#if only she wasn't as taken with authority

[binggiu]

Company Sin

Kim Dokja didn't hate Yoo Joonghyuk, not like people said and thought.

It's not like he hated him completely, in fact, he loved him, but a portion of hatred existed in his core and in his conscience.

Of course there would be after 3,149 chapters of his favorite webnovel, even more so after spending ten years reading every word and maintaining the constancy of being the only reader who stayed until the end, waiting for every update that existed.

Sometimes, Joonghyuk was his pillar of salvation, other times, he was the reason for beatings or teasing from his classmates. He would blame it on his mother, but deep down, the knowledge that spending more time immersed in novels, to escape the weak and stupid existence he lived, was the main reason why others picked on him, bothering him whenever possible.

Dokja had no hard feelings, not towards his favorite author, not towards the protagonist he accompanied on every return trip or towards the actions taken in every living scenario.

When Bihyung appeared on the train for the first time, on his way home after a damn day of work, the realization that everything he had read about for years was happening hit him firsthand.

Obviously, his carriage was not supposed to continue with so many lives, not if it followed the original plot, but what was his fault? None. He would not die for a story he knew like the back of his hand.

「 The clock ticked, but no constellation had said anything. 」

The desperation to take care of the lives of people around him would have been greater, if life had not taught him to live alone, with the world turning its back on him and wishing for his lonely and meaningless death.

Kim Dokja saw Joonghyuk throw him to the monster, try to kill him, not save his life and still be ironic about any apparent reason. The protagonist would be like that, the true protagonist.

The laughter in his mind was loud, he believed for a brief moment that he would be a better protagonist than him.

Pathetic.

「 The fourth wall said 'I'm hungry', but it wasn't time for it to feed yet. 'I'm thirsty', it wasn't time to drink someone's blood yet. 'I'm cold', it wasn't time to die and abandon everyone to live in a dark place full of pages. 'I'm sleepy', it wasn't time to lose half of it soul yet.」

The realization came when he went against the impediment made by his mother, the one who tried to stop him from dying. Pftt. How ironic, years later she tried to save him? What right did she have to try to save his soul now that it was destined to be broken, destroyed and have the stories of each fragmented person torn apart by abandoned streets?

His hand held Joonghyuk's, those hands covered in blood and holding the scabbard of the sword stuck in his heart. It was ironic to see in Joonghyuk's eyes a certain despair and sadness for killing him, he was the one who always said he would kill him at the first opportunity, so why did it seem like tears were falling on such a beautiful face?

Before Dokja could say anything, he felt the traces of his power as a Demon King takes over his body, choking his throat and preventing him from saying anything. And, even though it was sad, a smile still remained on his face, until the moment his physical body turned to dust.

「The constellation ‘■■■ ■■■■■■■’ still stares at him sadly, his decisions are inconclusive for him.」

「The constellation ‘■■■ ■■■■■■■’ left the channel.」

The sound was muffled, the cold between his clothes and his skin, the heavy breathing, the idealization of thin hands and loud but silent voices, was in his mind. Dokja opened his eyes, finding himself in the middle of a sea, he could see books floating around him, open and others closed, loose pages, pens releasing their ink. So many things, but nothing that made sense.

When he stood on the still existing floor, he began to walk between the existing shelves, some with several books, others with none, and one with only one book.

「The Fourth Wall trembled, whimpering as if it had been broken.」

Dokja didn't remember what it meant, but he was sure it didn't exist in the web novel, since he had memorized it, at least most of it. Opening the only book in his hand, he could see three photos of himself, one from when he was a child, one on the train, and oh ... just like now.

His breath caught, his hands shaking as he held the photo with the environment the same as he was in and probably with the position he was in, he was the same.

The bitterness on his tongue got worse, the trembling existing, the lack of air suffocating and when he opened his mouth, he drowned in agony, despair and water.

「Dokja you are ■■■■■■■■■ ■ ■■■■■■■■■ ■■■■■■■■■■■■. ■■■ ■■■■■, ■■■ ■■■■■ ■■■ ■■■ ■■■■■■■■, ■■■■■ ■■■■ ■■■■ ■■■■■ ■■■■■■■. 」

As his consciousness was carried away, he heard his words, but for some reason he could not understand.

Living so long among those worlds, acting as if he were Joonghyuk, he believed that people would already know where he was or would look for him, since they would understand that he was alive. As incredible as it may seem and the pain he feels, deep down in his heart, he missed his company with Bihyung. Would the bastard dokkaebi be cursing him even now? A smile appeared on his face, he certainly would be.

The watch was in his hand, stories that were not told by him were running in his soul, it was necessary, he was alive and regardless of the consequences, he would still be there. He would be Kim Dokja, the one who founded his company in the middle of a heavenly meeting, the one who provoked Joonghyuk until he did not give up on his third return, the one who met the plagiarizing writer, the one who saw his friends grow in power and be recognized, the one who fulfilled his promise to Bihyung, the one who fell in love with Yoo Joonghyuk for the 3149th time.

When Joonghyuk's fake 1864th return happened, and he helped Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyounga win, he saw the end of the scenarios.

The warmth of the sun should have given him joy and a success in being alive, but for a click, a quick darkness, and a rushing wind and a familiar sound, Dokja felt his body shiver. When he opened his eyes, he was in that station, the same one he knew, the one he stood at every day after work.

His eyes were curious, but when he started walking, he saw himself entering the carriage. His breathing was rapid, his heart was pounding, the feeling of despair and the urge to cry made him swallow hard. Entering the door in front of his, he walked to the place where he, or rather, his version from months ago, was sitting, with a cell phone in his hand, headphones and an infectious smile.

The first tear ran down his cheek.

Was that the end of the scenario? To live all the suffering, all the misfortune, all the existing feelings? A sob was present in his voice, no one looked at him, oh…. he was like the constellations were to him, invisible.

The crying started in his despair, kneeling in front of his other version, the suffering was worse than losing his stories, the urge to scream was greater than when she fixed him, the urge to die was greater than when Yoo Joonghyuk killed him. Was that the pain of returning?

Standing up, standing and staring at the wider smile of his new version, Kim Dokja felt his heart break. He felt the cold and sea water that remained when he died wrap around his body again. He heard the watch in his pocket stop ringing. He felt the cold, the one from when he died, begin to slowly take over his body.

As he stared at the train window, his eyes released the trapped tears, seeing Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk staring at him. The red eyes, the swollen bags under Joonghyuk's eyes, the bleeding and bitten lip, that was despair and he understood.

That was when the two voices were heard.

「The constellation ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’ still looks at him sadly, his decisions are inconclusive for him.」

「The constellation ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’ has left the channel.」

「Dokja, you are broken and I need to fix you. Please don’t let her fix you, come back to me in this return. 」

Kim Dokja sobbed, feeling the despair of sinking alone coursing through his veins.

「Stupid. Why do you keep running to your death? Why do you keep leaving us alone? Why do you still insist on breaking your soul?」

「I’ll be waiting for you in the 1895th return. I hope… ‘The constellation Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him’ that you trust me and don’t leave alone again.」

「The constellation ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’ stares at him.」

「I’ll be waiting for you, just like I’ve waited in all the other returns. I’ll be waiting so we can finish all the scenarios together. I will be waiting for you because I promised to wait for my love at the first return.」

「 The constellation ‘Han Sooyoung’ has turned off the channel.」

「 The constellation ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’ has turned off the channel.」

「 The incarnation Kim Dokja is repairing.」

「 The incarnation Kim Dokja is ready to begin his 1895th return.」

「 The constellation Yoo Joonghyuk is looking forward to this new scenario.」

「 The constellation Yoo Joonghyuk says ‘■■■ ■■■■■, ■■■■■ ■■■■ ■■■, ■■■■■ ■■ ■■■■■■■■■.’」

“Kim Dokja, come back to me, I’m waiting for you.’

[medicinemane]

Should make a pain killer that actually kills (or even touches) pain

[falinscloaca]

today's jjk ep

[kentucky-daisey]

Had a meeting with my new manager and almost cried because she was infinitely more supportive than my previous manager was. And the more I think about it, the more I realize how abusive my previous manager was, how often she gaslit me or took credit for my work, and how the lasting impact of the way she treated me for the last two years can classifiably be considered trauma.

Yay?

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Helping Husband Nanami! Unwind

Author's Note: This scrumptious gem graced my timeline today, and I couldn't resist writing a fic about it. Do yourself a favor and follow the artist on Twitter, and while you're at it, check out her Patreon—it's totally worth it! (Artist & Her Patreon)

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and i'll fix it!)

CW: AFAB! reader, usage of she/her, handjob (m! receiving), oral (m! receiving), pet names, role-play (prostitution), public sex

word count: 2k

✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖

Nanami was the epitome of dedication, tirelessly clocking in countless hours at the office to ensure his sweet wife lived in the lap of luxury. He was a gentleman in every sense. Yet, sometimes, this relentless work ethic could be his Achilles' heel.

Stress was making its unwelcome presence known in Nanami, with shadows deepening under his honey-gold eyes and the weight of the world pressing down on his broad shoulders. He was beat. After surviving yet another grueling twelve-hour shift, he was at his limit. All he craved was to return home to you, his loving wife.

And as his loving wife, you couldn't miss the signs. You saw how he would collapse into bed like stone after a long day, too exhausted to even finish his dinner. You heard the frustrated groans as he dragged himself out of bed each morning. But most importantly, you felt the strain in your bedroom.

Not to say Nanami wasn't satisfying you—quite the opposite, he was only satisfying you.

Despite his exhaustion, his touch was tender yet fervent, his kisses a mix of urgency and devotion. He'd make sure to lap at your cunt each night, with his talented tongue. Letting you know just how much he loved you, how he put your needs above his own. But that was exactly it—what about him? It worried you to no end; all you wanted to do was make sure your husband was happy. Seeing him give so much of himself, you felt a uncomfortable combination of gratitude and concern. You wanted to reciprocate, to show him the same level of care and passion. You longed to ease his burdens, to be his sanctuary just as he was yours. The thought of him carrying all that weight alone tugged at your heart, and you resolved to find a way to bring balance, to ensure he was taken care of as well.

Which was exactly why you weren't at home, playing the doting wife as always, but leaning up against his car hood, dressed in something completely out of character for you.

Fishnets, Daisy Duke shorts, and a tank top that hugged every curve clung to your body, making you a walking temptation. You watched your husband approach the car through glittery, half-lidded eyes. Letting out an exaggerated whistle, you purred, "Well, hello handsome," catching your husband's eyes.

He was just a few steps away, his furrowed brows and confused smile giving away his exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, and his button-up shirt was slightly wrinkled. It had clearly been another long day for him, and you were ready to melt away all that stress. But you couldn't do it as his wife; no, you needed to become someone else entirely. You had to offer him an escape from reality.

"What're you doing here, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice gruff and drawn out. His hair was still neatly groomed, and oh, you wanted to make a mess of that. Make a mess of him. "Also, I'm not one to tell you what to wear, but this is different." His eyes roamed your body, lingering over your breasts to the tips of your black heels. He was right, this was different.

"Mmhm, you like?" You bite down on your glossy, plump bottom lip. Nanami swallowed hard.

"Just a girl trying to make some money tonight," you continue, against the hood of his car. Your elbows prop you up, pushing out your breasts that were practically spilling out. "Ah, I see," he murmured. His eyes, though shadowed with exhaustion, now swam with an almost predatory hunger that swirled in the depths of his amber gaze.

You giggled at the fact that your husband was playing along with your little game, as he always did. Though tonight wasn't for you; no, it was all for him. Placing your delicate palm against Nanami's sculpted chest, he shivered for a moment. That was new.

"So, Mister, would you like to help a girl out and make use of my services?" Your voice was hot and breathy as you slowly undid the first button of his dress shirt. Nanami's eyes tracked the movement of your perfectly manicured fingers, lingering on the way they teased each button. A surprising rose-tint spread across his cheeks, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a vulnerable flush. You could get drunk off of him.

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't help a pretty girl like you out?" Nanami chuckled, a bit sheepish, as he fumbled with the car keys, finally managing to unlock the doors. Seeing such a strong, composed man acting so coy made your thighs clench. This outfit and role were really doing it for him, huh?

After hearing the car beep, you quickly pulled both yourself and your husband inside, sliding into the backseat. It was a tight fit, with Nanami's broad frame hovering over you, his arms and legs straddling your body. The closeness made you acutely aware of just how much bigger he was than you. Instinctively, his mouth found your neck, immediately shifting into husband mode. But tonight, you wouldn't let him neglect his own needs just to please you.

"Stop," you groan, fighting the urge to let Nanami do what he normally does. He immediately pulls away, his eyes filled with worry. He searches yours for answers but only finds eyes brimming with lust. "No touching, you're paying for my services, remember?" you giggle, pressing against his chest to flip him over. Now, you were on top, straddling his lap. His heavy cock pressed against you, straining against the confines of his trousers, yearning to be free. The two of you were panting, the heat between you making the car windows fog up. You were lucky the parking garage was deserted at this hour.

"I, uh, sweetheart…" he stammered, struggling to find the words as you mirrored his earlier actions. Your mouth traced a path from his neck down to the exposed part of his collarbone, licking and sucking gently. Lips parted and teeth against skin. You couldn't help but think, God, you needed to do this more often.

His hips jerked against yours, causing the both of you to throb with want. The fabric of your shorts was already damp, barely able to contain the heat building between you. Your hands roamed down his muscular frame, your fingers tease as they reached the zipper of his trousers. You fumbled with it, the anticipation making your breath hitch. His low groan in your ear sent shivers down your spine, and you pressed closer, feeling the urgency of his need matching your own.

"Please let me touch you, just a little," he pleaded, his grip tightening on the leather seat, veins on his arms standing out. The desperation in his voice sent a thrill through you. You had made Nanami Kento, usually so proper, whine like a slut. You leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his, reveling in the power you held in that moment.

"Here, you can get a kiss, but it'll cost you extra," you laugh, pressing your open mouth to his. The kiss was sloppy, tongues intertwining with a fervor that made your head spin. His mouth was hot, and he tasted delectable—an unexpected blend of mint and cinnamon. You were melting into him. "Nghhh, sweet girl, let me touch you..." Nanami's voice was trembling, his restraint barely holding on. This was absolute torture for him; he wasn't used to being the one pampered.

"No," Your fingers hooked onto the belt loops of his khaki trousers, slowly tugging them down to reveal his throbbing cock, leaking precum. A frustrated moan caught in his throat as he waited for you to do something, anything.

His cock was pretty, more so than usual tonight. It was a darker shade of pink, thick and pulsing, with veins prominently visible at the base, likely from all the accumulated stress. Nanami hadn't cum in the past two weeks, so naturally, he was this pent up. His cock was so tempting, begging for attention.

As you wrapped your glossy lips around the tip, Nanami's hips jerked involuntarily, aching for more. The desire to thrust into the back of your throat and make a mess of your slutty makeup consumed him, but Nanami, being the gentleman he was, forced himself still. After all, he wouldn't want to harm his lovely wife, right?

But that's not what you wanted. You wanted Nanami to take out all his anger, all his stress, all his bad days on you. To defile you in a way he would a slut. That's who you were tonight, right? No longer his wife, but the whore he needed.

"Don't hold back, use me," you groaned against his cock, your mouth still wrapped sweetly around it. Drool dribbled down as you pleaded for him to let go. Getting Nanami to be rough was like asking to be struck by lightning—rare, but when it happened, it was electrifyingly intense.

"Such a dirty girl," without hesitation, Nanami began to buck his hips, driving his cock deep into your throat. Your mouth watered, saliva pooling at the base of his needy cock. He was so thick, making it a struggle not to gag. "Such a good whore for me," Tears welled up in your eyes, and your cheeks hollowed as you fought to keep up with his relentless pace.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" He kept repeating, babbling at this point as he used your mouth. He was drunk on pleasure, feeling the plush, wet insides of your mouth and the back of your throat. The sensation was overpowering for him, and you could see it in the way his body shuddered and groans flying from his mouth. It felt so good watching him writhe in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands gripped your hair tighter, guiding you as he continued to lose himself in you. The sight of him so vulnerable only fueled your urge to push him further into this blissful state.

You began to hum as he thrust into you, the vibrations around his length driving him insane. He let out the most beautiful grunt, a sound that sent jolts straight to your dripping cunt. You could tell he was close; his movements were becoming erratic and more forceful, causing you to gag and choke each time he hit the back of your throat. Perfect. He needed this release, and so did you. The anticipation had been building for weeks, and now you were desperate to taste him, to feel that connection you had been craving.

"Sweetheart, I can't," he breathed out, his legs stiffening and back arching slightly, plunging him deeper into your throat. His tip was bruising your throat by now, but you didn't care. You needed to see your husband come undone. Using a free hand to grip the base of his length, you began to pump up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. You were going to send him into a spiral, make him regret not being more selfish these last two weeks, make him wish he'd never taken that overtime at the stupid office.

"Gonna come," he winced, the words dragging out as his handsome face contorted in pleasure. Nanami's grip tightened on the back of your head, thrusting his length into your throat with desperation. You could definitely feel the bruises forming, but the feeling only heightened the moment. His hot, salty cum erupted into your throat, filling your mouth and leaving you with barely any time to savor its taste. The sheer force of his release made your eyes water and throat flex, but you reveled in the raw, filthiness. As he pulled back, you licked your lips, catching the last remnants of him, a satisfied smirk playing on your face.

His mouth agape, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely spent as he was panting to catch his breath. You completely wrecked him. "God, you're...incredible," he managed to say between shallow breaths, still reeling from his orgasm. The sight of him so messy only made you want to see him like this again and again. You could see the way his muscled chest heaved, each rise and fall a testament to the pleasure you had just given him. His hands, which had been gripping you with such fervor, now lay limp at his sides, fingers twitching slightly as if still remembering the feel of you.

As he slowly regained his composure, a lazy smile spread across his face. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

"Now, how much extra for another kiss?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"It's on the house,"

[drunk-person]

Bravery in love

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: For Prince Aemond Targaryen, bravery was in war and fighting. Until he met his wife and learned about different forms of bravery.

WARNING: No age restriction. Unhealthy amounts of cuteness and softness, a tiny bit of pain, and one paragraphs of sexual innuendo.

Word cont: 3.500 k

Author's note: Okay I saw a really cute video of a baby discovering that she could move her legs whenever she wanted and she was so cute and I ended up writing this story which is basically a giant fluff hahahaha. English is not my first language so be kind if you can 💕💕.

♡-♡-♡

The sun was already high in Kings Landing on a beautiful warm spring day, the beauty of the season lifted everyone's spirits, but no one had a bigger smile than Princess Y/n, Prince Aemond's wife as she ran to the bedroom door to tell them to call her husband.

The two had been married for two whole years at this point, an arrangement made between Aemond's grandfather and her father. Initially Y/n was apprehensive about the marriage, considering the many terrible stories she had heard of women who had married before her. But upon meeting Prince Aemond, her heart melted for him before she even realized it.

He seemed cold and hard at first when she arrived at the capital, but then suddenly he was so shy and so sweet when they were alone in the garden to talk for the first time. And when Y/n said she liked stories, he smiled, turning his face to the side and told her that he also really liked stories.

Later that night, when Y/n returned to her room, she found a book with a black leather cover and the title "Rhaenys, the bravery of love" next to a very small blue flower. The young lady thought she would faint right there when she touched the soft petals of the flower.

Then came the wedding and after that nothing but happiness with her husband. Every day the two became closer and trusted each other more, to the point that Aemond told her his deepest sorrows and she in return confided hers, and little by little she realized that everything her husband wanted most was just be loved, and that's what she did, she loved him.

Y/n felt happy in a way she never thought would be possible, there was only one problem, it had been a year since the wedding and her belly still hadn't shown any signs of growing. And it wasn't as if she and her husband weren't trying, after they both became acquainted Aemond became thirsty for touch and planted his seed in her every day, sometimes more than once a day, which made her even more worried.

The cruel whispers had already taken over the fortress. Words like "infertility" and "dry womb" became common when they thought she wasn't listening. And as broken as Y/n's heart was, she tried hard to pretend to her husband that it didn't hurt that much. She knew how much Aemond wanted a child, and it was her duty to give him one, guilt plagued her when she thought about it, thinking that she couldn't do so little for a husband who gave her everything she asked for without blinking.

On a winter afternoon with the weather colder than usual in the capital, Y/n was sitting alone in the garden admiring a pair of nightingales that had made a nest in a nearby tree when she felt Aemond's soft but possessive touch pulling her towards him.

-What are you doing here in this cold weather? You'll freeze. - His low voice sounded against her ear and she just smiled weakly.

-I like coming here, it's where we had our first conversation, remember? - She looked at him. - It always makes me happy to think about that day when I don't feel cheerful.

-And why would the most beautiful lady in the realms be sad? - Aemond looked at her deeply, Y/n felt as if he saw through her soul and still trying to hide his sadness, he looked down at the ground.

-Wife. - His gloved fingers guided her chin up and she couldn't escape his gaze again. - I know something is wrong, tell me.

And Y/n could no longer contain herself, the tears that were very well kept ran loose down her face as she hid them in her husband's chest, sobbing and trembling while holding on tightly to him, as if he would evaporate before her.

-I'm sorry, husband! - She sobbed against his chest.

-Y/n, my dear, did someone hurt you? - His voice sounded calm but with barely contained anger as he pulled her closer and closer in an act of protection. - Tell me who it was and I will kill him myself.

-No one has hurt me, husband. - She leaned against him, still pulling on his jerkin. - It's just me and my apparent inability to grant you a child.

-It is not up to you to grant me a child. - He said, looking at her firmly as he brought his hands to her face. - That depends on the will of the gods, when they feel it's time, they will send us a son. Until then, I don't want to see you crying because of this. - He stroked her cheeks with his fingertips and Y/n smiled, her face still slightly wet.

-Now let's go in and have some tea, I don't want you to catch a cold. - He guided her inside by the waist.

That night, amidst moans and groans of love and burning passion, Rhaenys was conceived to the joy and pride of her mother and father.

To Aemond's relief, Y/n had an easy and uncomplicated pregnancy; she just had a burning desire for him and wanted him inside her every hour of the day without rest, something he granted without discussion after a extensive research to find out if it would not pose a risk to his wife or the baby.

The birth was not much different, it was late summer and the weather was starting to get cooler, but even so, it was a difficult time and Aemond did not leave Y/n's side at any time, and the maesters did not dare ask him to leave the birthing chambers more than once after the absolutely deadly look Aemond gave them at the first request.

And when Y/n cried and told her husband that she was scared, he grabbed her hand tightly and whispered only for her to hear.

-I know you can do it, my sweet girl. - Leaving a kiss on her sweaty chest.

-I am not as brave as you. - She cried while shaking her head and holding onto her husband's hands.

-Remember that there is also bravery in love. - Aemond spoke softly, but confidently as he squeezed her hand.

And after hearing that with restored strength at the thought of her little baby, Y/n pushed even harder as she screamed through the pain and could finally hear the sweet cry of her little girl. At that very moment she burst into tears of pure relief and emotion, and when the maester placed her in her arms wrapped in a bloody white cloth she could swear she saw her husband shed a tear or two too.

And with passionate smiles the two chose the name of their little daughter in honor of the conqueror who gave the title to the first gift that Aemond gave her on the day they met. And from that sweet moment on, little Rhaenys became the pride and joy of both their lives.

Almost 7 moons later, already in spring Y/n now felt that her happiness was complete. The sparkle in her eyes could be seen from miles away as she played with her little daughter who had begun to sit up on her own. With each new discovery Rhaenys made, Aemond and Y/n celebrated as if it were a victory in a tournament.

One of the sweetest moments was the day she discovered she could control her own legs. It was something so simple, but so sweet. They were sitting on the bed talking while Rhaenys absentmindedly played with a small wooden sculpture in the shape of a dragon, using it to scratch the teeth that had bothered her since birth.

Suddenly, when they both looked, Rhaenys was laughing as she slowly raised her left leg and watched with a look of delight, only to do the same with her right leg and then lean forward trying to grab her own legs, smiling and babbling.

They both smiled and looked at her full of love, everything was perfect and Y/n had never felt so good in her life. Except for the fact that two days later she discovered that the court had not stopped talking about her. Y/n was walking distractedly towards her own chambers when she heard the whispers and low laughter of other ladies.

-So long to be able to give the prince a child and when she does, it's a girl. - The mockery was clear in that voice.

-Poor Prince Aemond, how much longer will it take until she can give him an heir? - Another lady laughed while whispering. - He'll have to settle for just a daughter, it seems.

Y/n felt her eyes watering at the same moment and accelerated her pace towards the rooms while breathing deeply trying to contain her tears and with a deep sigh she entered her own chambers while wiping away a tear that escaped. As soon as she raised her head and looked at the room she almost smiled at the scene before her.

Aemond sat on the carpet with his long legs crossed with his little Rhaenys held in his arms, his voice sounded softly through the room and now Y/n smiled genuinely when she saw what he was doing.

-Say Kepa. – Aemond smiled gently at his daughter. - Kepa. - He spoke more slowly while gently caressing the child's back.

Her husband was always trying to teach her to say "father" in Valyrian, and the little girl just babbled as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and smiled toothlessly at her father. Aemond swore that she was almost able to do it and that she had even said a syllable to him when they were alone. The prince, feeling like he was being watched, raised his head and smiled softly when he saw his wife standing near the door.

-Your muña is back byka sõvion. (Little butterfly) - He murmured softly to his daughter as he gently shook her and made the little girl smile. Aemond's loving gaze gradually faded as he noticed his wife's melancholy and he carefully placed Rhaenys on the carpet, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of her slightly curly silver hair.

-Umbagon va se ritz byka sõvion. - (Stay on the carpet little butterfly) He whispered as if his little daughter could understand every word and she just screamed and babbled while slapping her hands on the carpet.

The prince walked slowly to his wife and pulled her closer to him, caressing her hips with the tips of his thumbs.

-What's wrong, Issa jorrāelagon? - Aemond murmured against her forehead, leaving a kiss there and then brushing his nose against hers.

-People can be very cruel sometimes. - She sighed against her husband's neck, and Aemond felt his own blood burn in his veins at the prospect of someone being cruel to his Y/n.

-Who had the audacity to say anything to you? - Aemond's voice was restrained, but anger dripped from the corners of his lips and Y/n just shook her head quickly as she laid her head on his chest.

-Just nasty whispers.

-What kind of whispers? - He continued with his voice carefully restrained as he pulled her closer and closer, holding her tightly.

-Does it matter to you that I gave birth to a girl? - She looked him in the eye with pain. - Would you rather have had a son?

-Sīkudi nopāzmi. (Seven hells) - Aemond practically growled with his face contorted with rage as he held Y/n's face firmly between his palms. - Qilōni istan se wretched gīs qilōni naejot vestragon bona naejot ao? Ivestragon issa ābrazȳrys! (Who was the wretched soul who dared to say that to you? Tell me, wife!)

Y/n looked at him confused, not understanding what he had said other than ābrazȳrys. And breathing deeply, trying to control his own nerves, Aemond repeated more calmly while rubbing his wife's arms gently.

-Tell me who was wife. - He asked, looking deeply into her eyes. - Who dared to say such a thing to you?

-I just heard it when I was passing by. - Y/n had seen who it was, but she wouldn't tell him because she knew her husband would do something about it.

Aemond snorted again and pulled her back to him.

-Wife, I don't want you to listen to such nonsense ever again in your life. - He murmured to her. - You and our daughter are everything in my life, and although I wish to have more children, if we had no more besides Rhaenys I would be the happiest man in this cursed land for having you.

-To issi issa glaeson. - He sighed as he tucked a lock of Y/n's hair behind her ear.

-What does that mean? - She asked slightly emotional.

-You are my life. - He repeated, looking firmly into her eyes as he squeezed her hands in his. - And there is nothing I value more than you and our byka sõvion.

He smirked as he looked at Rhaenys who had laid down and was now trying to shove her own foot into her mouth while spluttering and laughing.

-You know me better than anyone else, wife, and I'm honest when I tell you that I've never been happier in my entire life than I am now. Our family brings me joy.

The smile on Y/n's face could warm even those beyond the wall as she jumped on her husband and hugged him happily.

-I love you, husband. - She sighed against his neck, Aemond didn't respond, but he never responded, at least not with those exact words, his heart was much more complex than that.

More moons passed, and Aemond became increasingly enchanted by his daughter, his eyes shining with each evolution and discovery that the little girl made. He never wanted to miss anything, he liked to be there for every little new thing and he made it clear to Y/n that she should call him anytime and that's what she did on one special day.

-Send for my husband! As soon as possible. - Y/n hissed at one of the maids who was passing by the hallway. The young woman nodded and ran without even looking back towards the training courtyard to look for the prince.

-Your grace, forgiveness for the interruption. - The girl said, looking at the ground. - But your wife urgently requested your presence.

Aemond's chest was briefly breathless when he heard that, and without caring about anything else, he dropped his sword on the floor and ran towards his own chambers.

He entered the room calling for his wife with wide eye, but his expression changed from fear to curiosity when he saw her with her index finger against her lips in a clear sign of silence for him, while with her other hand she pointed to the foot of the sofa where Rhaenys was standing for the first time as she tried to walk on her own.

Aemond's jaw dropped, and he felt tears coming to his eye, his little girl was almost walking.

-You forgot. - Y/n smiled and gently pulled off her husband's eyepatch, throwing it on the table. She had convinced him not to wear it around Rhaenys. At first he hesitated, but it proved to be a good thing since the little girl was completely enchanted by the sparkle of the sapphire in her father's eye, always reaching out her hands towards him and gently rubbing the area while she babbled. And Aemond wouldn't admit it out loud, but that small gesture of affection made him feel loved in a whole new way that he had never felt before.

Still with tears in his eye, Aemond turned away he slowly approached the couch as he crouched down next to his daughter, who, upon seeing him, screamed with excitement and took an excited step towards him. And as if all of this wasn't the most magical thing that had ever happened to him, Rhaenys began to babble as she tried to walk towards her father.

-Ke - She babbled waving her free hand towards him and Aemond felt his heart warm. - Ke-pa.

-Konir sagon paktot byka sõvion, māzigon tosh kepa. (That's right, my little butterfly, come with daddy) - He whispered to his daughter with a slightly cloudy voice.

-Kepah! - She screamed in that sweet baby voice as she took her hand off the couch to clap her hands and before she could fall on her butt on the floor, Aemond caught her, preventing her from falling while two tears ran down his eye. Rhaenys looked at him with wide eyes, a little scared after almost falling, but Aemond caressed her back affectionately, calming her.

-Ziry iksos byka sõvion, kepa kessa dōrī ivestragī ao ropagon. (It's okay, little butterfly, daddy will never let you fall.) - He smiled as more tears fell and Rhaenys looked at him enchanted as she once again caressed the sapphire attached to her father's eye. - Dõrī. (Never) - He reaffirmed with a look of pure love.

Rhaenys had said her first words and Y/n did not understand what her husband was saying to her daughter, just a few words that he had already taught her and the sweet nickname he gave Rhaenys, but her heart was so warm that Y/n thought it might be on fire. She could see the love overflowing from her husband's eyes in an uncontrollable way and at that moment Lady Y/n knew that only she and her little Rhaenys were enough.

About a moon later Aemond decided it was time to introduce his daughter to Vhagar. And after a short trip in the house on wheels and a walk along the edge of the royal forest they arrived at the immense dragon. Y/n already knew her, she had even flown on Vhagar with Aemond, but even so she was a little afraid for Rhaenys, something that she told herself was completely unfounded because of all the people in the world she knew that the only one who would never do anything that could put her Rhaenys at risk was Aemond.

The prince had barely approached the dragon with his daughter and she was already looking at him curiously, still with her head lying on the meadow. And while Aemond spoke to her in Valyrian, Y/n just smiled in love, the smile only got bigger after Rhaenys laughed and screamed as she took her little hands to caress the dragon's scales while babbling some incoherent things to her father.

-She'll be a formidable dragon rider one day. - Aemond stated seriously as he smiled sideways at his wife who just rolled her eyes unable to imagine her little girl on a beast that size, but she knew she had to get used to the idea, she was a Targaryen after all.

-If she's as good as her father, she'll be the best of them all. - Y/n smiled as she caressed her husband's back and left a kiss against her daughter's soft hair.

At the answer, Aemond smiled and pulled her by the waist closer to him and his daughter while leaving a sweet kiss on her lips.

-You've told me more than once that you're not brave. - He murmured against her lips as he gently brushed his own lips against hers. - But you were brave to love me when no one else tried. Thank you for being everything I wanted, everything I needed.

After saying that he extended a small flower with blue petals to her and smiled a little shyly as he made Rhaenys more comfortable in his arms.

And with tears in her eyes, Lady Y/n reached out and took the small, soft flower between her fingers, then hugged him and her smiling daughter, knowing that in her husband's strange and rigid language, that was an I love you.

Since Aemond was courageous enough to ride huge dragons, engage in sword duels and so many other dangerous things, but simple words terrified him. She didn't need them, she knew how to read her husband's heart, eyes and actions that told Y/n every hour of every day that he loved her, and even if he didn't love her, she was brave enough to love for both of them.

And with that thought she smiled and kissed him sweetly on the lips as she held both him and her precious Rhaenys close, her beloved most precious possessions.

[amaranthineghost]

THE MIGHTY HAS FALLEN (BUT YOU'LL RISE AGAIN, LOVE) ( max verstappen. )

max verstappen x reader

after a tough race cut short, max pushes away any person around him, but not her. never her. she always picks up the pieces to put him back together.

authors note: I love max. I know he's not the self-deprecating typa guy, but in this, he is, OKAY. charles is after this <333

HE WAS A BOMB. the fuse getting shorter and shorter every minute that his patience was tested. everything around him seemed to irritate him more and more as he tried to keep himself from exploding, for pr's sake.

he just wanted to avoid the media all together, for obvious reasons, but he was contractually obligated to give his words to the journalists under the media tent. putting him under a microscope and asking questions that had an undertone of scrutiny in hopes of catching him break. he was close, but he wouldn’t.

it hadn’t even been a fault of his own, he rarely made those anymore. the car had caught fire, but not due to a mistake he had made, and even if it had been, he wouldn't have admitted it anyways. still he felt the guilt of his lack of performance, beating himself up after every question asked about his car and what had happened.

it was just stupid. the questions were stupid. the car was stupid. this whole race was stupid.

the pressure to perform, even in the best car on the grid, was high. despite his seat being secured for plenty of years to come, he still had expectations to meet and records to break.

it was obvious to everyone that max was hard on himself every time he didn't perform his best, his girlfriend especially noticing when she’d find him in his very luxurious driver's room sulking at even the slightest of a mistake made by him.

it didn't happen often, but when it did, she'd been there for him. he knew that.

he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never be seen again because world champions don't make stupid mistakes.

even if this hadn't been a mistake he made, he should've known. even if there was no possible way he could’ve, he should've.

he was raised to believe that he was only deserving if he had been first, that he was destined to fail after every second place or worse finish.

so it wasn't surprising when he thought he didn't deserve her. in comparison, or more like his eyes, she was simply perfect.

and she understood him, which not many people could because he wouldn't let anyone pick apart his brain like she did.

he locked his thoughts and feelings in the dark that shrouded his mind from early childhood trauma. he promised he would never let anyone see.

but he was never great at keeping such promises because it hadn't taken much for her to pick the lock to his brain. even though he wasn't ready to spill every detail of his upbringing to her, he trusted her.

and he didn't get to do that all too often.

the media had been brutal—he knew they would be—and yet it still crushed his mentality and faith in himself.

with his race suit around his waist despite having time to change beforehand, he walked through the paddock in shame at the early retirement.

it wasn't like this determined the outcome of his career because the next race, he'd be back on top. he didn't feel so sure of it though because all his thoughts were on this failure. what if he failed the next race?

what if he failed the whole season? what if he fails her?

unlikely, the people know, but he had so much confidence which had so easily crumbled when it got a little too hot. he wasn't sure of himself anymore.

anyone could see the turmoil bubbling underneath his skin, harsh waves crashing in the ocean of his blue eyes as he pushed past anyone and everyone.

the walk through the paddock was short, considering the red bull motorhome was the first of ten. max hastily entered through the automatic doors, skipping steps as he was eager to hide out in his driver's room.

he felt the eyes of the staff follow him down the hall until he disappeared quickly around the corner. he didn't want to be seen by anyone.

the door to his driver's room closed as fast as it was opened, but much louder. she heard the slam of the door echo down the hallway.

she didn't flinch, she just calmly greeted staff with smiles and left a bag of sweets on the table for them. she always brought something for the team, to celebrate every victory and despite this not being one, they still deserved it for working hard.

since she had gotten there not too long after him, she lingered around the lobby. she didn't want to be waiting around for him to show up and have him brush her off because he wasn't in the right headspace.

he would never mean to dismiss her, and she knew to give him at least a little time to himself to think and process things. she couldn't give him too much time though because she didn't want his self-deprecating thoughts to eat away at his confidence.

from what she analyzed from the staff and their demeanor, he'd probably caught them off guard when he slammed his door.

she wouldn't apologize for his behavior because she would make him do it when he cooled down.

so she hung around and made small talk with the sparse staff around to allow max a few minutes to himself before excusing herself down the hall.

she had a bomb to defuse after all.

the clack of her heels on the hard floors bounced off the walls, but she walked quietly enough so max didn't hear her coming. he knew she would though. he knew she would find him with his head in his hands, barely covered in sweat because he didn't race for more than three laps.

his face was still flush with disappointment though. he didn't want her to see him like this even though she was with him during his last disappointing race, but even though his singaporean grand prix finish wasn't great, at least he hadn't been out of the race.

max hadn't DNF’d in two years because he was simply just that good, and he still is. he just didn't feel like it.

his hands pressed so hard against his eyes, the blood vessels in them would have popped if he pushed any harder. he had taken off his red bull hat, he felt he didn't deserve the number one right now. it was thrown lazily onto the makeshift bed in his driver's room.

the room was practically silent, every so often interrupted by a deep sigh of disappointment that escaped his lips. he had sat there for a good couple or minutes, sulking.

when she reached his door, she held the bouquet of flowers she always got for him close to her body with one arm while she raised the other to knock. her hand only slightly hesitated before her fist made contact with the door and a few seconds later, she tried entering. it was locked, which was usual whenever he was brooding.

at first, when max heard the knock, he thought of all the people last on his list that he would want to see right now, but on the bottom of the list was the person he wanted to avoid the most right now.

his dad.

their relationship was rocky. he never supported max at any place unless it was on the very top of the podium, and even then max thought he looked unpleasant.

“go away,” was all max could mutter through his hands as his heart started to pick up the pace.

she sighed, shaking her head with a smile pulling at her lips, “max.” it was all she needed to say.

part of him didn't want to let her in, he didn't want her to see him like this, but he knew she was just as stubborn as him, if not more. he knew she would stand there all day if he didn't open the door to let her in.

and he would always let her in.

she heard the low creak of the sofa she could imagine him sitting on, but not his footsteps while he made his way to the door. she only knew he heard her when the lock clicked and the door slowly opened inwards to reveal the red-faced max verstappen.

she stood staring at him, her head tilted as she studied his face. he didn't move, he just watched her eyes dart around his appearance, and he felt himself getting hot under his fireproofs.

“are you going to let me in, verstappen?” she teased, a sly smile on her lips as she watched her boyfriend roll his eyes.

he scoffed, stepping aside, “don't call me that.”

“what?” she acted innocent, stepping into his driver's room with the fresh flowers, seeing the already prepped vase, “don't call you by your name?”

“you know what I mean.” though he tried to keep a straight face and act like he was still mad, he couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto his lips. she just had that effect.

she heard the door close and lock again as she took the wrapping off and placed the flowers in the vase. she shrugged at his words, her back still towards him, but she knew he had sat back down.

“you didn't have to get those,” he mumbled, “didn't win.”

she sighed, crumbling the wrapping in her hand and throwing it away before walking to where he sat. she stood in front of him as he looked up at her.

even with heels, he was still much taller than her and even though he was sitting, he reached barely below her chin.

she spread her arms to offer a hug to him, which he gratefully took, his arms snaking around the low of her hips. pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, running her fingers through his hair.

she felt him sigh against her skin, his eyes closing as they stayed like that for minutes without speaking. she felt him caress the bare skin of her thigh with his thumb.

when they finally pulled apart, his hands still laid firmly on her hips, his hair disheveled from the hug. she ran her hands through it to fix it and he only watched as she did so.

when she finally finished after only ten seconds because guy hair is a lot less complicated than women’s hair, he finally spoke up, “why are you dressed so uncomfortably?”

she was slightly taken aback, seeing as he was just moping about his race not even ten minutes ago and now commenting on her appearance. he only assumed she was uncomfortable, but unfortunately his assumption was correct.

“what do you mean?” she looked down at her attire, which isn't so different from the other wags that she hung out with.

his hand snuck around the back of her thigh and pulled up her leg, “I thought I told you to stop wearing heels, you always complain about them.”

“i’m fine,” she said, about to cross her arms, but her balance said otherwise so she settled them on his shoulders for support.

he gave her an incredulous look because every time she wore heels, without fail, she would complain less than an hour into wherever they were that she wanted to sit.

“okay, i admit i can't wait to get these things off,” she let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her hip, “but I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”

she said in his response to take the heels off her feet for her, a simple gesture really, but this was about him.

“do you want to talk about it?” she massaged his shoulders as he threw her heels to the other side of the small sofa.

“nothing to talk about,” he shrugged, “maybe I don't deserve being first.”

she pushed his head to look up at her, shaking her head, “you just don't realize how much you deserve, max. you're a world champion, a three-time one,” she reassured him, “you've won countless races, and you still have the entire season ahead of you. I know you want to, but you can't let one bad race define your season.”

“I know, you're right.” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought deeply, “but I have to prove myself.”

“you've already done that plenty of times,” she shook his shoulders in emphasis, “besides you'll still lead the championship, unless charles gets p1, but you'll get it right back if that's the case.”

she was right. she always was, he never doubted her. he would never doubt her because she would never lie to him. she always backed up her answers by building up his ego and confidence back up so he was ready to fight it out on the track next race.

whether it took a couple of minutes or hours to bring his mood back up, she'd take her time in making him feel like the champion he was again.

she would take his phone from him, he didn't need to see the articles being written or the missing phone calls from his dad.

all he needed was her and she would always be there.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[missnxthingg]

Gal I need lando fluff as well could u do taking care of him when he’s sick and he’s all tired and clingy

needy | LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader summary: After a busy month, all Lando needs is his girlfriend to take care of him words: 1 K - warnings: Sick Lando and lots of cuteness (also not proof read, sorry) author’s notes:  I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a busy & unplanned week at work. But here we are, just in time to celebrate our favourite boy's birthday

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Triple headers always hit quite hard on Lando. Since he joined Formula 1, he doesn't remember a single time he didn't end up sick after almost a month travelling around the world. And this time it wasn't different; he started having a fever the morning after he arrived from Brazil and stayed in bed all day.

Y/N found it odd to not find him in his usual state of relaxation after a full month of work: locked inside his dark gaming room, full of snacks and laughing with Max. Instead, he was wrapped around three blankets in their living room, body almost lifeless on the sofa as he watched a boring movie on TV.

“Oh, baby boy, are you feeling okay?”, she asked, putting her things down so she could check on him.

Lando smiled tired at her and shrugged, too tired to even say something. She knew he was getting sick, especially after he spent the entire flight home – and their night of sleep – coughing. She just didn’t expect for it to be that bad, to the point where the most chatty boy in the world would go speechless.

“Have you eaten?”, she ran her hands through his face and he nodded tiredly. Then she found the empty yogurt cup beside him and rolled her eyes. “A yogurt isn't eating, Lando”.

“Come cuddle, baby”, he mumbled, wrapping one of his hands around her wrist.

“I'm worried about you, my love”, she ran her hands through his curls, making him open a tired smile. “I swear to God, every triple header is the same. I won't let you go anymore”.

“It's just a way my body found of telling I'm tired”, he assured. “If you come cuddle, then I'll be fine”.

“Later, baby. I have to make lunch for us”, she pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando whined loudly. “Stop being a baby!”

“You're evil”.

Y/N started taking things out of the fridge to start cooking their lunch, and Lando suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and resting his head on the crook of her neck. She smiled at the gesture and cuddled into his touch as she cut some onions.

“Ouches my eyes”, he cried, making her giggle just before she stopped cutting the onions, to put it in the hot pan. “What are you doing?”

“Caramelized onion and creamy cheese pasta”, she revealed, making him open a big smile. “A favourite for my sick boy”.

“You're the best, baby. I love you so much”, he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, but didn't let go off her, choosing to stay glued to her side as she cooked.

“Lan, it's a bit hard to cook with you clinging onto me”, she chuckled. “Maybe sit right there and keep me company. Then I'll give you as many cuddles as you want”.

“Mmm, okay”, he smiled tiredly, finding a spot to sit close to her, as he observed her cooking. Travelling the world is nice, but he loved coming home to the love of his life, who always took the best care of him.

Suddenly, he was taken back to the early dates of their relationship, when she’d invite him over for dinner and cook him the easiest pasta that, in time, became his comfort food. That’s exactly what he needed after a long month away from home, and away from her, since she only came to the first race in Austin. His heart felt at ease when she served him a plate and found a spot next to him.

“Thank you”, he mumbled before attacking the food. “It’s so good to be home. It’s so good to be with you”.

“I was counting the seconds until you were back to me”, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and cuddled to his side as they ate in silence, just feeling each other’s presence. He learned to appreciate silence after loud days as he rested next to his favourite girl. “Are you feeling better?”

“My throat is sore, and it feels like I was hit by a truck”, he joked. “The headache is gone, though”.

“I’ll use my super healing powers to make you feel better”, she sprinkled kisses through his face, making him open a genuine smile for the first time that day. But just before she kissed him on the lips, he backed away.

“You’ll get sick, baby”.

“It will be worth it, then”, she declared, before sealing their lips into a sweet kiss. Lando had missed those lips more than anything, and if she was willing to take the risk of getting sick, then he’s not arguing about it. “I love you, my sweet boy”.

“I love you too, beautiful”, he pecked her lips once again and took a second to analyse her face from up close; the face he adored so much. “Now, can we please cuddle?”

“Yes, my whiny baby, we can”.

Lando wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her to the couch, but felt too weak to do so. Y/N almost had to do this to him to get him to stand up and walk. He collapsed onto their couch and was too tired to open his arms to invite his girlfriend to join. She still found her spot next to him and pulled him closer, until they were tangled together between the blankets.

She pressed soft kisses all over his face and watched his lips tiredly curve into a smile, just as he felt a little better to have her taking care of him. They didn't even notice they forgot to turn on the TV.

“I'm so glad you're finally home”, she whispered. “This place is too quiet without you. I don't like it”.

“I'm happy to be back with my home”, he pressed his fingers to her skin and she smiled at him. “You're the best. I missed you so much that I might as well take you with me next time”.

“Anything so we can be together”, she said. “Sleep, baby, I'll be here holding you”.

“I love you so much. You're my everything, the love of my life, the sweetest…”, he continued to list various things about her and fell asleep mid-sentence.

“I love you more, Lan”, she pressed one last kiss on his forehead before falling asleep too.

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

[dawnslight-aegis]

and that's a wrap on my tarot series! the upright majors, at least. there may be others sometime in the future if I am seized by a combination of insanity and hyperfixation once again.

you might notice a few cards are a bit (or in the case of the fool and alternate chariot, a lot) different! I did a few retakes for consistency/style.

below the read more I've included a bunch of notes about symbolism and reasoning behind my choices if that interests you!

(tag for individual card posts)

0. The Fool: Ardbert was really the only choice for this one. He's our stand-in, our shard, our mirror. Feo Ul is included partially because of lore (they are my co-WoL's shard on the First) and also because they also fit the themes of adventure and new beginnings and exploration. Most of the cards I played pretty loose on the posing vs traditional depictions, but this one I wanted to hew a little closer, which is why he's on a cliff with a foot hanging over the edge a bit, with his axe standing in for the bindle. This is my second attempt at the card -- the first was in Il Mheg, but I moved it to Kholusia (Ardbert's home) and dawn to more closely symbolize that it's the beginning of something. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 8/10, posing Feo Ul was annoying.

1. The Magician: This card could have had several subjects, chief among them Alphinaud or a more modern G'raha, but I settled on Alisaie a) because the other two cards I had in mind for her (Chariot and Justice) were already taken, and b) the card's focus on physical magic and depicting the "tools of the trade" reminded me a lot of Angelo's creation! So that's why she's here, and why I set the card in Matoya's Relict, among the tools of magicians who came before (Matoya, Y'shtola). I retook the shot because I was unsatisfied with the blurriness/the way the light covered her face in the first one. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 5/10, simple pose but working with Impact's spell effect complicated things.

2. The High Priestess: Another that I never questioned who would appear on it. Y'shtola's arc is entirely about uncovering forbidden, secret knowledge and wisdom, so she fits beautifully. The blue-white orb and the purple staff depict duality between dark and light, and how Y'shtola walks in two worlds, seeing things that are beyond sight, standing before an altar/holy place to the Night's Blessed. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. Premade pose, knew where I wanted to place her -- the only thing was finding a prop for her off hand.

3. The Empress: Hoo boy did Minfi give me some trouble. I knew that I wanted our Antecedent, who provides both authority and care for the Scions, to represent the Empress, but I struggled to find a depiction that wasn't, well, boring. Minfilia is deeply linked with the Solar, and I didn't want to lean too hard into Word of the Mother/Hydaelyn territory, so I settled on a triple goddess-like idea. Attempts: 3. Difficulty: 6/10. Not mechanically difficult, just conceptually.

4. The Emperor: Another one that I knew who I wanted but struggled with the concept. Haurchefant is very much emblematic of the stability, structure, and masculinity provided by the Emperor, but it wasn't until I decided to add his equally-Emperor-coded father that things settled into place. Together, Edmont and Haurchefant evoke the image of father and son as well as king and knight, filling both major male authority roles that the Emperor exemplifies. Attempts: 4. Difficulty: 6/10. Same as the Empress.

5. The Hierophant: this one was one of the hardest to choose a subject for -- the WoL's allies are largely a bunch of revolutionary firebrands, and I disagree HEAVILY with the popular choice of placing Aymeric here. So I landed on Alphinaud -- out of the Scions, he is the one most concerned with tradition and the "right" way to do things, with formal education and structure. He wants to bring Sharlayan into the modern day, not upend the institutions that raised him and that he very much still respects, much like how he still respects his very traditionally Hierophant-coded father. So I placed him in his family home with a sort of smug look since he can be a pretentious little shit sometimes (affectionate). The spell effect is from Kardia, and I paid special attention to having the shapes align perfectly with the lines in the background, to give a sense of stability and order to the shot, especially contrasted with Alisaie's more dynamic and chaotic depiction. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 4/10, entirely in alignment.

6. The Lovers: Hrasevelgr and Saint Shiva are a great choice for depicting the Lovers as two people, but no one does the Lovers in one subject better than Ysayle. Invoking the spirit of a woman who died for love in order to bring harmony to her people, but it truly being her own power and her own choice the whole time... it's great. Her pose is her transformation/summoning pose, turned into a gesture of affection, which I was particularly proud of. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 3/10, posing monsters is always a little funky.

7. The Chariot: This one has two options -- my co-WoL, Marz, and Tataru/Cid/Nero for the NPC variant. All 4 characters share a singular drive and refusal to let anything stop them once they've set their mind to something, and the 3 NPCs have the added benefit of being associated with a literal "chariot" in the form of airship design. Marz's place on Shadowkeeper has some lore associations (Cylva is her shard on the 13th) as well as being a void mirror to Kaede's sin eater shot. For both I wanted to have dynamic poses to evoke the activity of the card. Attempts: 1 (Marz), 2 (NPCs). Difficulty: 3/10 for both, no major hurdles once the lovely @/karoiseka pointed me at an airship in NG+.

8. Justice: The heart of the Justice card is its emphasis on truth, and no character in FFXIV is more committed to truth even in the face of great suffering than Aymeric de Borel. Because of this, the shot is taken at the top of the Vault, where he confronted his father over his concealment of the truth of the Dragonsong War. The card is usually depicted with a woman holding a sword and balanced scales -- Aymeric is holding his sword in a pose used in statues in the Pillars, and the symmetry of the shot/light and shadow split down the middle is meant to give the feeling of balance. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 1/10. I knew my concept, location, and shader before I even went in, and it came out exactly like I wanted.

9. The Hermit: Originally I had Urianger for this card, who still fits well, but when I moved him to Wheel of Fortune, there was a clear second choice: The Exarch. He even resembles the Hermit, with his cloak and staff, holding himself in isolation and possessing secret knowledge with which he guides the party. G'raha has grown out of this role as of Endwalker, but the Exarch fits it to a tee. I wanted to show his longing to return through his body language and reaching out for the portal that shows him the world he is set apart from. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 4/10. Nothing major but did have to do two entirely separate cards lmao.

10. The Wheel of Fortune: The one I struggled with the most, conceptually. At first I had a more abstract choice, with the 3 starting city state leaders and Tataru, in a sort of "fate leads to the Scions" idea. But then I remembered that Urianger is a fortune teller who uses a wheel-like weapon with a literal wheel of cards, and, well. Yeah. The man is intimately associated with fate and choice, and the choice to place him on the moon is intentional, to separate him from his more secretive depictions in HW/ShB. He is the one who prepares our second option (flight) while giving us the choice to make our first (fight). Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 7/10. He's up on a high ledge that's not normally accessible and that's always a pain in the ass.

11. Strength: The one that started it all. The original shot of Kaede contained some layer elements I wasn't happy with so I ended up retaking it to better cohere with the others. Strength is about confidence and inner strength "leashing" power, symbolized by the woman and the tamed lion, and there's exactly one good lion model in XIV -- Forgiven Cruelty. It also has the fun side meaning of Kaede conquering and wielding the light that almost killed her. For Moenbryda's, I went with something simple -- her axe to symbolize her strength, but with her archon mark and the Sharlayan Thaliak statue prominently featured, emphasizing her intelligence. Attempts: 2 (Kaede), 1 (Moenbryda). Difficulty: 6/10. Kaede's was straightforward enough (though I had to wait an annoyingly long time for the sky to shift colors correctly), but Moenbryda's involved me floating her up on a building so i could get Thaliak in the shot correctly.

12. The Hanged Man: Holy moly this one was a PAIN IN THE ASS. I knew from the minute I started this what I wanted to do with it -- Lahabrea holding Thancred's ankle as he reaches for Minfilia. The Hanged Man is one that I felt it was especially important to mimic the iconic pose on the card, and this was how I decided to do it, but it took me over an hour and a half to accomplish. Anyway, the Zodiark idol stands in for the Tree of Life, which I really liked. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 10/10. Absolutely infuriating to have to pose 3 actors in three dimensional space like that.

13. Death: I only ever considered Estinien for this card. It stands for transformation and change, for shedding the old to make way for the new, and I chose to depict that by having his old corrupted drachen mail posed behind him like a shadow or an abandoned husk. He has left the hate and the rage behind, but the helmet is meant to symbolize that he always remembers it, and carries it with him so that he can do better. His lance is also vaguely reminiscent of the traditional Death scythe. That spot in Coerthas is where he challenges you in the early DRG quests while controlled by Nidhogg, as well as being just visually striking. Attempts: 1, but it took a while. Difficulty: 9/10. The ground is very much not flat, the helmet is on a minion, and I had to change angles and locations a few times.

14. Temperance: I briefly considered Hythlodaeus here, but Krile fits very well. Calm, competent, but unsure of her own worth. I chose Eureka Hydatos both for its importance to Krile as well as its easily accessible water -- instead of pouring from a cup, Krile is looking at her reflection. This one came together so quickly and easily. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 1/10. In and out of Eureka in less than 20 minutes.

15. The Tower: Originally, before I reshuffled, G'raha was going to be the Tower simply because I didn't know where to put him, and I couldn't think of an ally who is ultimately a destructive force, but it always bothered me because he truly didn't fit. Meteion, though -- despite her innocence and unwillingness, is THE destructive force within Endwalker's story. This card had the highest hurdles -- I had to get 7 friends to help me queue for Endsinger and then leave, and I almost couldn't get my tools to load Meteion in properly. After that it was smooth sailing, however. I used the whole lockout timer, but this was only the 4th shot I took, and it's one of my personal favorites. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 4/10, purely for queuing.

16. The Devil: Addiction, obsession, and control -- Zenos was the only answer for this card. I included Zero as well, despite intending this to be a primarily 6.0 and earlier set, to represent the humans bound in chains to the Devil, using the way she's pinned between Zenos and the scythe to symbolize that she's trapped. Afterward I realized this exact shot and character choice would have also worked quite well for the Tower, as well, but I ultimately prefer the Devil for him. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 3/10. Came together surprisingly easily, despite the fact that I had to make Zero's hat touch pose myself.

17. The Star: Symbolizing hope and new life, I can think of no one better suited than Ryne and the Empty. Ryne herself was given her own new life when Minfilia passed on her power, and the ability to make her own destiny -- and she used that power to revitalize a barren wasteland. My first version of this shot had a photoshopped in central star, but I decided to revisit the concept with an in game effect for the star instead. Helios provided what I needed, with the fun extra benefit of some additional rainbows (happy pride!). Attempts: 3. Difficulty: 3/10. Nothing crazy beyond trying to find a good angle to get the star in the shot, as well as Eden and the rainbow crystal. Second attempt I messed up the framing and had to redo it again.

18. The Moon: The card of dreams, fear, anxiety, and secrets, Gaia is perfect here (and a lovely companion to Ryne as the Star), though I did briefly consider Urianger as well. I wanted to have Gaia on the sand, with the moon hanging between the crystal walls of the Empty above her, but the angles would NOT cooperate to allow me to get the moon in the shot. So, levitation was the only answer. Fortunately it suits Gaia well, especially the distance that it evokes. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 6/10. I hate midair posing.

19. The Sun: Another card that sprang fully formed into my mind. Joy and fulfillment is symbolized by Lyse enjoying the morning light in a free Ala Mhigo, thinking of Papalymo. It also allowed me to get both of these very different characters into a single card, as they are very much a package deal, though I did consider Papalymo for the Hierophant as well. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. Came together very quickly.

20. Judgement: The last two cards of the Major Arcana are very high concept, with very lofty ideals, so they felt hard to pin down. I thought of doing both my WoLs here, or maybe Elidibus with his three forms for light, dark, and balance. But ultimately I ended up on Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus, as the sort of "final judgement" before the battle with the endsinger, the last step before everything ends. Their literal rebirth, the resolution of Emet-Selch's conflict with the WoL, the not-redemption but understanding reached, our efforts judged worthy -- it all just seemed to fit. The card design is simple but I hope the colors and emotion of the scene carry the weight of the arcana. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. No major roadblocks.

21. The World: At last we arrive at the end, not only the last posted but the last taken as well. I always knew I wanted Venat/Hydaelyn for this card, as she is the literal heart of our world, as well as an Azem who has reached the end of her journey, as Ardbert was one who was at the beginning of his all the way back at the Fool. But when I didn't use Elidibus anywhere else, I decided to add him here as well, since he also served as the heart of the star for a time. Light and dark united together, watching over Etheirys. The one who destroyed our world in order to save it, and the one who saved our world only to try to destroy it. Perfect symmetry, a completion of the circle. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 9/10. I had to stitch together 3 separate screenshots in photoshop, with the fore and backgrounds cut apart so I could control the opacities separately. Probably the card that took me the longest, but it was worth it.

[pimpnchips]

Needed Me 2

Part 2

Natasha x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight smut, blow!job, slightly mean!

nat.

Summary: heated arguments with Natasha

Authors Note: I’m sorry it took me so fucking long to finish this, I'm okay! but I had major writers block and I wanted to make it good for you guys. I also wanted to put the daughter in here more.

Lena swung her head in your direction, "Mommy I want this one," she whined. The rack of stuffed animals sat on display as your daughter complained about how much she wanted the pink bunny.

"No baby, you remember what mama said."

Last night, Natasha talked to lena about behaving properly. Now that she's getting older you can't keep babying her and supplying all her wants after a tantrum or fit.

So Natasha decided on no extra things outside of the store list for a month so she can learn that you won't be able to get everything she asks for even if she decides on throwing a fit.

"Lena, no means no," scowls natasha. Carrying Mateo in his car seat with her left hand, "Pick her up detka — let's go."

You couldn't help but bite your lip at Natasha's authority

Seeing her do what she does best turned you on in so many ways you couldn't explain. You couldn't stay upset with her no matter how hard you 'tried'.

Heading to your shared bedroom last night, Natasha had a way with her words, instead of hate sex you made love.

You missed her warmth and her touch but there's nothing you miss more than how sexy she looked taking care of her family.

Yes, your wife is a lot of things but you know how deeply she cares for the three of you and if you didn't.. you wouldn't have taken her back.

-

You sighed in frustration, "I'm not trying to upset you baby"

"I never said you did," she muttered, gathering the clothes and putting them into the drawer across from you.

Which was a lie, you knew she was upset because you disagreed with her thoughts of not putting lena into school right now.

You brushed your fingers through her red hair trying your best to comfort her, "I understand there's a risk baby but I want her to have a normal child hood"

Natasha chuckles in disbelief,

"You understand nothing."

You scoff, "Natasha? She's my kid too so what don't I understand?" You started walking across the other side of the room away from her.

"Please, humor me." You sat down in the chair next to the open window, your hands slapping your knee as you sat down.

A blank stare on her face caused you to raise an eyebrow, bouncing your leg impatiently waiting for an answer.

It wasn't surprising that you and Natasha got into an argument today, it was always bound to happen. Sooner or later.

"You do shit like this all the time," she mumbles under her breath, trying to make it hard for you to hear.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Natasha?"

Your wife clutches the shirt in hand, more frustration clouding her eyes as she stares at you. She clearly didn't have an explanation, only acting on impulse.

"Am I the one who forged our divorce? If anybody does stupid shit it's you not me." You protest, rubbing your fingers on your temple.

But there's something about crawling under Natasha's skin that pumps you up. Toying with her is what got you here, having two of her kids and married to her for seven years.

She ignores your directed comment, "There's too many risks."

"She's not attending school and that's final," Natasha grumbled, her head was filled with your nagging comments.

"Nat -" you tried to reason with her.

"Don't" She growls, snapping her eyes up at you.

Your mouth clicks shut, "Sorry," you mumble. She knows how well you respond when she gets pissed off.

Sometimes you can't believe the effect Natasha has on you.

She knows your weaknesses and has no problem showing her mastery over you. Something you craved over the past few months, something a certain someone couldn't give you.

You haven't told Natasha, you figured if she ever found out a another woman came around the house, she'll probably kill the girl.

She's too possessive of you to share you with anyone else. It'll tear her ego down, make her seem like she doesn't have control anymore.

—

"What do you know about banana bread, bunny?" Natasha laughs, hearing your daughter talk about how much she loved the taste of the dessert at the dinner table.

Lena giggles with a wide smile, "Miss Maximoff always makes some for me and mommy" she grins, picking up her last nugget eating it innocently.

Fear was written across your faces as you avoided contact with your wife. Natasha furrows her eyebrows at you, mouthing something you couldn't quite pick up on.

You stood up, "Let's put you to bed baby."

Natasha stared daggers at you, continuing to watch you walk away but you tried your best to not turn around.

The anticipation of waiting for you to get back sent nat over the edge causing her to throw everything off her desk.

"Fuck!" she screamed.

You heard nat scream through the door as your hand hovered over the door nob. You took a short breath to get yourself together before entering.

The door shut behind you, Natasha turned around instantly averting all of her attention to you.

"Natasha"

Before you could finish your sentence, she already had her hand wrapped around your neck causing you to inhale shakily, "Please baby."

Your wife clenched her jaw, staring into your eyes making you feel small under her grasp.

"Did she fuck you?" For a moment you saw her eyes darken, her hands starting to grip tighter forcing you to answer her question with a quivering voice, "No"

She released her hand, slamming it on the wall beside you, "Don't fucking lie to me!"

Your eyes welled up with tears and your body shook at the sudden movement she made. You and Wanda didn't have anything special she was nice but she was too nice for you.

You needed something stronger, you wanted Natasha hence why you never went further than a kiss on the cheek. But in this moment something clicked in you.

You needed her.

You looked up at the red head, moving down onto your knees. You wanted Natasha to know that you were hers and no one else's.

"Get up," she gritted.

Ignoring her statement you unbuttoned her pants pulling it lower until her underwear came off. Her dick sprung free ready to be sucked by you.

After a long pause, she moved forward grabbing your head forcing her cock into your mouth. Your tongue sliding along her length as you bobbed your head up and down. She groaned, holding onto the wall, "She could never fill you up like this" she said between pants.

You locked eyes with your wife who was watching you with pure lust in her gaze. Natasha cleared her throat, cock twitching from her own thoughts.

"You don't deserve my cock, detka."

She smiles at the whimpers that escaped you. Her hips started to move and you moaned.

"You shouldn't be sucking dick like a slutty little whore"

Tearing your gaze away from the cock, which was dripping with pre cum, you stared straight into her piercing orbs.

"We didn't have sex, Natty." You whispered, voice mildly hoarse already.

Natasha's face was flushed, cock weeping precum still.

She hadn't realized how close she was to coming until you stopped. "I know.you wouldn't do that to me," was all she uttered as you moved to take her again.

Natasha groaned, every word dying on her lips as your mouth was back on her cock. "Oh...just like that detka... fuck your mouth takes me so well..." You glanced upwards, watching her throat bob as she tilted her head completely back. A low, husky moan left her lips as you swallowed.

The sound of your daughter's voice from down the hall made you pull back. Saliva and cum dripping down your face as Natasha groaned at the sight, painting your face with her milk-white cum.

She forced your mouth open with her hand, releasing the rest of her cum into your mouth. Seeing you drop to your knees for her and pleasing her needs without asking made her proud. It made her thirst for you more.

You quickly got off your knees in a hurry, rolling your eyes at your crazed wife for making a mess of your face while trying to get up.

"Put your dick in your pants before your daughter comes in here" you whispered by her ear, a demanding tone that surprised natasha.

Quickly walking to the bathroom to clean your face, the sound of your daughter's voice getting closer to the room startled Natasha as she buckled up her pants.

"Mama, where's mommy? I can't sleep" Her hair was all over her head, fingers rubbing her tired eyes.

You shouted from the bathroom, "Mommy's coming baby!"

You threw your face towel down, walking out of the bathroom being met with Natasha sitting on the bed with the little girl tracing her tattoos, her head on her mama's chest.

Lena looked up with a smile making your heartmelt at the sight. "Why was mama screaming earlier?" She questioned, tilting her head.

Natasha bursted into laughter, you quickly sent her a pointed look causing her to quiet down. You sighed at your daughters question, "Nothing love, I was helping her with something"

Lena was even more confused than before, it was written all over her face but she shrugged her shoulders letting it go.

Nat smiled at her confusions, leaning down to kiss the temple of her head.

You smiled at the interaction it made you realize no matter the fights or arguments you and Natasha will have she'll forever be here to love you and the kids.

And you'll always love Natasha.

Even if that meant you needed her more than she needed you.

Needed Me

Tags:

@starfire1008@viosblog112@dvrkhcld@ciao00000111 @ddreader04@twentyonetornmyheart @pancakefan7529@widowstingsposts @rosea-reginae @coxlong

[alexandrafxx]

authors notes: sorry it’s taken so long for me to get this out, ive been busy with my tennis schedule. ill try to get to my inbox either tn or tmrw!! ily all 💗

theacademy

liked by yourusername, leonardodicaprio and 502,667 others!

theacademy Y/n Y/l/n takes home the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her role in Quentin Tarantino’s ‘Once Upon a Time in Hollywood’

tagged: yourusername

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user12 she’s an angel

username99 her acceptance speech brought me to tears 😭

user03 the way nicholas looked at her as she was on stage tho omg

user35 y/n deserves all the awards

theacademy @user35 we agree 🥹

florencepugh the best winner 🤍

liked by yourusername

user09 she looks so good omg

username27 GUYS NICHOLAS WAS THERE

user89 she’s his gf ofc he’s there lol

yourusername

liked by nicholasalexanderchavez, bellahadid and 1,267,009 others!

yourusername grateful beyond belief to have been able to stand on that stage and accept this award.

id like to send thanks to my family and friends for showing me nothing but support, i love you all! id also like to give my deepest gratitudes to Quentin for allowing me this opportunity.

lastly, nicholas, you’ve been my rock through long nights - reminding why i love this industry. i’m only where i am today because of your love and care and i cannot wait until it’ll be my turn watching you on that stage.

this award is mine as much as it is all of yours. i love you all! 💗💗

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bellahadid forever proud of you 😘🦋

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user99 the most genuine and real celeb in a WHILE

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nicholasalexanderchavez I love you more than you’ll ever know! 💗 so very proud of you, my winner 🏆

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user88 were in the era of y/n

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yourusername im flying you out here RN

nicholasalexanderchavez

liked by yourusername, user23 and 745,109 others!

nicholasalexanderchavez winner winner chicken dinner 🍗

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user23 i love how the majority of their posts is just each other now

username89 HOW DOES IT FEEK TO LIVE MY DREAM??!😭

yourusername my 🌎

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user67 im never gonna stop talking abt this

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user01 hopefully never

user67 girl bye he don’t even know who you are

bestfriendsuser fiyeeee 🔥

liked by yourusername and nicholasalexanderchavez

bestfriendsuser posted a story!

caption: guess who she was waving at (it wasn't me) 💔

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Talia found Yasmin's hide out only two days after the bomb.

It wasn't easy. Yasmin had hidden herself well - her monthly reports had never mentioned an acquaintanceship with Vladimir Masters, the absolute gall of that girl - in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin. She bypassed the few security measures with ease, eventually finding her daughter sitting at a kitchen table, hyperventilating.

"What happened?" Talia's voice was cold and demanding.

"The-" Yasmin gasped before stealing herself. "The Fentons are dead."

"I know the Fentons are dead." Talia circled the girl. "One split navel to throat, the other strangled. What. Happened?"

"The Fentons discovered their son was a Meta. Specifically, they thought he had been replaced with the extradimentional species they study." She took a deep breath. "By the time I had discovered their actions, Daniel was... dissected on a table."

Talia closed her eyes. She knew from Yasmin's reports that she'd been acting as the Fenton child's primary caretaker since her adoption and a fondness had developed. "Yasmin-"

"Don't, Mother." She snapped. "Don't act like this is anything less than a tragedy."

"I know-"

"He was a child-"

"Everything's been taken care of," Talia said. "As far as the authorities are concerned, Jasmine Fenton died in that explosion you caused. You need to return now-"

"No!" Yasmin bolted to her feet, glaring at Talia. "He's dead, Mother! An innocent child, the child I raised as my own, is dead because I couldn't protect him! Don't you dare try to sweep this under the rug like... like Danny was something shameful! I'm not leaving! I have to-"

Time Out.

Yasmin shut her mouth mid-sentence, giving Talia time to convince her off her self-destructive path.

"What happened to Daniel is a tragedy, Yasmin. But wallowing in grief and what-ifs only leads to further pain." Talia sighed. "The Fentons and the research you were so fascinated with are gone now. You made sure of that. It's time for you to return home and put that knowledge to use."

Yasmin stared down at her hands. Odd that Talia hadn't noticed, but Yasmin's hands cradled a small, dark blue jewel, polished into a smooth, oblong oval. It glittered under the candlelight, like stars in the sky.

Yasmin swallowed the rock and spoke, refusing to acknowledge what she'd just done. "You are right, Mother. The time of Jasmine Fenton is gone now." She stared straight at Talia, no trace of fear in her gaze. For a moment, Talia wondered where her child had gone. Yasmin never met her eyes unless prompted to when she was growing up. Now she was met with a younger version of herself with cheap dyed-red hair, with the same level of determination that made Talia the Right Hand of the Demon Head. "I will mourn for Danny... on my own time. For now, what is my mission?"

Talia studied her daughter. There was a reason why she'd hidden the girl so far out of the way of her Father and her son. Yasmin was a strong fighter, but had her father's heart, despite her willingness to kill. She'd always reminded Talia of a bodyguard rather than an assassin, but Yasmin wanted to go her own way, wanted to study everything. For years, Talia had indulged her daughter, but now it was time for her to return to the fold.

"For the next month, you will be training to remove any weakness the Fentons may have left in you. After that, you will be guarding an ally for me."

"Which ally?"

"A boy a few years older than you, a son of the Bat." Yasmin didn't react to the mention of her father. Good. "His mind is infirm, but by the time you finish your training, he will be ready to strike a blow against Gotham. You will act as his guard during his training and act as my spy while he's in Gotham. Do you understand?"

For a moment, Yasmin's hand brushed her stomach before she forced her fists to her sides. "Yes, Mother. I will do as you ask."

[ahqkas]

Mattheo with a stubborn gf!reader who hates to be proven wrong. Like she argues with people but when it comes to her bf, she doesn’t have the argue with him and it makes people stumped

-🧚🏾‍♀️💗

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

YOU WERE KNOWN FOR YOUR FIERY SPIRIT AND STUBBORN NATURE, NEVER BACKING DOWN FROM AN ARGUMENT AND ALWAYS STANDING YOUR GROUND. it was something people admired about you, even if it occasionally led to heated debates. your fierce determination and unwavering confidence made you a force to be reckoned with at hogwarts.

but when it came to mattheo riddle, things were different. the short tempered slytherin had a way of disarming you that no one else could manage. it was a fact that left your friends and classmates confused and intrigued. how could the girl who never conceded to anyone so effortlessly relent when it came to her boyfriend?

it happened one afternoon in the slytherin common room. you were engaged in a spirited debate with lorenzo berkshire about the merits of a particular quidditch strategy. voices were raised, and hands gestured wildly as you both tried to make your points. the other slytherins watched with a mix of amusement and anticipation, waiting to see who would come out on top.

"you don't understand, enzo," you insisted, your eyes flashing with determination as you tried to prove your point. "the wronski feint is only effective if the seeker knows exactly when to pull up. otherwise, it's a complete disaster."

enzo shook his head, equally adamant. "but that's precisely why it's such a high-risk, high-reward maneuver. it’s about pushing the limits and taking chances."

just then, mattheo walked in, his presence immediately pulling attention towards him. the boy sauntered over, a curious smile playing on his lips as he observed the heated exchange. he leaned against the back of the sofa, watching the two of you with interest.

"and what does mattheo think?" blaise asked, nudging his friend with a knowing grin. "surely, he has an opinion."

mattheo glanced at you, his gaze steady and confident. "i think," he began slowly, "that both strategies have their merits. but it ultimately comes down to the skill and instincts of the seeker."

you opened your mouth to retort, but something in mattheo's calm demeanor made you pause. there was a quiet authority in his voice that made you reconsider your stance. with a sigh, the fight left your eyes as you relented from the argument. "fine," you muttered, crossing your arms. "maybe you're right."

the common room fell silent, and all eyes turned to you in shock. enzo blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden concession while the win of this argument fled from his mind completely. "did she just . . . agree?" he asked incredulously.

mattheo's smile widened, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. "it’s all about perspective," he said lightly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. you leaned into him, feeling a warmth spread through you. despite your stubborn nature, mattheo had a way of making you see things differently. his calm confidence and unwavering support made you feel safe enough to admit when you were wrong, something you rarely did with anyone else.

later, as you walked through the castle corridors with your boyfriend by your side, you couldn't help but reflect on how much he had changed you. he had taught you that it was okay to let your guard down and that being proven wrong wasn't a sign of weakness. it was a lesson that had made you stronger, and it was all because of him.

"you know," you said, glancing up at him with a smile, "i still think i’m right most of the time."

mattheo smirked at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "of course you do," he replied, his fingers intertwining with yours. "my clever girl."

[shdysders]

mistake

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which tara makes a mistake she can't undo

word count: 3.4k

warnings: violence, blood, stabbing, blood & death.

author’s note: feel like my writing is deteriorating, so sorry this might not be the greatest.

When you heard that Mindy and Ethan had been separated from the rest of the group, you immediately knew nothing was going to go according to the plan.

Everything had happened so fast. First accusation news about Sam had streamed on television, then Quinn's bloody corpse had fallen on top of you, then Anika wasn't able to make it across the latter, her bloody hands and Ghostface's shaking had made her slip. You had lost two of your friends in less than fifteen minutes.

You hadn't heard of the killings in Woodsboro until you had met Tara the first day of junior year, but she made sure to tell you everything that had happened the closer the two of you got.

Based on everything you had heard, you understood why Sam was so protective over Tara, the Carpenter sisters had been through more than normal people have in a lifetime.

However, even though you were nothing but nice and understanding towards Sam, she didn't seem to like you.

The first time Tara had brought you home to the apartment, Sam had kept a burning gaze on you for the whole time, like she wanted to burn you alive.

You thought that she would warm up and eventually trust you like she seemed to do with Anika, Quinn and Ethan, but she never did.

And it only got worse once Tara had called you her girlfriend in front of her, a huge disagreement broke out, so big that Sam had sent you out of the apartment.

You never got to know what Sam had said after that, but you did know that the glares you got from Sam only worsened and so did the small comments she would make about you when she thought you didn't hear.

Such as now, when Sam and Tara were walking in front of you, the theater being the destination. You had this gut feeling that Sam was currently talking about you. You just knew she was, even tho you couldn't hear her voice nor did you see her head moving like it normally did when she spoke, you knew.

But your mind changed thoughts when she rapidly turned on her heel, stopping when she was in front of Danny who had been walking closely behind you, alongside Kirby.

"Not you." She said, her voice cracking.

"What?" He answered almost immediately, like he had been expecting it.

"Don't trust anyone remember?" Sam replied.

You watched the scene with worried eyes, what Sam said reminded you way too much of something she had told Tara when she thought you weren't near. "We don't know you.. not really."

His face expression looked hurt, almost taken aback when Sam spoke. "You know me."

"You're not Woodsboro." She spoke quickly, rage lacing her voice.

Tara looked down at her shoes after that was said, her lips finding a home between her teeth. You knew she was scared, because you were as well. You had no idea how things were going to go down, you had never experienced something as brutal like this before.

You were seconds away from putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, before she looked up at you with tears pricking her eyes.

"That goes for you too." She swallows thickly, trying her hardest to look into your eyes.

You furrowed your eyebrows, panic rising through you. "W-what?" Your voice came out as a stutter, not believing what she had just made it's way out of her mouth.

Tara just nodded unsurely, her eyes looked sad and were filled with doubt. You couldn't understand why. If she was sad about it, why would she say it?

"Tara I- you can't be serious." You spoke again, voice growing shakier by the minute.

She knew very well how terrified you were about the situation as it was, and yet she still chose to leave you out of the plan alongside Sam's unknown fuck buddy? If it didn't make you shake out of fear you would've been infuriated.

"You're not Woodsboro." She stated, same thing as her sister but in a different tone, she'd tried to sound calm, but her voice was filled with uncertainty, shaky with worry.

You knew she was right. You weren't Woodsboro. You had never been to the place nor did you knew it existed before Tara came along. But the fact that she didn't trust you enough to know for certain that you weren't Ghostface, made you feel the need to fall apart. Did she really think you would kill your friends? Let alone hurt them?

The thought made your eyes sting, and before you had the chance to wipe the tears away, they fell.

"Tara please I promise I-" You felt embarrassed, being so vulnerable over basically nothing.

All eyes were on you as you tried to keep the tears from falling, you felt ridiculous. But you were terrified.

You couldn't stand the thought of being left alone in this situation. Not only because you were scared of being alone, but also because you had to protect Tara.

Although you knew Sam would do a perfectly fine job of keeping her safe, but you wanted to do it, you had to. You wanted to prove to Sam that you loved Tara almost the same amount as she did, you wanted to prove to Tara she could trust you with her life.

You could see that Tara wanted to give in, tell you that you could come along and that she trusted you with her whole being. Her eyes were filled with regret and doubt. But you could tell that she wasn't going to change her mind anytime soon.

She just watched you, biting her lips hard enough to draw blood. Seeing the look on your face just made her want to squeeze you in a hug hard enough to make you faint.

You looked so scared, and the fact that she knew how scared you were about the whole situation, made everything worse. She had noticed the terrified look on your face that hadn't left since the attack at the apartment, your trembling hands and the layer of tears in your eyes that never fell.

Tara actually thought that you looked more scared than both Sam and her combined.

"Y/n please just stay here." She tried to reason, as if she wanted this. But she did want it. She wanted you to be safe.

You wanted to argue, tell her that you would refuse to come along. But you knew that you wouldn't get anywhere with it, Tara was stubborn, she always got what she wanted somehow. And you didn't want Sam to see you argue with Tara, that certainly wouldn't help you get on better terms with her.

So you gave in, even though you knew Tara's life was at stake. Sam will take care of her, you tried to tell yourself.

You quickly wiped the tears on your cheeks with your hand, even though everybody had already seen them.

Tara's eyes never left your figure as she watched your trembling hands. "Fine." You almost spit, voice cracking with worry.

Tara nodded at that, happy to hear you give in. You didn't pay attention to anybody's reaction other than hers, they didn't seem to matter.

She walked closer to you, placing a kiss on your faintly tear stained cheek. "Be safe." She said, as if she wasn't the one that was about to walk into a situation that she would either leave traumatized or not leave at all.

"Be safe." You repeated, before you watched them all walk away towards the building.

Seeing as Sam turned her head to Tara and whispered 'good call', as they walked away.

But when you turned around to try and make a decent conversation with Danny, he was nowhere in sight. Making even more worry creep in your bones.

***

You had been pacing around in the same place and pattern for 20 minutes without any progress, Danny was gone, and your phone was dead.

The streets where dead and empty.

You had half a mind to just run to the theaters and do the exact opposite of what Tara had instructed you to. But you knew well enough that both of the Carpenter sisters would quite literally murder you if you stepped a foot into their plan.

But eventually the worry and stress got to you, like it always did. You didn't care if you were going to get murdered whether if it were by Tara or Ghostface, if it was for protecting Tara, it was a good reason.

However, before you had the chance to change your mind or consider the other options, a glove-covered hand landed on your face, covering your mouth tightly.

The yelp and screams you tried to make was inaudible, nobody could hear them.

You felt a surge of fear and panic, unable to hear your own scream. The street grew eerily silent as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest. Rush of intense vulnerability and confusion, as you desperately searched for a way to escape the grasp of the unknown assailant.

But you knew who it was. It was Ghostface.

You tried to kick them with your legs, but none of them seemed to hit. The person was holding a strong grip on your mouth, and the other arm was firmly placed around your waist. You were unable to move out of any of the grips, the person was too strong. And you weren't.

Your panic was making it harder to breath, and you were beginning to feel as if you were about to faint any second.

You tried your best to remove the grip with your hands, gripping hardly on the muscular arms, trying so hard to get them away from you.

The tightened arms had veins all over them, yet another reminder that it was impossible for you to get away.

It was Danny, you tried to tell yourself over the ringing in your ears. It had to be Danny. He had left the second you were alone with him. It had to be him.

Muffled screams and ringing ears were the only noises you could make out. If the person behind you was speaking in a voice changer to you or not, you had no idea.

The panic you felt was replaced with relief when the thought of using your elbow to hit the individual behind you entered your mind.

But you never got the chance to do that.

Seconds before your elbow was about to meet the Ghostface mask, you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen.

All of the movements you were making stopped the second you realized what it was.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Seven times you could feel the sharp piece of metal enter and exit your abdomen. A gasp escaped your mouth after every single one of them.

You tried to scream, but nobody was around. Your wide eyes scanned through the street, yet again seeing that nobody was there. It was all empty.

Normally the streets of New York would be filled with drunk teenagers and late night workers, whether it was night or afternoon.

But when the news about the killers got out, everybody stayed inside. Some people didn't even bother to leave for work, and of course no parties. Even the homeless people seemed to have found another place to stay at.

You didn't realize that numbness was spreading through your legs until the potential male had slowly began to loosen the grip he had on your figure.

Before you had time to think, he had completely let go.

Suddenly you felt dizzy, you couldn't feel your feet, you couldn't feel your legs, you couldn't feel anything.

You could barely feel your legs giving up, nor did you feel your body hitting the ground as you tried to cover up the damage that had been made on your lower stomach.

Regardless the sharp pain in your body that almost made it impossible to breathe and the dizziness that got worse every time you moved, you tried to crawl towards the fence that was just centimeters away.

Your hands bloody from trying to add pressure to your wounds made trails on the asphalt.

You couldn’t tell if you had placed your hands on the right place, considering that the stab wounds were all over the place. And you didn't even dare to look down, because you could guarantee that it wouldn't be a pleasant sight.

Your eyes were starting to close by themselves and you were struggling to keep them open.

Everything hurt.

The pressure you were putting on the wounds was now becoming lighter, your hands didn't seem to have any strength left in them.

Tara would be here soon, you thought, desperately.

She would be here soon, everything would be okay; no more Ghostface attacks, no more Sam hating you, and no more unexpected death cases of your friends.

Your mind focused on Tara.

Her brown hair, her beautiful brown eyes, her dimples and her breathtaking smile. Her voice, her touch, and her joyful laugh.

Your eyes closed, and this time you couldn't stop them. The pressure on your wounds was no longer existent. The color in you was gone. You were gone.

Last thought being the girl you wanted to marry.

***

Tara left the building with a lump in her stomach, as big as a bowling ball.

Her body was filled with worry and guilt, but a part of her felt relief. She was relieved that everything was over now. No more Ghostfaces. She was done with them, truly.

Tara couldn't wait to see you. She was going to tell you that the decision she made was right, that she was happy you stayed behind, because you stayed safe.

But when Danny had walked into the theater, tackling all kinds of officer in his way, he was all alone. You weren't there, you didn't come with him.

Danny told them that the two of you had lost sight of each other rather quickly after they'd left, that you probably just needed to be alone and breathe for a moment.

Tara knew that you would be upset with her, for not allowing you to come with them, for not letting you protect her, like you always told her you would, even if it meant dying.

Although she had hoped for you to at least come to see if she made it out alive.

Danny had called the cops and ambulance to arrive at the place as soon as he got the chance. That's why the only thing in Tara's sight was ambulances, police cars and the fire department.

Chad had miraculously made it out alive, same with Mindy and Kirby. And even though that made Tara want to cry out in happy tears, she couldn't let herself feel anything until she had seen you.

Safe and secure. Like you should've been.

Panic began to rise within Tara as minutes passed without any sight of you.

Sam stood beside her, trying to sooth her younger sister with comforting words. But they didn't make anything better for her.

After the whole showdown, the two Carpenter sister's had talked, really talked.

Sam had tried to explain to Tara that she didn't actually hate you, the opposite really. She thought you were lovely and a perfect match for Tara. But she didn't want to take any risks.

She wanted to show you the walls to her trust weren't easy to break. And then she thought that if she acted rude towards you, you would eventually leave; meaning there was no need for Sam to let her guard down and open up to people she didn't know.

But Sam knew how much Tara loved you, she had been listening to her sister's rambling about you everyday.

That's why Sam could feel her heart sinking down her entire being when her eyes met with a stretcher where a body was placed, a morgue sheet on top of it, which was filled with blood.

Sam prayed that it was somebody else. That you had walked somewhere else to breathe just like Danny had assumed.

She felt the need to distract Tara before she had the chance to see it, but it was too late.

She had already seen it.

Tara screamed out your name in a sob, straight away assuming that you were the person underneath the white cover.

The woman who had been pushing the stretcher had stopped, turning around to try and give the man behind her any sort of information about the deceased individual.

Tara's legs moved faster than she could process, Sam following shortly after.

Heart pounding, hands trembling. With a swift of motion, she grabbed the edge of the wrap and pulled it upward, revealing your pale and peaceful face.

The vibrant hues that once painted your face were now gone, leaving behind a pale and ghostly visage. The colors had been drained from you, you no longer looked like yourself.

Tara could feel herself gasp loudly at the sight, turning around with a hand placed on her mouth.

A surge of sickness overwhelmed her. A gut-wrenching sensation, as if her stomach was about to revolt. She felt like she was on the verge of throwing up, basically feeling the acidic liquids rise within her.

It was you. Her girl. Dead. Gone.

Sam had the same reaction to the sight, gasping and putting her hand on her mouth, preventing from letting out any tears or sounds. Chills running down her spine.

Stop it. Pull it together. Tara. Tara needs you. Sam told herself.

Gaze shifting from your body and the bloody sheet upon you to her younger sister, who was sobbing beside her, about to fall down to her knees.

But when Sam put a hand on Tara's shoulder, she stood straighter. "No!" She shot up, voice raspy.

She looked at you again, but this time not caring for the feeling inside of her throat that threatened her. "She's not dead." Tara spoke again, trying to convince herself that you were alive, that she could save you.

"Tara-" Sam tried, but Tara had no interest in listening to her sister.

"Y/n. Baby, look at me." Tara gently brushed her fingertips against your cheeks, but quickly pulled away when she felt the chill that pierced through her body, for they were once a source of warmth and comfort, now distant and cold.

You were always warm.

The tears streamed down Tara's face, leaving even more mascara smudges on her cheeks, falling and leaving marks on her blue shirt. The shirt that you had gotten her.

"Sam, Come on! help me please" She begged for her big sister's help, still hoping that you could be saved.

At that sentence, the woman who had pushed you turned around, she seemed to have heard Tara's pleads and begs, filled with hope, wishing that you were alive. "Oh honey, this girl has been deceased for over an hour...we can't save her."

The woman spoke apologetically and looked at Tara with sorrowed eyes. "I'm so sorry." She ended. Tara was about to scream at the lady, yell at her and tell them to at least try, you weren't gone. There was no way.

But before Tara got the chance to argue, Sam had pulled her into her chest, embracing Tara with a hug. And at that, Tara broke.

The sobs left her mouth faster than she could take them in, she didn't have any space to breathe.

"She's gone." She cried, her tears staining the older woman's shirt. "And I wasn't there to help her." Tara rambled, talking rapidly before the next sob would escape.

Sam didn't know what to say. She just stroke her younger sister's hair, trying to soothe her sobs.

She had never seen Tara this vulnerable and emotionally ruined, not even when she had reunited with Tara at the hospital the previous year.

Tara's body shook violently as each sob left her mouth.

It was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

Tara had been so confident with her decision only minutes before. She thought she had made the right move.

But it turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life.

A mistake she couldn't take back, and had to live with for the rest of her time alive.

[luvyeni]

RIDIN' WITH YOU ,, 이제노

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ streetracer!jeno x fem!reader wc. 5.7k

genre. smut

🦢◞  including ... illegal street racing, oral ( fem. receiving ), unprotected sex

request. Can I request a biker jeno where the reader is almost ran over by him on a motorcycle and they start knocking into each other from there

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy it !

❪ masterlist! ❫

being new to the city you weren't aware of the roads you weren't supposed to take; and yeah the road was quiet which was weird, but you didn't question it.

“why didn't you just take a cab?” chaeryoung, your roommate asked , “it's the quickest way to the apartment.” she was right it was the quickest way back to your shared apartment, but being new and all you just wanted to take a look at the city. “night time surely isn't the best time to do that but all right.” she said. “i know but i'm almost home , wait up for me yeah?” she hummed. “okay.”

you hung up; continuing down the road, unbeknownst to you, the street you used wasn't always quiet, in fact it was the loudest street at night and you'd soon find out why.

jeno pulled up to the lot , street full of motorcycles and other people waiting for the show. “you're late.” haechan said. “yeah well i had a class, i couldn't just leave.” he said. “look at you trying to be all studious.” he rolled his eyes at the boy. “where's mark, need to know who im racing today.” haechan pointed to the older boy who was chatting up some girl. “renjun knows ask him.”

“jaemin and some new kid.” renjun told the boy. “new kid is over there, jaemin will probably be your only competition tonight.” he smirked. “jaemin? my competition please?” the other overheard this , his arm was wrapped around one of the many girls who'd come and watch them ride. “you scare jeno lee?” he smirked. “please jaemin when was the first time you've won against me?”

“you wanna bet on it?” jeno didn't really care about money, he loved the thrill of speeding down a road; that doesn't mean he was gonna pass up. “$100?” he shook hands with the boy. “both of you gear up , it's time to hit the road.”

the cheers were loud; the motors from the three motorcycles roared as they waited for mark’s call. “remember be careful, don't die; i won't be the one calling your parent's.” he turned to the scared newbie, turning to jaemin who was too busy making out with a girl to notice; this was gonna be too easy. “jaemin!” jisung another racer called. “i'm ready.” he said putting his helmet on.

“alright you guys ready” mark shouted over the screams, jeno focused on the road. “go!” jeno took off , speeding down the road , this is the part he loved , hitting the gas hard, speeding up down the road that no one ever used; so he wasn't suspecting someone to be crossing the road.

the loud music blasting through your headphones as you came up on the street end of the street; ready to cross the street— maybe you should've looked both ways like you were taught as a young child, or even taken the your headphones off; because if you did you would've heard the motorcycle that's was bolting down the road. stepping out into the street , the only thing finally catching your attention was the light; looking up, the only thing you could brace for was death— but it never came.

he was in the lead; coming up on the turn that would put close to the finish line. the light from his bike was bright so he could see the road in front of him; he didn't even notice you; until he did and it was too late to beep the horn or slow down, your eyes finally connecting with his , you were an actual deer in the headlights, he took a hard right, a quick turn around he saw you on the ground , shocked.

he kept going; he almost hit you and he kept going. turning the corner after almost hitting the pole, you were in shock; quickly standing up out of the street , running across the rest of the street, you were in luck too because two more motorcycles came roaring down the street , turning down the same block.

the shock of almost dying finally wore off; then the pain set in, looking down at your knees , you noticed the blood dripping from it. “that's just great.” you winced— you for sure we're taking a cab home next time, screw trying to see what the city had to offer, clearly it had jerks in leather jackets who were trying to kill you and themselves.

speeding past the line; people cheering for his victory, but he was pissed. the two bikes coming in; he hopped off his bike taking his helmet off, throwing it to the ground in anger. “whoa what fuck is wrong with you?” renjun asked. “why are you so upset you won?” mark asked , jaemin taking his helmet off. “im $100 dollars broke now thank you very much.” he said bitterly. “i almost hit some chick on the street , i fucked up the turn almost hit a pole.” he growled.

“i didn't see a girl.” jaemin said. “you sure it just wasn't an animal?” mark asked. “how many animals you know that are 5 feet and wear dressing.” he picked his helmet up, a large chip in due to him slamming it on the ground. “shit.” he hissed. “don't worry about it right now.” mark comforted the boy. “look, let's just get you a drink and girl, the night is still young and there's many races left , haechan and johnny are racing tonight.”

“haechan and johnny?” he said confused. “haechan thinks he can beat Johnny.” he laughed. “has the last three time not proven anything?” the elder shook his head. “everyone is betting against him , jisung felt bad so he voted for him , he's in for a rude awakening, let's go.” he said , the boy followed behind , completely ready to forget about the girl he almost hit.

…

“i told you to take a cab; you didn't and now look.” chaeryoung said as you walked through the campus; she walked you more so limped, the results of the fall. “how was i supposed to know they do races on that street?” you asked. “um, did the quiet road not imply anything?” she had a point, of course you weren't gonna admit it. “yeah well that doesn't matter, im never walking again.”

“i gave you the money, i still want a rematch though.” jaemin said , jeno scoffed, they were hanging around during break waiting for their classes to start. “you and haechan are gonna go broke trying to prove something.” he laughed. “hey i almost beat johnny last night.” renjun rolled his eyes. “please, he had you by 10 blocks.” jeno laughed at his friend's expense. “you’ll get him next time.” he knew he was lying but who was he to shut down his friends dreams. “i gotta go now.” he checked his phone. “gotta take my bike to the shop and get a new helmet after class.” he stood up , walking away.

“i have a shift today at the store.” you said. “you sure you'll be able to work today, what about your leg?” you nodded. “doyoung let's me sit down so it's fine.” you looked down at your knee, luck just wasn't on your side again because before chaeryoung could call for you to look up, you were bumping against a hard surface. “umph.” chaeryoung caught you before you fell. “jesus do i need to bubble wrap you?”

“you okay?” the voice of the person you bumped into said. “im fine.” you picked up your books that you dropped. “luckily my phone isn't cracked.” you finally looked at him, his eyes widening. “you.”

“yn?” chaeryoung looked at you, with confusion in her eyes. “do i know you?” you asked. “you should i almost killed you last night,” he said folding his arms. “well why are you upset with me? You almost killed me, not the other way around.” you frowned. “why were you on that road in the first place, any smart person knows what's it used for.” was he serious right now? he almost kills you and he's asking questions. “not if they're new to the city which i am.” you shot back. “you don't seem to be hurt, meanwhile my knee is messed up, are you gonna apologize for that?” he scoffed. “are you dead?”

“well no.” you said, he nodded, with a smug smile speaking. “well there's your apology.” was all he said, before he turned on his heel walking away. “what an asshole.” chaeryoung said. “he almost kills you and doesn't have the decency to apologize.” she scoffed. “who even is that?” you asked. “jeno lee, him and his group of degenerate friends do illegal street racing for cash sometimes.” she said. “you've been?” you asked. “absolutely not , i wouldn't be caught dead now there, ryujin, my friend from my class races down there , she's the only girl.” she said. “hot.” you said, she rolled her eyes. “don't let her hear you say that , it will go to her head.”

“everything looks fine, the breaks need tightening though.” johnny said after looking at his bike. “and you need a new helmet,” he said. “thank you johnny.” he said. “i thought something might've broken, i took a hard turn last night.” he said. “yeah i heard you hit a girl last night.” he scoffed. “i didn't hit her , in fact she has only a scratch.” he said. “you know her?” the elder asked. “not really, apparently she goes to the same university, she bumped into me earlier.”

“clumsily girl, she pretty?” johnny asked with a smirk. “she has a mouth on her.” he grumbled. “not what i asked.” jeno looked at the boy. “she's cute.” he confessed, he could remember your bows in your hair from earlier, he remembers one thing from that night, you had the same ones. “how cute?” johnny smirked , jeno rolled his eyes. “are you gonna fix my breaks today or do i need to call a cab back home?”

“it's not gonna take that long, i can be done in about an hour.” jeno nodded. “thanks so much.” he said , his stomach rumbling. “the convenience store is still open, go get something to eat.” johnny said. “by time you come back it should be done.” jeno nodded. “i’ll be right back.” he said. “bring me back a pack of smokes.” he left out the auto body shop doors.

“is it broken? have you been to the doctors?” doyoung, your boss asked worriedly. “i should've made you get into a cab, you're new here, you don't know your way around.” you laughed. “i'm fine doyoung, just a little pain , it will go away soon, stop worrying so much.” you said. “how can i not , you're one of my best workers, and i only have two.” he said. “and do you see haechan anywhere , i'll die if you leave.” he stressed. “try and stay off it , lord, what am i gonna do with you kids.” he walked to the back, you smiled at your boss.

“what did you get for number 13?” chaeryoung said over the phone, just as the door opened. “hello.” you didn't bother looking up at the person. “it's 12.” you said. “12? i got 2.” she said. “im not sure why— look i have customers we'll finish this later.” you said, “and redo that math, it's not correct.” you hung up, just as a lady and her daughter came up to the register. “hello.” you smiled, the lady looked remorseful. “im sorry my daughter spilled a milk in the isle.” she said the little girl hid behind her mother. “hey sweetie, it's okay.” you grabbed a loli from the counter. “here , my boss won't mind.” you whispered , smiling. “thank you.” she smiled.

“don't worry, i'll clean it up.” you said as they left the store. “thank you so much and im so sorry.” she quickly ushered her child out. “crap.” you stood up a pain shooting through your leg. “ow fuck!” you whispered shouted bending down to fix the bandage. “give me a pack of smokes.” you straighten up, “i need more than that.” you said , finally realizing who it was. “you again?”

he made eye contact with you. “for someone that's new to the city , you surely are everywhere,” he said. “or are you just following me.” he smirked. “yeah, i managed to track where you lived , and got a job within the hours.”

“i don't live around here princess, im getting my bike fixed.” he said , you gulped. “do-dont call me that.” you stuttered. “a pack of smokes please.” he smirked , noticing your red face. “princess.” you turned around, grabbing a random pack of cigarettes. “h-here, give me the money.” you said , taking his bills putting them in register. “did i break your bike?”

“why princess , you feel bad?” he smiled , gosh his smile was so charming. “we-well — it's fine you didn't do anything, bikes need fixing sometimes.” he said. “especially with what i do.” you nodded. “good.” you said , taking in his appearance. “i-i have to clean that milk up.”

he watched you walk away; he noticed you limping to the back, waiting for you to get back with the mop and bucket; feeling bad , he sat his food down, walking over to you. “move back , go sit down.” he grabbed the mop. “i can do it.” you said. “im trying to apologize princess , go sit down.” he said , you limped back to your seat , watching him , he was incredibly fit , his body flexing in his jacket , it made you hot. “the way you're staring at me , someone can come in and steal and you wouldn't even know princess.” he put the mop in the bucket , putting it to the side , turning with a smirk. “i-i wasn't staring.”

“sure.” he said. “you shouldn't walk home.” he said. “why are you and your friends racing?” he scoffed. “because of your leg.” he said. “well im not , i’ll catch a cab.” you said , handing him his food. “here you go.” you said. “let me take you home.” he said. “on your bike?” you asked. “the thing that almost killed me , im fine.”

“i'll go slow.” he said, you thought about it. “you promise?” he looked at you, doe like eyes , much like what he saw that night. “yeah , princess, i'll go as slow as you like, although faster is always better.” the underlying sexual undertones to that made your body tingle. “so is that a yes?” you nodded. “if it's not too much , i get off in an hour.”

“i just have to go pick up my bike, the auto body shop is only around the corner , wait for me outside okay?” you nodded , smiling. “okay.” you said, he returned a smile. “don't miss me too much princess.” he winked before leaving out the store leaving you flustered.

johnny was almost finished by the time he returned back from the store. “what helmets do girl riders use?” he looked through the helmets. “well your head isn't the size of girls , so why are you asking?” johnny asked. “the girl i almost ran into, she works at the convenience store around the corner.” he said , watching the elder smirk. “she hurt her leg, im giving her ride home.”

“you're buying her a helmet.” johnny said. “you haven't seen this girl, she's not getting on without one, and mine is too big, are you gonna help or not?” the boy said. “this one.” johnny handed him a helmet. “it's pink.” jeno said. “trust me.” he shook his head. “fine.” he handed the boy his card. “be careful.” he said. “please i've had girls on my bike before.”

“where's your cab?” doyoung asked closing up the store; he insisted on waiting with you. “i'm not exactly catching a cab.” just as you said that , the roar of a motorcycle came down the street, jeno stopping in front of the store. “doyoung.” he said. “tell johnny he owes me $50 dollars.” johnny nodded. “multiple packs of cigarettes a week , he's costing me my business.” mumbling making you laugh. “come on princess , we gotta go.”

“you're getting on that thing?” doyoung said. “i pay you enough, you should be able to afford a cab.” he said. “he offered.” you said. “i even got her a helmet.” jeno interrupted. “see.” doyoung nodded. “don't go fast , and hold on tight , if you get hurt i can't be stuck with haechan , tell him to call in every once in a while, jeno , i don't pay him to slack off and barely come in.” you waved to doyoung. “see you tomorrow, okay?” you walked over to the boy. “here.”

he handed you a pink helmet with the tag still on. “did you just buy this?” you asked. “no i keep it just in case.” he said sarcastically. “don't worry about that , just put it on and get on.” he said , you put the helmet on , slowly climbing on the back. “okay let's go.” he laughed. “oh princess , you clearly haven't done this before.” he reached back, grabbing your hands. “wh-what?” he wrapped them around his waist. “so you won't fall off.” he said. “tighter baby.” you wish he would stop with those names. “is this tight enough?”

he smirked , taking off; you yelped , your arms locking around his waist. “you jerk!” you shrieked; he felt your head leaning on his back as he flew down the streets of the city.

you peaked your eyes open , seeing the cars and buildings fly by; you fully opened your eyes , slowly sticking your hand out to feel the wind , jeno could see you through the window , he smiled , coming to a stop light. “you like it?” he asked. “can you slow down a bit?” he heard your small voice. “it is pretty though.” you said. “and the wind feels nice.”

the light turned red , signaling him to go. “we’re almost to your dorm , hang on.” he said. “I'll go slower.” he said taking off , a little bit slower , but it was much better , he could feel your arms around his waist as he pulled up in front of your dorm. “we're here princess , you can open your eyes.”

he helped you off the bike , taking the helmet off your head. “that thing is scary.” you said. “how do you ride it all the time?” he smiled. “it's the adrenaline princess , the rush.” he said. “that's what i love about it.” you chewed on your bottom lip. “you know how your bows is your choice of drug?” you pouted , he smiled. “this mines.”

“yours is gonna get yourself hurt.” you said. “you worried about me princess , earlier you were ready to chop my head off.” you folded your arms. “well that's because you didn't apologize, now that you have , and you've been nice to me , i can't help but stress.” you said. “i can handle myself , don't worry that pretty little head,” he said. “go in and ice that knee,” he said. “my name is yn.” you said. “i know princess , i read your nametag,” he said, you scoffed. “bye bye jeno.” you waved him off. “go in princess.” he watched you go inside the dorms , before putting his helmet on , speeding back down the road.

…

“i still can't believe you get on that thing.” chaeryoung said , it had been a week since then , you've seen him a few times , he even gave you a ride home after class. “and with him nonetheless.” you both walked through the campus after class. “you don't know him he's a degenerate yn.” she said. “he is nice and even bought me a helmet.” you said. “oh well then i guess that makes it okay , you hear my sarcasm right.” she scoffed. “he goes slow.” you shrugged. “after i told him to.” you said. “you talking about me, princess?”

you jumped hearing the voice, turning around. “i don't appreciate being called a degenerate.” jeno said. “don't worry, i mean your friends as well.” chaeryoung looked to the boy on his left. “especially you na jaemin.” the boy smirked. “still upset about me not calling you back?” you could see your friend about to snap. “we're gonna go.” you grabbed her hand , turning to walk away.

“there's a show tonight, you should come.” jeno said. “and why would she do that?” chaeryoung said , he looked at you. “princess?” his gaze pierced through your skin, you chewed your bottom lip. “i-i have to work.” you said. “that's okay , it's at night.” he said. “i can pick you up, i still have the helmet” he smirked. “yn?” chaeryoung said. “well i mean ryujin will be there.” you said. “it couldn't hurt, could it?” you shrugged. “i told ryujin i did before going to one of those things.”

“i can give you a ride.” jaemin said with a smirk , she scoffed. “and it looks like i will die before going.” jeno tapped you. “i'll pick you up after work yeah?” you nodded with a smile. “okay.” you said. “chaeryoung you riding with me?” jaemin winked. “i'll take my chances with ryujin , go fuck yourself na jaemin.” she grabbed your hand , dragging you away. “bye bye!” you waved.

“she's cute.” jaemin said once you were out of earshot. “you like her?” he watched his friend stare at you until he could no longer see you. “i'll take that as a yes.” he patted his friend's shoulders. “you bought her a helmet?” jeno slapped his friends hand off of him. “shut up.” he said. “those things are like a hundred dollars, you met her a week ago, are you crazy?” they continued down the campus , as his friend teased him. “haechan is gonna love this.”

“are you crazy?” doyoung asked; he was so confused on how you met jeno when you entered the shop; so you explained to him— and you may have let it slip that you were going to the race. “yn are you trying to stress me out?” he said. “no need to panic.” you said. “no it is , those bikes are not safe, im worried.” he said. “chaeryoung, my friend she's coming with me , i'll be extra safe.” you reassured the man who became like your older brother. “you better , i'll kill jeno if you get hurt.”

“you better go slow while she's on there.” doyoung hounded the boy. “let me see the helmet she's wearing.” you put your hand on his shoulder. “doyoung , please go before someone robs the store.” he said. “be careful.” he said , before walking away. “are you two related?” he asked. “no i told you i'm new to the city.” you said. “then why is he up my ass like you are?” he got off the bike , opening the seat to grab the helmet. “here.” he said , putting the helmet on your head , helping you on to the bike. “arms princess.”

you wrapped your arms around his waist. “you can go faster today.” he smirked. “yeah , you liked the rush yesterday, didn't you?” you slapped his back. “it's okay little adrenaline junkie , i'll go faster.” he put his helmet on. “hold on tighter baby.” he said right before he turned on the motorcycle , the roar of bike making you flinch. “you're okay , i promise , i won't let you get hurt.” he said before speeding off down the street.

you had to admit , the feeling as you both sored down the street sparked a feeling inside you , you actually managed to keep your eyes open , the sun was setting , the pretty colors blurred with the passing cars , jenos sent was calming to , he checked on you every time you stopped , the heart fluttering jester made you smile , he was actually nice.

he slowed down as you came up on the empty street. “hey this is where you almost killed me.” he scoffed , “but i didn't did i princess?” you nodded. “i guess.” you said. “i haven't harmed you yet, have i?” he said , you started to hear more bikes. “no.” you said. “and i won't , i promise.” he said , you began to see people , a lot of people. “we're here,” he said.

he helped you off the bike , taking your helmet off. “it's loud here , how don't people catch you?” you asked. “luck.” he said, fixing your hair , you blushed. “well would you look at this?” you heard a voice. “when jaemin told me you were bringing someone , i thought he was joking , the bastard was right.”

“that's haechan.” jeno said, “you are the cutest thing.” he held his hand out. “h-hi.” you took it , shaking , making the man in front of you jealous , he pushed it aside , glaring at the boy. “your friend is over there , let me go get checked in and i'll bring you a drink , okay?” you nodded , walking away. “you bought her a helmet?” haechan said. “jaemin said you only knew her for a day.” haechan laughed. “you like her?” they made their way over to the check in. “what does it matter to you?”

“you wanna bet on her?” he said , jeno turned to the boy. “what the fuck do you mean by that?” he questioned. “you know what i mean , don't be dumb.” the other boy smirked. “you win , she's yours , i win — finish that sentence i dare you.” mark noticed the two , stepping in. “hey you know the rules , no fist fighting, you wanna go you use the bikes.” he said.

“what do you say jeno?” jeno scoffed. “you know you can't beat me haechan.” haechan shrugged. “a cutie like that gives me all the motivation i need.” jeno was about to lunge at the boy when jaemin stopped him. “you know he's just trying to get in your head.” the boy said. “you want race lee , let's do it.”

“this is ryujin , she's racing tonight.” chaeryoung said. “really?” you said. “who?” you questioned. “me princess.” jeno handed you a drink. “princess? didn't think you were the relationship type lee.” ryujin said , chaeryoung scoffed. “because he isn't. “who said that?” he said looking at you , your heart pounded. “well loverboy who else is racing?” ryujin asked. “haechan.” her eyebrows furrowing. “okay , you, i understand , you're competition , but hyuck , he lost to jisung.”

“haechan wanted to race me.” he said. “why?” you asked , looking at him with those doe eyes again. “because he has a humiliation kink princess , don't worry,” he said. “well be careful.” you said. “i will.” his hand coming up to your cheek , pinching it , making you giggle. “come on lover boy the show is about to start.” ryujin said. “wait for me at the finish line, yeah?” you nodded. “okay.”

“what was all that about?” chaeryoung asked. “met you only a week and he's already smitten , you got some type of love spell perfume on?” you laughed. “no.” you said , smiling to yourself. “well i see the feelings are mutual , all i say is be careful and be safe.” she said , you nodded. “racers at the mark.”

jeno kept his eyes on you , you waved at him ; he laughed, waving back. “don't let her soften you up lee , i might actually win and take her from.” haechan said , pulling down the shield of his helmet, jeno grunted , pulling his shield down. “ignore him.” ryujin said. “we both know he'll be coming in last.” “racers are you ready?” renjun yelled over the cheers. “don't die.” jeno put his foot on the gas. “please be careful.” you crossed your fingers. “go!” you saw smoke as the racers took off.

“she better be careful.” chaeryoung said , as you waited , you bit your lip nervously. “don't worry, he knows what he's doing.” she reassured you. “i guess.” you said , knowing the boy only a week , you still couldn't help but worry. “he better be.” you bit your fingers. “i hope he is.”

jeno could feel haechan at his side; he sped up , the boys words ringing in his ear, it pissed him off , making him speed up more , your voice in his head as well. “slow down.” was all he heard. “slow down.” he couldn't now , he could see the finish line , where you waited for him , all he had to do was cross the finish line.

“here they come!” someone yelled out , you both ran to the finish line. “oh i can't look.” you said , chaeryoung held your hand , as the bikes came into view. “oh it's him!” you cheered. “he's winning.” you jumped , clapping. he came speeding down the street , and past the line , everyone was cheering , as the other racers drove in.

once he sped past the line , he stopped taking his helmet off , people cheering his name , but he didn't care about that , his mind was on one thing— one person, you. he saw you in a crowd of people , you were searching for him , your eyes finding his. “jeno!” you shouted , running over to him. “you won!”

that was all you could say before his lips were smashing against yours , he held your face , lips moving. “let's get out of here.” he pressed his forehead against yours. “now.” only giving you time to say goodbye to chaeryoung , putting your helmet on and helping you on to his bike. “where are we going?” you asked , the look in his eyes made shivers run down your spine. “mine.”

you couldn't even remember the ride to jenos with how fast he was going; his need for you at the moment was strong , that's why he was taking you to his , he was closer , the closer he was the quicker he could feel you.

pulling up to his apartment complex; parking right in front of it. “come on princess.” he helped you off the bike, taking the helmet off. “let's go up.” he said , his hand low on your back , “you must want me as much as i want you.” he cornered you in the elevator. “you didn't hesitate to get on the bike when i said i was taking you back to mines.” his body covered yours , you looked up at him with wide eyes. “don't look at me like that , it makes me want to ruin you even more.”

it was fair game once he got you into his apartment; he wasted no time , picking you up , wrapping your legs against his waist , pinning you against the wall. “je-jeno.” you moaned , his hand coming up to your neck. “you like this?” he squeezed a little , a whimper falling from your pretty lips. “keep on making those pretty noises baby , makes me want to fuck you right here against this wall.” he growled. “pl-please.”

“no baby , im gonna fuck you right in my bed.” he said , lowering you down , sinking down to his knees. “but i am gonna eat this pretty little pussy right here.” you bit your lip as lifted your dress , dipping his head under , you felt him pulling your panties to the side , kissing your clit. “fu-fuck jeno.” you moaned , as he licked up your cunt. “oh my god.” you gasped.

you grabbed his hair , grinding down on his face, he moaned against your folds , his nose bumping your clit , his hands pinning your waist down to the wall , he was in heaven , this was better than anything he ever felt in his life — maybe even racing. “je-jeno im gonna cum.’ you moaned. “im cumming !” he held you up , your body toppling over as you came hard around his tongue.

he emerged from under your shirt , a smile on his face , his lips covered in your juices. “you taste so good baby.” he said breathlessly. “like fucking candy.” you whimpered; he really couldn't hold himself back anymore , he lifted you back up , taking you right to his room , throwing you on to his bed. “gotta feel you around me.” he rid himself of his own clothes ,before joining you in the bed. “gonna stretch this pretty pussy with my fat cock baby.”

slotting himself in between your legs. “you want it baby?” he dragged his cock along your folds, his mushroom tip catching your clit , making you twitch with need. “pl-please jeno i need it.” you whimpered , whimper turning into a full blow moan as you felt his tip entering your needy hole. “ oh fuck princess.” he groaned as he fully bottomed out. “your tiny cunt is sucking me in.” he hissed.

“pl-please move.” you ran your fingers down his abs as he began to move. “f-faster.” he cursed , moving at your wishes. “fuck princess , your pussy is magic.” his cock dragging along your walls. “so-so big.” you moaned , “yeah princess , but you're taking me so well -fuck- so fucking well.”

you let out a pornographic moan as he began to plow into your , folding your legs , hitting a deeper angle. “fuck baby , you got tighter.” he growled in your ear. “you gonna cum?” you moaned. “you gonna cum all over my cock?” you nodded dumbly. “ye-yes.”

his cock twitching inside you; he groaned. “fuck I'm gonna cum , want me to cum inside you?” he moaned. “flood your tiny cunt with my cum?” you nodded. “please , please cum inside me.” his hand tangled up in your hair , bringing his mouth to your ears. “cum for me.”

you gasped cumming around him. “shit.” he cursed. “i'm gonna cum.” he growled. “gonna cum inside this pretty pussy.” was the last thing he said before you felt the warmth of his cum emptying inside you. “fuck.” he groaned , his cock slipping out of you. “you felt so good, princess.” he leaned in , kissing you. “so fucking good.”

“i was worried.” you said , your chin resting on his neck chest. “i told you not to , i know what im doing.” he said. “you're such an adrenaline junkie and haechan seemed to make you really upset, how was i supposed to know?” you pouted. “just learn to slow down sometimes okay?”

“i’ll learn to go slow if you keep coming to my races?” he said , you nodded. “fine.” he smiled. “you're so cute, you know that princess?” you smiled. “but you're not that innocent you know , you're a little adrenaline junkie too , i saw you in my mirror on the way here.” he flipped you over. “it's okay though baby.”

“your my little adrenaline junkie.”

©LUVYENI

[angelwonie]

ME AND THE DEVIL || coriolanus snow

PAIRING: coriolanus x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 10.1k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers, angst (if you squint)

SUMMARY: Coriolanus Snow is a difficult man to please. And yet you have overtaken his mind—you, the only person in the academy who seems to have no interest in him. But he is also a persuasive man, and he usually gets what he wants. There's only one problem: falling in love wasn't a part of the plan.

WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, degradation, praise, overstimulation, manhandling, edging, crying, breeding kink, brat taming?, coryo is mean but down bad], canon-typical violence, mentions of blood and guns, morally gray coriolanus

It started with a change of seats.

In the academy, students were assigned a study partner meant to last throughout the year. The partners were to sit together in the lecture rooms, write each assignment together and support the other in weakness. The goal of this premise was to keep all students attentive and growing—the academy hardly accepted laziness and not at all incompetence. In the top class which consisted of, as the name suggests, the academy’s finest students, the hunger for success stood stronger, and tolerance for failure—lower. Therefore study partners were as close to a lifeline as a student could come.

Coriolanus had no problem with that. Working with others, as vexing as it could be, brought on more pros than cons, especially when he was allowed to take the lead. And if anything went wrong, he was free to blame someone else for the outcome—though Highbottom never really believed him. 

The Problem, which currently he referred to with a capital P in his mind, had begun when Dr. Gaul suddenly announced a change in the seating arrangement. 

It came as a shock to everyone and frankly, turned the whole orderly system on its head. Livia was moved away to sit with Festus; Gaius with a clearly disdainful Arachne; and he—with you, a girl just recently having joined the top class and taken the spot of a guy who had moved down in ranks. 

Originally, you had seated yourself next to Sejanus, in the only empty seat in the room. When Dr. Gaul walked into the room, they all stood. She told them not to bother sitting again and began reading the names of what was to become new partnerships.

Coriolanus could hear Clemensia letting out a groan of frustration upon her name being read out alongside Sejanus’. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop his smile from spreading at the misfortune he had evaded.

But it didn’t last long, this state of contentment, because soon his own name was read aloud—with yours. 

Your face, as he noticed upon looking in your direction, had no distinctive emotion written across it. Your brows were ever so slightly raised, the corners of your mouth straight. You spared a single glance in his direction—glimmering eyes meeting his blue ones—then, without much reaction, strolled towards the seat which Clemensia had yet to vacate. 

“I think you’re in my seat.”

It was the first time he heard your voice. It was far from gentle, but not exactly rough; clear, but not exactly loud. You were standing with your back straight, your bag at your side. 

The sound brought Clemensia’s attention to your figure for a solid second before she turned to Coriolanus, brows furrowed. 

“This is so stupid. Why would she separate us when she knows how well we work together?” 

He didn’t have time to answer before you took a step closer, this time letting your lips spread in a smile. It revealed your teeth, but no cordiality. “You’re still in my seat. You can question the authority of our teachers another time, right?”

Clemensia, a little stunned, stood unmoving until Dr. Gaul shouted at her from the other side of the room. She took her things and with a last look of disbelief cast Coriolanus’ way, moved towards her own designated seat.

You placed your bag by the desk and sat down, legs crossed at the knees. Coriolanus did the same, although his eyes drifted to his right just a little. You looked a bit like a Greek statue, with your posture and expression so much like his own. 

Dr. Gaul clapped her hands anew. “Well, what are you waiting for? Introduce yourselves!”

Coriolanus cleared his throat and you turned to him, a somewhat bored look in your eyes. 

“Coriolanus Snow,” he said, extending a hand. 

You didn’t take his hand. “I know who you are.” 

You didn’t speak to him any more that day. Or the day after that. Or the next.

All he had was your name and the (maybe feigned) looks of boredom you seldom sent him. And a growing annoyance which came about each time he politely told you good morning and you replied in a dull tone. 

Nobody knew much about you, which resulted in what students do best when met with lack of information—they make up their own. Livia Cardew claimed you were from district 1. Clemensia whispered to Coriolanus about how your place in the academy was most certainly bought by your parents. Festus Creed was utterly convinced your arrival was a test to see how long they would last alongside a girl who showed no interest in anyone and yet walked with her head high.

But the only rumor which held any truth to it at all was Arachne’s hesitant scoff about how she knew you before. 

Livia immediately picked up on the statement and leaned forward in her chair. “You did? So she isn’t from district one?” 

“No. But she might as well have been.” Arachne looked to the rest of them for a dramatic effect. “She’s a total bitch, anyway. That’s all there is to say.” 

That ended the discussion. 

One day, perhaps a week after you and Coriolanus had become study partners, you walked into the academy wearing the tiniest skirt he had ever seen. It was the academy’s uniform, only altered to be shorter and tighter, framing your hips perfectly and ending just about halfway of your thigh.

Coriolanus heard Clemensia scoff from where she stood by his side. 

“Attention seeker.”

“Is that even allowed?” Festus asked, though it was unclear whether he meant vandalizing the academy uniform or how otherworldly your legs looked in the skirt. 

Whichever it was, the answer was probably no. 

On a daily basis, you were already pretty. He knew it and he was well aware the other boys also knew it from the way they eyed you like hawks when you weren’t looking. And, let’s be honest, you were never looking at any of them. So there was a whole lot of staring which Coriolanus caught every time, while you remained either oblivious or too stubborn to acknowledge the attention. 

Now, he thought, you must be aware of it—at the very least.

He, personally, was painfully aware of it. Like an embarrassing Victorian man whose mouth waters at the sight of a woman’s ankles, he felt his pants were suddenly too tight. It was in a state of panic that he adjusted himself, clearing his throat. His hand squeezed the desk he was leaning against as he mumbled an incoherent reply that was just enough for Festus and Clemmie to continue their conversation without his input. 

From over Clemensia’s shoulder, he could see Volumnia Gaul and Casca Highbottom strolling into the room. 

“Dr. Gaul’s here,” he said, pointing with his jaw.  

“Oh, right.”

The two of them walked away and Coriolanus closed his eyes, rubbing his nose bridge. 

Once he opened them again, he was met with your frame approaching—and he almost jolted in surprise. Your hair was hanging loosely down your shoulders, pinned back on one side to reveal golden earrings. You took a step in his direction and he wondered what for—the distance between you was close to nothing. 

“Move.”

Taken aback, he fought the urge to look around and see if anyone else had heard. But no, you were too far and class was almost starting; everyone was busy with themselves. 

“Sorry?” he asked with a strained smile.

You sighed, looking vaguely annoyed. “You’re blocking my way.” 

He grit his teeth, moving aside. You sauntered past him and into your seat, which he only now realized he had been standing in front of. Your skirt flowed behind you; when you bent down to place your bag on the ground he almost caught a glimpse of your panties. Almost. But what he saw was enough to fill him with rage that didn’t subside for the rest of the lesson—along with his boner. 

“I personally think she’s nice,” Sejanus offered when Coriolanus mentioned your poor behavior towards him during lunch. Of course, he said nothing of his dick hardening—oversharing wasn’t his forte. 

“Well, you don’t sit with her.”

“I did. And she was nice to me.” 

He sent Sejanus a death glare which worked effectively to shut him up. 

Coriolanus didn’t really care about your demeanor. It didn’t mess with his work—when you had to be cooperative, you were. And outside of class, Clemensia was more than happy to cling to his arm like a koala. The same went for Sejanus. What bothered him was that look—of disdain, boredom—the lazy way in which you displayed your distaste, like he wasn’t even worth an effort to hate. Because you didn’t hate him.

You just… didn’t care. 

You terrified him. You made him see red. You made him react physically, for God’s sake. And he had spoken to you all of twice. How pathetic was that? Enough to stay forever in his thoughts, that much was certain. He was never going to say a word about this to anyone. 

But worst of all was this: you liked Sejanus. 

Whenever he saw you talking to anyone, it was either your friends from your old class or him. Sejanus Plinth, from district two, with nothing but irritating opinions and a fortune to offer. He saw you laugh at his half-developed jokes, look at him in total focus while he spoke. 

One day, about a month after it all, when Highbottom showed no signs of letting them switch seats ever again, he decided to ask you about it. Dr. Gaul was currently strolling about the lecture room, monologuing, which gave him enough time to lean to the side, towards you. 

“Seems like you and Sejanus have gotten quite close,” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. 

If you registered his words, you made no signs of it. His eyes trailed lower, to your tiny, tiny skirt and the plushness of your thighs which he was free to look at but not allowed to touch. He clenched his jaw and tried again. 

“What is it you want? His money?”

At this, your head whipped in his direction. His cool, blue eyes bore into yours and he could see anger, clear like black on a white piece of paper, in your gaze. Your shoulders were tense, lips barely parted. But this only lasted a brief moment—a glitch in your composure—before you straightened your back and grit your teeth into a feigned smile.

“And you? What do you want from him?” 

He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Dr. Gaul’s piercing voice. 

“Miss L/N and Mr. Snow! Perhaps the two of you will answer my question since you’re so deep in discussion.” The woman looked at the two of you sternly. “What is the point of the hunger games?” 

You looked at Coriolanus, who seemed perfectly content in his seat. He had no intention of answering. Bastard. You folded your hands into fists and stood up. Everyone was looking, but only Coriolanus’ gaze made your heart thump against your chest. It felt as if you had something to prove. 

“To keep the districts at bay.” With a glance towards Sejanus, you bit the inside of your cheek. “In a highly unethical way, of course. It hardly takes killing twenty-three children to prove a point.” 

“District children. Remember that,” said Dr. Gaul. “You may sit.” 

You obeyed, suppressing a sigh of relief. 

At least it was relief until you felt a hot breath on the side of your neck, paired with Coriolanus whispering, “Liar.” 

You looked at him, seemingly unphased, and let out a soft scoff. “If you didn’t like my answer, you should have said something instead.” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, just that it was a lie. Don’t worry, though, I don’t think Sejanus can tell.”

Your jaw tightened indiscernibly. The boy whose curls were falling into his forehead gave a smirk, eyes trailing to where Sejanus was sitting and then back again. You just looked at him, unwavering. 

“You know nothing about me.”

“And you know nothing about me,” he said, lips spreading to reveal his teeth. “Now we’re both liars.” 

***

On the third of the month, the Plinths threw a party.

It was a large gathering, consisting mainly of the academy’s students and their immediate family. The occasion was unclear—unofficially, it was said the Plinths wanted to scout the students to see who was fit to win the Plinth prize. But it was just rumors. Officially, it was a celebration of the academy’s fiftieth anniversary.

After all it had endured—the rebellion, the war, Coriolanus Snow—a party seemed in order.

On the topic of Snow—you were terribly irritated by the way his words were swarming around your head like bees. Somehow, you had managed to remember his voice down to every shiver and for whatever reason, your brain wouldn’t let go of it. Even as your mother, with her eyes fixated on the mirror, smoothed out the length of your silky dress and asked if you liked it. Even as the two of you left the apartment. Even as you exited the car and walked up the steps to the academy’s ballroom. 

“Nervous?” your mother asked. 

“No.” 

She pushed the doors open. 

Coriolanus had showed up to the party in a fitted, dark suit along with his grandma’am right on time. Upon his arrival, he had scouted Sejanus somewhere in a corner with his overbearing parents, while Clemensia stood with Livia and her sister. You were nowhere to be seen as far as his eye could reach. His grandma’am dragged him around the room in search of conversation partners and somehow ended up deepening into a discussion with Mr. Plinth, leaving her grandson to fend for himself with Sejanus by his side. The farce lasted for about half an hour; he felt himself growing weary. 

Then, you came in.

Fashionably late, as always, with your mother at your side, you strolled in like the entire party was thrown in your honor. And truly—he might’ve believed you if you said so, with the way your strapless dress sat around your curves.

In his peripheral vision, he could glimpse Sejanus swallowing hard. Coriolanus fought the urge to outright laugh at the ludicrous hope swimming in the eyes of his ‘friend’. He was reaching too high. Way too high. 

“Y/N! What a relief, you’re here!” 

It was the voice of Strabo Plinth that made you turn your head in the direction of their little clique. A smile spread over your face, but disappeared as soon as your gaze landed on Coriolanus. He watched carefully as you approached with your mother, the pearls on your neck glistening in the overhead light. Sejanus was still staring like a fool; Coriolanus felt his blood turn the slightest bit warmer, the tips of his fingers tingling. 

“Mr. Plinth, Sejanus.” You sent the two of them a sweet smile, then cast a look at Coriolanus with your lips pulled tight. “Coriolanus.” 

He nodded at you. “Sweetheart.” 

You didn’t comment on his choice of word, but he could see your jaw tightening and your chest fluttering, pressing against the restraints of your dress.

Thankfully, it seemed nobody else had heard—Mr. Plinth was too busy gushing over yours and Sejanus’ friendship to notice anything else. Coriolanus’ shoulder bumped into yours and you shuddered. The conversation dragged on until Mr. Plinth was beckoned over by another group of people who looked like politicians, and wandered off with a cranky Sejanus in tow. 

Left alone with Coriolanus and his grandmother, you began to plot your and your mother’s escape. 

“Look, mom, there’s Livia. We should go say hi.” 

You had taken less than five steps before Dr. Gaul’s voice reached your ears. 

“Not so fast, miss L/N,” she said, a menacing smile on her face. She waved you and your mother over to where she was standing—right between Snow and his grandmother. “Surely your mother wants to meet the only gentleman whose grades are as good as her daughter’s.” 

Your mother took the bait immediately, forcing you to follow her back to where you wanted so deeply to escape. “Oh, gosh, really? Coriolanus Snow, is it?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He bowed his head, sending your mother one of his disgustingly gorgeous smiles. 

“Now, Coriolanus and Y/N are my best students.” Dr. Gaul, more enthusiastic than you had ever seen her, pulled you and Coriolanus to either side of her, squeezing your shoulders. “And study partners, too. They work so well together. How about the two of you go for a dance?” 

“Oh, I don’t dance—”

“Yes, Y/N,” your mother obliviously interrupted, “don’t let those five-year dancing lessons go to waste.” 

Your face formed into a half-smile, half-frown. “Right.”

Coriolanus sent you a triumphant smile as he stuck out an arm for you to take. You hesitantly snaked yours through it, heart hammering as he led you onto the dance floor.

The song playing was irritatingly slow, and Dr. Gaul’s smile too wide for all this to be a coincidence, but you decided to let it slide—it wasn’t like you really had a choice. Coriolanus positioned you in front of him. From over his shoulder, you could spot Sejanus, to whom you mouthed a silent plea for help, but the boy proved useless when all he did was send you a smile and a shrug. 

Coriolanus placed his hands on your waist appropriately and you hesitantly placed your own atop his broad shoulders. Although you made sure not to touch him more than you had to, the hardness of his muscles was prominent against your fingertips.

The distance between you vexed Coriolanus to no end—especially when he had seen you in a skimpy, tiny black dress all pressed up against Sejanus at Arachne’s birthday party. His fingers harshly tugged at your waist and he smiled in satisfaction at the way your body pliantly molded into him. A gasp threatened to escape you, but you held it back, instead swallowing quietly. 

It turned out both of you were excellent dancers. Coriolanus sensed exactly when you were to make an unexpected move and was always able to maneuver you however he wanted. 

Finally, you decided to speak—a five-minute song danced in silence would last an eternity. “Clemensia’s staring daggers into my back. Am I in danger?” 

The blonde smiled. “Not at all.” 

“How come?”

“I’ll protect you.”

You smiled incredulously, shaking your head. “I hope you have a knife underneath your blazer, then, because she looks dangerous.” 

“I could snap her neck in half with one hand.” 

The way he said it—no hesitation and total seriousness—made you choke on the laughter that was supposed to come out, replacing it with a burning sensation somewhere in the depths of your stomach. His hand, on the small of your back, fiddled gently with the lacing of your dress, then lazily moved back to your waist. 

You cleared your throat. “I heard your father was a great man.” 

“Yes.”

“I’ve also heard he was a terrible person.” You tilted your head to the side, putting on a curious expression. “So, which one is it?”

“Are the two mutually exclusive?” 

At that, you laughed. Real laughter, with your head tipped back—laughter he had never heard before, not even when you were around Sejanus. Something swelled proudly inside his chest. 

“Only you could say something so bizarre. But no, I suppose they’re not.” 

He swayed his hips along with yours, then brought your hand up, signaling he wanted for you to spin. Whilst he swirled you around, you felt the tips of his fingers against your cheekbone, tucking something behind your ear. Once you were in front of him again, you brought your hand to touch the soft surface that felt like a flower. 

“What is that?”

He raised one corner of his mouth. “A rose.” 

“And why, pray tell, are you giving me a rose?”

He swirled you again, this time his fingers grabbing at the flesh between your clavicle and throat, pulling you against him. You felt his very fingertips, cold and soft, against your muscle, his hot breath against your left ear. 

“To mark my territory.” 

With that, he swirled you back and resumed the ordinary dance, with a deadpan expression and shining eyes, emitting an unidentifiable emotion. 

Your cheek trembled, although you tried to hide it by tightening your jaw. “It’s picked from your garden, then, I suppose.” 

“Grandma’am’s.”

“Really?”

Before you could do anything, he leaned forwards so the tip of your nose grazed his pulse. You stood stunned, taking a breath and being met with the strong smell of roses. You caught a glimpse of his collarbones, peeking out from underneath the two buttons he had undone in his shirt. He drew back before you could think to push him away, lips spreading into a smile. 

“Those are also from our garden,” he murmured.

“Coriolanus…”

He liked the way you said his name this time.

Not arrogantly or carelessly, but like it was the most important thing in the world; a bar of gold in your hands. And the shiver in your voice—the thought it must’ve been the most delightful thing he had ever heard. He wanted— no, he deserved to hear it again, but it would have to wait. You were looking up at him the way he yearned you would, like he was impossible to ignore. 

“Hmm?”

You smiled a strained smile, chest heaving. “The song has ended. I believe I should go dance with somebody else.”

Without awaiting a response, you released yourself from his grip and turned your back on him. He stood in somewhat of a silent shock.

And he felt it again, this immense anger because how dare you wrap your arms around Sejanus and convince him to a dance, when he’s standing right here, ready to rip anyone’s throat open to feel your body against him again. 

After your dance with Sejanus, you scurried off to the bathroom, silently inspecting the rose sitting neatly in your hair above your ear. It was a piercing red, matching perfectly with your dress. You sighed into the mirror, rolling your eyes. 

The rest of the evening was spent drinking champagne—too much of it, definitely, but who was counting the glasses which you picked up and later discarded?

Coriolanus, of course, but he was much too embarrassed to say anything and much too agitated and proud to even consider asking Sejanus to look after you. No, he’d rather see you pass out drunk than have Plinth take care of you—he could do that himself. But he didn’t. Not that day, anyway. He left the party somewhat early, assisting his grandma’am down the stairs although she claimed she didn’t need his help.

“What has gotten into you today? You’re too eager to help and you’re looking around like a lost district child.”

“I’m not, grandma’am. Get into the car.” 

But before he could follow in her footsteps, he heard laughter—the same laughter he had heard for the first time just an hour earlier.

He turned automatically, without much thought, and felt rage well up in him as he saw you and Sejanus leaving the hall shoulder-to-shoulder, your respective parents in tow. You were clearly drunk, your steps unsteady. 

Sejanus said something to you, apparently something you found funny, because you slapped his shoulder and laughed again. Unfortunately for you, the heels you were wearing weren’t exactly wasted-proof and gave out from underneath you when you moved your ankle to the side. 

It took the slip of a second for you to tumble down the remaining four steps of the stairs, and another two for Coriolanus to catch you, his arms knitting tightly around your waist. 

“Coriolanus,” you mumbled, at a loss for anything better to say. 

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, but he went out of his way to sit you down on the stairs and inspect your ankle anyway. 

“Stupid girl,” he said, landing a barely discernible slap to the side of your thigh as he stood, having concluded you were alright. “Why drink more than you can handle?” 

“I have a habit of getting in over my head.” 

He looked down at you, the disheveled hair and still present rose which you hadn’t taken out yet, and smiled. Slowly, Sejanus and the rest of them descended down the stairs and Coriolanus turned to get in the car. But first, he sent you a smirk over his shoulder. 

***

Dr. Gaul’s experiments were always interesting.

In the best cases, they were innovative and in the worst—fatal. None of the academy’s top class knew which one this one would turn out to be when they followed Highbottom into the laboratory. 

“What if she kills us?” Livia, who wasn’t particularly fond of you but neither did she feel a particular distaste for you, whispered.

“She won’t,” you whispered back. “We have the president’s son in our class.”

“Right.”

The lot of you walked inside, scattered randomly until Gaul reminded everyone to stick to their partners. You heard Clemensia let out a prolonged sigh upon Coriolanus escaping her grip and approaching you instead. 

He smiled self-importantly. “Y/N.”

“Snow.” 

The smile faded marginally.

Dr. Gaul ushered everyone closer. A servant dragged off the thick, two-meter long piece of fabric covering what at first sight looked like an aquarium, but later revealed to be a cylinder of rainbow-colored snakes. Someone gasped.

You furrowed your brows and took a glance at Coriolanus, who in turn looked back at you. You were quick to avoid his gaze, but not quick enough for him to miss it. 

Dr. Gaul sent you a half-enthusiastic, half-manic smile. “Now, everyone give me something of yours. Come on, I don’t have all day.” 

Coriolanus moved first, which you didn’t mind until he grabbed hold of you and pulled you along. 

“What are you doing?”

“What, are you scared?” 

His eyes twinkled and you tore away from his grip. But it was too late; the two of you were standing right in front of the open snake habitat. You swallowed hard.

He reached into his pocket and fished out a pencil—golden and engraved with his last name—before handing it to Dr. Gaul. You followed suit, albeit hesitantly, and handed her an embroidered handkerchief. 

The rest of the class did the same. Dr. Gaul received all the items, stacked them and instructed everyone to sit. Then she gathered it all into one big pile and threw it into the cage. Immediately, the snakes swarmed around the items, licking and slithering. 

“These snakes,” Dr. Gaul said, “are lethal only when met with a taste they don’t know. Meaning right now, when they’ve touched your things, they are harmless. Come say hi.” 

Nobody, including you, moved a muscle.

Obviously, everyone was busy figuring out why this was even an experiment if they were harmless—from what Dr. Gaul said it sounded more like a visit to the zoo. Next to you, Coriolanus furrowed his brows and stared the cage down with his icy eyes, inspecting. 

“No volunteers?” Dr. Gaul sighed. “How about Y/N and Coriolanus?” 

You froze, looking at Coriolanus with wide eyes. “You first.” 

He tilted his head. “Ask nicely.”

Forcing a smile, you swallowed your pride.

“Please.” 

He stood from the seat and you forced yourself to disregard his grin and the way his uniform strained around his back muscles. 

Just then, as your eyes followed his steps, you saw something by Dr. Gaul’s feet, something shimmering in gold. You squinted at the object. It was barely visible, currently hidden in Coriolanu’s shadow. Coriolanus walked up to the cage and the overhead light fell onto the object, revealing what looked like something engraved. The letter S. The letter N. The letter… 

“Coryo, wait!” You shot up from your seat. Coriolanus looked at you in bewilderment as you grabbed his wrist roughly. “You can’t touch them. Your pen isn’t in there.” 

“What?” His gaze dropped to the golden pen at your feet. 

You looked at his face, as if to make certain he was whole, then at his wrist in between your shaky fingers. How embarrassing, the way your body had grown so hot and how tragic, the way you had made a scene. You wondered what Coriolanus was thinking, with his mouth parted and eyes on you. 

Dr. Gaul clapping her hands together brought you back to reality. “Quite impressive, miss Y/N. I must admit, your reaction time was even faster than predicted.” 

You turned to her in disbelief and maybe a bit of anger. “You did it on purpose? Why?” 

“Why, to see if you were willing to save Mr. Snow here.” 

“That’s absurd, I would have done it for anyone!” Your face grew hot as you ripped your hand away from Coryo’s wrist, as though burned by his skin. “And what if I hadn’t noticed?”

“Then I would have known I made a mistake letting you into the top class. Regard this as a little test, if you will.” She sauntered happily over to you, where she stopped to whisper in your ear: “And for your information, miss Y/N, yesterday these snakes got familiar with mr. Snow through an assignment. I would never put him in danger, so calm your heart.” 

Dr. Gaul proclaimed the class dismissed and left—left you to stand in utter shock for at least ten seconds. Then, before any words could escape Coriolanus’ mouth, you followed in her footsteps, practically running out of the room. 

After this incident, you avoided him.

He noticed immediately, the lack of you in the hallways when he walked through them and the tenseness of your expression in class. Every time you showed up in those tiny skirts and paid him no mind, he resisted the urge to throw you over his shoulder. You had to be put in your place, certainly so—with the way you were messing with his head. A threat, but he chose to look past that, just this once. What he couldn’t look past were your plush thighs, pretty lips and addicting aura. 

Once, after school had finished, he cornered you in an empty classroom in which you were rummaging through your bag, clearly searching for something. 

“Looking for this?”

You jolted back, looking at him over your shoulder and at the kays dangling from his fingers. As your face grew hot, you turned your back to him again, suddenly not so keen on finding the keys. 

“They must have fallen out of my bag,” you mumbled. 

He inched closer, until his chest was against your back and he could drop the keys into your bag. They rattled—the only sound in the room spare for your breathing. 

He craned his neck to mumble against your earlobe, “How come you’re avoiding me, my sweet?”

You turned again.

“I’m not avoiding you.” You huffed at him, raising your head high. “Why would I avoid you? I simply don’t care for your presence.”

The side of his lips twitched. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I have class. I need to go,” you said, before realizing in terror that you’d both just had the last lesson of the day—of which he was fully aware. “I mean…” 

He took a step and you went silent. His hand cupped your jaw harshly, pointer finger and thumb on each respective side of it. He pulled you closer by his grip. 

“I thought I told you not to lie,” he said, squeezing your cheeks. “Did it not register in that pretty head of yours?”

Your lower lip trembled deliciously, eyes tinted with a hint of fear. “Coriolanus…”

“Call me Coryo. Like you did that day with the snakes.” 

There was a change in your expression: widened eyes turning normal again, lips curving into a soft smile as you pried his hand off. He let you, god knows why. Maybe because everything turned uncalculated when he was around you or maybe because he wanted you to listen to what he said. 

But you just said, “I’ll call you that when you earn it.” 

His blood boiled. 

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands, sweetheart.”

“Sejanus is waiting for me outside, Coriolanus,” you said, putting your hand on his shoulder teasingly. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.” 

He grit his teeth. “Do you think this is a game?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Is it?” 

He held his outburst enough for you to leave—then, he punched the nearest surface and let out a loud groan. A threat, definitely. A dangerous one. But he’d tear it out of you—these sensations similar to his that he knew you felt.

And how could you be of real danger to him when he was just as much of a threat to you? 

***

When Dr. Gaul and Casca Highbottom announced an ‘educational school trip to district eight’, everyone thought they were joking. 

They were, in fact, not. They took the train for almost ten hours—by the end of it, everyone was weary and irritable. Dr. Gaul told everyone to pay special attention and care to their partners and make sure they were safe, and despite the tiring trip, Coriolanus took on his task with the utmost importance. 

“What are you doing?” you asked him as he, for the third time, slung his arm around you to pull you away from passing wagons. 

“Protecting you, like Dr. Gaul told us to.” 

You snorted a laugh. “I’m sure she didn’t mean from horses.”

“Horses can be dangerous.” 

You just rolled your eyes. His arm stayed draped around your shoulders for the rest of the walk. When you arrived at the inn, Coriolanus leaned close to you abruptly and placed a kiss on your cheek. Before you got the chance to even think of protesting, he was gone. 

The next day all of you were to join Highbottom in his speech in front of the district people.

It was a simple stage made of wood—the people stood spread out on a small square in front. There were almost too many to fit. 

You, as students, were not supposed to do anything in particular other than stand there and look pretty. Coriolanus made the effort to assure you you were splendid at it already, his fingers fanning over your waist. It sent shivers down your spine, and he smiled in self-satisfaction. You cursed him for his perceptiveness as the two of you walked onto stage. 

Coriolanus was far from relaxed as his eyes scanned the crowd. You just had to wear that godforsaken skirt in front of a bunch of starved men. If he could, he’d tear all their eyes out. Starting with that brown-haired asshole in the first row. As Higbottom began his speech, Coriolanus walked up to you and stood purposefully a bit in front, as though to cover you. 

“Is it not impractical to wear a skirt today?” he asked, sending you a pointed look.

“It’s quite warm,” you replied, blinking up at him. “Do you not like it? I wore it for you.” 

He clenched his jaw, heart swelling in pride. Of course he liked it—a little too much to be considered appropriate—but not for everyone to see. He leaned down almost indiscernibly, but you felt his hot breath fan your lips. 

“When I’m president, nobody is going to see you in that skirt except for me.”

You grinned. “When you’re president? What exactly is the extent of your ambition, Mr. Snow?” 

“You are.”

His pupils were expanded, fingers snaking to hold you by the waist. If anyone noticed, he didn’t know, but it didn’t really matter anyway. His fingers found their way under your uniform and he observed attentively as your eyes widened, teeth sinking into your lower lip when he caressed your bare side. 

“Okay, everyone, let’s go,” Highbottom said, signaling his speech was finished. 

Coriolanus let go of you. The lot of you moved, surrounded by peacekeepers until you reached the truck ramp. You walked first, carefully placing your steps. 

But you only managed to take three of them before something—someone, to be precise—pulled your leg to the side and you fell.

Your brain barely registered the pain of your bare knee hitting the ramp before you were no longer on the ramp, but the ground. An ache spread along your side. Coriolanus shouted your name as he jumped down from the ramp, despite Highbottom’s screams at him to stay but.

The man who had pulled you down, who Coriolanus recognized as the hungry-eyed man from the first row, pulled out a knife from his pocket. He lounged just as you froze, unmoving spare for the trembling of your lips. Coriolanus grabbed him and pushed him down; but not before he had managed to sink the knife into your calf. He heard you scream. 

“Help her!” he roared at the peacekeepers, who had their weapons raised at the man who was trying to get up from the ground, but weren’t firing. 

Coriolanus, enraged, ripped out the gun from one of the peacekeepers’ hands. He heard some words of protest but ignored them entirely as he pulled the trigger. And again. And again. And again. Until the man was more holes than flesh. 

“Help her, for fuck’s sake!” he roared again; this time they listened and gathered around you. 

He spared only a glance at your bleeding figure, then turned to the rest of District eight’s crowd—the part of it that hadn’t thought to flee the scene—and fired again. He heard Sejanus shouting, he heard Highbottom shouting, he heard Dr. Gaul shouting, and the peacekeepers gathered around him like flies, but he listened to none of them. He fired and fired until the magazine was empty and someone tore the weapon out of his hands. 

“Coriolanus,” you whispered. 

Only now did he fully look at you, at the cut in your leg and at your frightened face. He ran over, relieved nobody tried to stop him, and kneeled next to you along with a clearly useless peacekeeper. There was blood on his white shirt, but not on his fingers when he ran them over your thigh gently. It didn’t look like a deep cut, but it was bleeding a lot. 

“It’s okay, Y/N, you hear me? Listen to me!” He grabbed your tear-stained face with one hand and turned it so you were looking into his eyes. “You’re gonna be okay. Don’t close your eyes.” 

When you didn’t reply, he shook you a little bit. “You’re alright, okay?”

“Okay, Coryo,” you said meekly. 

He nodded and tore a piece off his shirt to wrap it below your knee. He was angry, unbelievably so, and felt if he didn’t look at your face now and then he might kill all of them: the peacekeepers, his fellow students, Highbottom. He bore a hatred for them all. But you were the priority; you needed saving.

He heard you whimper, using one hand to hold at his shoulder. 

“Why did you…”

He cut you off. “Don’t talk. I’m gonna fix this. You’re okay. Keep your eyes open.” 

You obeyed for as long as you could, for as long as it took for the medics to arrive and carry you away; then, you let yourself drift off. 

***

When you first woke up, you were met with Coriolanus’ perceptive eyes staring back at you.

“Coryo?” you asked. 

“How do you feel? Does it hurt?” 

You wanted to answer, but your mouth felt as if it were made of lead. Coriolanus shouted for the nurses to bring you water, yet before he had even turned his head to you again, you were fast asleep. He sighed. 

***

The cut wasn’t deep. 

That’s what the doctors from district eight said, their heads hung low in shame. You were alone upon waking this time, spare for the nurse they had left to take care of you. 

“Coriolanus,” you said. “Where is he?”

“He just left to get some rest, ma’am. We sent him away for an hour fifteen minutes ago. He’d been sitting here all night.” 

“I want to see him.”

“It would be unwise to deny him his sl—”

You stood up and walked out, much to the nurses’ dismay. 

After a ride to the inn in which all of you were staying, you walked into the hallway that you knew belonged to the boys.

You had no idea where Coriolanus’ room was, but thankfully you met Sejanus just as he was leaving his room. 

His eyes lit up as he saw you. “Y/N! You’re okay, thank god. I was so wor—”

“Where is Coryo?” 

He stopped, smile falling the littlest bit. “Last room to the left.” 

You smiled and patted his shoulder. “Thanks.” 

You knocked on the door three times and stood silent, waiting. After half a minute, you heard his voice—husky and deep—telling you to come in. 

He was standing by the window, looking out at the desolate district eight. The back of his new shirt was just barely holding out the strain his muscles created as he crossed his arms. 

You cleared your throat. “Coriolanus.” 

Clearly not expecting it to be you, Coriolanus turned on his heel, sporting a smile as he saw your face. You had changed clothes—another tiny skirt and shirt adorned your body. You were walking without difficulty, just like the doctors had foreseen, perhaps even more confidently, with your head high.

He expected you throw yourself into his arms, or maybe pull his hair and kiss him, but he absolutely didn’t expect you to cross your arms over your chest and ask him: 

“Have you lost your mind?” 

“Sorry?” he asked, frowning. 

You took a step back, biting the inside of your cheek. “What have you done? What have you done, Coriolanus?” 

He looked into your eyes in search of disgust, terrified, but found only worry. You were worried for him. Not them, not that man, not your reputation and the rumors—you were worried for him.

His gaze flicked down to your bare legs, no scar left from the incident, and then up to where your stop was squeezing your tits together. Did you come in here to scold or seduce him? He really could not tell. 

He took a step in your direction, reveling in the way your resolve was starting to fade, lower lip trembling. “I was protecting you.”

“You didn’t have to kill him! You didn’t have to kill them all like animals!” 

At this, something switched. He snorted, almost mockingly. Against your will, you felt your panties getting sticky when he walked closer and closer, until he had you backed against the wall. One of his hands rested next to your head while the other he ran over your cheek, stopping to cup your jaw. 

“You don’t think he would have aimed higher if he’d gotten the chance? You don’t think you’d be dead if it weren’t for me?” His hot breath landed on your lips and you swallowed. He dragged his finger along your lower lip and you opened your mouth obediently, making his lips curve into a smile. “Now be a good girl and say thank you.” 

Your legs rubbed against one another subtly. “Thank you, Coryo.” 

“For what?” He slapped the inside of your thigh, making you jolt. 

“For protecting me.” 

His fingers crawled up your thigh to soothe the place he had slapped, rubbing small circles against your sensitive skin. It was embarrassing, how damp your panties were and how you had to press your lips together in order to avoid letting a whimper slip. The poor lighting cast shadows on his face, blonde curls falling just above his eyes.

He was devouring you even though he’d barely touched you. 

“You’re trembling,” he said, eyes twinkling. 

“It’s the cut.”

He tsked, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Liars don’t get rewards, sweetheart. I thought I’d made that clear.” 

He saw your nipples straining against the thin fabric of your shirt and tightened his jaw. You were here to seduce him, definitely. His desperate little girl. Funny how you had such a dirty mouth until his hands were on you—then, you seemed to go entirely limp and thoughtless. One of his hands snaked to the back of your head, the other stayed touching your thigh—too far away from the place you wanted it to be. 

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes to reach him, but he just pulled you down by your hair. 

“No. Not until you beg me for it.”

You scoffed shakily, reclaiming the very remnants of your dignity. “I won’t beg you for a kiss.” 

He pressed his chest against your sensitive tits, pulling at your hair so your noses were touching. 

“Don’t I deserve it after everything I’ve done for you?”

“I didn’t ask you to do it.”

“But you liked it,” he remarked, sliding his warm hand up your shirt, until he could fiddle with the hem of your panties. His fingers tapped against your clothed pussy only once, making you jolt, before returning to the spot between your hip and leg. “You liked having someone kill for you. Just as you like when I touch you and when I care for your attention.”

“I don’t—” 

“I think you’ve had a little too much being a brat, though. Now it’s my turn.” He slapped your pussy through the fabric and this time, you didn’t manage to hold back a whimper. “Beg. Me.” 

“Please,” you whispered, face hot. 

“What was that?” He pretended not to hear, leaning down even more. You wanted to punch him for his self-importance, for his cruelty, but it was what you craved, too—you’d take everything he gave you, although you’d never say it out loud. 

“Please kiss me.” 

His hands left you entirely before they cupped either of your cheeks. Your heart hammered in excitement watching Coryo’s eyes feeding on the sight of you. He lowered his head slowly, connecting your lips so softly you almost didn’t feel it. You tried to grab his collar and bring him closer, but then he just pulled away and sent you a pointed look which made you retract your hands. 

Then, he kissed you again—this time pressing harder against you, making your eyes flutter shut. His fingers held you softly, as though you could break any moment, but his lips enveloped yours like he had been waiting for the opportunity for years. 

You opened your mouth immediately as he licked at your lower lip and he hummed in appreciation. His fingers tilted your head as he slipped his tongue inside. He was hot against your own tongue, swirling and exploring, not letting you breathe out anything except small, timid whimpers. He smelled like roses, tasted like them too.

Your hands wandered to his broad shoulders, then down his clothed chest, his solid muscles against your fingertips. They flexed underneath your touch, a throaty groan of Coryo’s disappearing in your conjoined mouths. Your mouth watered at merely the thought of seeing them bare, seeing him. 

Coriolanus pulled away only when he had to take a breath—angry at this humane obstacle in his way but soothed upon seeing your swollen, parted lips.

“You’re nothing without me,” he rasped out, trapping your jaw between his thumb and pointer. “Say it back.”

You looked at him through hazy eyes. “I’m nothing without you.”

He pushed you against the wall, lips against your jawline. He sucked a mark into your neck and you mewled out his name, tangling your fingers in his hair. His tongue ran over your throat, then swirled around your collarbones as he pressed wet kisses to them and your stomach. 

Once he reached the waistband of your skirt, he dropped to his knees, looking up. You felt something turn in your stomach; the heat between your legs intensified tenfold.

His fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs languidly. Once gone from your body, he picked them up and dangled them in front of your face. You tried snatching them from him, but he just stuffed them into the pocket of his pants. 

“For later,” he said, smiling. “To remind me what a desperate little girl you are.” 

“I’m not—”

He cut you off by bunching your skirt up around your hips. The cold air made you shiver lightly, but his eyes set on the most intimate part of you like he was about to eat you didn’t really help, either.

Before you could look away from embarrassment, he dragged his nose through your slick folds. You let out a choked gasp as he came in contact with your clit. His hands slid up to your upper thighs, squeezing and prying them apart so you weren’t in the way for him to take his time. And he did take his time—painfully so. 

After almost five minutes of aimless fingers trailing over your cunt but never touching for too long and never on your clit, you let out a loud whine, legs fighting against his grip to close. To no avail, of course—Coryo was much stronger than you and very intent on keeping you in place. 

“Be patient,” he murmured into your heat. His eyes flicked up as a warning and you instantly stilled. 

His tongue finally touched you in the form of small kitten licks on your clit that made your breath ragged and fists tighten. He saw you tightening around nothing, heard you whining pathetically for more and mercifully let his tongue enter your warmth. You clenched around him immediately. 

He pulled his mouth off of you momentarily to look up at your pretty face twisted in clear rapture. 

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” 

When you didn’t answer, he brought down his hand to swat at your clit disapprovingly. You squirmed at the contact, slick practically dripping out of your cunt. His eyes met yours and you quivered, suddenly afraid he’d stop. 

“Yes,” you whimpered. “So much.” 

As a reward, he pushed two fingers into your pussy, watching as you gasped for air, furrowing your brows. He scissored them a little bit, then dipped his thumb into the arousal coating your cunt and let it rub small circles into your already puffy clit.

Your legs felt weak already and he must have sensed this, because he grabbed your thigh and positioned it on his shoulder. This way, he could curl his fingers enough to hit the spot which made you whimper so loudly it was shameful. 

Soon, his thumb was replaced with his mouth that sucked your tiny clit into his mouth.

He heard you moan his name and felt his pants tighten significantly. Part of him hoped everyone could hear the noises you were making, while another part of him felt the urge to murder anyone who dared even overhear these sounds that were innately his possession.

From his position, he could see your tits brushing against your thin shirt and cursed himself for not being in a spot that would allow him to play with them. He’d have to settle for playing with your cute little cunt. 

Your legs started shaking when he added another finger to pump in and out of your dripping hole. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, hips bucking into his face. “Feels so good, Coryo, thank you.” 

A guttural moan of his vibrated through your body and you cried out his name. A warm coil began tightening in your lower stomach. It was clear you were close—from the way your whimpers had grown unabashed and squeaky, the way you clenched around his long fingers, the way your hips stuttered against his tongue. 

“Oh my god, Coryo, I’m so close— Can I come?” 

So polite, he thought. Shame you only acted like this when his tongue was flicking at your clit. 

His eyes glimmered as he looked up at you. “Only if you ask nicely.”

“Please, please, let me come, please, Coryo.” You let out a broken moan as his teeth grazed your clit. “Please.” 

Your legs spasmed around his head as you felt it close, so close, and your eyes fell shut in pleasure.

But then it was ripped from you, this bliss, as Coriolanus pulled out his fingers and retracted his tongue, leaving you empty and stunned. You stared at him, lips parted, and at the self-satisfied smile adorning his features. 

“What, you really thought I’d let you come when you’ve been acting like a brat?” He licked his fingers and something throbbed between your legs. “Stupid girl.” 

He stood up, turning his back on you. You couldn’t see it, of course, but he was silently counting the seconds it took for you to protest against the treatment. Finally, you retrieved your consciousness in full and pushed yourself off the wall. 

“Wait, Coryo,” you pleaded, grabbing his arm. “Please. I’m sorry.”

He turned, raising his brows. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna be a good girl now, I promise.” Your lower lip quivered; he saw the promise of tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m gonna make it up to you, okay?”

At this, you sank to your knees—a sight which made his adam’s apple bob. But he was getting impatient; his cock was aching painfully and when you looked at him with eyes widened and teary like this, he was willing to give you anything in the world. 

“Get up,” he demanded. 

You did as told, thighs trembling slightly, and his hands cupped your cheeks. Coriolanus led you to the bed in the middle of the room, hovering above you with his forearms on either side of your face. His hardened cock rubbed uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants. He laid it against your plush thigh for relief, but all he got was a slutty mewl from you and more precum leaking from his tip. 

“Sejanus is next door, you know. You don’t mind?”

“No.” You shook your head eagerly. “I don’t care. Just want your cock.”

The side of his mouth lifted as his hands slipped under your shirt. You gasped as his fingers found your nipples and pinched them, tantalizing your poor clit to start throbbing harder. He pulled the skimpy shirt over your head and threw it away somewhere, letting out an audible groan at the sight of you. Next to go was your skirt. 

He stayed staring at you for some time before he suddenly landed a slap to your cunt, making you jolt with a whimper. Then, he leaned to press open mouthed kisses against your throat, sucking the skin that covered your pulse into his mouth. 

His lips grazed your jaw. “You want him to hear, then? Is that it?”

“N-no,” you whispered shakily, feeling the tips of his fingers teasing your perky nipples. “No, Coryo, just want you.” 

“Say it again.” 

“I want you, Coryo, only you. I’m yours.” 

Coriolanus let your fingers slip under his shirt, letting out a shaky breath as you traced his abdominal muscles. He helped you pull it over his head, then he pulled down his pants and briefs as well. You watched hazily at his cock free from its restraints, certain if he’d tease you anymore you would start drooling for real. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t in the mood for teasing—he slapped his dick against your clit once, twice, watching you squirm, then positioned himself at your entrance.

Your foreheads touched as he pushed inside agonizingly slowly.

“I’m yours, too,” he whispered against your mouth. 

He was decently thick and longer than average—even lying still in your cunt, he reached places your fingers couldn’t dream of. Your eyes had a hard time staying open in facing the fullness which came with having him inside, but he was having none of it. 

“Look at me when I fuck you,” he said.

“But you’re not even fucking me.” 

You felt his cock pulse inside you before his hands roughly grabbed your thighs and pushed them up against your chest. This newfound angle was overwhelming in itself—when he additionally began thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt, you saw stars. You let out small noises, but he paid them no mind, leaning forward to have a good look at your face.

“Who knew the academy’s best student was such a fucking slut?” he tilted his head, ignoring your nails clawing at his biceps. “Guess words aren’t enough, hmm? I need to fuck that arrogance out of my sweet girl?” 

You didn’t reply; he didn’t expect you to. His cock found that spot that made your toes curl faster than you could have expected. When he hit it for the first time, you let out a whimper close to a shriek in volume. Instead of slowing down, he just went harder, his hips slapping against yours in the otherwise silent room. He thought Sejanus probably was able to hear it all. 

It was easy for him to slip his thumb between your parted lips; even easier to coax you with a gentle slap to your slack jaw to suck on it. Your mouth wrapped around it and he groaned, pushing your thighs further against your tits. He saw your eyes glossing over, felt your poorly suppressed moans against his finger.

And god, you were so compliant to his touch, so perfect. 

“Spread your legs,” Coryo said, moving his hands away.

You obeyed to your best ability, practically letting your thighs fall limply at your sides. He spread them further and sank deep into your dripping pussy. Your slick had made a mess of the sheets below, creating a small puddle in the white material.

His fingers grabbed both of your wrists and placed them on your lower stomach. One of his hands kept them in place while the other played with your sensitive nipples, twisting them until a couple tears escaped your eyes. 

“Don’t move your hands.” 

When you nodded weakly, both his hands grabbed your waist, guiding you back and forth to meet his relentless thrusts. He could see the vague outline of his cock in your stomach, your tits bouncing deliciously before him with each abusing rut into your cunt. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled, lightly tapping at your clit. 

Your walls sucked him in like it was all you were made for, fluttering around his cock and leaving a creamy ring at the base of it.  He wanted to fill you up—not only with his cock, but with his cum, wanted to watch it leak out onto this bed, wanted to hear you beg him to stop. Him, only him. He wanted you forever. 

Coryo leaned down to connect his lips to yours, teeth napping at your lower lip. You were whimpering, mewling his name, and he tightened his grip on your waist. He pushed you further down on his cock, again and again. 

“How does being the first lady of Panem sound, huh?” 

You just nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks in reaction to his cock bullying the gummy spot in your cunt.

“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, rubbing tight circles into your clit. “I’d give you everything you want. You hear me, sweetheart? Everything.” 

His hips rutted into you so roughly your vision was hazy, but clear enough to grab at his sturdy shoulders. You had disobeyed what he said, but it seemed he was unaware, chasing his own high.

His cock was thrusting into the right spot repeatedly, fingers maneuvering your clit so that you almost screamed, slick practically gushing out of your hole.  

“Fuck,” you whined out, feeling your pussy pulsating. “Coryo, I’m—”

“Yeah, I know. Come for me, sweetheart.” 

You let go and so did he—seed spilling into your cunt as you clenched around him. You sobbed his name and in an attempt to soothe you, he planted kisses along your collarbones. He let you ride out your orgasm against his hand before he pulled out.

Vaguely, you could see his cum spilling out of you and onto the sheets. 

Before you could even make an attempt at calming down your heart rate, he stuck two of his fingers into you again. 

“Too much,” you whimpered, but he paid you no mind, stuffing his cum back into your swollen cunt. Too tired to move, you let him do it, only mewling his name softly from time to time.

Once he was done, he licked his fingers clean and smiled alluringly. You scooted closer to kiss him—he tasted of you and him combined. His hands cupped your face as you both lay down, facing one another. 

“You’re nothing without me, either,” you said, running your finger down his exposed chest. “Mr. President.”

His grin widened. “That’s right, sweetheart.”

TAGLIST: @peterpan-neverfails @urfavevirgoo @sayyysss @hwajin @hoshiseon @atrwriting

also big thank you to kathy, kiza and lex for being my enablers! ilyy