She/her | 18 | aries | enfp | Requests are open! :)
14 posts
Lilyhyperfixates - Lily - Tumblr Blog
sosososo cute
Felix asking a shy girl out would include:
Felix x shy!reader
Word count: 546
Warnings: none
Masterlist here
Felix doesn’t even know the definition of the word shy
You were in one of his classes and always sat near the front and kept to yourself
He often found his gaze drifting from the lecture to you
When he did introduce himself at the end of the class your reaction stuck with him
“Hi I’m Felix. I don’t think we’ve met,”
He remembers the way your cheeks-tinged pink, and you began to stutter a greeting before making an excuse to leave
So, when the professor announced a group project was coming up Felix instantly offered to pair with you
You were relieved at not having to struggle to find a partner, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated
Felix was used to being loud, but he soon noticed how quiet you spoke and followed suit
Though he did love seeing you embarrassed
Not like embarrassed embarrassed
But he did love to compliment you to watch you squirm a little
“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?”
“Is that a new top? It looks amazing on you,”
“How does a pretty girl like you still single?”
Felix tried to invite you to parties, but you never accepted
The project took about three weeks to complete, and you had to see him at least twice a week on top of classes
So, when you finally completed the project, you decided to take the plunge
“Do you want to maybe get lunch sometime? We don’t have to its only if you’d maybe wanna go- “
“I thought you’d never ask,”
Felix realised when he was getting ready for the date, he’d never been on a date date before
He’d went to parties, hooked up, went to fancy dinners but that was always with 20 other people
Now he was sat waiting for you in a coffee shop feeling oddly nervous
“Hi, hey, hello,” he greeted, standing up with an awkward handshake to hug to greet you
“Hi,” you breathed out, looking so much more relaxed now compared to when you first met
You stayed in the coffee shop for around two hours just chatting away
You only left because they were closing
Felix suggested walking the long way back
He did notice your blush return when he took your hand in his
God did he love when you got all shy
Especially when you got back to campus, and everyone was staring
You started looking at the ground all shy
But Felix just dropped your hand so he could drape his arm round your shoulder instead
“They’re only looking because of how good you look,”
Felix was desperate to kiss you when he got you to your dorm, but he didn’t want to push you too far
“I’ll text you yeah?”
“Yeah course,” you said
Felix stepped back, about to walk away when you suddenly grabbed his wrist
It took everything in you to tug him closer
But Felix quickly got the hint
The kiss was short and sweet
But it knocked all the air out his lungs
It was all he could think about as he walked back to his dorm and wondered how soon was too soon to text you
He only lasted till he got back in his room
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That Drabble was so cute🥺♥️
Glad you liked it! 💕
Anthony and his wife are totally different, having an argument with different ideas (maybe she has the same personality as eloise). (but nothing too heavy, probably something funny and cute)
just a lil drabble, hope you like it!
“No, I absolutely agree.” You tell Eloise. The two of you were talking about Lady Whistledowns latest publication, theorizing about who she may be. “She must be a member of the ton, how else would she hear that much gossip?”
Eloise and you got along very well, something Anthony was very happy about. You became Viscountess Bridgerton a little over a year ago, and your entire marriage has been pure bliss. In truth you could see a lot of yourself in Eloise, recognizing the rebellious streak she has. You yourself had nod been keen on the idea of marriage before you met Anthony.
“Her publishings are pure speculation, a gossip monger.” Eloise exclaims. She has been on a hunt to find out who the anonymous writer for the entire season. “I certainly don’t agree with what she publishes, only spreading shame.” You agree before taking a sip of your tea.
The door to the sitting room opens and Anthony appears in the doorway. Eloise begins to speak again but you silently signal for her to stop. You knew your husband wasn’t going to be happy about you speaking with his sister on such topics, or encouraging her search for the writers identity.
Anthony presses a kiss to your forehead and sits down next to you on the sofa. “What were you speaking about? Do not stop your conversation on my account.” He says.
“Nothing at all dearest, lady’s talk.” You assure him while shooting a sly wink to Eloise. “Yes, nothing for you to know about brother.” She almost sighs out, annoyed at her brother interrupting your conversation.
Anthony raises an eyebrow and already knows what the conversation had been about. You got along well, were a lot alike. But maybe a bit too much. “I do not hope you are encouraging Eloise in her search of Lady Whistledown.” He tells you, a bit frustrated to have to tell you yet again.
You had fought about this topic before, but you did not see the harm in the young girl doing something she clearly enjoyed and wasn’t harming anyone. “Eloise, would you excuse us? It seems your brother and I have something to talk about.” You ask the girl, ignoring Anthony’s question.
She nods in answer to your question and exits the sitting room swiftly. You turn to Anthony and frown a bit. “Do we really have to argue on this again? We clearly do not agree on this subject.”
“Eloise should spend her time in a more proper manner. Finding a suitable husband for example, it is your responsibility to guide her into doing as such.” Anthony states as pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
You scoff. “And you believe I am not doing my best? Eloise is a young lady full of fire and fervor. I believe she will find a husband when she feels ready to, we should not pressure her into marriage if she does not feel ready.” The grip on your teacup gets a bit tighter as you feel quite passionately on this subject.
It is your belief that nobody should get married under pressure. Your marriage with Anthony hadn’t been pressured and it turned out very happy.
“I am just saying, she has time. It does not harm anyone that she wants to know who Lady Whistledown is.” You continue, softening your tone a bit to try to convince Anthony.
Your husband sighs and leans back into the sofa. “I know, I am only afraid she will not find a suitable husband in time. That she will become undesirable as time goes on. I only want the best for her.”
“I know you do, but you do not have to hold her back in order to do so my love.” Your tone remains soft and gentle. Anthony nods and pulls you into him a bit. “You’re doing great as a brother Anthony. Do not worry.” You whisper to him.
Everything was going to be alright, and now Anthony realizes that as well.
I really want to write an Anthony fic but have no idea what to write lmao, send requests
😮😮😮😮😮 shook
imagine being a pretty district 12 girl and peacekeeper!coryo just has to have you, he can’t bear the thought of not being able to have you, so when he sees you at the hob he gets you really drunk and then takes you to the alleyway. and of course you’re a virgin and you keep telling him to stop touching you but it feels so good at the same time, and he just has to have what’s his, or else. he wants to see you squirming as you try to take him, to watch as the tears trickle down your cheeks as you whimper and tell him he’s ‘too big’ and you can’t take it.
- a 🎀
i dont write enough peacekeeper!coryo (mainly bc im not a buzzcut girlie at all GASP) but damn there are so many good ideas for dark fics w him 🤤 and this ask is DELICIOUS
mayhaps i got....... a bit carried away..........
18+ | nsfw | mdni cw fem!reader, NONCON/DUBCON, dead dove do not eat, alcohol consumption, vaginal tearing, blood (coryo has an implied blood kink) tw emetophobia (but not graphic)
➽───────────────❥
you knew damn well that peacekeepers were forces to be reckoned with, but one night you let your better instincts slip away from you as you drank nearly a quarter of your body weight in moonshine.
and the pretty peacekeeper with the blonde buzz and piercing blue eyes had been eyeing you all night, getting you drink after drink after drink. even after you kept politely declining, he just kept insisting. you already struggled with standing up to authority, and you weren't going to start. especially since you were quickly losing your ability to make judgements.
somehow you made it to an alleyway with your front pressed against the cold, dank wall with the peacekeeper's fingers forcing their way into your panties. you whined as your body pathetically attempted to push him away, but your head was spinning, speech slurred and incoherent.
you whimpered as you felt his middle finger circle your clit, involuntarily rocking your hips into his touch. "nnno," you slurred, not even attempting to hide the moans threatening to escape your throat. "never... never... done this—"
the peacekeeper just chuckled in your ear as he continued to prod his fingers at your swollen clit. "shh, don't worry, little dove," he cooed mockingly. "gonna take this pussy right here and there's nothing you can do about it. fill you up with my cock. fuck, you're soaking wet,"
you were defenseless as the peacekeeper lifted up your dress and pulled down your cotton panties, making you yelp in a mixture of surprise and fear. you tried again to get out of his grasp, but he had the advantage of being sober and way stronger than you. all you could do was whimper softly as the tip of his cock tease your wet folds, making you shudder.
"can't wait to fuck you," he sighed, easing himself into your small, tight hole. you gasped as you were ripped open, raising yourself up on your tiptoes to try to squirm away from the pain. but once again you were trapped in between the peacekeeper and the dank wall.
tears sprang from your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, your cries coming out in weak croaks. it hurt so bad; a perpetual sting that rocked through your entire body. you prayed for something — anything — to come take away this unbearable pain.
"hurts," you choked, nearly gagging on your tears. "please, sir, hurts s'bad. too big. can't take it...!"
the peacekeeper continued to thrust his large cock into your abused cunt. he looked down, watching as blood began to slowly trickle out of your hole and cover the shaft of his cock. the sight only made him harder, the crimson liquid making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.
"perfect district pussy," he growled, unable to tear his eyes away from his blood-soaked cock. "doing so well taking me. covering my cock in your blood. fuck, baby, 'm gonna cum so fuckin' hard,"
it was a perplexing mixture of feelings; the pain of having your walls abused and ripped open colliding with an earth-shattering orgasm. you didn't even notice the peacekeeper shooting his load deep inside you until he pulled out to admire how your blood and his cum dripped out of your cunt.
you heard the sound of him fixing his clothes. and with a final tap to your hip, he left you alone to process the events that just transpired.
as the wave of nausea finally hit you, you hunched over and expelled whatever moonshine was left in your system.
sosososo cute i can’t
𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁.
summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: first part of this multi-chapter fic.
It was a day like any other. You woke to the humming of the maid, the hum-drum of life about the house. You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you reluctantly got out of bed. You selected your gown for the day after scouring through your wardrobe of various shades of pastel. You bid good morning to the servants as you made your way downstairs and joined your family for breakfast. There your mother urgently reminded you (as if you had forgotten from one day to the next) the importance that you find yourself a suitor, someone of good rank.
But you barely had any mind to pay her; for it was elsewhere, with another. You cut your breakfast short, unable to bear any more talk of suitors and marriage and a life without love. You were buttoning your coat when an angel descended the staircase. Well, it wasn’t truly an angel; only your lady’s maid, but the letter she held in her hand couldn’t have been any more sacred to you. She passed it to you and your eyes met hers, the looks you exchanged almost like those of two best friends trading gossip, or in this case, your own little secret.
You slipped the sealed envelope into your coat pocket before finally stepping out the door and down the front steps. Outside, London was alive and full of the colors of spring. Though you could’ve walked the streets for hours on end, you opted to head straight to the park and sat down on the nearest bench. You sifted through your pocket, pulling the envelope out. You couldn’t help noting that it smelled of lavender and cinnamon as you gently broke the seal. There, the words you had been waiting anxiously to read.
Dearest,
I dreamt of you last night. I dreamt of those eyes so deep I was tempted to swim in them. Of that laugh so melodious I was tempted to turn it into a symphony. Of the lips so sweet I was tempted to kiss them. Alas, I know not if I shall ever reveal myself to you. I know you must be dying to figure me out. But you must understand I couldn’t bear to be rejected by you. You drive me mad! When I am awake, you occupy my every thought, and when I sleep you visit me in dreams! I am a tormented man, but oh, how smitten I am with my torment! I clutch it to my chest and carry it with me wherever I go. How could I not? When it was you who gave it to me. Such a state of delirium is the one you have driven me to, simply by existing. Anyway, all this to say that I love you and always will. Write to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.
You pressed the piece of paper to your heart, beating faster than ever. You folded the letter back and let it fall into your pocket once more before starting for the Bridgerton house. It took every fiber in you to go on with this written affair for months on end without uttering a word to your good friend Daphne. But you felt it was something too precious, too fragile to speak of; like a creature as easily spooked as it is beautiful.
This was what you repeated to yourself in your mind when you arrived at the Bridgertons’, and Daphne swore you had a glow about you only people in love wear.
“Come now, who is it?” she teased as she delicately sipped her tea. “You must tell me!”
You shook your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “There truly is nothing to tell, Daph. You must believe me.”
“Nonsense!” she poked on. “I wish to know the lucky gentleman who has you so obviously smitten.” It was then that the others entered the parlor. Anthony, with Kate on his arm, and Colin and Benedict following suit. “Fill us in on today’s gossip, sister.” jested Benedict as he lounged on the nearest chaise with his usual happy-go-lucky air. How handsome he looked today, his jet black hair shiny as ever, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief.
“There’s nothing to share, you busybody.” Daphne scolded him lightly. “Mind your own affairs.” At this, Benedict shot you a cheeky look, one you couldn’t help but return. You wondered if your secret admirer was as handsome as he was, as sweet and boyish.
“Oh!” Daphne exclaimed suddenly. “I forgot to tell you! We are holding a ball this weekend! Isn’t that exciting?” You felt yourself light up at the news. Exciting indeed. Many things can happen at a ball, dances shared and souls intertwined, and perhaps a certain identity revealed.
tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl
Cold comfort - C.S
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
Wordcount: 0.8K
Warnings: Coriolanus is a warning in itself, angst
Coryo was your best friend. Emphasis on was. Ever since Coriolanus had returned from district twelve he had been different. He had become colder, more distant towards you. The full extent of what had happened in district twelve you didn't know. All you knew is that your best friend has turned from a caring person to a man you did not recognize.
Coryo and you had grown up together, living in the same building. When Coriolanus’ father died during the dark days you had been there for him. When your sister died in the same period he had been there for you. You knew of Snow family’s money troubles, how much pressure had been on Coryo to win the Plinth prize to get them back up on their feet.
Now that Coriolanus had returned from district twelve all those troubles seemed to disappear, with him now working under doctor Gaul and attending the university. Now that he did not have those troubles, he had cast you aside. You felt now that he had everything he had ever wanted; he did not need you anymore.
Whenever you saw him in the hallways of the university he pretended as if you didn’t exist. As if the two of you had not been attached at the hip since the age of 7. In all these years you had known him, you admit, you had gotten very attached to him.
You were sitting in your literary class when you felt a small tap on your shoulder. “I need to talk to you.” A deep voice spoke from behind you, a voice belonging to Coryo. A sigh falls from your lips and you turn around to face him. “Decided I do exist after all?”
Before Coriolanus could get a word in you started talking again. “Since you returned from district twelve you have not spoken a single word to me, but now you need to speak to me? Get lost Coriolanus.” Your words seeped into him like poison. You never called him Coriolanus, only Coryo.
“Just- Please. I really need to talk to you.” He pleaded, sounding almost desperate for you to go with him. You let out another sigh but do stand up from your seat and go with him.
The halls of the university seemed smaller, almost suffocatingly so. Your throat closes up a bit in anticipation as Coriolanus leads you into an empty classroom. “I would like to apologize.” Coriolanus speaks plainly. You raise an eyebrow at his statement. “Okay..” You trail off, wanting him to continue talking.
“It wasn't fair of me to ignore you. I'm sorry.” A small smile appears on your face as he apologizes. In truth you had forgiven him from the moment he tapped on your shoulder.
Since Coryo had apologized you had been best friends yet again. Though in reality, which you hadn't realized, Coriolanus had an ulterior motive for wanting to make up with you. Coriolanus was soon to be a gamemaker, a highly sought after position. He would be even more of status than he was now, so he would need someone of status by his side.
Your family has a good reputation within the capitol, Coriolanus thought. Besides, if he had to be in a relationship, you would be his first choice. You’re sensible, tolerable, and most importantly, beautiful. Coriolanus had always appreciated your beauty, and thought you the only one worthy of him.
Though he still needed to continue acting like he only wanted to be friends. You had accepted his apology no less than three weeks ago, so it was too soon to set his plan in motion.
Coriolanus had been able to win your heart over in a mere four months. Four months of meticulously planned actions and conversations and his plan had worked. You had become his girlfriend. In those months he had officially become a gamemaker, securing his position even further. Several events had happened with you as his girlfriend, he had taken you along with him to them of course.
He had not spent four months to win you over to not show you off.
Only a year later you had gotten married. You had gotten married to the man you thought was the love of your life. If only you had been right.
The wedding was beautiful. “Only the best for you, a wedding as beautiful as you are.” Coriolanus had said while you were planning it. Though shortly after the wedding Coriolanus had turned cold again, in the same way he had turned cold when he returned from district twelve.
Coriolanus was your husband. Emphasis on was. Now he was just a man that you despised, that happened to carry that title.
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hi! my name is lily and I write fics sometimes :)
here you can find anything you need to navigate my blog!
masterlist | request guidelines
masterlist
a collection of my works so far :)
last updated: february 18th
Bridgerton
Benedict Bridgerton
I think he knows | 0.7k words
Anthony Bridgerton
Drabble: you are a lot like Eloise.
The ballad of songbirds and snakes
Coriolanus Snow
Cold comfort | 0.8K words
Sejanus Plinth
None yet!
request guidelines
if you want to request something, please read these before doing so! as I continue this blog, more might be added!
I DO NOT WRITE SMUT
no large enough age gaps that it would be considered illegal
no a.b.o stuff, no hate to people who like it, its just not my thing!
I mostly write fluffy fics, but I'm not opposed to something angsty every once in a while :)
when you request something, make sure its as detailed as possible so I can do your vision justice!
please remember to stay respectful, this is a hobby of mine and do it purely because I like doing it. rude comments will not get you anywhere other than make me not want to do your request
taylor references are the bane of my existence honestly😫💪🏻
I think he knows - B.B
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Wordcount: 0.7K
Warnings: Age gap (10 years, Benedict is 28, Reader is 18.) No Y/N used.
Authors note: Who was gonna tell me our boy Ben is 28 in S2??? I was flabbergasted when i googled it for this fic😭
The ball was absolutely boring to you. You were silently observing the people there and the conversations being held around you. The dance card that dangled from your wrist painfully empty, the small glass lemonade in your hand turning lukewarm from being held so long. Your eyes fall on Benedict Bridgerton, one of the most eligible bachelors of the season.
This social season was only your first, having been presented to Queen Charlotte only two weeks prior. You held no hopes of marrying this season. The gentlemen of the ton had not paid a lot of attention to you thus far, apart from the few dances you’d had.
Despite mr. Bridgerton being 10 years your senior, you felt yourself oddly enamored by him. You had just turned eighteen, only just allowed to be out in society. Regardless of your age you had gentlemen far into their forties approaching you for dances. The thought of mr. Bridgerton wanting to dance with you did not repulse you like it had with other gentlemen. Thinking about it even made your stomach flutter a little, not that you would ever admit that.
Benedict had been getting pestered by debutantes and marriage minded mama’s all evening. Since the ball was hosted by the dowager Viscountess, his mother, it was to be expected he would be approached all night, but in all honesty you pitied him a bit. He had been getting more and more attention each social season that he remained unmarried.
You had heard of Benedict Bridgerton before your debut, as he was an acquaintance of your father’s. Now at the ball you saw him in a completely different light though, not an acquaintance of your father, but a man you found quite attractive. You had always thought him an attractive man, but in the lighting of the sun setting and the stained glass windows from the ballroom he looked simply angelic.
Benedict and your father often painted together and you always found small excuses to be in the room, harboring a small crush on Benedict.
Suddenly you were pulled out of your thoughts when Lord Beswick approached you. Lord Beswick was a man in his late thirties with little to no hair on his head. He had seemed particularly eager to have you dance with him on earlier occasions, which was hard to refuse without seeming impudent. As the man approached you, you prepared yourself to have to dance with him again.
Then you feel a touch on the small of your back. Your head snaps around to find the source of the touch and your eyes meet those of Benedict Bridgerton. Lord Beswick then finally reaches you and asks you for your next dance.
"Unfortunately for you, the lady has already promised her next dance to me, Lord Beswick.” Benedict tells the man in a smooth and charismatic voice. You silently thank him with a look and allow him to write his name on your dance card. He quickly leads you to the dancefloor and gets ready to dance with you.
As the music starts playing Benedict begins dancing with you gracefully, he had obviously had dance lessons as a child. “Thank you for saving me from Lord Beswick.” You thank him, speaking softly, almost as if you were frightened to talk to him. Truthfully you were slightly scared to be talking to him, he was a bit intimidating to you.
“No need to thank me, I could not let a lady such as yourself dance with such a man.” Benedict states. His voice enhances your attraction towards him, it being crisp and confident. You had noticed before he always carried himself with confidence and grace. “I shall thank you for it regardless, I do not believe I would have survived another dance with him.” You utter out, still nervous to be in such close proximity to him.
You feel like he has got your heart skipping down sixteenth avenue, it almost beating out of your chest. He gives you a small smirk, looking down at you as you dance. “I have noticed you looking at me, Tonight and whenever your father and I paint at your estate. Is there any particular reason for that, my lady?” He asks, the smirk still lingering on his face.
I think he knows…
I think he knows - B.B
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Wordcount: 0.7K
Warnings: Age gap (10 years, Benedict is 28, Reader is 18.) No Y/N used.
Authors note: Who was gonna tell me our boy Ben is 28 in S2??? I was flabbergasted when i googled it for this fic😭
The ball was absolutely boring to you. You were silently observing the people there and the conversations being held around you. The dance card that dangled from your wrist painfully empty, the small glass lemonade in your hand turning lukewarm from being held so long. Your eyes fall on Benedict Bridgerton, one of the most eligible bachelors of the season.
This social season was only your first, having been presented to Queen Charlotte only two weeks prior. You held no hopes of marrying this season. The gentlemen of the ton had not paid a lot of attention to you thus far, apart from the few dances you’d had.
Despite mr. Bridgerton being 10 years your senior, you felt yourself oddly enamored by him. You had just turned eighteen, only just allowed to be out in society. Regardless of your age you had gentlemen far into their forties approaching you for dances. The thought of mr. Bridgerton wanting to dance with you did not repulse you like it had with other gentlemen. Thinking about it even made your stomach flutter a little, not that you would ever admit that.
Benedict had been getting pestered by debutantes and marriage minded mama’s all evening. Since the ball was hosted by the dowager Viscountess, his mother, it was to be expected he would be approached all night, but in all honesty you pitied him a bit. He had been getting more and more attention each social season that he remained unmarried.
You had heard of Benedict Bridgerton before your debut, as he was an acquaintance of your father’s. Now at the ball you saw him in a completely different light though, not an acquaintance of your father, but a man you found quite attractive. You had always thought him an attractive man, but in the lighting of the sun setting and the stained glass windows from the ballroom he looked simply angelic.
Benedict and your father often painted together and you always found small excuses to be in the room, harboring a small crush on Benedict.
Suddenly you were pulled out of your thoughts when Lord Beswick approached you. Lord Beswick was a man in his late thirties with little to no hair on his head. He had seemed particularly eager to have you dance with him on earlier occasions, which was hard to refuse without seeming impudent. As the man approached you, you prepared yourself to have to dance with him again.
Then you feel a touch on the small of your back. Your head snaps around to find the source of the touch and your eyes meet those of Benedict Bridgerton. Lord Beswick then finally reaches you and asks you for your next dance.
"Unfortunately for you, the lady has already promised her next dance to me, Lord Beswick.” Benedict tells the man in a smooth and charismatic voice. You silently thank him with a look and allow him to write his name on your dance card. He quickly leads you to the dancefloor and gets ready to dance with you.
As the music starts playing Benedict begins dancing with you gracefully, he had obviously had dance lessons as a child. “Thank you for saving me from Lord Beswick.” You thank him, speaking softly, almost as if you were frightened to talk to him. Truthfully you were slightly scared to be talking to him, he was a bit intimidating to you.
“No need to thank me, I could not let a lady such as yourself dance with such a man.” Benedict states. His voice enhances your attraction towards him, it being crisp and confident. You had noticed before he always carried himself with confidence and grace. “I shall thank you for it regardless, I do not believe I would have survived another dance with him.” You utter out, still nervous to be in such close proximity to him.
You feel like he has got your heart skipping down sixteenth avenue, it almost beating out of your chest. He gives you a small smirk, looking down at you as you dance. “I have noticed you looking at me, Tonight and whenever your father and I paint at your estate. Is there any particular reason for that, my lady?” He asks, the smirk still lingering on his face.
I think he knows…