we all know this, but leo's definitely not one to hide his admiration for you. he's basically in a constant state of awe whenever you're around. he thinks you're the absolute prettiest person on earth, and he's LOUD about it. like, before you started dating he definitely looked up one of those cringe pick up line lists at least once in hopes of impressing you. (they didn't work.)

howeverrr, leo's affection for you runs deeper than just your physical appearance. you're not just eye candy to him. he values your inner qualities just as much as your outer ones, and he's always reminding you about it !!

mentioned this in pt 1, but this boy is an incredible cook and EVERYONE knows it. because of that, he's super perceptive when it comes to your food preferences, knowing exactly what dishes you love and those that you don't care for. he'll transfer food from his plate to yours because he wants you to enjoy your meal, and he'll and also happily devour any food that you dislike, while simultaneously insulting your taste LMAOO.

like one time you went to the bathroom, came back, and saw that the amount of your favorite food on your plate just doubled. 💀💀

leo loovvees taking photos of you. (let's pretend demigods are allowed to use phones) like, he'll snap away until his phone's storage is filled to the absolute BRIM. if you ask him to delete any unflattering ones, he'll do so but while fervently defending his collection, insisting that he takes so many pictures of you not because he's searching for the perfect shot, but because you look breathtaking from every angle. :((

in addition to his digital collection, leo also has a cherished polaroid board covered in various pictures, but the majority of them feature you. <33

leo spends a lot of time tinkering in his workshop, so if he has any scrap metal laying around (which he often does) he'll stay up late into the night creating something special just for you !!

leo looovveess kissing your cheek with a pronounced "mmMWAH!" sound. onces he's done, he'll turn his head slightly and look at you expectantly, indicating that he wants you to do the same to him. <33

he was probably the first one to say "i love you." in the relationship. he might've said it rather quickly because he was always sure about his feelings towards you even before your relationship had officially started, but he never pressured you to reciprocate. he was willing to wait for you to come to your own conclusion.

but until then, leo never stopped expressing his love for you. every morning and every night, he would whisper a giddy "i love you, mi amor" before rushing off to wherever he needed to be.

once you do finally say the words back to him though, he's grinning like an idiot for an entire two weeks. he'd often repeat his feelings for you, almost annoyingly, just to hear you say those four words he cherished the most back, 'i love you too.'

(also, this image is so leo. yes it's a green flag to me, and no i will not further elaborate.)

piper mclean

piper has a habit of linking arms with you !! like, wherever you go, the two of you are literally inseparable. she also sees it as a way to declare your relationship, because she's proud to be with you and has nothing to hide! <33 she's also a hand swinger fr.

she lets you cut her hair !!! mostly because she secretly loves the sensation of your hands on her face and your fingers weaving through her choppy locks, but also because she trusts your judgement! piper isn't afraid of alternating her appearance, but she especially want to look good for you.

speaking of alternating appearances, you two match outfits. all the time. is it sickenly cheesy? yes. do either of you particularly care? no. even when you aren't wearing matching outfits, you both have a collection of homemade matching jewelry, so both of you are always carrying a piece of each other, even if it's just a simple bracelet. <33

NICKNAMES IN FRENCH >>>> OMGG. her most used include "mon amour" meaning "my love", "mon ange" [my angel] and "ma chérie." [my dear/darling] and yes she is very much aware of the effect she has on you. <33 speaking of, she 100% helps you ace all your french exams. such a good gf.

she tells you all about her family history. piper loves how your eyes light up with genuine curiosity. with you, she feels more appreciated. :(( she'll you all about the culture, customs, and even a few traditional songs.

piper knows she has a good singing voice, but she still feels self-conscious whenever she showcases them in front of others. but when it comes to you? she'll sing all you want, since she feels a huge sense of comfort whenever you're around. whether it's through cuddles or other means, it's in your arms that she feels the most at peace, and it's also where she feels the most comfortable saying, "i love you." !!!

she teaches you how to use a dagger lmaoo. she'll carefully guide you, tell you how good you're doing (sometimes), and even sneak in a few kisses if she's feeling extra affectionate that day!!

piper hates being labeled as a typical daughter of aphrodite. she constantly feels the need to prove that she doesn't fall into the stereotype that comes with being a child of the goddess of love. but ever since you came into her life, ever since she started loving you, you taught her that she doesn't have to be ashamed just because her half-siblings fall into certain expectations. you've shown her that she should be able to be her own person without the restraints of being a daughter of aphrodite. and she might not always express it, but she's entirely grateful for that. for you. after all, we're all just fools in love, and you're the soul who showed her what love should truly be like.

jason grace

ugh, the chivalry radiating off this man is crazyy.

whenever you talk to jason, he always has a way of letting you know that he's listening to your every word. even if he's occupied with something else, he'll make a point to let you know that he is paying attention to you. he'll immediately direct his gaze towards you, and abandon whatever task he was previously engaged in, leaning in closer to you the longer you speak.

even if you try to cut your story short or apologize for repeating yourself, jason will NEVER rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. instead, he'll hold you close with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, encouraging you to keep talking and sharing your thoughts. because jason doesn't mind hearing the same stories over and over again, as long as they're coming from you. <33

and even though he's always paying full attention whenever you speak, his gaze always seems to settle on your lips. and when you smile or laugh, he's completely mesmerized, unable to take his eyes off of you !! like you can LITERALLY see his eyes widen and his lips part, as if he can't believe how beautiful you are, because he can't get enough of you.

jason is the epitome of a gentleman FR!! 🗣️🗣️ he never fails to open doors for you, give you his jacket when you're cold, and even offer his hand as you make your way down the last few steps of the stairs. but that's only the surface level, we haven't even gotten to the real deal yet okayyy??

if you so much as utter a complaint about your feet aching or your shoes being too uncomfortable, he's already kneeling down, his broad back facing you with his hands gesturing for you to climb on for a piggy-back ride. he'll be running around camp like a lunatic, carrying you on his back or in his arms, but he doesn't care because he always puts your comfort and safety first !!

and if you happen to be walking through a cramped space with him in front of you, he effortlessly lifts you up by your arms so you can pass through without any trouble! what's even more impressive is jason's lightning-fast reflexes, especially when it comes to protecting you. if something is about to fall on you, he's always there to catch it before it can even graze you. and if you happen to trip, he swiftly catches you in his arms without making a fuss !!

his protective nature extends to the battlefield as well. even though he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he fights alongside you, ready to shield you from ANY harm.

whenever you hug jason, you always get lifted off the ground a few inches. like he almost doesn't realize he's doing it as he hoists you up off the ground with EASE. while you're just dangling from his arms LMAOO.

jason never fails to express his love for you verbally every day, but he also has a way of communicating it without speaking a word. he'll naturally reaches for your hand under the table, stealing quick kisses on your shoulder when no one is watching. even the way he touches you lingers, like he doesn't want to let go. and when you catch him gazing at you, and the transition of his grin to a subtle smirk AURGHJ!!

even before you started dating, jason fell for you and is honestly still falling, wanting you more and more with each passing day. all your flaws, mistakes, and imperfections included, he wants you. and only you.

hazel levesque

hazel is the best gf ever!!! she hypes you up every chance she gets. like, she literally never misses an opportunity to boost your confidence. she finds beauty in the most subtle things, like the tiniest ring on your finger, and truly believes that you look absolutely stunning in it, even if it's not her personal taste since she grew up in a different era. but she's so open to exploring new fashion styles and modern ideas for you, and also so that you guys can match. <33

whenever hazel leans in to kiss you, there's a touch of hesitancy in her movements. not because she doesn't want to kiss you !! she just wants to make sure you're comfortable. :(( she's clearly trying to gauge your reaction and make sure that everything is going well.

she worries that maybe she was too rough last time, (SHE WASN'T AT ALL LMAOO) or that she's moving too slowly this time around. you honestly find it cute how she worries about such small things, and in response, you wrap your arms around her and kiss her back, immediately dispersing ALL her concerns. <33

hazel is soo pretty in red lipstick omg. the way she leaves lipstick prints on your cheeks and playfully pecks at the skin on your neck while laughing is so cute!

hazel wants the absolute best for you! but don't underestimate her, this is the same girl who died to stop gaea at 13, okay? she's so brave. she respects all your boundaries and will always prioritize your safety and comfort first!

horseback riding. all the time. hazel is the only valid horsegirl. she'll go on and on about them, from their behavior and habits to their history.. but nothing makes her happier than seeing you genuinely interested in what she has to say!! she feels so special around you. :(( you've spend countless afternoons horseback riding with hazel. it's definitely one of your favorite pastimes now.

hehe i can definitely see you sharing your interests to her, and even introducing her to modern music/bands. it's probably a shock for hazel to switch time periods and witness the evolution of music. like, there are times when modern songs makes her all shy and stuff. but your love for it has definitely been able to sway her perspectives! she probably picks up matching band shirts or records as souvenirs when returning from her quests. <33

hazel loves hugs !! they often begin with excitement, both of you giggling like children. but as time passes, the embrace transforms into a soft and quiet hold. there's always a subtle competition between the two of you to see who will let go first, and hazel always emerges as the winner. <33

if forever does exist, hazel wants it to be you. her heart is overflowing with a million emotions, all of which are directed towards you. through your gentle guidance, she's learned to appreciate the beauty in even the most ordinary moments. the thought of losing you is unbearable. she never wants to let go of you. not now. not ever.

frank zhang

your guys' first date was definitely at an arcade/amusement park! he's hardcore blushing the entire time, while you totally crush him at all the activities. (he let you win) and, to top it off, he made sure to win you some impressive, oversized stuffed animals at the end!!

frank would pay close attention to all the details about you. like he literally knows stuff that you don't even remember telling him. 💀 even if you mention something in passing conversation, he'll make a mental note of it and remember it later on.

protective!frank standing up for others. anyone he cares about, including his friends and you. :(( he's not an angry person, sometimes he's even a little timid, so seeing him all loyal & passionate for those he loves really makes your heart swell up.

frank also leaves you sweet little notes frequently, and goes out of his way to get you lunch or anything else you might need !! sometimes after a long day, he'll come up behind you and wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder and asking about your day. <33

bear hugs are frank's thing. both literally and figuratively. he's the kinda person who would wrap his arms around you, and if you don't object, he'll keep holding you tightly while taking a few steps to maintain balance. and before you know it, you'll both be tumbling onto the couch or his bed, with his chest breaking your fall. but instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable, both of you start laughing, with frank hugging your waist even tighter in affection. <33

frank is really protective but in a subtle, non-verbal way. like, he has a habit of wordlessly moving you to the safer side of the sidewalk. and, even if it is not yet dark outside, frank will insist on walking you home, making sure that you arrive safely. he doesn't want to be overbearing, but he's also just genuinely concerned about your safety. :((

frank isn't really a pda guy, but he absolutely adores hand holding! it's a subtle way of indicating that he's yours and you're his. also, there's just something comforting about the feeling of your palm against his, and he finds himself tracing the curvatures of your hand as like it's a map he's trying to memorize. it's a small gesture, but it means the world to him !!

frank does almost every subtle manner. oh, you need a hair tie? he's pulling off one of yours from his wrist. having trouble carrying groceries? he's already there. it's like he has a 6th sense for when you're even slightly uncomfortable.

you're frank's safe place. he can literally feel his worries and fears melt away as you hold each other. you're all he ever wanted love to be, and he knows that as long as he lives, he'll love you.

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson fluff #pjo imagine #riordanverse x reader #annabeth chase x reader #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x reader #piper mclean x reader #frank zhang x reader #hazel levesque x reader

[americaswritings]

Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part II

Warnings: I haven't read the book (yet), Coriolanus thoughts, mentions of poverty, mentions of violence

Summary: Coriolanus thought he would never see you again after you won the Games and he got banished to the districts. But when he does, he is left to question whether or not he can imagine a life with(out) you.

Words: around 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: You all asked for it so here it is: Part 2! Thank you so much for all the love on the first one. It truly blew me away!! I really hope you like this part just as much. I tried to capture Coriolanus inner conflict here. Also there will be a third and final part! :)

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part I | Masterlist

He hadn't thought he would ever see you again. Not after the gamemaster had sent for him once the games were over and he had found the evidence against him placed on a table.

Evidence that he had helped you, although the rules forbid it.

He had known. There was no denying that and it was below his dignity to pretend so. There was nothing he could say. Nothing he could do except stare at that evidence and wonder if it had been worth it.

If you had been worth it. Ruining his life.

As he had watched you crumble under his painfilled screams in the arena he had been sure to have ruined yours, but now he figured it might have been mutual.

It was what happened in the games, was a part of it. Only he had never been one and there was a sick feeling inside of him as he thought of how he had been used, had used you, had used resources to save you despite the knowledge that it crossed a line.

It was easy to watch the games and all the ways they manipulated people. Turned children into killers and brought out the deepest, darkest parts of humans. How they got manipulated in turn, by the gamemakers and the capitol. Even their mentors. And sometimes how they manipulated the public and the capitol in an act of quiet revolution.

It was oddly fascinating in a way, to see through those lies and perceptions and untangle them. Like they were all pieces on a chess board and he just had to watch them push each other around, taking out one by one.

But to find out that he had been a part of it too, that he had been played made him feel like just another pawn.

But you had won. Even if he would pay the price for it now, he had gotten you through the games. It filled him with pride and a little...relief to know that he had kept his promise.

He hated not knowing if you were safe now, but at least he had held his word. If something happened to you now, it wasn't on him.

But then why was there no comfort in that thought?

Why did there seem to be no comfort ever again, with you gone and his life torn to shreds. All his hopes and dreams crushed within one night.

Had it been worth it?

It didn't matter if he had done it for the scholarship or to save you. But then why did he suddenly feel filled with doubts?

All his life there had only been two colours: black and white. There was no grey, because he firmly believed in wright or wrong. He thought it pathetic when people weeped over the games and how tragic they were, yet found the uttermost entertainment in them.

The games served a purpose and they promised him one of his own, a university career, so he served them. It didn’t matter what he thought about it.

But now he seemed captured in between those two opposites. He knew rationally that it had been wrong to manipulate your chances so you could win. And he saw now where it had gotten him.

But wouldn't he do the same again?

Being with you, gazing into your eyes and wishing you were by his side was wrong. You came from two different worlds and the odds were against you. But then how had he turned into this man, thinking about a woman, letting his feelings guide his decisions and cloud his judgement?

And it went beyond the grey.

When you had stepped into his life you had introduced colours to it he had never seen before.

Red, not the university red, but the colours of your lips, the blood driping down your arms.

Blue, not the lifeless district blue, but the dress you had worn when you had sang during your interview and he haid laid in a hospital bed, mesmerized by your every word and sound.

Brown, the colour of dirt and poverty, but seemed to exist in uncountable shades on you.

And now that had all been ripped from him, just because he had played smarter than the other students.

His days as a peacekeeper were as dull and lonely as he had expected. He kept his gaze narrow, his weapon close and he didn't let his mind wander.

Because then he would mourn all he had lost and it would turn to anger. Fury. A turmoil of emotion he didn't know how to handle.

Sometimes he wondered if his life had only existed in polarity before and you had shown him spectra and ranges he had never learned to balance.

And it made him mad. At you. Because how dare you show him what love and lust felt like, how light it made him feel and how there seemed nothing else to exist in his thoughts anymore, only to rip it all away and show him the other side of it. The loss and the grief, the uncertanity and fear. The lacking.

Sometimes he wondered if he was going mad. Here he was damned to a life in the districts, a simple life, despite knowing he had been born for big things. It was in the name. Snow lands on top.

He pretended to be numb and hollow on the outside, but inside of him raged a storm of emotions that broke him bit by bit. Soon there would be not much left of his pride. To his sanity.

He had convinced himself he wasn't thinking about you anymore.

That his dreams of you were just evidence of his growing madness. And that the hopelessness he felt when he persuaded himself you were likely somewhere far away and not thinking of him anymore didn't exist.

But all the lies he had build opon came crashing down when he caught a glance of that blue, that red and brown and he knew. Knew without a doubt.

His hand was locked around your wrist before he could think about the movement and he dragged you away and into a dark alley, his big hand clasped over your mouth to swallow your screams and his body trapping yours against the wall.

His gaze flickered around to make sure no one saw you, then he allowed himself to look at you.

Your eyes were wide open, staring at him in a mixture of shock, fear and disbelief. Carefully he lowered his hand, his hand tangling in your hair. He had always wanted to do that.

But he didn't step away. He needed to make sure this was real, that you were real. “You're here."

You swallowed, eyes flickering over his face and then the uniform. You frowned, then carefully touched his head. "Your hair- it's gone."

"Not completely."

"It's short." You smiled and he felt his lips curve into one as well, all previous anger swallowed by the reality that you were here. That he hadn't lost everything. He had you know.

"Why are you here? Why are you one of them?" He ignored the way your tone changed and you practically spit out the word. "They found out how I helped you. It was against the rules."

He couldn't keep to himself any longer, not after he had fantasised about you for so long and his hand travelled over your neck, your jaw, cupped your cheek.

Finally, you were his.

He would have leaned down and kissed you, but the look in your eyes stopped him. "I thought you were hurt. I- I thought you were dead!"

Tears were shimmering in the soft light that the moon cast over your face and he caught them and wiped them away with his thumb when they spilled over your cheeks.

"It wasn't my voice in the arena. They used the birds to-" "I know that!" You let out a breath. "But everything they said- you said that to me. Word by word."

He waited silently for you to continue. "But then the screams-" "They weren't real", he tried to soothe you, but you shook your head. "But if everything else was, then...", you trailled of, but he knew what you thought anyway.

"They manipulated you. That's why they used my real words against you, to convince you that it was really me, my voice, so that you would believe everything."

"So they didn't-" You looked at him with so much fear that he almost smiled. "They didn't do anything to me. I sat there watching like I did the whole time."

"But then...how they did to it? And how did they listen to us all this time?"

He knew what you were really asking. Had he known? Had he known about it, but never thought it important enough to mention or worse had he intentionally not told you, because of his own motifs?

Shaking his head slightly he let out a sigh. "I don't know", he admittted. "How do they do anyting?"

You looked at him a second longer before nodding, deciding that you would trust him.

His hand ran down your arms now and he noted in satisfaction that you shivered under the touch. He was sure it had nothing to do with the cold.

"Where were you? After you won?"

After he had yelled at the game master to let you out. Many times.

"Here and there." You shrugged, but he wanted to know more. Needed to know more.

“That's not enough."

Would it ever be? Now that he was in the district and you were here too. Was that enough?

It wasn't the big house, the uniform and status. It wasn't Tigris smile. And it wasn't power.

It was just you and him, a whole lot of dirt, hunger and sickness. Lacking. Was that a life he could settle for?

Until now this had only been a station in his life. He would get back to the capitol and claim what belonged to him or else he would not see a future for himself.

But now things were different.

"I didn‘t know where to go. I thought after the games my life would be different, but I am still here and everything's the same except that I'm a killer.“

You closed your eyes and an expression of pain crossed your face. He let out a breath as he tried to soothe away the frown. "Don't say that." "But it's true." You looked at him with loathing in your eyes.

"You gave me the tools to kill and I used them. We’re both guilty."

"So? Everyone is. It's what needed to be done." He didn't get your fuss. All that mattered was you and him and you had gotten that.

"I would still make the same choices." "You would?" He nodded. "You matter more than them."

You frowned, heaviness in your eyes. "I don't." "To me you do."

It was true. He didn't know much, didn't understand these new feelings, but this one thing he could promise you was the truth.

Closing your eyes you leaned your foreheads against each other's, finding a glimmer of peace in each others presence. "To me you do too."

It was barely above a whisper, but he opened his eyes to search yours. For a moment you were locked in each other's gazes, but even though it felt like it in this moment, you would never have all the time in the world.

Cupping your cheek a final time Coriolanus closed the distance between you.

Your lips were dry and tasted a little like salt where the tears had touched them, but he savoured the feeling. Your body was trapped between the wall and his and he wanted to explore every part of it, make you completely and utterly his.

The kiss was all shades and ranges of colour he didn‘t know existed and he only knew he wanted more of it. It was addicting, this new feeling that only you seemed to hold the key to.

When you broke apart a sad smile hung on your lips. Before he could ask you about it you cast your eyes down. "They are talking about us. In the capitol. When they used your voice and I...fell for it- they made it into a whole story."

He closed his eyes. He had considered that possibility, yet he hated how he felt the control slipping from him. He had always contained an image and now he felt like other people were deciding it.

"They will forget about it." "They won't. You know it. I can't ever go back."

When he opened his eyes again he saw shock and understanding in yours. "But you...want to go back", you concluded and he didn't deny it. It had always been the scholarship for him, the way up.

He was a Snow, born into greatness. It was his duty to claim what should have been his all along.

You ducked away and took a step to the side, bringing a distance between your bodies he hated.

"This is not my life." You knew that, didn‘t you? Or had you expected him to give up everything for what…love? This feeling of lightness and colour and sweetness?

Even if it gave him a flicker of lust and the power he yearned for, it was not the same.

Because even if your love was strong enough, it would never exist without hunger, worry and a job below his worth. And he was tired, so tired of living like that.

That was why he had taken on the mentorship in the first place. Why he had even gone to such lengths to get the public to pay attention to you and then to save you.

For a different life. A better one. A life in the district was far from it.

Your eyes flickered around as you took in your own district. The one he had spent his last money on just for the possibility to see you again.

And you were standing right in front of him, yet you seemed even farer away now than you had in the arena.

"But it's mine."

Silence settled between you as both of you considered the meaning of your words.

"So all of this...for nothing? You say all these things to me, that you won't let me die and that I'm different and then you break the rules to save me only for what?!"

You shook your head furiously. Desperately. "So you can go back to the capitol and pretend this never happened?!"

He should have felt outrage, but for the first time since he had been sent to the gamemaster and learned his fate he felt numb inside.

"No."

You stared at him in bewilderment, your face a portrayal of the storm of emotion he had felt trapped inside of him for so long. "I would never pretend", he took a stride towards you.

“You changed me. And I think I changed you."

His hands found your face again and to his own surprise you let it happen. "We belong with each other."

You stared at him, a deep sadness in your eyes as you silently shook your head.

"Only not in this world", you whispered, ducking away from his touch and disappearing into the shadows without another word.

He stood there, staring at the spot you had vaished, a part of him leaving with you.

Part 3

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[roosterforme]

Go Big or Go Home | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Once your husband gets going, it's hard to reel him in again. Now that you've told everyone that you're pregnant, you realize he's always going to go a little over the top for you and the baby. But you let him get away with it, because nothing feels quite as important as the love he has for you.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight angst, pregnancy topics

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You sat in a lounge chair on your back patio, sipping some Gatorade in your oversized sunglasses and watching your sweaty husband doing yard work. He started out an hour ago with a shirt on, but he discarded that in favor of showing off his glistening torso for your entertainment. At least that's what you told yourself. 

"Roo! Come take a break!"

Bradley turned and looked at you as he wiped his brow with his forearm. "Sweetheart. No breaks. I want to get as much done as I can around here now so you don't have to worry about it later."

You sighed. He was going to wear himself out with projects leading up to his deployment. You loved that he wanted to leave you without a dripping faucet in the kitchen and without weeds in the backyard, but sending him off away in a few days if he wasn't well rested was going to spell disaster.

"If I need something done while you're away, I'll call Jake or Cam."

Bradley scoffed but dropped the rake he was using and headed your way in his low slung jeans. "I can't let another man do my yard work. That absolutely goes against guy code." He started to lean down for a kiss, and he smelled so good, you moaned before he even touched you. "Hey now," he said with a smirk, pausing a few inches from your lips. "I have an idea."

"Tell me," you whined.

His smirk grew. "Something that might successfully lure me away from my projects?"

"Yes, we can fuck," you told him immediately, but instead of kissing your lips, he chuckled and dropped to his knees next to your lounger and ran his nose along your shirt. 

"Hold that thought, because we will be doing that later." He nudged the shirt fabric up until his lips met the bare skin of your belly, kissing his new favorite spot on your body. "Hey, little Nugget," he whispered, and your heart melted as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair. "Think Mommy will go for our scheme?"

You laughed. "You're scheming with the baby? Already?"

"Oh yeah," he told you with a serious nod. "Here's what we're gonna do."

"This should be good," you muttered as he kissed you one more time before pulling your shirt back down.

"How about instead of chores, we spend the rest of the day shopping for baby stuff?"

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You were just barely into your second trimester, and it felt early to be buying too many things at this point, but the eager look on Bradley's face had you agreeing. "I'll let you pick out one thing."

His eyes lit up, and you should have known what was coming. "Let's make it five things."

"Bradley," you groaned, and he started kissing your lips in earnest until you giggled. "Fine! Three things! Final offer!"

"Sold."

-----------------------------

"I love this store," Bradley said as he held your hand and walked around the enormous baby depot.

"You've only been here one time!" you reminded him. "And we were shopping for a gift for someone else's baby."

He recalled that day perfectly. It was when you and he both admitted you wanted kids, and he hadn't stopped thinking about expanding his family with you since then. "I still love it," he said, pulling you toward the baby clothes. He desperately wanted to buy his child their first outfit, but he didn't know what would be suitable. Something told him he'd know what he wanted when he saw it.

The main issue he was having right now was your libido. He'd skipped a shower in favor of coming right here, and somehow you seemed even worse than usual. Even more wound up. "You smell so good," you whispered, pressing yourself against him as soon as he stopped to look around. Even as he throbbed for you, he told himself he needed to stay on task.

"Baby Girl, I will let you do anything you want to me," he swore, and your eyes glittered. "Later. After I pick out my three things for the Nugget."

"Well, hurry up," you whispered, running your fingers low on his abs while he looked at some onesies. "I'm horny."

He kissed the top of your head and guided you along. "I know you are. I won't leave you hanging." And he wouldn't. He'd be gone soon, sent away to some undisclosed location for some undisclosed amount of time where he'd have no access to you or the Nugget. He'd give you everything you wanted and needed right now, but this little shopping trip was something for him. He needed this. There was always the fear in the back of his mind that he might not return. 

"These are cute sunglasses," you mused, still running one hand along his body. "Little aviators."

Bradley felt like his insides were going to melt as you held up the tiniest pair of sunglasses he'd ever seen in his life. "Holy shit," he muttered when you handed them to him. "These are fucking adorable, Sweetheart. Good find. Our baby is going to look so damn cool."

"What did I tell you about swearing so much?" you said as you rubbed your face on his shirt. Bradley knew you were a ticking time bomb at the moment. He needed to make his selections and get you out before you started to whine for him.

"I'll fucking behave," he replied, making you laugh. And that was when he saw it. The perfect onesie. His child needed to have it. He made a beeline toward the shelf and snatched it up as you followed behind him.

"That's cute!" you said, running your fingers along the airplane and the clouds that spelled out Aim for the Sky. The clothing sizes went by months, which was very confusing to him. Surely the baby wouldn't be growing that fast? Needing new clothing every few weeks?

"Just to be sure," he muttered, grabbing the onesie in several sizes. "Okay, that's item number one of three."

"Technically that looks like four items to me, Bradley. Why are you getting so many onesies?"

"In case the Nugget grows at super speeds. I'm going to want to take a million photos of this outfit."

When he gave you his saddest eyes, you groaned and said, "Fine. Nugget's first outfit has been acquired. Pick two more items, and we can go home and get in bed."

With a grin, he started to lead you around the store. He wanted to get the baby a toy, but he wasn't sure which would be the best. Jake had been telling him about everything he wanted to buy for Jeremiah, and some of it sounded fun, but once again, he wanted the Nugget to have something unique. One of a kind. Only the best shit for his kid.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed, thrusting the onesies and aviators into your hands and running to the end of the aisle. "That's it!" He was hitting the enormous box with his palm over and over again. "Look at this! It's perfect!"

"Roo, it's five hundred bucks, and the baby won't even be able to use it for a few years," you warned, but it was too late. He was already sliding the box from the shelf and carrying it to the front of the store. "Bradley!"

"It's one of my three items! Now help guide me. This thing is massive."

With great joy, he paid for the orange Bronco Power Wheels and carried the box out to his full sized blue Bronco and fit it in the back while you held the bag containing the onesies and sunglasses. "I am so afraid to ask what your third item is going to be," you said as he struggled to make the box fit. But he had an idea. He'd had an idea for ages. It was part of the reason he had been trying to clean up the backyard a little bit more and even out the soil next to the shed.

When he closed the tailgate, he kissed your forehead gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he said calmly as he buckled you in the passenger seat and leaned down to kiss your belly. "The Nugget and I know exactly what to get."

You rolled your eyes and then asked what he was scheming up now. You asked the entire way home what he was going to buy, and he was only able to finally distract you once he had his clothes off in the bedroom. "Don't worry about it, Baby Girl. Worry about the fact that you won't be able to walk straight in half an hour."

----------------------------

Bradley never told you what else he was going to buy, but later that night, you had the suspicion that it had already been purchased. You spent the evening with him out in the garage, sitting on his bench press and eating a bag of pretzels while he put the Power Wheels together on a tarp on the floor. 

"Can't leave the baby out," he muttered as he screwed the doors on. "Now we all have our own Bronco."

He looked adorable, his hair messy from how you'd had your fingers tangled in it, and the eager look on his face was something you'd desperately miss when he was gone. "The box says ages three to seven," you reminded him before you bit into a pretzel, but he just grunted in response. "And what if the Nugget doesn't like Broncos?" you asked just to tease him, earning a glare in response.

"The baby will have impeccable taste," he muttered, turning the page in the instruction booklet. "Broncos and hot sauce and airplanes."

You waited a few seconds until he looked very distracted, and then you softly asked, "What's the third thing you bought?"

He hummed as he located the set of screws he would need for the hood. "You'll see soon enough. It's being delivered tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Monday. He was leaving on Wednesday. "It's not something big that will need to be assembled like the Power Wheels, right?" He had the guiltiest expression on his face as he turned to look up at you. "Right?" you repeated. "Bradley!"

You got your answer the following morning when you were squeezing into your new uniform pants which were a size larger than your old ones. You were dreading the thought of having to start wearing a maternity uniform to work and went with new pants to buy yourself some time. You froze with your zipper halfway pulled up and called out to Bradley in the kitchen. "What's that sound?"

"Uh... it's the third thing for the Nugget being delivered," he replied, and you immediately headed for your front door and the repetitive beeping sound coming from outside. "Don't freak out," he said as he came up behind you as you wrenched the front door open. 

Bradley had already seemingly moved both Broncos to the street in anticipation of the forklift that was moving wooden pallets wrapped up in plastic onto the driveway. "Do I even want to know?" you whispered as the forklift backed up to scoop another pallet off of the truck that was parked in the middle of your street. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and let his hands rest on your bloated belly while he nuzzled your ear. "It's a thirty-seven piece jungle gym playset for the backyard."

"A thirty-seven piece...."

"The Nugget and I both really wanted it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as your dog plopped down next to your feet, and the three of you watched the forklift make several more trips up the driveway. "Don't you dare try to buy anything else right now. Do you understand me?"

---------------------------

Nothing says 'Bradley's child' quite like baby's first Bronco. And he's so precious, he's already built the thing. He's been daydreaming about the playset for long enough that it was bound to happen, too. Let's send him on this deployment and get him back home to his wifey and his Nugget. Stay tuned for more! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #go big or go home

[lovingmattysposts]

Quiet 5

P1 P2 P3 P4 P6 P7 P8

pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo

summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk.

warnings: mentions of being scarcely thin, mentions of lack of food, toxic household

—————————————————————

Matt and I walked out of his room back into the living room where Chris and Nick were still talking.

"You don't know her Chris"

"Neither do you! I'm just saying that--"

I cleared my throat and they both haulted their conversations and turned to us. I looked over at Matt who held a firm gaze on them, his eyebrows low. I swallowed and shifted on my feet suddenly feeling very unwelcome.

I turned Matt.

"Hey, I'll see you tomorrow right?" I mumbled hugging my arms to myself. Matt broke his gaze on his brothers and turned to me. He just blinked at me for a second and then pushed off his feet and walked up to Chris.

Chris looked down at him. Matt pulled out his phone before typing something out on it and showed it to him. Chris glanced over the screen and looked up at him.

"Why?" He asked. I just looked between them as Matt typed on his phone again and brought it up to Chris's face. Chris looked to Matt and shook his head. Matt glared at him.

What was going on?

Matt typed again. Chris looked at the phone. Chris glanced over to me and my eyes widened.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" He asked unenthusiastic at me. My mouth opened and I looked at Matt who wore a sympathetic glance. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt goosebumps appear on my arms.

"Uh, No it's okay" I said quickly shaking my head. One dinner with Chris and he might jump across the dinner table and strangle me. Nick stepped forward.

"Please stay. I'll cook, I'm a good cook. Matt's never complained" Nick smiled brightly at me. I blinked towards Matt who rolled his eyes. Obviously Matt never complained because he didn't speak.

I still thought it was too much, I didn't want to take their food. The sandwhich Matt gave me was too much in the first place. I shook my head quickly.

"No, It's okay. I think....I think my dad--He is gonna pick up something. He'll be waiting on me" I lied, badly. I didn't even know when I went home if my dad would be there, let alone have food waiting for me. My stomach growled at the thought.

Nick studied my eyes.

"I'll be fine, I don't need your food" I said softly shaking my head. Chris sighed and looked at me. "Just stay" He mumbled the least condescending thing he's said to me all day. I took in a breath and looked at Matt who's eyes pleaded with me.

I swallowed.

"Uh, okay. Fine" I nodded. "Thank you" I whispered, looking between them. Nick smiled and nodded as he walked into the kitchen. Chris just shook his head as he followed. And Matt smiled at me.

I smiled back.

-

I felt eyes on me as I ate. I glanced up as I shoved yet another spoon full of food into my mouth. I set it down before meeting Nick's eyes.

"Is it good?" He chuckled at the speed of which I ate. I wiped the napkin against my face. "Yeah, I love pasta" I breathed chuckling awkwardly. Matt shook his head smiling down at his plate.

The dinner was nearly ending and I had basically licked my plate clean. I wasn't lying. The pasta was incredible. I hadn't had homemade food since my mom got sick over a year ago.

I sighed as I pushed my plate away from me and the boys around me continued to eat. I would have been self consciousabout how fast I devoured the meal, but I was too hungry to care. I hadn't eaten at all that day and I didn't know where my next meal would be.

"Did you take your medicine?" Chris looked up from his plate looking at Matt. Matt looked up from chewing and looked at Chris. He just blinked at him.

"You're suppose to take it with food" He said pointing to his plate. Matt looked away from his clenching his jaw. I just looked between them.

"Did you take it?" He asked again. Matt set his fork down and nodded raising his eyebrows, sending daggers at his brother.

"Okay, Jeez. I was just asking, don't have to get all defensive." Chris mumbled looking back down and shoving his plate away. I looked over at Matt and he stared at the table before pushing off his chair and walking towards his room.

Nick turned his head as he walked away. Chris just shook his head.

"You're not his mother, Chris. He can take care of himself, he knows when to take it" Nick glared at Chris. Nick stood up taking the plates off the table.

"He actually can't, Nick. If we--"

"Don't. We have a guest" Nick looked at me before wondering off towards the sink. Chris looked over at me. I just stared back at him. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"So what's your deal?" He asked blaniently. My mouth opened as I stared at me. "My deal?" I asked pointing to myself. You're the one treating me like i'm some random bully-bitch, my mind screamed.

He pursed his lips as his eyes ran over me and all the sudden I felt like I was naked sitting in front of him, I felt so vulnerable. I shifted in my seat. He met my eyes again.

"You don't have food at home" He stated. It wasn't a question. I blinked at him and I felt my cheek redden.

"No I-I do" I nodded looking at him, crossing my arms over my chest. He blinked at me and raised his eyebrows.

Had Matt told him that? Matt didn't even really know that.

"You devoured that meal like it was going to disappear if you didn't eat it in under 3 minutes, you're skin and bones, and you're a bad liar" He tilted his head. I smacked my lips together and looked down.

I didn't know I was that transparent. I took in a breath and turned my embarrassment into anger.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to comment on women's bodies?" I breathed glaring at him. His gaze didn't lighten.

"My mother's dead"

My glared dropped and I sat up. "Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry" I shook my head. He just looked at me and sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry for being such an ass eariler, I shouldn't have--" He sighed, as If this apology was a lot for him. He glanced to the empty seat next to me.

"I misjudged you and I'm sorry" He muttered. I blinked up at him. I shook my head as I played with my fingers. "How do you know you misjudged me? You don't even know me" I mumbled. He licked his lips.

"I've never seen Matt smile so much in one sitting" He stated. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "That's how I know I was wrong" He said. I just looked at him.

Matt walked back into the kitchen and slammed the empty pill bottle in front of Chris. Chris looked up at him. Matt raised his eyebrows. Chris stood up and took the pill bottle and rattled it in front of Matt before walking off.

Matt glared at him before looking back towards me. I smiled softly up at him. I stood up before wiping my hands on my jeans. I blinked up at Matt.

"I should go, my dad's probably waiting" I stated. He wasn't. I knew he wasn't. Nick turned around looking at me. "Can I help? Before I go?" I asked as I began to walk toward Nick washing the dishes. He shook his head.

"No, you go. Thanks for coming, try not to steal anymore bandaids" He chuckled. My eyes widened as I glanced over at Matt who furrowed his eyebrows looking at Nick. I swallowed and wrapped my arms around myself.

"Yeah, I'll try" I whispered before walking towards the door. Matt walked behind me before I opened the door. He stepped outside with and I looked up at him.

"Your brothers are nice" I smiled. He tilted his head. I smiled and closed my eyes. "Nick's nice...Chris is....intense" To say the least. Matt nodded. I sighed as I looked away from the house.

"I'll go" I mumbled. "See you tomorrow" I whispered. His mouth parted as I turned from him and walked down the steps. I heard him walk behind me. I turned around and he blinked at me.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He motioned for me to walk. I turned and walked, I heard his footsteps behind me before he walked beside me. I paused and turned to him again.

"Matt, what are you doing?" I asked again. He looked up and motioned around us. To the fact that it was dark. I looked back at him.

"You don't have to walk me home" I shook my head. He just looked at me with a blank expression. I closed my eyes and sighed and turned to walk. He walked with me, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked next to me.

We walked in silence for a few minutes but I couldn’t help but feel a fire in my chest from Nick’s comment. I didn’t want Matt to know about that. The fact that I stole in general. Let alone from the place his brother worked at.

“I didn’t steal those bandiads because I just wanted to steal. I just….needed them” I defended myself. Matt looked up from the ground and his eyes burned in me.

I wrapped my arms around myself as we walked and I stayed staring at the ground in front of me.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m going to steal from you or your brothers, I would never do something like that Matt I swear—“ I shook my head. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“I’m not a thief” I whispered.

I didn’t want him to judge me, but he had to have been. I mean who wouldn’t? Stealing is wrong. What I did was wrong. And I knew that. Matt probably knew that too.

He didn’t say anything but he watched me. I didn’t dare look up at him. I didn’t want to read his eyes, because I knew what they were going to tell me.

I felt him pull my arm loose from my around my body. I looked up and his hand slid into mine. I looked down at our hands and then up to him, he just looked forward.

I smiled softly. It was his way of saying:

It’s okay I’m not judging you

I smiled towards the ground.

As we approach my house I felt bad butterflies sworn my stomach. I didn't want him to see my house. My house was big enough for me and my dad, that was it. His house was big enough for an entire family. I swallowed as I stared at my shoes hitting the pavement.

But when we got there. He didn't say anything. He barley looked at my house. He just smiled as I walked into my house and then turned on his feet to walk back.

-

"Do you know Jake Andrews?"

He looked up at me holding my gaze and then looked back towards his book. He shrugged. I nodded and looked back to my book. The only sounds between us were the sounds of his pencil scrapping against the paper.

I tapped my foot as I stared ay book page. I couldn't focus. There was a hockey game tonight and I knew Jake was playing and I half-way told him that I would go. I bit my lip as I read the same words on the page over and over.

It was back then when I-It was back then when I-It was back then when I-

I tapped my foot faster.

I looked up when I felt his hand cover over on my leg, stilling the tapping. His eyes focused in on his page, his glasses swooped on his nose. He lifted his hand from my knee without looking over at me, after he stilled my tapping. My knee burned where he touched me.

"Sorry" I quickly mumbled realizing my tapping must have annoyed him. He didn't react. I set my book down realizing I wasn't getting anywhere with reading the same line over and over again.

"Do you ever go to the hockey games?" I asked turning to him. He sighed and set down his pencil and gave me his full attention.

"Sorry" I shook my head realizing he was trying to focus. I lifted my book and stuck my nose in between the pages.

He reached over and set down my book. I looked over at him and he raised his eyebrows. I brought my knees up to my chest.

"Did you know Jake was on the hockey team?" I asked. He pursed his lips and shrugged. I looked down at the table.

"He wants me to come to his game" I mumbled. Matt stared at me. I rested my chin on my knee before tilting my head towards him.

"Will you go with me? I mean--If I went to the game?" I asked him. He stared at me as if contemplation crossed his face.

He shrugged.

I swallowed and looked down. "I think he wants to be my friend" I stated. I felt Matt's gaze burn into me. I looked up at him he just slowly shook his head. "What?" I asked. He just shook his head.

"Do you not like him or something?" I asked. He sighed and shrugged, annoyance crossing his face. I sighed and picked up my book as I looked at the page.

"Well I think he's nice" I breathed. Matt looked up from his page and looked at me. I didn't turn to look back at him.

-

I smiled as I pushed the doors of the gym open. Matt followed reluctantly behind me. I pulled the jacket tightly over myself as I turned around to look at him.

"This is fun right? I've never been to a hockey game before" I smiled up at him. Blank stare. I smiled and grabbed his arm as I drug him towards the bleachers. He tensed under my touch.

I sat down and he sat next to me as the players skated on the ice in front of us. I looked over at Matt who watched the players on the ice. I shrugged the jacket off my shoulders.

"Do you want your jacket back? I think it's colder in here than outside" I chuckled as I pulled my arm out. He looked down at me and shook his head. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Are you sure?" I asked. He nodded and leaned back.

I pulled the jacket back over me.

"Suit yourself" I mumbled as I looked back towards the ice. My eyes grazed over the players. I spotted one with longer, flowy blonde hair. I tilted my head as he turned. It was Jake. I smiled and he glanced over the bleachers before his eyes landed on me.

He smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back. He turned before he skated in position to start the game.

"See" I leaned over to Matt. "He's nice" I smiled. He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip nodding sarcastically. I pushed him. "Don't be rude" I chuckled. He looked away.

Matt stood up and I looked up at him. He pointed towards the concession stand. I nodded and looked back towards the game. He pointed towards me. I looked up.

"I don't want anything" I shook my head. He just blinked at me for a second before he walked off the bleachers without another word, as I refocused on the game. The puck went into the air and they fought for it.

I didn't really know how hockey worked, and I didn't even know how to skate. Honestly the sport of hockey seemed hard to someone liked me. I couldn't really tell where the puck was, they moved to fast for me to see.

A few minutes passed before Matt came back and handed me an apple. I looked up at him.

"I didn't ask for anything" I said. He sighed and sat down before pulling out his phone and typing something. He moved his phone over to show me.

They didn't have any strawberries, blueberries, or blackberries.

I smiled and chuckled before remembering our previous conversation about my fruit chocies. I shook my head as I took a bite of the apple.

"You have to stop feeding me" I smiled shaking my head. “But thank you” I smiled leaning into him briefly. He just looked down at me. I lifted off of him and leaned forward. He blinked at me for a second before he opened his bottle of Pepsi.

The game wasn't much of anything. It was a back and forth of angry men hitting each other and a puck sometimes going into the goal. I would have been bored out of my mind If I wasn't thinking about what to say to Jake after the game.

If he even wanted to talk to me. If he had other friends waiting to talk to him. Not that he considered me a friend yet, but—I don't know. I pushed my hair behind my face as they skated off the ice.

Matt was quick to stand up. I looked up at him, still sitting.

"Wait, I want to talk to Jake before we go" I breathed. He let out a breath and his jaw hardened as he reluctantly sat back down. It wasn't 5 minutes later before Jake pushed out of the locker room and his eyes landed on me.

I looked over at Matt.

"I'll be right back" I stated, he didn't react. He just looked at me as I stood up and walked off the bleachers towards the boy with flowing blonde hair.

"Hey" He breathed pushing his sweaty hair back. "Hey" I smiled back. "I was happy to see you show up. I didn't think you would" He smiled down at me as he pulled his bag over his shoulder. I smiled and nodded.

"So what are you doing now? Do you want to come eat with some of me and my friends?" He breathed. I blinked up at him not expecting the sudden invitation. I opened my mouth and turned to see Matt still sitting there staring at us.

"Is that who you came with?" Jake's voice brought be back to him. I blinked up at him. "Matt? Yeah, we're friends" I nodded. He furrowed his eyebrows down at me and gave me a weird look.

"What?" I laughed lightly. He shook his head looking off.

“No, I think that's cool. It's just--" He cringed. "Does he talk to you? I don't think i've even seen that kid say a word, he's kind of like a ghost" He chuckled. I raised my eyebrows and looked at my feet.

"I mean he-" I swallowed trying to find the right words. Jake just looked down at me. I felt the pressure from his gaze. "He's a good friend" I nodded blankly. Jake shook his head and chuckled as he looked down at me.

"Is that his jacket?" He pointed to the jacket around my shoulder. I looked down at the jacket over me. "Yeah he---we're friends" I shrugged. Jake nodded and rocked back on his heels.

"Okay" He nodded. I smiled and nodded. "So? Food? Me and my friends?" He asked raising his eyebrows. The words friends rang in my ear. I really wanted to go, but I really didn't want to leave Matt.

"I still need help with that biology thing, we could go to my house after" He smiled tilting his head showing his lop-sided smile. I took in a breath as my mind raced back and forth.

Jake

Matt

Jake

Matt

Jake-

"I-" I turned around to look at Matt but he was gone. My eyes widened as I searched the crowd for a second. Fuck. I turned back to Jake.

"I'm so sorry. Can you just give me one second?" I breathed as I backed away. He chuckled and nodded as he turned. "If you wanna come, my car's out back. You know which one" He smiled before turning away.

The memory of his white leather seats washed over me and I almost forgot what I was doing. Fuck, Matt.

I turned as I pushed through the crowd of people trying to exit the gym. I wasn't that tall so I attempted to look for the brown hair I was searching for, but I couldn't find it.

I pushed out of the doors into the parking lot. I turned in circles before I saw him walking towards the sidewalk. I groaned in annoyance as I chased after him.

"Matt" I yelled. He just kept walking. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. He looked down at me.

"Matt, what are you doing? Why did you leave?" I asked shaking my head. He glanced behind me and then back down to me.

"You totally just left me in there" I laughed lightly, but slightly frustrated. He’s too good at running away and damn was he fast.

He scowled at me and shook his head before he started walking again. I followed him.

"Wait, what is your problem?" I asked glaring at him. He let out a breath and shook his head before shrugging.

"Is it Jake? Do you not like him or something?" I asked shaking my head trying to understand. He just blinked at me and then shrugged. I looked down at my feet and let go of a breath.

I turned around and saw Jake's car parked outside and a few people crowding around it. I turned back to Matt.

"He wants me to go hang out with him and his friends" I breathed looking up at him. Matt didn't turn to look at the group. His face didn't even change, but his eyes did.

"I wasn't gonna go but-"

He sighed and looked behind me and motioned towards the group. I turned and looked at the group.

"Y/n!" I heard Jake's voice. He waved me over. I looked back at Matt. "Do you care?" I whispered. He paused before shaking his head. I swallowed tapping my foot.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" I said. He just looked at me and then shrugged. I gave him a smile before turning and walking towards the group.

Then, I paused before walking back over to Matt quickly.

"Matt, wait" I breathed. He turned and looked at me raising his eyebrows, slightly smiling. I shrugged off the jacket.

"Your jacket" I said as I held it out for him to take. His expression became unreadable as I took the jacket out of my hand.

"I'll..see you" I gave a small smile. He stared blankly at me as I turned around and walked away.

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