#LOGIC platinum | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phoward89 · 9 months ago

Text

Based on this ask

WARNING: dub con, non con, dark!Coryo, dom!Coryo, soft!dom!Coryo, overstimulation, vibrator, sex (p in v), slight degradation, spit kink

Coriolanus Snow was thriving under Dr. Gaul. Between his studies at the University ( double major in Military Strategies and Political Science) and his work as Dr. Gaul's assistant (he was quickly promoted from intern to personal assistant due to his cunning and cold nature, which impressed the mad scientist) he was a very busy young man. You didn't see much of him anymore, even though he's been your best friend since you were both little.

You weren't mad about it though. You understood, he had responsibilities and spending what little time he had with you was impossible. He has a family to spend time with.

And a girlfriend.

Your stepfather, General Prometheus Byzantine, had made sure to drop the fact that Coriolanus Snow was seeing Livia Cardew one night during dinner. He just casually dropped the ball, as if he was talking about the weather.

Your little brother, Darius, who had just started the Academy, gave you a sad look of empathy. He knew how you felt about your best friend.

You thought that your parents didn't know, but they did. Your mother and stepfather knew that you were, somehow beyond all logic, in love with your childhood best friend. And your stepfather, being a wartime hero, was on the war council that was headed by none other than Dr. Gaul.

Yea, the same Dr. Gaul that your best friend, Coryo, was studying and working under.

You didn't know it, but your stepfather talked to the mad scientist about how he was going to be arranging a match for you soon, but he needed her little lab rat out of the way because he was around too much. Would corrupt you. General Byzantine also told Dr. Gaul that you were too sweet, too innocent for a young man like Snow. That he'd never approve of the match, so she better push him into somebody else's arms and away from you.

Cue Coryo's relationship with Livia.

But unknown to you, that relationship ended before it even reached the month milestone.

The real reason why the platinum blonde that held your heart in his large, calloused hands was absent so much from your life was because of the project he was working on with Dr. Gaul.

A very important project that was commissioned to cure the female ailment known as Hysteria. Something that doctor's stopped diagnosing near the end of the early 20th century.

But now, well into the 22nd century, Hysteria in women's back and the treatment for it can be quite time consuming and strenuous on a doctor's wrist.

So, Dr. Gaul and in extension Coriolanus Snow were commissioned to recreate the treatment tool of old that was used to help alleviate women's hysteria thru hysterical paroxysm.

The tool of old was an industrial grade electric vibrator. To be used by doctors to treat stressed and agitated women by bringing them to orgasm via clitoral stimulation.

It truly was a practice done in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. One that, apparently, was back.

Or at least the vibrator part of the treatment for hysteria would be back once the device was finished, tested, and approved. Until then, the doctors of Panem have to do manual clitoral massages to treat hysteria.

“Mr. Snow, the device is ready for live subject testing.” Dr. Gaul told Coriolanus, turning the vibrating tool off and placing it down on the work table.

Coriolanus wanted to laugh his ass off at Dr. Gaul's professional demeanor when it came to announcing that the vibrator was ready to test on pussies.

When his mentor told him what she'd been commissioned to make, he sprayed his tea out of his nose and literally choked. He couldn't believe that doctors had to bring their female patients to orgasm by roughly rubbing their clits because they were agitated and stressed due to sexual frustration. And the fact that the Capitol husbands were sending their wives to doctors for both the diagnosis and cure of hysteria (sexual frustration) baffled him.

Couldn't the husbands just play with their wives pussies themselves?

Dr. Gaul assumed that Coriolanus’ reaction to her commission project was one of proper breeding. Proper gentlemen are brought up to treat their women like dainty china dolls in bed, and to only use them for heirs. That lust was wrong to feel for a wife, a woman of proper breeding. That a gentleman was expected to join a sporting club (a sex club or brothel) in order to enact his base and lustful needs.

So, Dr. Gaul assumed that those teachings were the reason for Coriolanus' reaction to them having to invent an industrial grade vibrator for medical use.

She never once thought that the platinum blonde was judging the Capitolites backwards view of sexuality.

Coriolanus wasn't shy when it came to sex, but maybe that's because he spent some time in District 12 as a peacekeeper. Sex wasn't dirty and taboo in the districts. Hell, random hookups behind an alley with someone you met mere minutes earlier was a norm. Girls that looked so cute with their big doe eyes and simple cotton dresses would drop to their knees in a snap of a finger to hungrily suck cock. Those same girls would bend over, eager to take a cock. And half the time they didn't care what hole it was shoved in. Ass or pussy, as long as they got a good pounding that made them see stars. And then there were those handful of girls that would let a pair of Peacekeepers spit roast them.

So, safe to say, Coriolanus had a sexual awakening while a peacekeeper. He learnt what he liked, what he didn't like, and all of his kinks over the course of a summer.

And his sexual appetite didn't change when he returned to the Capitol. But, unlike the other gentlemen in the Capitol, he didn't join a sporting club. He wasn't going to pay for a sex club membership when he could go out to Pluribus’ club, pick up a pretty girl, and fuck for free.

He just wasn't counting on the capitolite ladies to be prudes.

And the biggest prude of all was his ex.

Livia Cardew.

She didn't want to do anything-

ANYTHING-

-until her wedding night. All because of what she was taught, what all proper Capitol girls were taught.

And just the thought of sucking cock disgusted her. She even slapped him across the face when he suggested it.

So, before they reached their month anniversary, Coriolanus broke up with Livia.

He also threw himself head first into his studies and work as a way to keep his mind off of sex. Settling for fisting his cock and his fantasies fluttering behind his closed eyelids when his urges got too much to handle.

And now, here he is, helping Dr. Gaul invent a vibrator to get all the prudes of the Capitol off because their sexual frustrations are making them unbearable bitches to live with.

“When do you plan on conducting the tests?” Coriolanus asked Dr. Gaul, watching her as she boxed up the vibrating invention.

“I need to recruit some young ladies, of all different ages, from the districts for medical testing.” Dr. Gaul began while locking the invention up in a cabinet. “Of course, their families will be compensated with a small payment, since they'll be tied up here for some time.” The wild, frizzy haired woman sickly smiled while crossing the lab. Coriolanus followed behind her as she explained, “All of that will take time, so I conclude that testing will take place within the next 4-6 weeks at the earliest.”

Dr. Gaul exited the lab with Coriolanus right behind her. “I’d like to test it on a friend of mine, right away. That is, if I have permission to do so, Dr. Gaul.”

“And does this female friend of yours just happen to be General Byzantine's stepdaughter, Y/N?” The scientist asked knowingly, walking down the white hallway leading out of the heart of the lab.

“Yes, that would be her. She's been my best friend since we were children; she'd help me test out the vibrating tool without a second thought.”

“You should tread lightly, Mr. Snow. General Byzantine is in the midst of arranging a matrimonial match for Miss Y/N. Her helping test out our little invention is not going to sit well with him.” Dr. Gaul warned her prodigy, turning down a corner and walking down another stark white hallway.

Coriolanus felt like all the air from his lungs had dried up; leaving him breathless and suffocating. You were going to be handed off to some undeserving asshole. That wasn't right. It wasn't fair either.

You were supposed to be his.

It was common knowledge between your mother and his Grandma’am that when he was ready to settle down, he'd seek you out.

But your stepfather was almost done finalizing an arranged marriage for you with somebody. With somebody that wasn't him.

That was complete and utter bullshit.

Now more than ever, Coriolanus wanted to test that vibrator on your pussy. He wanted to make you cum multiple times; turn you into an overstimulated, crying, babbling mess begging for more. Begging for him to fill you up, fuck you with his cock and make you his.

And by God, he was going to make you his.

And he's going to use that invention, the industrial grade vibrating medical tool, to do it.

“Dr. Gaul, what the general doesn't know, won't hurt him. Besides, I’ll be testing a treatment for hysteria on my best friend. A treatment that, once married, her husband might send her to see a doctor for.”

Your husband was never ever sending you to get your pussy played with because Coriolanus was going to take care of your pussy himself. He wasn't going to let anyone touch you.

Only he's allowed to do that.

Just like he's the only one that's allowed to marry you.

“Very well, Mr. Snow, you have my permission to test our invention on your female best friend.” Dr. Gaul nodded as they reached an elevator. Hitting the button to open the steel box, she asked, “When do you want to conduct the testing?"

“As soon as possible.” Coriolanus honestly told his mentor. “I’d like to bring her here tonight, if she's free. If not, then the soonest day she has open in her schedule.” He said as the metal doors in front of them dinged open.

“And I imagine you want to be the only one conducting the experiment on your live test subject?” Dr. Gaul knowingly asked as they entered the elevator. The mad scientist might be diabolical, but she was very intelligent and knew that Coriolanus Snow was going to use that vibrator they invented to ruin you. And to do that, he'd want to be alone with you, to break you.

The scientist thought it was amusing. How her pupil wanted to ruin you with a vibrator because he couldn't have you.

What she didn't know was that Coriolanus wanted to ruin you, but not because he couldn't have you. But to make you his. To make you pliable to him; want only him and abandoned all of your family’s plans for you just in order to receive endless pleasure from him.

“Yes.” Coriolanus firmly said as the doors to the elevator dinged shut.

“Very well, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul nodded as the elevator began to ascend. “You may have your privacy conducting your experiment on your female best friend.”

You were home with your little brother while your parents were out at one of the finest restaurants in the city. Unknown to you, they were meeting with your potential future husband to discuss your dowry along with his expectations as your future husband.

Your brother was doing his homework and you were sitting on the living room couch, watching tv whenever the doorbell rang. You ignored it, assuming that either the Avox or the housekeeper, Marisol, would answer it.

You guessed correctly when you heard the heavy footfalls of shoes echoing against the marble floors. You didn't pay it any mind, assuming that one of your brother's friends had come over to study or something.

“Miss Y/N, your friend Mister Coriolanus is here to see you.” Marisol announced, standing in the archway of the room.

You tore your attention off of the TV and looked towards the living room entrance only to see your best friend strolling by your housekeeper.

“Thank you, Marisol.” You simply dismissed the middle-aged woman, causing her to nod and walk off.

You were shocked to see Coryo. It's been so long since you've seen him. “Coryo, what're you doing here?” You asked in awe, standing up and closing the distance between the two of you.

Before you could even approach him for a hug (that you so desperately craved from the platinum blonde man), Coriolanus told you. “I've came to ask you for some help testing an invention I've been working on with Dr. Gaul.”

“Oh…” You sadly sighed, letting your disappointment linger heavily in the air. And here you thought he came over to see you because he missed you. No, that wasn't the case. He didn't miss you at all; just needed you to help him on some project for work.

“Darling, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to help your best friend.”

“Are we still best friends, Coryo? I never see you anymore.”

“Of course we're still best friends, little dove.” The platinum blonde assured you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His hand trailed up and down your spine in a tantalizing touch that sent shivers throughout your nervous system. “I'll never abandon you, babygirl. I’ve just been preoccupied helping Dr. Gaul with a very important invention and studying for my University classes.” You could feel the thump, thump, thump, of his heartbeat as your head rested against his chest while your arms circled his wait. Hugging him close.

You missed hugging your best friend; you missed his scent and how he made you feel safe.

“I was hoping to see you at the University during lunch, but I haven't been able to. I guess you must be busy or maybe don't take your lunch break in the University’s dining hall.”

“I don't go to University, Coryo.” You told him, causing him to blink and stare at you in disbelief.

Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. You weren't enrolled at the University. How could that be? You always wanted to study either science or medicine. It was your dream; you always talked so passionately about it before he was sent off to 12 to be a peacekeeper.

“”Why not? I thought you wanted to study science or medicine?”

“My stepfather and mother says it's a waste of time since I'm just going to be a socialite and one day a housewife.” Was the honest answer you gave Coryo.

The platinum blonde man wasn't too pleased by your answer. Not by a long shot. Who were your parents to control you; arrange for you to marry some rich asshole that would suppress you.

If you wanted to study at the University then so be it. You should be able to.

And then a marvelous idea popped into his head. It was a great way to get you to agree to help him test out the vibrator too.

“If you help me by being my test subject tonight, I’ll get you a late midterm enrollment into the University in the science field. I'll even arrange for you to be my intern, considering that I'm Dr. Gaul's assistant.”

“Coryo, you'd do that for me?” You gasped, hand covering your mouth due to your shock.

“Yes, my sweet girl, I'll do that for you." Coriolanus confirmed with a nod. He flashed you that charming, manipulative smile of his, only to say, "I'll do that and more for you, if you just help me out with testing a new invention for me.”

You chewed your bottom lip, thinking over your options. Truthfully, the only option you had was to say yes. Saying yes would both get you into the University and repair the cracks in your friendship with Coryo.

“Okay, I'll help you.” You agreed, smiling at your best friend.

“Excellent.” Coryo smiled, so wide that too many pearly white teeth were showing. The smile seemed feral, perhaps even deranged in a way. Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he suggested, “Let's go, shall we?”

The lab he escorted you to was in the belly of the Citadel. Deep in the basement where nobody would hear you. He had explained, as the elevator made its descent, that the room he was taking you to was soundproof and didn't have any cameras installed in it. That it'd just be you and him; that nobody would ever see the experiment. And he'd just relay his data to his boss, Dr. Gaul.

You didn't know why he told you that. It sounded a bit weird to you, but you just nodded along and told him okay.

You felt a bit nervous as Coriolanus led you down the basement hallway and to a door. He used his electronic key card paired with a panel retina scan to open the door. He led you into the room, only to stop by the doorway to flick on the light switch.

The too bright florescent lights flickered to life, revealing a lab table of sorts with straps and stirrups attached to it. As Coryo slammed the door shut, you noticed that on the counter next to the lab table was some sort of hospital gown and some type of large, thick wand.

You looked over your shoulder at your best friend, only to ask him, “Why’re there straps and stirrups on the lab table? And a hospital gown on the counter, Coryo?”

“It's to test out the new invention, darling.” Coryo told you as if he was talking about the weather. “You'll need to get dressed in the gown and have your legs parted so I can properly conduct the experiment.” He explained while heading over to the counter.

“But the straps, Coryo? Are you going to tie my wrists down too?” You asked, a bit concerned, while trailing behind him.

“It's so you don't try to stop the experiment.” He dryly told you. “Now if we're done playing 20 questions, put this on and get on the lab table.” He said, handing you over the medical gown. Your fingers brushed as he added in, “Oh and take off your panties. Your pussy needs to be bare for this little experiment.”

“What?” You asked, sucking in a deep breath between your teeth. You had to let him see and use your bare pussy for the experiment? Like what? Why? “Coryo, I didn't agree to this…”

“Yes you did, Y/N.” Your best friend reminded you as his icy blue eyes cut right into your soul. Sighing, he rubbed your shoulders. “I promise, you'll like what I'm going to be doing. Just do as you're told, okay?”

“Okay.” You reluctantly gave in. “Can you turn around so I can change?” You asked, feeling a bit awkward about your best friend seeing you naked, as you slipped out of your kitten heels.

“I don't see why it makes a difference, darling. I'm going to see your pussy; might as well see your tits too.” He chuckled, leaning against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. His icy blue eyes roaming over your form as you began to unzip your dress.

“Coryo, you have a girlfriend. Think about how she'd feel if she heard you right now.” You told him, pulling off your dress and folding it up.

“I don't have a girlfriend, Y/N. So whoever told you that's mistaken.” Coryo told you as you placed your dress on the counter.

Your brows rose up in surprise as you unhooked your bra, “Really? But I thought you were seeing Livia Cardew.”

Livia Cardew.

Of course, you knew about him and her. What you didn't know was that it didn't even last a month. And he made sure to tell you that. He also assured you that he was single; had been single for months as you finished undressing.

You were relieved that he wasn't avoiding you because he was spending all of his time with Livia. As you put on the examination gown, you asked Coryo, “If you're not busy with Livia, then why have you been ignoring me?”

Your words made bile rise up into the platinum blonde's throat. He felt sick that you thought he was ignoring you. He wasn't ignoring you. Wasn't he? He's just been busy constructing a life for you two.

A soft look crossed his features as he sighed, “I didn't mean to ignore you, little dove. I've just been busy with my studying and working as Dr. Gaul's assistant.”

“Yea…” You trailed off in a long, airy sigh. You honestly wanted to believe your best friend, but didn't know if you should.

“Let me tie this for you.” Coriolanus offered, gesturing to the hospital gown. You just nodded and turned around, causing him to tie up the little ribbons on the back of the medical gown.

Like with all medical gowns, your ass was showing. The platinum blonde smirked seeing your round ass, only to grab it with his large, calloused hands.

“Coryo?” You asked in a startled tone, looking over your shoulder at your best friend as he massages and rubs your ass.

Coryo just smirked before smacking you on the ass and saying, “Go get on the table.”

Turning around to face him, you said, “I’ll get on the table, but I want to know why you grabbed my ass.”

“Maybe I grabbed it because I'm an ass man; happen to like yours.” Your bestfriend told you with mirth twinkling in his baby blues, only to walk over to the counter to grab what he needed.

“I thought men liked boobs?” You asked while making your way over to the examination table.

“Oh, I like tits too.” Coriolanus stated, in a tone that was too cheerful for the atmosphere of the sterile lab, while pulling a pair of latex gloves out of a box that was on the counter. The loud sound of latex snapping as he pulled on the gloves echoed throughout the room. “Tits and ass. Good ole T&A does it for me.” Coryo joked, trying to cut the tension in the room, as you nervously sat down on the table.

As you adjusted yourself on the table, placing your legs in the stirrups, you heard your best friend ask you, “Do you want me to use the lube or to get you wet the old fashioned way?”, from his place across the room at the counter.

“What?” You asked, your eyes nearly popping out of your head. He couldn't mean?...

“Jesus, Y/N, please tell me you've played with your pussy before. Cause if not…this is going to be one hell of an experience for you.”

“Coriolanus! This isn't something ladies talk about to their gentleman friends.” You scolded him.

Coryo decided to forgo the bottle of lube, opting to just grab the large vibrating wand. Making his way over to you, he said, “That mindset’s why I had to help Dr. Gaul invent a damn vibrator. Because sex's so taboo to talk about in the Capitol.” Coming to a stop at the lab table, he placed the vibrator down on the sheet, right below your spread legs.

“I’ve spent some time in the districts, as you know while serving as a Peacekeeper, so I don't share the same close minded views when it comes to such things.” Coriolanus explained while walking up the length of the table. Stopping where your wrists were, he explained, “I'm not trying to embarrass you, Y/N. I want you to enjoy this thing I've got to test out. And in order for you to do that, I need to know if you've touched yourself before. I need to know if you know what to expect, what to feel.”

“Fine…I’ll answer you.” You gave in while your best friend strapped down your left wrist.

The platinum blonde arched a brow, his hand resting resting on your right wrist, as he waited on baited breath for your answer.

An answer of, “Yes, I've played with myself before. There, you happy now?”

“See, it wasn't so hard to tell me that. Now was it?” Your best friend remarked while strapping in your right wrist. He stroked your hair and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I'll make sure you're nice and wet before we begin. Just relax and enjoy the experiment.”

Coriolanus, true to his word, made sure that you were wet. He used the rough pad of his thumb to circle and tease your clit. He didn't apply to much pressure, just enough to get you moist.

Coriolanus wanted you to enjoy this, but he wanted to make your pussy weep and flood juices from the vibrations of the wand. He could always drive you crazy with his hand another time.

And there’s going to be endless moments between you two after tonight.

“I'm going to start the experiment now. Okay, darling?” Coryo told you, picking up the vibrator and turning it onto the lowest setting.

“Okay.” You nodded.

“Just relax for me.” He instructed before pressing the buzzing wand to your clit.

The light vibration against your clit felt good. So good in fact, that you let out a tiny whimper.

“See, I knew you'd like this.” Your best friend said, only to turn the vibrator up another notch.

“Mmmm…Coryo…” Your breath hitched up in a tiny whine. The slight chance in speed against your clit sent wetness to pool from your pussy.

“You're doing good, my little dove.” Coriolanus praised while teasing your pussy with the vibrator.

Without warning, he turned it up to the third level. He pressed it hard against your clit, needing to see you cum. He craved the sight of your pussy gushing for him. And he'd keep amping up the speed of the vibrator to do it.

And the large industrial vibrator had 10 speed settings.

So…

You were in for a long night.

“Oh my God! Coryo!” You moaned, the vibrations of the third setting on your clit driving you closer to cumming.

“Feels good “ Coryo stated with a smug grin on his face.

“Yes.” You nodded. Your legs, spread wide in the stirrups, began to tense up as you mewled, “Feels so good, Coryo. So, so good.” Your pussy began to spasm as you cried out, “I-I m gonna cum, Coryo.”

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” Your best friend told you, holding the vibrator firmly against your twitching clit. “Cum right now. Do it, cum like the little slut you are.”

You didn't know if it was the vibrations against your clit or the dirty, demanding words Coriolanus told you, but all of a suddenly you were cumming with a moan.

Coriolanus’ icy blue eyes shined in excitement as he watched your juices flow out of your pussy as you came. Oh, he thought you looked so beautiful. He could stare at your soaked, leaky cunt for hours.

You thought that your best friend would turn the vibrator off, unstrap you from the table, and end the experiment with the vibrating wand, but he didn't. In fact, Coriolanus turned it up another notch.

“Coryo, I already came. You gotta stop.” You told him, trying not to let out a high pitched wine, as your clit began to throb.

“Sorry, baby, but we're not stopping until all 10 speeds are tested.” The platinum told you, a mischievous smirk on his lips. Adjusting the pressure he was using to hold the vibrator against your clit, he simply said, “We're only on the 4th speed.”

“Oh no…” You trailed off in a broken moan.

“Oh yes!” He mocked, watching your pussy as it began to pool once more. “Perhaps I should turn it up?” Coryo asked while turning up the speed.

“Coryo!” You screamed as your second orgasm hit you, causing your pussy to spasm and squirt juices onto the lab table you’re on.

“Oh, so you're a squirter?” Coryo asked, a wide smile on his face, as his eyes locked onto yours from his place between your pussy.

If you weren't so blissed out right now you'd be embarrassed.

“I'm going to turn the speed up again, see if we can get you squirting some more.”

“Oh, God, Coryo. Please, please, stop. No more, I'm too sensitive.” You begged, feeling like you couldn't handle any more.

Coriolanus did something you weren't expecting. He stretched out his arm and took your hand in his, holding it. “I know, you're sensitive, baby girl, but you can do this. I know you can go all the 10 speeds for me.”

“Coryo.” You whimpered, lower back arching in an attempt to get away from the vibrations assaulting your puffy, swollen clit.

“Y/N, baby, calm down. You can do this; I wouldn't put you thru this if you couldn't.” Coriolanus told you while cranking the speed up once more.

Coriolanus loves seeing you overstimulated and thrashing about on the table for him as he talking you thru everything. But, his pants were starting to tighten. He needed to fuck you and fast, so that's why he decided to switch the vibrator to level 6 so quickly instead of teasing you.

“Coryo, please, please.” You begged, but for what you didn't even know.

“What do you need, Y/N? You need to cum again?”

“Yea.” You desperately nodded as tears began to brim your eyes. “I'm so sensitive but I need to cum so bad.”

“You're such a little slut for me.” Your best friend chuckled, only to press the vibrator harder against your clit and turn it up to level 7. He adjusted the position slightly, causing you to cum with a loud scream. Once again your pussy squirted your juices everywhere. This time your thighs were wet, the table underneath you was wet, and even Coryo's shirt was soaked.

Coriolanus is positive that if he didn't have you strapped down then you would've flown right up off the lab table.

“I know you're sensitive, but I know you have one more in you. Can you give me one more, baby girl? Hmm?” Coriolanus cooed, stroking your hand with his long fingers as he turned the vibrator up to the next level.

“I dunno, Coryo.” You sighed, feeling listless, as you felt even faster vibrations against your too sensitive and swollen pearl. Your pussy’s quivering and your asshole’s clenching from the overstimulation you're feeling. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried, “I-I’m aching so bad, Coryo. I need something more, but I'm so sensitive.”

Coryo knew just what you needed. Your body was craving his cock. And, honestly, his cock was painfully rock hard from watching you that he's going to be stuffing you full once he's made you come again from the vibrator.

“You need my cock, Y/N.” Coriolanus told you, matter of factly. “Don't worry, once we're done, I'll flip you over and fuck you.”

“I'm a virgin, Coryo. I'm supposed to be saving myself for my future husband.” You informed him. You couldn't just sleep with him, you had to stay pure. What would your future husband think if you were already used up on your wedding night. If there wasn't any blood on your thighs to signal that he was the only one to claim your purity as his prize.

“You've done that, darling. You've stayed pure for me, but I can't wait any longer to have you.”

Your toes began to curl and your fingers were clenching into fists as you felt a hot, unbearable tingling began to build up inside of you, despite how overstimulated and sore your clit was. “You want to marry me?” You asked, more like moaned, as Coriolanus turned the vibrator up to the 9th level.

Your nails dug into his left hand as your pain began to turn into pleasure once more. Coriolanus thought you were so beautiful like this. Spread out before him, helpless and to his mercy. All fucked out, begging for things you didn't even know you wanted or needed- until now.

Oh, and the unorthodox marriage proposal was the icing on the cake for the platinum blonde man. Made this night all the more special. “Of course I want to marry you, Y/N. I'd be a fool not too.”

Tears blurred your vision, sticking to your lashes, as you wailed, “Coryo, please, this is too much.”

“You're doing such a good job for me, darling.” Coriolanus praised you, causing warmth to pool in your lower belly. “Just one more speed and it'll all be over, baby girl. Just one more for me, yea?” Coriolanus assured you as his lust blown eyes raked over your writhing form that was strapped down.

“Okay. Just one more.” You agreed, causing him to turn the vibrator onto the last setting.

The 10th speed.

The vibrations sent a harsh jolt straight to your core. You became an overstimulated, babbling mess. Your head thrashed, your pussy spasmed, your asshole clenched, your legs shook, and your eyes were literally blinded with tears. The feeling was oh so much. It was both euphoria and hell at the same time. The pain ebbed into pleasure, a white hot pleasure that seemed impossible to reach.

And before you knew it, you were cumming hard with Coryo's name on your lips like a prayer.

Coryo quickly turned off the vibrator and tossed it to the side. The large wand crashed into something, but he didn't care. He just needed to get you unstrapped so he could fuck your 5th orgasm into you.

Fuck, he was so hard and needed your cunt so bad.

Quickly, Coriolanus pulled your legs out of the stirrups and lowered tje metal things down to the sides of the table. Then he rushed up to the top of the table. To free your arms.

You were panting and fluttering your eyelashes, attempting to see thru all of your tears, as your best friend quickly unbuckled your wrist straps. “You did such a good job for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Kissing you on the forehead, as your newly freed arms limply lay by your side, he asked, “Can you sit up for me or are you too fucked out?”

“I dunno, Coryo.” You honestly told him. Your body was numb with pleasure, so you had no idea if you could sit or not.

“Shit, did I break you?” He asked, pride laced in his baritone, as he helped you to sit up.

“I’m fine, just feel a bit numb’s all.” You told him, pressing your face against his chest as he held you.

“Yea, you're too fucked out.” Coriolanus proudly chuckled.

Lifting your head up to look at him, you innocently asked, “Why's your shirt all wet for, Coryo?”

“That's all you, little dove.” He told you while petting your hair. “You came so hard; soaked everything near that pretty little pussy of yours.”

“Oh…” You buried your face in his chest. You were embarrassed; afraid of his reaction to you cumming so messily. “That's never happened before when I- you know- while alone in bed.” You admitted, hoping that he wouldn't think you were weird or something for making such a mess.

Coriolanus found your innocence to be cute. You were embarrassed about the spectacular show you put on for him.

And only him.

Because you've never made yourself squirt before.

Pride swelled in his chest at the mere fact that he had you squirting over and over again.

Him.

“Y/N, my dove, what you did was natural. It was very special too.”

“It was?” You asked, lifting your head to look up at him.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded. “Not everyone can squirt.” He explained with a smile. Pressing his forehead against yours and bringing your hand to cup the large bulge in his too tight pants, he said, “I need to fuck you so bad. Make you mine, Y/N.”

You palmed his bulge, causing him to let out a strangled moan. “Did you mean it when you said that I don't have to wait anymore? That you’ll marry me without my virginity?”

“Y/N, my darling rose, of course I'm going to marry you.” Coriolanus told you with a firm certainly in his voice as he cupped your face in his large, calloused hands. “I’m the one taking your virginity and I'm the one that's marrying you, so the order of the two doesn't really matter.” He told you in a tone that was too sweet, perhaps even on the verge of manipulative.

Coriolanus kissed you, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate, bruising force. You were taken back by the kiss, but quickly responded to it by melding your lips with his. It felt like he was sucking all of the air out of your lungs as he kissed you.

Breaking the kiss, his lips ghosted yours as he swore, “I'll bring you home with me tonight after we fuck and tomorrow I'll go talk to the general; tell him about our engagement.”

“I'm going to need a ring.” You reminded him, a small smile on your lips.

“I'll tell Grandma’am I'm ready to give you her heirloom ring in the morning. She'll know what that means.” Coriolanus assured you while picking you up and bending you over the lab table. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, he warned, “This is going to be quick.” You heard his pants pool around his ankles as he told you. “You’ll enjoy it, but I'm too hard and you're too stimulated for me to drag this out too long.”

Coryo quickly pulled down his boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. “Hold onto the edge of the table, Y/N.” He instructed, grasping his dick and giving it a few pumps.

Looking over your shoulder, as he lined his angry red tip at your soaking wet entrance, you asked, “Is this going to hurt, Coryo? I heard it hurts the first time.”

“With how your hole’s sloppy and dripping, my cock’ll easily slip in. The stretch might burn, but it won't hurt.” He explained before pushing into you.

You bit your lower lip as you felt his large cock stretch out your tight walls. It stung a bit, like he said it would, but it wasn't painful. Not like some of the rumors you heard.

“Such a good girl for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Continuing to push himself into your tight, wet heat, he pressed a kiss to your spine (a part that was exposed by the gap in your medical gown) and cooed, “You're taking me so well.” His breath was hot against your skin as he assured you, “Just a little bit more and I'll be balls deep, Y/N.”

Coryo and you both let out little moans whenever he bottomed out. He felt so good inside of you. You felt so full, and it fanned the flames of your desire for him. And Coriolanus felt that being sheathed in your tight, wet warmth was heaven. The feeling of your cunt gripping his cock was better than anything he could've ever imagined.

When he pulled his hips back, causing his cock to deliciously drag against your walls, and pushed them forward, driving his cock deep inside of you; hitting your special spot deep within you, you let out a delighted scream.

“That's it, let me hear you scream for me, my good little slut.” Coryo told you, his hips roughly snapping against yours as he chased down both your highs.

He knew with how sensitive you were that it wouldn't take much to get you cumming. He also knew that if he pounded into you mercilessly then he'd be quickly cumming too.

“Feels so good Coryo.” You whined, clawing at the edge of the table as you felt the head of his cock press up against the spongy spot inside of you. The spot that had your cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck, your cunt's so tight. So perfect, baby.” Coryo began to babble, the feeling of your tight virgin pussy sending him into overdrive. He swears, it feels as if your cunt was made for his cock. It fit him like a glove. A perfect fit. Squeezes him just right, takes him without any problems.

Coriolanus was pussydrunk on your perfect pussy. A pussy that he was claiming as his.

And only he's allowed to pound your pussy. Paint its walls white with his cum.

You let out a loud shriek when you felt his cum heavy balls slap against your oversensitive clit. That only causes him to dig his long fingers harder into your hips and piston even harder into you.

The lewd sound of your cunt loudly squelching paired with skin slapping skin and your loud moans filled the lab. The lab table beneath you was shaking from how hard Coriolanus was fucking you from behind. But you were so out of it with pleasure that you were worried around the table flipping over.

And even if it did, that wouldn't stop the platinum blonde from fucking into you like his life depended on it. No, he'd just keep pounding your pussy.

“You feel close.” Coriolanus gritted out as his fast paced movements got sloppier. “I'm close too, baby.”

“I’m gonna cum, Coryo. I-I’m gonna cum.” You announced in a mewl, your hips pushing back against his in a desperate attempt to chase your release.

“Me too. Me too.” Coryo told you while bending his body over yours, pressing his chest flush against your back, and grabbing your hands with his while rutting into you as quickly as he could. "Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my cum. Fuck a baby in you; show everyone yours mine."

All you could do was let out a string of babbled broken cries as Coriolanus had you cumming for the 5th time. And as your cunt tightly clenched him, he made a couple more sloppy thrusts before shooting his hot, thick ropes of cum into your womb.

Coriolanus laid on top of you, holding you as his cock was still buried inside of your pussy. He let go of your hand, only to grab your jaw and bring your head up towards his. Using his thumb, he wrenched your jaw open, only to hover his lips above your parted ones and spit into your mouth. The feel of it was disgusting, unnatural even, but without even thinking twice you swallowed his spit.

Coriolanus’ baby blues sparkle with possessiveness as he watches you swallow down his spit as if it was fine wine. Caressing your jaw, he told you, “You're not just my best friend, Y/N. You're my girl.”

His girl. That made your insides melt. You’ve always wanted to be his girl. You've always loved him.

And now you're his girl.

FINALLY

His girl.

“I'll help you get dressed in a minute, then we'll go home.” He told you before leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Okay.” You whispered against his lush lips.

Oh, how you couldn't wait for him to take you home with him. Where you belong.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth

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artymcartist · 2 months ago

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I'll be on vacation for a few days! Enjoy this in the meantime

Older designs for the sinnoh trio :] including older doodles I already posted of Lucas and Barry's full fits for clarity

In universes where Lucas gets sent back in time (alone), if he ever makes it back he probably starts wearing old styled clothing more often.

Barry/Pearl gets slapped with a massive growth spurt and his hair needs to be cut at LEAST once a month or it gets out of control. He possibly earns the battle tycoon position and/or continues to try for champion

Dawn/Platinum 100% is champion here (sorry, I love pokespe logic </3) and continues researching for Rowan whilst trying out anything new she can find. Girl loves new experiences

Lucas/Diamond somehow ends up being the shortest of the 3 and very honestly doesn't change much. He partakes in contests on occasion like his mother (he moreso likes the poffin house rather than the contest hall). Otherwise he's also helping with research.

They all hang out as much as possible, though Dawn/Platinum is often the busiest of the three. She always makes time for them though. Adding more pokespe logic, Lucas/Dia and Barry/Pearl continue doing their comedy routine (they've gone to a few competitions with varying levels of success).

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tomriddleslove · 10 months ago

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For the best.

✩Theodore Nott x Reader P2

Summary: The one where Theodore’s decision was clear, and he had to do the thing that pained him the most, to keep you safe. Alternatively: Theodore has to grapple with losing you to save you. If only it were that simple.

A/N: P2 of the Theo request ‘ I’m here’ ! I hope you enjoy it because its angst and more angst! Proof read like once but if there are any mistakes i’ll correct them over due course 😭��

The human intuition is a remarkable thing.

Despite the countless mathematical proofs, scientific findings and books upon books of logic and reasoning, intuition formed the basis of most things. Even the most foolproof of arguments in philosophy can be countered by human intuition.

With it being such a powerful thing, it would be foolish to ignore it.

But the day after your run-in with Theodore’s father, when you had woken up to an empty bed, your intuition screamed at you.

Something isn’t right.

You, rather stupidly, had chosen to pay it no mind. After all, it was Theodore you were talking about. The same boy who would cling to you and refuse to let go after the Holidays. He wouldn’t have any ill intentions, surely.

That was what you had thought 5 days ago.

5 days of not seeing or hearing from Theodore.

He had cleverly managed to avoid you in the school halls, and due to your conflicting lessons, you never saw him in Class either. You had checked the room of requirement, the library, and the hidden alcove between the divination tower and the hospital wing. You had even ventured onto the quidditch pitch during the matches in search of him but were met with a replacement chaser instead. When you had questioned the captain about Theodore's absence, he had merely shrugged and told you he simply stopped turning up.

Your initial thought was fear. Perhaps his father had taken it out on Theodore anyway. What if Theodore was hurt, or injured?

Your worry sept into your nights, now restless and in distress. You couldn’t bear laying in the bed you had shared with him mere days ago when you had absolutely no idea where he was. Fear gnawed at your insides from the moment the sun rose till the final rays of sunshine escaped the now bleak horizon, and Theodore was still nowhere to be seen.

You had rather bravely cornered his friends on the second day, stopping the platinum-haired boy in his tracks as you spoke.

“Malfoy. Have you seen Theodore anywhere?”

“And why on earth should I know where he is?” He responds, rather sassily as he eyes you, disdain evident on his face.

The anxiety that you felt in Theodore's absence overpowered the hate you had for his friend's obvious prejudice towards you, and you let out a sigh of exasperation as you stormed off. It had seemed as though everyone else had been seeing Theodore regularly, aside from you. You couldn’t fathom why you couldn't see him if everyone else said they did and why he hadn't sought you out in that period.

In pursuit of Theodore, you had completely forgotten about your own most basic needs, neglecting your sleep, amongst many other things.

Perhaps the first indicator that Theodore was very much still here, was when you were sitting in the common room, 4 days after he seemed to have simply vanished.

A girl with sleek black hair cut into a bob with thick bangs, one who you knew was part of Theodore’s friend group, had come up to you.

Pansy Parkinson - rather well known for her gossiping habits and association with some of the most popular Slytherin boys.

You had never really spoken to her before, but you had heard far and wide about her beliefs in pureblood supremacy. Simply put, a person like her would not associate with someone like you.

You look up in confusion as she approaches, and she eyes you for a second. She tosses something onto your lap, and you look down, the confusion etched further into your features when you see it's a sandwich, wrapped up in clingfilm. You look up at her and she speaks as though it pains her to say so.

“You haven’t eaten.” She says, before turning to walk away. You go to protest, but your stomach rumbles and you quickly realise you indeed hadn't eaten, and you were quite hungry.

You can't comprehend why someone like Pansy would have noticed that, let alone bothered to give you something, and your eyes linger on her retreating figure as you slowly unwrap the sandwich and take a bite.

“She had some,” Pansy says as she exits the common room, and Theodore lets out a sigh of relief.

“You can't run from her forever, Theodore. You’d have done well to listen to us when we told you it couldn’t ever possibly work out, with someone of such high status as yourself. You have me almost pitying the poor thing.” Panys mocks condescendingly, before waking off. Theodore lets out a sigh of frustration, rubbing a hand over his face. He catches a small glimpse of you sitting on the sofa, looking oh so tired as you sit alone, mindlessly chewing on the sandwich as you stare off into the fireplace. He yearns to reach out and unfurrow your brows, to kiss your cheek and draw you in. But he yearns even more to keep you safe.

Muttering a disillusionment charm, he slips through into the common room as someone else exits, and makes his way up to his dorm. He has to refrain from going to you, and he knows what he’s doing is for the best. He knows he can’t do this forever, and at some point, he’ll have to stop evading you. From then, he’d have to start ignoring you, treating you badly in the hopes you’d no longer want to associate with him. It would kill him to have to do so, but knowing he could guarantee your safety if he did, he was willing to pay the price.

He can only pray you’ll understand.

It came 2 weeks later when you were walking down the corridor on your way to Arithmancy. You had been navigating through the crowded hallways when a glimpse of a familiar head of hair had you whipping your head back. Sure enough, walking amongst his friends, was Theodore.

A mixture of relief, happiness, anger, and confusion all wash over you as you begin pushing through the crowd.

“Theo. Theo!” You call out, shouting the boy's name.

He turns around, looking over as he spots you. A glimpse of an unreadable emotion flashes in his eyes for a second, before his gaze hardens. His jaw clenches ever so slightly, and you notice - of course you notice. He looks away and walks straight past you.

You stand there, frozen. Your jaw twitches with a mix of frustration and hurt. How could he just walk past you like that? After two weeks of worry and sleepless nights, he acts as though you're a complete stranger.

Anger bubbles up within you, fueled by the rejection and confusion. You want to chase after him, demand an explanation for his disappearance and his cold behaviour. Unease and fear bubbling inside you, you clutch your bag ever so slightly tighter as you make your way back to your lesson.

You have no focus throughout your lesson, staring down at your paper as you grit your teeth. Was it because his Father found out? Were you really just a passing fancy to Theodore? All those tender words, his acts of love. Was it simply an act of rebellion from him?

Insecurity and doubts gnaw at you throughout the lesson, rendering you unable to focus or engage. You're so in your own head, that you don't even realise that the lesson is over till the sound of students packing up rouses you from your mental path of self-destruction. You hastily cram your belongings back into your bag and with a steely resolve, head straight for the common room.

Perhaps to your luck or dismay, Theodore is sitting there, nestled amongst his group of friends.

The familiar warmth of the common room feels suffocating as you draw nearer, your heart pounding in your chest with each step.

"Theodore," you say, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to appear composed. "We need to talk."

The group falls silent amidst your arrival, and Theodore looks up at you, his expression unreadable as he takes in your presence.

"I don't see why we would need to do that," he replies coolly, a hint of arrogance colouring his tone.

Confusion swirls within you like a tempest, mingling with the hurt and anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "What do you mean, we don't need to talk?" you demand, your voice rising with each word. "You disappeared for two weeks without a word, and now you act as though nothing's happened. Do you have any idea what that did to me?"

Theodore's friends exchange knowing glances, their smirks filled with thinly veiled amusement.

Theodore's jaw tightens, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of something resembling remorse flicker in his eyes. But it's quickly replaced by a mask of indifference as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Why should I care about your feelings?" he retorts, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're nothing to me."

His words hit you like a physical blow, and for a moment, you're rendered speechless, the sheer audacity of his cruelty leaving you reeling.

"How dare you?" you seethe, your voice trembling with righteous indignation. "After everything? Was I just a way for you to rebel against your father? A little fling?” You snap, tears in your eyes as you stare down at him. He swallows harshly, but he doesn’t say a word, looking up at you.

“Fuck you.” You spit, unable to say anything else. The hurt weighs heavy on you, lodging your words in your throat. It all of a sudden feels harder to breathe, and you're sure the room is spinning.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you turn on your heel and storm away, refusing to give Theodore the satisfaction of seeing your pain. Behind you, you can hear the hushed whispers of his friends, their laughter echoing in the air like a cruel taunt.

You slam the door to your dorm room, slumping against it as you dissolve into tears. Your body heaves as you sob, and your throat feels raw.

Mattheo’s eyes linger on the spot where you once stood, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he breaks the awkward silence that had fallen over the rest of the group amidst your departure.

“Reckon that was a bit harsh,” He says, a hint of amusement lacing his voice as Pansy snorts.

“Well, I don't know what else he expected. It’s for the best he got over this silly little relationship and focused on the fact that they’re due to be here any day now. Someone like Theodore should not be wasting his time on someone as insignificant.” Draco drawls, feet lazily propped up on the coffee table in front of them.

Theodore pushes up, tossing his book onto the table with force. The group all look up at him suddenly, and the anger is evident on his face as he stares at Draco for a second.

“Speak another word about her, and I’ll rip your tongue out.” Theodore threatens, his voice strained. He grabs his bag and shoves past Blaise, who’s leaning against one of the armchairs as he makes his way up to his dorm.

He wants to chase after you, to apologize and beg for your forgiveness. But he knows that doing so would only put you in more danger, and he can't bear the thought of causing you any more pain than he already has.

Hours pass in a blur of restless pacing and tormented thoughts. Theodore tries to distract himself with his studies, but his mind keeps wandering back to you, to the hurt and confusion etched on your face as you confronted him in the common room. Every time the image of your tear-filled eyes pops up in his mind, he has to clutch at his chest, willing to find a way to remove the physical ache that plagues him.

It's a few hours later when the sound of muffled screams and shouts rouse him from his inwards spiral. He frowns in confusion, straining as he wonders whether he is imagining it. He was met with silence and assumed that the emotional and physical toll that the past few days had taken on him meant he was simply imagining things.

A few minutes pass, and he hears it again.

A loud boom, followed by more screams.

No, he’s definitely not imagining it. He gets up, but just as he does so, Pansy bursts into the room, her eyes wide with excitement.

"They're here," she gasps, her voice filled with a sick exhilaration. "The Death Eaters are in Hogwarts."

Theodore's blood runs cold at her words, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of dread and apprehension. He knows what this means, and knows that he's expected to join them, to fight alongside his father and his allies.

But more than anything, he's filled with a paralyzing fear for you. His father now knows who you are, knows that you’re a Muggle, and Theodore knows that he’ll harm you if he’s to see you.

Theodore fumbles for his wand, clutching it tightly in his hand as he slips on his shoes, following Pansy. As he steps out of the now abandoned common room, the smell of smoke and the sound of frantic footsteps echo through the corridors. Panic grips the school as students and teachers alike scramble to find safety amidst the chaos.

Blaise and Mattheo run over to Pansy and Theodore, panting as they regroup.

“Draco is round by the bell towers. The fighting is heavy there.” Blaise says, but Theodore couldn't give two fucks, for his mind was consumed with worries about your safety.

Theodore knew you extremely well, and it's as if he knew you’d be in the midst of it all, trying desperately hard to fight amongst your peers against the very people Theodore was meant to be allied with. The image of his father spotting you enters his mind again and he clenches his jaw, ready to go. He looks over at Mattheo, who's unusually quiet. He's sure the unease on his face is mirrored on his own, and it seems as though they're the only two worried about this.

Despite his flaws, Theodore empathizes with the boy, who arguably would be expected to do the most. As the son of the dark lord himself, who else would be expected to fight first if not him?

Theodore squeezes his arm comfortingly, urging him to get his head back in the game and go.

“We have to. Firm it.” Theodore mutters to Mattheo, who looks up at him and nods reluctantly. The group begun running over to the bell tower, the acrid smoke stinging their eyes and the distant sounds of spells and screams growing louder with each step.

Approaching the midst of it all, they’re charmed with disguisement charms ensuring no one would notice them. Flashes of green and red bounce off the walls, crackling as students and teachers alike fight back.

Though he dares not admit it, Theodore cannot help but find relief in spitting a significantly larger number of death eater bodies knocked out on the floor. He ignores his insides churning at the prospect of having to fight his classmates. Blaise, Pansy and Mattheo seem to throw themselves straight into the fight, slinging curses left right and centre. Theodore ducks and dodges, weaving through the area as he searches for one person.

You.

He stumbles as a curse skims him, sending a searing pain across his upper arm. He whirls around, brandishing his wand with unforgiving anger as he sends the person who delivered the curse flying into the wall. How dare they hinder his pursuit of you?

Theodore would kill if it meant he could find you.

But he didn’t have to look any further.

Wincing as he grasps his injured arm, his head whips up when he hears an all too familiar voice.

“Confringo!” You gasp, sending a curse hurtling towards a cloaked figure, who’s bounded back.

Theodore shields himself from the sudden influx of heat, momentarily blinded by the orange flames as he spots you. You turn around, shielding a quaking first-year student as you single-handedly fend back a death eater.

“Go!” You shout, pushing the child to one of the teachers as you fight alongside a few others.

“You!” Another voice calls out, and Theodore is sure that he is dreaming, he has to be dreaming, for there is no possible way his very worst fears could have been confirmed so cruelly.

The person who stands in front of you is none other than his father.

“I was hoping I would have found you.” Theodore's father says, a cruel smirk twisting his lips as he advances towards you, his wand raised threateningly. Theodore's heart lurches in his chest at the sight of his father's malevolent grin, his worst nightmares unfolding before his very eyes.

"No!" Theodore cries out, his voice hoarse with desperation as he moves to go to you. But as he does, he slams back, an arm wrapping around him as they hold him back.

“We need to go.” Draco grits out, pulling him back. Theodore struggles against Draco's grip, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of fear and rage. He knows what his father is capable of, knows the danger you're in if he gets his hands on you.

But Draco holds him back, his grip like iron as he tries to drag Theodore away from the impending confrontation. "We have to go, Theodore," Draco urges, his voice tinged with urgency. "We can't stay here. It's not safe."

But Theodore refuses to listen, his eyes locked on you as his father closes in, his wand raised to strike.

"Let me go!" Theodore shouts, his voice cracking with emotion as he struggles against Draco's hold. "[name], please!" He shouts, in despair as he sees you cornered, wand knocked out of your hand.

Draco's grip tightens, his expression torn between concern and frustration as he tries to reason with Theodore. "You can't help her if you're captured," he insists, his voice strained with urgency. "We have to get out of here. Now!"

But Theodore can't tear his eyes away from you, from the danger that looms ever closer with each passing second. He knows he should listen to Draco, and knows that staying here will only put you both in more danger. But the thought of leaving you behind, of abandoning you to face his father alone, is more than he can bear.

As his father draws closer, Theodore's resolve hardens, his determination burning brighter than ever.

“Your wand, Malfoy!” You shout, and Draco looks at you with confusion, his grip around Theodore still tight as he desperately tries to pull Theodore back.

“Give me your fucking wand!” You shout amidst the chaos, and Theodore is struggling to break free.

‘She's going to make it. She just needs a wand’

“Give her the wand!” Theodore snaps, still straining against Draco's hold as Draco tosses the wand over to you, the wooden thing clattering against the floor. Amidst the shouting, the explosions, and the screaming, Theodore aches as he hears you so clearly. You reach for Draco’s wand, and instead of using it to defend yourself, you turn to Theodore and Draco.

With one final, desperate struggle, he breaks free from Draco's grasp, his heart pounding in his chest as he charges towards you, his wand raised to defend you at all costs.

His eyes lock with yours, and a horrible feeling of dread settles in his gut, somehow feeling as though he's stuck in this position for years when it's only been a matter of seconds.

You knew the consequences Theodore would face if he were to get involved.

It was clear.

It was stupidly, and utterly clear.

You berated yourself for not having recognised it earlier. Perhaps then, you would have been able to savour what little time you had left with him. The way he disappeared, became a stranger. It wasn’t because he hated you. No, rather it was the exact opposite.

He loved you so much, he had to leave you. He would happily live with you hating him forever if it meant you would be safe.

Your eyes lock with his, and he can't breathe.

Don’t be brave. Don’t be the hero. Be selfish, he pleads

“I'm so sorry.” You mouth, and he takes a step forward, reaching out to you. You keep the wand pointed in his direction, and a sudden blast of magic sends him reeling backwards, his vision swimming as he crashes to the ground in a daze. He tries to shake off the disorientation, to push himself back to his feet and come to your aid, but his limbs feel like lead, his body refusing to obey his commands.

As he watches helplessly from the ground, his father draws closer to you, his wand raised high as he prepares to strike. Theodore's heart clenches with a sickening dread as he is simply left helpless, unable to say anything as he watches his father grasp a fistful of your hair, dragging you up.

He chokes out a strained plea as Draco hoists him up, limp body resting against him as Draco supports most of his weight, leading him away. He can do nothing but watch in utter anguish as his father, the embodiment of all his nightmares, seizes you in his grasp. The sight of your struggle only serves to deepen his agony, for he knows the danger you're in, the cruelty you'll face at his father's hands.

Every fibre of his being screams for him to break free, to rush to your aid, to shield you from harm. But his limbs remain frozen, his body unresponsive to his desperate pleas. It's as if he's trapped in a nightmare, forced to witness the person he loves most being torn away from him by the very embodiment of evil.

Theodore's heart clenches with a sickening dread as his father's cruel laughter fills the air, the sound like a knife twisting in his chest. He wants to scream, to lash out at his father with all the fury and rage burning inside him. But he's powerless to do anything but watch. As his father drags you away, your cries echoing in his ears like a haunting refrain, Theodore feels a crushing weight settle over him. He's failed you, utterly and completely, his inability to protect you is a bitter reminder of his inadequacy.

Theodore fights to keep his eyes open, in fear that by some miracle he’ll be able to open them and save you. But as darkness consumes his visions, the harrowing sounds of your sobs echo in his mind, and the bruises and scars are nothing compared to the dread and fear that fills him.

His eyes shut, and the thought of your suffering has him praying he won't have to open them again.

@mildlyuninformative @chgrch @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @schaebickel @lillywildly @multifandom-worlds @batmandabest @always-reading

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott angst #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 19 days ago

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Hi, hi, hello Raven!!

It somehow say how are the Heartslabyul students to get their uh, marks? yk the diamond, the heart, etc..

How each Heartslabyul student gets their card suit mark? It’s stated in the Magical Archives that the Heartslabyul dorm leader determines this, though what parameters are used (beyond initial hunch), we don’t know. The very first application is done by the dorm leader using a magic stamp. Every application afterwards is done by the individual student using normal makeup. In Cater’s Platinum Jacket vignettes, he adds that there is roughly an equal number of each suit.

There has yet to be any confirmed logic for how the dorm leader assigns suits, but some fans theorize that each suit is associated with a particular trait or personality that the leader senses in the student.

It should be noted that while the current dorm leader, Riddle, does not have a card suit, we’re not sure if the dorm leader is always the exception. We also don’t know what card suit Riddle had when he was a regular student.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Heartslabyul #Riddle Rosehearts #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Trey Clover #Cater Diamond #Ace Trappola #Deuce Spade #notes from the writing raven #question #Cater platinum suit vignette spoilers

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chanranghaeys · 3 months ago

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📉 blunt

“They say keep your friends close…and your enemies closer. So I did.” “But why is it that when I got closer, you seemed less like an enemy…and more of something else?”

pairing: corporate!dino x gn!corporate!reader word count: 2.1k tags: angst, hurt, corporate competition, not friendly competition at all, almost office romance but asshole!dino happened? warnings: taunting, bickering, cursing, nsfw teasing, literal “not safe for work” stuff haha

a/n: this is for all the corporate working guys and gals out there. inspired by this video from the gose mag vol 2 shoot and a short twt convo that ensued with my moots and i hskdjfh

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Thank you everyone for your time. See you all for the final presentation next week.”

You slam the lid of your laptop shut—gently—at that last remark from your project lead. This project would make or break the reputation of the whole firm and everyone felt the pressure and tension. No big deal, just millions of dollars, everyone’s jobs, and the name of every person involved were on the line.

You paused for a while to take a moment for yourself when you were broken out of your reverie by a blunt force hitting the back of your head. You look for the source and glare at the black laptop bag in front of your face. Of course.

You looked up and were greeted with a smirking face and an eye roll. He looked like an angel with his platinum blonde hair and playful eyes, but he was the devil in disguise if you actually knew him.

It took all your willpower to remain seated and not burst out. That would not bode well for your professional image with most of the people still in the meeting room. There’s always been tension between the two of you since this project started. And you both knew the exact reason why.

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

You were tasked to lead the presentation during the meeting last week. It was an important one because it wasn’t just the team in attendance—the whole executive committee would be there. No big deal though, you were prepared and confident. You were wearing your smartest business attire, hyping yourself up because god knows how else you could get through that morning.

People started coming into the board room one by one. And in he came, as if he were the one commanding the room. The other guys came in their best effort, but he walked in wearing a tailored suit, somehow looking dressed down yet dressed up. And you knew he was in the room before you saw him. He took on a distinct scent, sweet but powerful, spicy and intoxicating. You glared at him and he gave a polite nod of the head in return.

“Good luck,” he said. His smile was full of goodwill, but his eyes were telling another story. His line of sight shifted from you to your laptop and back. An alarm bell rang in your head, but you couldn’t risk being rattled before it even started.

When the executive committee arrived, the president was expectant, looking toward his direction when they asked, “So who will be presenting the final proposal today?”

You projected your voice to take back command. “That would be me,” you said with a winning and confident smile, and you began. You breezed through the presentation with ease until you reached the part discussing the budget.

“Something seems off with the figures.” The chief finance officer narrowed their eyes and reviewed the document in front of them, comparing it to the presentation flashed on the screen.

What the… They were right, there was something off. The numbers were wrong and the numbers didn’t make sense, and the executive committee was here precisely so they could see the bottom line and make sure it was logically sound with the proposal. Shit. Why didn’t I see this before?

“If I may…”

“Ah, Chan.” Your project lead signaled you of the happenings, looking at him with a questioning look. “What is this?”

“Well, I reviewed the deck before this meeting and actually saw this coming.” What? Your smile as you looked at him was tight, civil, and seething. “Sadly, there wasn’t enough time to revise the presentation before this meeting, but I can point out how the numbers are supposed to add up.” He met your gaze at that last line as if mocking your seeming incompetency.

He stood up and started talking, pointing out the flaws in your computations. But he didn’t stop there. He continued to point out other flaws in your presentation and how those contributed to the wrong numbers. He didn’t stop. Almost as if…he planned this from the beginning.

You two were assigned to complete the final proposal and you’ve both been working on it for weeks. Believe it or not, you actually liked working with him. He was smart and knew what he was doing, and he was naturally good at it—Too good, you think to yourself sometimes.

But when your team lead assigned you to present and finalize the whole thing, he suddenly became competitive, hard to reach, and infinitely harder to collaborate with. His sudden 180-degree change did not make any sense at all to you, until today. Until you saw him presenting in front of the executive committee, engaging everyone in a way that you did not and could not.

I am his number one competition and he thinks he is better than me. He thinks I don’t deserve it. But that’s what he thinks.

Once the presentation meeting was over, you made your way to the employees’ locker area. With everything that happened today, you needed to breathe. You couldn’t stand the congratulations Chan was receiving, the ones that were supposed to be yours.

You found your way in front of your locker and opened the lock with ease. You didn’t know why you did that though, as your locker was empty save for a spare set of heels and a photo of you and your family attached to the back of the locker door.

He was in the room before you saw him, that sweet and spicy scent following him around wherever he went. The only time you acknowledged him was when he was standing to your right, leaning on the lockers and looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“Why are you here?” You greeted him with a side eye.

“I thought you could use some company.”

“What makes you think I’d appreciate your company?”

Chan shrugged. “You always used to like my company.”

“That was before you became an asshole.”

“I’m hurt. How could you call me that when I wanted to give you my congratulations?”

The scoff you let out echoed throughout the room. “Excuse me? You knew what was going on back there. You knew there was something wrong, and I’m willing to bet my ass that you’ve known about it for days—maybe even weeks. And you did not bother to tell me for reasons I cannot fathom aside from you being a selfish son of a bitch.”

“Ooh, the slander.” He breathed in through his mouth audibly with a hiss. “I can raise this up to HR as degradation.”

“Oh, boo hoo. Suck it up the way you do with the big bosses. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? You think you’re way too good to be at the same level as I am that you would go as far as almost sabotaging a presentation like that with this unprofessionalism.”

“Unprofessional? Who the fuck do you think saved your sorry ass back there?”

“Saved? You could have saved it by being cooperative in the first place and those damn numbers wouldn’t be a fuck up in the first place!”

You jump when Chan leaves your side and slams your locker door shut. But you are unfazed and laugh. “Wow, that’s so mature Chan.” But when you turn to face him, he remains there, his left arm caging you against the lockers.

“Chan, get the fuck away away from me.” You push against his arm and chest but he resists, instead folding his arm to frame your face with his forearm and pinning you effectively to the lockers with his height. He towers over you and you attempt to look up at his piercing gaze.

“Chan…what the fuck are you doing?” His perfume washes over your senses with his face and neck mere inches away. He arrived at the locker area more dressed down from the meeting, his coat and necktie gone and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. His argyle sweater vest hides a glint of silver from around his neck.

It takes all your willpower to meet his eyes in this close proximity. And you were both daring to do so, knowing that this was an area secluded from the rest of the office.

“Do you remember when you first arrived here, all bright eyes and smiles during your first day?” Chan’s eyes softened for a bit and matched the hushed tone of his voice. You could feel his breath on your face, smelling sweet from a breath mint. “One look at you and I knew why you were hired. One look and I knew you were special.” He raised his hand to slowly, painstakingly brush away a stray piece of your hair, before slowly tracing a finger down your cheek. “One look...and I knew you were dangerous."

“What are you doing?” You whisper as his finger continues to follow a line down your neck and to your shoulder.

“You were dangerous. You were a threat. Instantly, I knew that this new hire would rob me of the years of experience I toiled over in this company to reach my position when you just got it in the blink of an eye.” As he was speaking, the line continued like a livewire of sensation down your arm, to the side of your torso, and finally rested on your waist “How dare you?” When he said this, he tugged at your waist and closed the already minimal distance between your lower bodies. You take in a sharp breath.

You dare not move any part of your body, but he continues. He leans in to whisper to your ear, “They say keep your friends close…and your enemies closer. So I did.”

You briefly close your eyes and remember your first days at this company. Chan was one of the first people who made you feel welcome with his warm smile and infectious laugh, accompanied you during lunch breaks, and taught you the ropes. But you could never forget the mornings in the pantry when both of you would wait together for the machine to churn out the freshly brewed coffee. You stood beside each other in silence when no more topics could be shared, and day by day the distance between the two of you grew smaller and smaller—until the backs of your hands could almost touch each other, until your pinky fingers could overlap when you both set your hands on the counter.

Chan’s voice broke your reverie when he said, “But why is it that when I got closer, you seemed less like an enemy…and more of something else?” His other hand moved from against the lockers to delicately cradle your neck while his lips moved from your ear to hover over your lips with the tips of your noses lightly touching.

You couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your hands move on their own accord, one holding onto his hand on your neck and the other fiddling with his collar as you grab on his silver necklace to pull him as close as you can.

Your open lips touch his and remain there, hovering in an unresolved kiss. You share each other’s breaths as they both quicken and you feel him against your thigh. He tightens his grip around your waist and pulls you in until there is no distance between your bodies. Your heartbeat is in your ears, ringing with desire and a rush of blood to your head.

“So who am I, Chan?” You say this against his lips. “Who am I?” You feel his hand on your neck pull you in and you briefly see his eyes flutter and close in anticipation.

In a brief moment of weakness, you consider giving in. But you kept a rational mind, and the bruise to your pride and ego was all it took to hold him tight and force yourself away from his cage. He stumbles and hits the lockers that brace his supposed fall. Chan looks at you with bewilderment and sexual frustration evident on his face.

You look back in confusion and with pain in your eyes, hoping they mirror the pang in your chest containing the pain and hurt that your professional self could never show. Maybe you could have shown it if things went differently, and maybe you could have shown it to him. But the cutthroat nature of your jobs would never allow it—he proved it in front of everyone earlier.

“Because I know who I am. And I am not someone you just play with and screw over.” You fight back the tears in your eyes. You could not show weakness, not now. “Suck it up. And play this game right.”

You fix your disheveled clothes and hair and turn your back to him, walking away from him and wishing you could do the exact opposite. But there was no other choice in this matter.

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iamthepulta · 2 months ago

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@joemomrgneissguy SPACE MINING. HO BOY.

So when mining comes into a conversation, there are several 'laws' of mining and processing that I like to consider that people tend to forget:

Location and rarity of commodity

Location and rarity of extraction techniques/reagents

What is necessary for this operation to work?

Where does the finished product go?

Some of these are extraneous. Theoretically, we don't have to care that iron is common on earth and might be present on the moon, so it changes the conversation from "why?" to "how would we?". Same with extraction and reagents. If you don't care how expensive it is to ship- for example: water and carbon dioxide to the moon because you want to process He-3, nothing can stop you.

However, what will stop planning, is processing. Blowing up a rock is easy. Collecting the rock and breaking it into a usable form is not. If there isn't a plan for exactly what commodity is being mined and how to separate it and all the equipment that needs to be made to get it into a usable form, and a plan to get that equipment into space. God help the poor bastard.

And fundamentally, no matter HOW you turn it, people use the finished product. If there are no people where you are mining the Thing, you need to have a way for the Thing to get back to the people who need it. WHY are you mining the Thing? What is economic about the Thing being made? and Is it worth the money?

[angry geologist rant under the cut]

So the thing about space and asteroids is metals come in native form a lot of the time because there's nothing to oxidize them; it makes processing simpler and the density increases profit. This is usually what people talk about when they go off about space mining: Ohh, if we just reach this asteroid 400 years away there's so much Gold and Platinum! Ohh, if we just crashed a FUCKING ASTEROID INTO EARTH OR MARS we could be so rich!

However this is a LIE for two reasons: It's actually harder to process straight sulfides or straight metal because they aren't brittle. Instead of breaking into smaller pieces you can separate and process, they jam the crusher. Universities with mining departments often have huge chunks of impressive high-grade sitting around that were donated by companies when they jammed their fucking system. If you can't break it down, it's a useless fucking clump of rock.

Secondly, even if you have native metals clumped together like an iron-nickel asteroid, unless you want an iron-nickel product, you have to separate them. Since it's not brittle, you would have to pour a bunch of hydrochloric on it and wait for the reaction to dissolve the outer surface.

And all this is assuming the metals are on Earth. If not, you have to figure out how to do this in space. How much HCl will you need? How are you going to fly it up there? How are you going to break it down? How are you going to replace parts when they inevitably break?

The big "commodity" on the moon is Helium-3, which is extremely rare on Earth. (So yes, we have a need, and yes, there's substantial reason to mine it in a place where it's more accessible.) The logic starts breaking down around "getting it back" and "how does the operation work": In moon quantities (up to 15 parts per billion (ppb)), you have to mine about 150 tons to extract 1g of He-3. That's not unreasonable, to be honest, since economic gold hovers around 7-12 ppb. And technically you'd only have to heat the rock to 600-700 C. However, things do melt at those temperatures. Then you have to get it back to earth. Either a SpaceX-style return and come back, or a drop shipments- It's just insane to me though that we would use SO MANY RESOURCES to rip up the fucking moon, even with an automated system, when if you look at He-3 we already produce what equals 11 pounds of He-3 yearly from Oil and Gas deposits, it's just not collected.

I have more beef with planets that are theoretically resource-rich, but people just- don't care about getting them back to Earth? Venus has significant metal-Sulfides and Tellurides in its atmosphere, which is why people joke about the "floating oxygen colonies" on Venus. But congratulations! You've colonized a planet that is inaccessible to human technology because anything we've ever designed will dissolve. Same with Europa. To design something that works on Venus - not to mention extracts things in the proper form to be used in human conditions - and/or get them back to Earth means redesigning how we think of the properties of the periodic table.

With extraction, we play a lot with oxidation states, and one of the rules is to stay within Earth's aqueous conditions. If you oxidize anything too much, your solution will want to vaporize to oxygen. Reduce anything too much, and your solution will want to vaporize to hydrogen gas.

So, if you design anything on Earth designed for conditions on Venus, it will be unstable. If you design anything on Venus meant for Earth, it will be unstable.

Which is kind of the end of my rant, I guess. Don't crash something into Earth unless you can process it. If you can process it in space, can you get it back? Who's responsible when the thing breaks? Why the fuck is money being spent when 9 times out of 10 we have it here on earth with the conditions we're familiar with?

If we've somehow depleted Earth enough that we need resources from other planets, which would insinuate we have not figured out how to recycle our own metals, which is untrue, and likewise we have no business in space anyway- Where did all our resources go? Are we leaving for those other planets? Do we have faster-than-light travel to collect the new resources in a timely manner?

There isn't even water in space half the time and if you do have a colony on Mars and tech bros are going to process all the hematite to build their shitty underground Martian city, are they shipping water from the north and south poles to do this? Have they figured out how to renew the carbon filters that are going to be needed to get all the waste and organics out of it once it's used?

In my opinion, it's all just fucking stupid. Space mining tries to answer a question that doesn't need to be asked with people who don't know how mineral processing works who haven't thought what the logistics require and don't care that entropy demands even minerals in stasis don't last forever. But it's ~new~ and the dollar signs on metallic asteroids gleam in their eyes and I want to take out Elon Musk's kneecaps.

#Apparently a team in Europe proposed a way to separate Fe2O3 while producing oxygen. Which is definitely a step forward.#But I still say the actual water and reagents used to process rock to element are non-circular enough that it's a huge hindrance.#Anyway! Space mining! Quickest way to expose a techbro dipshit is ask where they'll get the water for iron oxide separation.#Fix our own planet and close the circuits in hydrometallurgy and then we can talk about space mining.#mining #geology #mineral processing #I hope this was actually legible and coherent lol. I didn't spend as much time on it as I did on the Gold one.#I hate space mining and gold mining for the greed and colonialist mindset.

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aliesbienish · 24 days ago

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A study of wolves: part six

chapter one ✩ chapter two ✩ chapter three ✩ chapter four ✩ chapter five

“I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen Lauren. I’m not interested in you like that,”

“Are you kidding?” She hissed, “and you’re interested in her?” Pointing a sharped clawed finger in your direction.

You prepared yourself for a polite no, but when Paul opened his mouth you thought you had misheard him.

“Absolutely.”

“Absolutely?” You queried as Lauren gaudy heels clicked away. “You didn’t have to say that, I’d have understood if you wanted to see her. We’re done with dinner anyway,”

“Trust me I didn’t say it because we’re busy, my answer would have been a no regardless.”

“And the other part?” Paul cocked in his head in confusion. “Telling her you’re interested in me? Was that just to get her off your case?”

It was amazing how insecure you were feeling, but you couldn’t help compare yourself to the blonde who just departed. The girl, while maybe a tad over the top, was clearly your typical small town beauty queen. Her platinum blonde hair, shiny clothes and pointed nails were of a stark contrast to your mud covered khaki and plaited hair littered with twigs. It felt like you were back in high school and that thought made you nauseas.

Normally you were more sure in yourself, but despite knowing Paul only a few days he seemed to destroy your sensibilities. For some reason your heart, despite your brains best logic, seemed to think that Paul could change the course of your future. You weren’t sure you were ready for the answer.

“Sorry, sorry. You absolutely don’t have to answer that. We can revert right back to before Lauren came over and pretend none of this happened if you like! I totally understand I’m probably not the type of girl you are usually in to, so don’t worry no need to let me down gently,”

“[Y/n],” he stated ending your panicked rambling. Grabbing onto your hand, he used his other to turn your blushing face so you were making eye contact. “Why wouldn’t you be the girl I’m typically interested in?”

“I know you don’t know me very well but this is it. I don’t have a girly, giggly side. I’m not the typical girl guys go for, especially guys like you.”

“Like me?”

“Well yeah. Attractive, smart, funny guys like you. I’m not their go to type,”

“You are assuming a lot about me, while simultaneously undermining how amazing you are. You aren’t doing either of us any favours.”

“What assumptions am I making?”

“My type in woman. Why did you think I was lying? I said nothing but the truth to Lauren.”

“But that means you’re…”

“Absolutely interested in you.”

“Oh. Can I ask why?”

“You can, but just know that it hurts me that you think it’s a valid question. I am interested in you because you are amazingly witty, so much so prior to the last five minutes I haven’t wiped the smile from my face. I’m interested because you are so insanely intelligent and passionate about what you do. I’m interested because you are openly kind and caring, and I can see how interested you are while still carefully respecting my boundaries. And I’m interested because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve seen, mud and all,”

“Right, is that all?” You gulped trying to make a joke, but instead your voice came out shaky and high pitched.

“Not even close. So now that I’ve made it abundantly clear how I feel, just tell me if I screwed up by clueing you in.” It was Paul’s turn to look anxious as he tried to pull back his hand still locked in yours.

You grabbed onto it, linking your fingers together. “No, you didn’t screw up. Quite the opposite really. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since we meet. But don’t you think this is crazy, we have known each other for a few days? I’m not sure we should be feeling like this,”

“Just because it seems fast doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

“I can’t imagine this ever feeling wrong,” You declared, biting your lips in anticipation.

“Me either, so who cares if some arbitrary rules say this is too fast. At risk of sounding like a cliche - if you know you know - and it sounds like we both know,”

“So does that mean we’re all in?”

“Absolutely,” Paul muttered as he placed his hand on the back of your head, gently pulling you towards him while giving you ample time to stop. Instead you leaned in pressing your lips gently to his. You could swear you felt sparks, and somehow kissing over discarded plates of chips in the corner of a small dinner was the best moment of your life.

“Well let’s hope we follow our subject matter.” You muttered as you reluctantly pulled away, “did you know wolves mate for life?”

Paul chuckled, you have no idea he thought.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"That's hilarious," Jared chuckled moments after Paul shifted for parole and his day came spilling out through their connection. "You couldn't even make it a day without falling head over heels in love with her"

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Hi all, sorry for the delay - but I hope this absolute sap will get me back in your good graces! I am finally finished with uni so actually have some time on my hands now.

Ali x

#twilight x reader #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #twilight #paul lahote x reader #paul x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote #twilight x you #twilight x y/n #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x you

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inkedroplets · 2 months ago

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Day 6 Not Realizing They're Injured

Yeah I'm really fucking late with this one, oops.

They were both finally playing the same game now, so why did Lena still feel like she was losing?

Looking across the table at the woman she had until very recently believed to be her best friend, Lena couldn’t believe she could ever be so blind. How could you not see it? Lena thought as she pretended to laugh at one of Kara’s work stories.

Knowing that Kara was lying and noticing that Kara was lying were two very different things and no matter how closely Lena studied her while they had lunch together, she couldn’t for the life of her spot a tell. Even with Lena so deftly guiding Kara down a trap-laden path hoping for her to slip up there was not much as an errant pause, nor a misstep or a moment’s hesitation. An absolutely flawless performance, Lena thought as she lay awake in her penthouse playing over the evening in her head. And as for her own? Kara didn’t seem to notice any change in her behavior although Lena could never be truly sure. Not when she had only now realized just how good of a liar Kara was. But she didn’t think Kara suspected anything. She (and all of her other so-called friends) had been lying to her for years now, why get suspicious now?

Not unless Lena gave her a reason to. Which meant keeping up appearances. It meant no unanswered texts or canceled lunch dates. No ducking phone calls or skipping game night. No matter how much she might want to. To do that would give Kara a thread she could tug on and that might mean the end of the whole rotten mess.

Would that really be so bad? a familiar voice in the back of her mind proffered. Let it all come out. Let it end and then let it go. She realized as she lay there on her bed in the dark that it was Jack’s voice—calming and yet befuddlingly logical. That produced a different kind of ache deep in her chest than the pain she had been carrying with her since she had learned the truth about Kara. Keen and as true as the slash of a knife.

Jack. There was nothing tiny about the box she had so lovingly placed the memories of him in before locking them away. But the box was only as strong as her resolve and in spite of her guilt (or maybe because of it) she never could help but occasionally take the box down from the high shelf in her mind to remember.

She could do all those things. No more fake smiles, no more evenings playing the fool, no more Kara… Let it end… Let it go… “I can’t,” she whispered, her words swallowed up by the dark of her bedroom. She pressed her palms over her eyes as if that alone could stem the flow of tears. Not until I’ve hurt her like she’s hurt me, she told herself. Not even sure if such a thing was possible. Aware that she wasn’t being completely truthful and doubling down on the idea that what she wanted—all she wanted—was revenge.

If this truly was a game then she was determined to find a way to win. Somehow.

There was never a shortage of invites to various functions that crossed her desk. A gala in Gotham one week, a fundraiser in Platinum Heights the next. She rarely had much interest in attending any of them, preferring instead to send a sizeable donation in lieu of her presence. But she had been more than happy to RSVP for a function being held in Gateway City when the invitation landed in her inbox.

She had no real interest in an evening of banal small talk with people she didn’t particularly care for or standing around in heels while nibbling on canapés that would do nothing to actually sate her hunger. But attending gave her the perfect excuse to give her the night off from playing the dutiful best friend. No insipid game night banter with people who had whispered behind her back while pretending to care. She told herself she was being methodical because how else could she approach something of this magnitude? Not paranoid, though. Was it possible to be so when everything you thought you knew was a lie? That’s why she chose to text Kara the news that she would have to cancel instead of calling her. Safer that way. No matter how much she would have liked to hear Kara bemoan the fact that she had lost her partner for game night with such little notice. As if she actually cared about her. Able to sound so sincere that even now Lena could almost believe that it was true….

You truly are a fool…

Another familiar voice. Lex this time. Voice dripping in that pitying derision that she was so accustomed to. It was how he had spoken to her as he lay dying on the floor of the cabin they had vacationed at so many times in their youth after she had shot him. It’s something that she has had to repeat to herself like a secret prayer more times than she would care to admit since learning the truth when part of her missed the friend she believed cared for her so very much. She waved off a waiter who had stopped to offer her a flute of champagne. She should have realized that Kara was lying to her. If Lex was right, she had known and simply refused to admit it to herself. In hindsight, she believed that it had to be the case. How else could she have been so blind unless she chose to be? “Wait,” she instructed before the waiter had a chance to get too far away. She plucked a champagne flute from the tray, drained it, and took another one in a well-practiced motion.

If captured by a malicious photographer it might have been enough to cobble together a hit piece about her having a drinking problem. Not such an off-base accusation considering how much she had been drinking lately but she had been doing that in the privacy of her penthouse. But at events such as these, the limited press that was allowed to attend was extended the courtesy that they would treat the guests with kid gloves and if that unspoken agreement was broken they might land their entire publication on a blacklist. At worst, the waitstaff might gossip about her when they had a free moment and she was certain that there were far more interesting things to whisper about than her quaffing champagne a bit too quickly. Lena made her second glass last a lot longer than her first, sipping it as she made a lap around the room. She ignored the few people who seemed interested in drawing her into a conversation, hoping they wouldn’t try again on her second pass around the room. That hope lasted just long enough for her to finish her second glass of champagne. She felt someone tap her on the shoulder and when she turned around to see who it was felt the glass slip cleanly through her fingers. “Close one!” Kara snatched it out of the air just inches above the ground. She mimed wiping sweat off her brow with her other hand and held the glass out awkwardly to her. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, looking mortified. “What are you doing here?” Lena blurted out before she could stop herself. “Oh!” Kara said as if she only just realized how out of the blue her appearance must have looked because she immediately began to fiddle with her glasses. “Well, CatCo always sends someone out to these things. Usually, people leap at the chance to cover something so low maintenance and with free food to boot.” She smiled at her little joke but when Lena didn’t smile back she faltered. “I never volunteer because the assignment is a bit dull…” She cleared her throat. “But I was down a partner for game night and didn’t feel like keeping score and I knew you were going to be here.”

Can’t leave a Luthor unattended, Lena thought and finally managed a smile that she hoped looked natural. “It’s one game night, Kara,” she scolded. One lousy fucking game night. “I know,” Kara said sheepishly. “And I do have to do a little work. Interview a few people. But after I thought we could maybe grab a really late dinner. I have per diem that I almost never touch and I don’t know how many of these appetizers I can eat without getting kicked out.” “I think the unspoken rule is five,” Lena said and glanced at her champagne glass as Kara laughed appreciatively. “And I don’t know if I can, Kara. I’m taking a red-eye flight back to National City,” she lied. “Oh,” Kara said, clearly disappointed although she rallied almost at once. “I could at least ride with you to the airport, then. If you wanted the company,” she added hastily. And then you could fly alongside the plane if you wanted… “Why would I mind?” she asked, still smiling, head tilted as if it were an actual question rather than a rhetorical one. She supposed that deep down it was. Kara shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, sounding somewhat unsure. “Just, these days…” She waved a hand out in front of her. “ I really do need to get a few quotes for my article.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Puff piece,” she said, “although one for a good cause.” That seemed to buoy her spirits. “Talk after?” “Just come find me,” Lena said cheerfully, hoping to make up for her initial tepid response from being caught on the back foot. It shouldn’t be too hard for you.

“I will.” Kara smiled although it didn’t quite reach her eyes and Lena was left to wonder if she didn’t suspect that something was off. Wondering why she should care if she did. More champagne would not improve the situation. It was liable to loosen her tongue and that would spell trouble but as Lena made more laps around the room, feeling trapped, feeling her anger licking at her insides like a fire that was on the cusp of becoming a blaze she couldn’t help but seek out one of the waiters and take another glass. She spotted one of the many waiters weaving their way through the crowd and began to make a beeline for them when the sound of gunfire blotted out the low drone of polite (and boring) conversation. This time when Lena dropped her glass there was no one there to stop it from falling. The sound of it shattering was drowned out by panicked yells from the crowd that first moved together as one like a cloud of panicked birds before people began to break off, running in all directions. Someone slammed hard into her shoulder, nearly knocking her over and for the second time that evening, Kara appeared at her side soundlessly, steadying her.

“You're okay.” Kara took her gently by the shoulders, bending down ever so slightly so that they were eye level as the world around them continued to devolve into chaos.

Lena could only stare blankly back at her, shocked at how repulsed she was by her touch although maybe she shouldn't have been. If you knew how much that touch used to mean to me… She slipped free of Kara's grip with no small amount of effort, seemingly ignorant of what was happening around her.

“Lena?” A shadow of doubt passed over Kara's face and she opened her mouth to say something when gunfire interrupted her.

“Nobody move!” There was a smattering of gunfire and Lena flinched, bracing herself for the worst, forgetting who it was standing in front of her. “He just fired into the ceiling,” Kara said in a low whisper that Lena would have found comforting once upon a time. “Five in total,” she murmured to herself. Her gaze had turned steely and Lena noticed that even her posture had changed ever so slightly.

You were either blind or in denial, Lena thought, wishing she knew which one it was for sure. So many strange coincidences and paper-thin excuses she had been more than happy to ignore

“I think they're here to rob everyone,” Kara said slowly, horror dawning on her face. So righteous was the indignation in her voice as she said it that Lena couldn't stop herself from cracking a small smile. “What kind of scum steals from a charity gala?”

“I'm sure they’ve made their peace with it,” Lena said sagely. “Maybe even convinced themselves that what they're doing is noble…”

“There's nothing noble about this,” Kara said, sounding shocked that Lena would even suggest such a thing.

“No,” Lena said, coldness creeping into her voice like an early morning frost, “I don't think so either.”

“We have to get out of here.” She cast a furtive look around the room, seemingly looking for a way out. A much harder task now that Lena could see the gunmen patrolling now, collecting the stragglers who had made an unsuccessful break for it while corralling the rest of them toward the center of the room. “Too much to hope for Supergirl to make an appearance,” Lena said, trying her best to sound wistful. “We’re a little far from National City.”

“Yeah…” Kara murmured. A hit, a very palpable hit, Lena thought. She wondered how fast the wheels in Kara’s head were turning as she tried to figure out a way for Kara Danvers to exit stage left so that Supergirl could make her triumphant appearance. And, golly, wouldn’t it be a shame that Kara had just missed her arrival? Wouldn’t it be fortuitous that they always seemed to just miss each other? Wouldn’t you have to be a fool not to connect the obvious dots? “Lena!” She felt Kara grip her hard by the wrist, bringing her crashing back to earth. Back to reality and the fact that the two of them were being held up at gunpoint. Kara had raised her hands in surrender and after a moment Lena followed suit. She did it without fuss. This was far from her first time around. Wouldn’t be a proper night out if someone wasn’t trying to kill me. “I know who you are,” the gunmen said after studying the both of them carefully for a moment. “Luthor,” he said slowly. He grinned and slid his aim over a few inches so that the gun was pointed level at her chest. As he did so, Kara tried to plant herself between them. “Please don’t try being a hero,” the gunman suggested in what he likely thought passed for friendly if such a thing were possible with him holding a gun. He looked to be just north of thirty and while at a glance it might have looked like he might have been invited to the gala, it didn’t take a very keen eye to tell that his suit was one off the rack instead of tailored. “We’re not looking to hurt anybody.” “Hence the guns,” Lena muttered. “We’re just looking to make a little money. Guns are just a barbaric necessity.” He waved his free hand as if to say pish posh to all that. “One quick bank transfer and you’ll be free to go.” Streamlined for your convenience, Lena thought. “That’s not going to happen,” Kara said and took a small step forward so that the muzzle of the gun was pressed firmly against her chest. Startled, the man took a step back before pointing the gun at Lena. This time he let his finger rest on the trigger. “I told you not to try being a hero,” he warned. “Do it again and you’ll regret it.” He waggled the gun and with his finger on the trigger, Lena felt the first hint of real fear. “Do you get me?” “Yes,” Kara said solemnly. “I get you.” “Let’s you and I go for a walk,” he said. Almost sounding like he was inviting Lena out for an after-dinner constitutional. He gave the gun another little shake and Lena knew the time for snark and barbs was temporarily at an end. “I can’t pay you anything if I’m dead,” Lena reminded him before she set off at a slow trod. “Duly noted.” “Lena…” “It’s just money, Kara. Stay out of it,” she warned and because she couldn’t help herself, had to add: “Why don’t you wait for Supergirl to save us?” She felt the muzzle press against the small of her back as she continued to walk and couldn’t help but let out a breath. If there was any silver lining at all to what was shaping up to be one hell of a storm cloud was that with Kara left behind she would be able to slip away and let Supergirl make her timely appearance.

Presto chango. Watch as I go from Lena to Miss Luthor and back again. It seemed foolish to still be dwelling on such things while being held at gunpoint. The truth about Kara was like happening upon a terrible accident that she felt guilty for gazing upon and with each passing second she realized just how bad it really was and that made it that much harder to look away.

It was an awful thing to do to her. But the thing that kept her up most nights, that kept the fires of her anger burning bright, burning hot was how cruel it was. How cruel that Kara was.

Again, she found herself lost in her thoughts. Which was why she didn't initially hear Kara call out. She did however hear the warning shout from the gunman. That and the feeling of the gun’s muzzle scraping against the small of her back. She turned and saw that he had the gun pointed at Kara. For all the good that will do you, Lena thought. She felt a grim kind of satisfaction in the knowledge that he was far far out of his depth. He could have emptied the clip shooting at Kara for all the good it would have done him. Girl of Steel and all that… All those times I was so worried for her… And there had been so many times. She had always feared the worst because she had learned early and often that the worst always seemed to come. Over and over, relentlessly so. There had also been the superstition that she had never quite been able to believe in, even in the depths of her self-loathing nor had she been able to dismiss it completely; that she was poison for those she loved. Plenty of evidence to corroborate such an illogical belief. Her mother… Jack… Even Lex… Which was what had made loving Kara so terrifying.

It seemed almost funny now. After all, if you couldn’t laugh at yourself who could you laugh at? Sometimes she had laughed. Usually when she was lying alone in the dark of her penthouse. Laughed at her foolishness and at how completely she had been deceived. Fooled by empty words and a pair of glasses. Laughter that had always turned into tears.

But she found nothing funny at the sight of Kara being held at gunpoint. Despite knowing she was in no danger at all. The man might as well have been holding a popgun but still… There was a part of her—a small part, she told herself—that still couldn’t reconcile the fact that Kara Danvers and Supergirl were the same person. That she was somehow afraid for her. Sometimes when she looked at her, all she could see was Kara. Maybe that was all she wanted to see. She moved without forethought, as if in a dream. She saw the harried panic on Kara’s face before her face twisted into a moue of pure terror. She heard the shot and then found herself in Kara's arms, enveloped in them, unable to get free. “Lena…” “You can get off me now,” Lena muttered, trying (in vain) to free herself.

“Lena, stop! Just stop!” Kara grabbed both of her hands but relinquished her grip almost at once as if she had been burned. “Oh God, Lena.”

The note of unrestrained terror in Kara’s voice sent a shiver through her. What could possibly scare Supergirl so badly? Lena thought that such a question had all the makings of a terrible joke. It took her another moment to suss out the answer. She was bleeding. Instead of the panic that such a realization should have produced, Lena only felt a dull kind of surprise. Even when she looked down and saw that the front of her dress was soaked with blood, she only managed a small “Oh,” of surprise. She pressed her hand to her chest and it came away wet and sticky and red. The pain was impossible for her to describe. She thought she found the right word but it slipped away before she could decipher it. Everything was slipping away.

You truly are a fool.

Lex’s voice again. His words. True words. In a way, it seemed fitting if those were the last ones she heard.

Yes, Lex, Lena thought as Kara’s face swam in front of her, eyes fluttering open and then closed, I suppose in the end that's all I am. Touch-and- go. It was the only news Lena’s Doctor had been able to give. He had spoken at length about the severity of her injuries and what was being done in response. She had listened numbly, not moving. There might have been a comforting hand on her shoulder. Probably Alex, although she could never say for sure. No promises and no light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

All that was left for her to do, all that she was able to do was to sit and wait. She kept a vigil at Lena’s bedside while she murmured half-remembered prayers to Rao and apologies to Lena who balanced precariously on a knife’s edge between life and death. While all the while a persistent voice in her head repeated the same thing over and over: This is all your fault.

She didn’t sleep. The only rest she allowed herself was when she dropped into a fretful doze. A few stolen minutes of sleep here and there. Often interrupted by vivid nightmares of Lena lying in a pool of blood. But what roused her this time was the faint rustle of sheets, of movement. “Lena…” She kept her head bowed, too afraid that it might be her mind playing a trick on her.

“Where am I?” “The hospital.” Kara sat up and saw Lena staring at the ceiling with a blank expression on her still-too-pale face. Her eyes flicked over to Kara and then back to the ceiling in one fluid motion.

“I’m alive, then,” she observed in a toneless burr as if the subject only tangentially interested her. “Yes,” Kara said and felt the crushing weight of her grief and her guilt start to recede, if only for a moment. She tried to smile, to hold onto the relief she felt in the moment and not what came before or what she knew must come after. But the memory of Lena collapsing in her arms kept intruding and with it the knowledge that she must do what she had put off for far too long. She needed to tell Lena everything.

“You got hurt because of me,” Kara said, her mouth dipping into a grimace. She watched Lena’s eyes flick over to hers again. Yes, I did, was what Kara thought the expression on her face said. And then before she could be sure, Lena’s gaze flickered away and her expression became inscrutable. “I don’t remember much,” Lena said after a stretch of silence. “But I’m pretty sure the person responsible for hurting me was the one holding the gun.” Again, Kara tried to smile. It felt like trying to start a fire with wet tinder, no matter how hard she tried she simply couldn’t make a go of it. “That’s not what I meant, Lena…”

“I know what you meant.” “Why did you do it, Lena?” She swallowed. “Stepped in front of me like that.” Without realizing it she touched the place on her chest where Lena had been shot. “You shouldn’t have…”

A deeply sardonic smile spread across Lena’s face but she didn’t so much as glance at Kara. She just continued to look up at the ceiling as if there was something there to see. “I don’t know,” she answered, sounding perplexed. She sighed and that seemed to cause her pain because she grimaced. “I don’t know,” she repeated before finally looking at her. “But you’re right, I shouldn’t have. What kind of fool tries to take a bullet for Supergirl?”

Kara felt as if the ground had suddenly collapsed beneath her, so sudden that it felt like vertigo. On instinct, she tried not to let it show on her face. Something she hadn’t been particularly good at but had at least been able to muddle through, even in the face of some truly bizarre circumstances. But one look at Lena and she knew that there was no more running, no more hiding. “You know,” she said in a low whisper. Lena observed her for a time and just as Kara was about to say something, say anything to break the silence, she spoke. “I thought you would try to deny it,” she said. It wasn’t an accusation. From the almost bored way she spoke, it was barely even an observation. “How long have you known?”

“Long enough,” Lena said. “Does it matter?” She spoke in that same disinterested tone. “Or are you just trying to figure out how much you should apologize for?”

“No,” Kara said, unable to hide the hurt in her voice at the question.” She looked at Lena imploringly, both wanting her to look at her and being afraid of what she might see in her eyes if she did. “I’m so sorry, Lena… I wanted to tell you… So many times.”

“Oh?”

The indifference in her voice made Kara think that she neither believed her nor cared either way. Why would she believe you? Why would anyone?

“Even if that were true,” Lena said and seemed to predict that Kara would attempt to interrupt because she held up a hand to try and stop her from doing just that. “Do you want credit for thinking about being honest with me?” “That’s not it,” Kara said, unable to help herself. “You really had me fooled,” Lena said. She spoke carefully as if each word were something she wanted to hold onto before finally letting them go. “How much of that was you being a better liar than I thought and how much was me being determined not to see what was right in front of me I still haven’t figured out.” “Lena…” “Probably a little of both,” she continued as if Kara hadn’t said anything. “I’ve had plenty of time to think it over. To reexamine every moment of our time together. It was easier to blame myself. Easier to think that I was a fool who—” “It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.” Kara thudded herself on the chest with the flat of her palm hard enough to produce a hollow drum-like sound. “I should have told you the truth so long ago…” Now, with everything crashing down around her, it was that much easier to see how many opportunities, how many chances she had let slip through her fingers because it was easier that way. She had waited too long. “—wanted to keep playing pretend a little longer. But that doesn’t absolve you or anyone else, does it?” “No it doesn’t,” Kara agreed at once. “It’s all my fault, Lena.” She could feel a growing lump in her throat and tried to swallow it away. “I-I don’t know where to begin,” she said honestly. There were too many things she wanted to say and even more things that she needed to say.

“If it makes you feel any better, the first thing I wanted to do was hurt you.” She looked mildly amused at this. “Those Luthor genes always find a way to rear their ugly head, don’t they?”

“You were hurt and upset,” Kara said and she actually managed to smile. As if this revelation were just a bump in the road for them to weather. Desperately wanting that to be true. She could fix this, she could…

“That sounds like you,” Lena said and in that moment she sounded so much like her old self that Kara believed that maybe they really would be okay. “Kara Danvers,” she clarified. “Supergirl would never be so forgiving. Not to a Luthor.”

“That's not true!”

“How did you keep it all straight?” Lena asked. She sounded genuinely curious. “Was it like turning on a switch? Glasses come off and you can finally tell me how you really feel?”

“No!”

I’m a good liar,” she said, just stating a fact, not taking any pride in it. “But you, you're a natural. Maybe you were lying to yourself, too. It would explain how you could treat me so differently and seemingly not bat an eye. Or maybe you’re just that cruel.” “I know how it must look,” Kara said quickly. She expected Lena to interrupt her or to continue as if she hadn’t heard her. Kara was ready to push onward either way. She needed her to understand. She just needed to find the right words to do that. “And I can’t imagine how you must feel, Lena… I can never apologize enough for hurting you.” She looked away, too embarrassed to meet Lena’s disinterested gaze. “If you let me try and explain…” “It would be a waste of both our time,” Lena said, not unkindly. “Whatever you have to say, whether or not you’re honest with me, it doesn't matter.” Don't you see? said the expression on her face. “I can never trust you again.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as if she had come to this conclusion long ago and for all Kara knew, she had, but there was something in her voice that sounded almost like regret. It made the guilt roiling around in Kara’s chest almost unbearable while at the same time offered her a grim kind of hope that maybe all was not lost.

“I don’t blame you for feeling that way,” Kara whispered. Her voice warbled and she knew that meant tears. Just as sure as storm clouds meant rain. The ground was crumbling beneath her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Thank you for your permission,” Lena said with such smoking sarcasm that Kara almost flinched. “Lena…”

“This is pointless,” Lena said. She took a breath and winced, a hand instinctively exploring her bandages. “I could demand answers for every last question I have and what would that leave me with besides something I already know? You never trusted me. And all those affirmations and promises you made me didn’t mean much in the end..” “That’s not true,” Kara whispered. “I meant those things. I still do.” “No,” Lena said patiently, “you didn’t.” She let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh. “I’m tired, Kara. It’s my fault for dragging my feet once I learned the truth. My obsession with revenge. I’ll take full responsibility for that but now I just want it to be over.” “Why did you do it?” Kara asked, unaware that she had begun to cry. “Why did you step in front of me like that? You knew, you know that I’m Supergirl. You could have died,” she whispered. It was something she was only able to admit now that Lena was awake.

“I didn't mean to,” Lena said. Scant color crept into her cheeks. “I may be a fool but I'm not an idiot.” This seemed to amuse her because the corners of her mouth twitched. “My body moved on its own.” She traced a hand over her bandages, seemingly deep in thought. She looked up and shook her head slowly. “Even after I learned the truth, even being as hurt and angry as I was, there were still times I had to remind myself that you weren't just Kara. You were Supergirl.”

I'm sorry,” Kara thought, wishing she could take it all back if it meant sparing both of them the pain that she had caused them.

“Because it was almost too easy to forget. Because I wanted to or you're just that good of an actor. Take your pick,” she said with a shrug. “And at the benefit, when I saw that bastard pointing a gun at you, all I saw was Kara.”

“I'm so sorry, Lena… For all of it.”

“I took a bullet for you,” Lena said. “An utterly pointless gesture,” she conceded, “but it has to count for something, don't you think?”

Kara looked at her, confused. “I guess so…”

“Let it be over,” Lena requested. “For good. I never want to see you or any of the others ever again. That can't be too much to ask, can it?" No, Kara thought as tears slipped won her cheeks, racing like raindrops down her cheeks and sliding down her chin, that's not too much to ask... She stood up on numb legs and trudged slowly from the hospital room. She allowed herself to look back just once and saw that Lena was crying as she stared up at the ceiling.

#whumptober #my writing #this very much wanted to turn into a multi chapter mess #supercorp fic #maybe? technically it's a breakup of sorts so #lena luthor

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slutty-transformation-stories · 1 month ago

Text

Bimbocaine Part 2

Lydia's eyes narrowed as she studied the pouch of pink powder she had found in her friend's abandoned apartment. It was an unusual artifact amidst the clutter of forgotten textbooks and half-used makeup products. The material felt foreign to her, almost alive, as it shifted in her palm. She had brought it to the university's science lab, eager to understand the mystery it held.

Her curiosity piqued, Lydia carefully poured a small amount onto a slide. She had to admit, the color was quite lovely—like the inside of a seashell or a delicate shade of bubblegum. The fine, shimmering particles danced under the fluorescent lights as she carried the slide over to the microscope. The anticipation of discovery made her heart flutter, a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time.

Just as she was about to peer into the eyepiece, the lab door swung open, and a gaggle of her eager students spilled in. They surrounded her, bombarding her with questions about the upcoming exam and their latest projects. She held up a hand, the slide still in her other, and tried to explain that she was busy, but they were having none of it.

One particularly clumsy student named Jenna reached out to touch the pouch, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What's that, Professor?" she asked, her voice a high-pitched squeal that seemed to echo through the room.

Lydia sighed, but before she could respond, the pouch slipped from Jenna's grasp and hit the floor with a soft thud. The seal gave way, and a cloud of pink glittery smoke erupted, enveloping the entire room. The students shrieked, and Lydia's heart skipped a beat as she realized what had just happened. The smoke smelled faintly of strawberries and vanilla, a scent that seemed to tickle her nostrils and make her head swim.

As the cloud began to dissipate, she noticed something peculiar. Each of the girls, one by one, started to transform. Their breasts ballooned to impossible sizes, pushing against their shirts like overfilled water balloons. Their asses inflated, stretching their pants until the fabric looked ready to tear. Their hair grew longer, a cascade of platinum blonde waves that flowed down their backs like a river of spun silk.

Their nails grew at an alarming rate, turning into sharp talons that clicked against the lab benches as they moved. Their faces took on a bitchy perfection, their lips curling into a perpetual snarl that seemed to dare the world to mess with them. The transformation was as mesmerizing as it was disturbing, and Lydia could do nothing but watch in shocked silence.

As the pink haze cleared, she looked down at her own body and felt a strange sensation. Her own breasts began to swell, pushing against her lab coat, and she gasped as her hips widened and her waist cinched in. Her reflection in the gleaming microscope showed a woman she hardly recognized: her once-professional attire now clung to a figure that was the epitome of a bimbo's dream. She felt lighter, more... confident, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders and replaced with a newfound sense of allure.

The giggles from her students grew louder, and she realized that they were all going through the same metamorphosis. They stumbled around the room, their eyes wide with excitement and disbelief as they examined their new figures in the glass panels of the lab cabinets. Each of them was now a mirror image of the other—platinum blondes with hourglass shapes that defied logic and gravity.

The room was filled with the sound of zippers being yanked down and buttons popping off as they struggled to free themselves from their suddenly-too-small clothing. The fabric tore away, revealing skin that gleamed with a glossy sheen under the harsh lights. The pink smoke had left a faint sparkle on their bodies, making them look as if they were dusted with the finest glitter.

Their laughter grew more manic, each giggle escalating into a full-throated cackle that echoed through the lab. The air was thick with a cocktail of the strawberry-vanilla scent and the heady perfume of their newfound sexuality. It was intoxicating, and even Lydia found herself smiling as she watched the young women prance around, their movements now more seductive than she had ever seen.

With a collective decision that seemed to resonate through the air, the group of busty bimbos made their way out of the lab and towards the university's exit. The hallways were a blur of pink smoke and glittery footsteps as they sashayed down the corridor, leaving a trail of bewildered onlookers in their wake. The transformation was complete, and the need to show off their new selves was palpable. They were drawn to the mall like moths to a flame, each step carrying them closer to a place where they could truly embrace their newfound bitchiness.

Once at the mall, they descended upon the first cosmetic counter they saw. The poor salesgirls didn't stand a chance against the onslaught of glammed-up scientists. They demanded the works: smoky eyes, lush lashes, and lips painted a shade of pink that matched the powder's explosive origin. The once-studious young women now moved with the grace of seasoned models, their hips swaying as they discussed the merits of different foundations and eyeliners.

Each bimbo picked out an outfit that screamed "look at me" from the racks of a high-end boutique. The clothes were tight and revealing, leaving little to the imagination. They paraded around in their new attire, their every move calculated to attract the maximum amount of male attention. And it worked. Heads turned, jaws dropped, and whispers followed them as they strutted down the mall's gleaming corridors.

Their transformations were complete, and they reveled in the power of their newfound sexuality. They were like a pack of lionesses on the prowl, each one more stunning than the last. Lydia felt a strange kinship with these young women she had once taught, now her sisters in glamour.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, they turned their sights to the club, a place that had once been a bastion of their youthful innocence. Now, it beckoned to them like a siren's call, promising a night of indulgence and debauchery. The bouncer's eyes widened as he took in the spectacle of six busty blondes dressed to kill, and with a nod of his head, they were granted entry without a second glance.

Inside, the bass thumped like a heartbeat, and strobe lights painted the walls in a chaotic dance of color. The air was thick with the scent of cologne and cheap perfume, a stark contrast to the delicate fragrance of strawberries and vanilla that lingered on their skin. The crowd parted for them like the Red Sea, all eyes drawn to their voluptuous figures and the aura of confidence that surrounded them like an invisible force field.

The club was a candy-coated wonderland of temptation, and they were the sweetest treat on display. The bartender, a young man with spiked hair and a smug smile, couldn't resist the allure of their new forms. He slipped them drinks, each one a little stronger than the last, and they giggled and flirted in return. Their laughter was like a siren song, drawing in a flock of eager men, all eager to taste the sweetness they exuded.

The first to approach was a businessman in a tailored suit, his eyes glazed over with a mix of lust and bewilderment. He stumbled over his words as he tried to charm them, his hand lingering a bit too long on Lydia's newly rounded hip. She felt a thrill at the touch, the fabric of her dress sticking to her skin as his hand slid away. The other girls were similarly accosted, each man's grip a little more daring than the last.

A beautiful blonde bimbo at the back of the club caught their attention, her outfit even more outrageous than their own. She beckoned them over with a wave of her hand, her nails glinting like diamonds in the disco lights. As they approached, Lydia noticed the name tag on her glittery top—it read "Barbie." The woman's smile was wide and welcoming, a knowing twinkle in her eyes that sent a shiver down Lydia's spine.

It was Anna, her friend from university who had once been a brooding goth with a penchant for dark poetry and a love for the macabre. The transformation was unmistakable yet unsettling. Anna's raven locks had been replaced with the same platinum waves as the rest of them, and her once solemn demeanor was now a caricature of cheerfulness.

"Welcome, my fellow bimbos," Anna purred, her voice now a breathy whisper that seemed to float on the air. "You're just in time for the main event."

Her words sent a ripple of excitement through the group. They huddled closer, eager to hear what she had to say. Anna leaned in, her massive breasts threatening to spill out of her tight dress as she whispered the details of their new lives. It seemed that the pink powder was not just a one-time transformation but a gateway to a world where beauty and brains were a potent cocktail of power.

Lydia felt a twinge of doubt, but it was quickly drowned out by the pulsing music and the electric energy of the club. The pink smoke had not only changed their appearances but also their personalities. They were no longer the shy, studious girls they once were. They had become creatures of the night, hungry for attention and validation from the men around them.

The night passed in a blur of flashing lights and groping hands. Each bimbo took turns disappearing into the crowded bathroom, returning with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. The scent of cheap cologne and sex hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sugary sweetness of the pink dust that still clung to them.

Lydia found herself in a dimly lit corner with a man who couldn't keep his hands off her new, voluptuous body. His touch was rough, but she didn't mind. It was as if she had been waiting for this moment her entire life. The feel of his calloused fingers on her skin sent shockwaves of pleasure through her. She leaned into his touch, her body moving instinctively to the rhythm of the music.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Jenna, who had found a partner of her own. The young man looked like he had just won the lottery as he struggled to contain his excitement, his eyes ogling her newfound assets. Jenna giggled, her voice now a sultry purr that seemed to ooze confidence and sexuality. She leaned in close to Lydia, whispering into her ear, "Let's go, I know just the place."

The group of bimbos followed Jenna, their hips swaying in unison like a line of synchronized swimmers. The music grew louder, the lights brighter, and the men more brazen. Each girl was claimed by a different suitor, and they disappeared into the throbbing mass of bodies like droplets of water in a storm. Lydia felt a strange mix of excitement and trepidation as she was led away by her chosen man.

In the cramped backseat of a sports car, Lydia's mind raced. This wasn't her usual scene—far from it. But as the man's hand found her thigh, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. His touch was firm, possessive, and she found herself leaning into it. The pink dust had transformed her into someone new, someone who didn't need to think about the consequences of her actions.

The car pulled up to a sleek, modern mansion that looked like it had been plucked from the pages of a high-fashion magazine. The party inside was already in full swing, a cacophony of laughter and bass that vibrated through the walls. The air was thick with the scent of wealth and desire, and as they stepped out of the car, the other bimbos were immediately drawn to it.

They strutted up the driveway, their heels clicking like a chorus line of dominatrixes. The door swung open, revealing a grand foyer with a sweeping staircase that beckoned them to ascend into the heart of the debauchery. They were greeted by a sea of men in suits, their eyes devouring the bimbos like hungry wolves spotting fresh prey.

The mansion was a playground of opulence, each room more decadent than the last. Red velvet couches, gleaming chandeliers, and walls lined with gold-framed mirrors reflected the pink glow of their skin. It was a place where inhibitions were left at the door, and the only currency was beauty and desire.

Lydia and her bimbo entourage were led upstairs to a suite that looked like a set from a music video. A king-sized bed, big enough to accommodate their inflated forms, sat in the center, surrounded by plush pillows and silk sheets. A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket, and the air was heavy with the scent of more pink dust, hinting at the night's true intentions.

The man who had claimed her wasted no time, his hands roaming her new body with a sense of entitlement that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. His touch was rough, his intentions clear, but she found herself craving the validation it brought. The other couples paired off around the room, the sounds of passion and pleasure rising like a symphony of lust.

The bimbos were in their element, their every move calculated to ensnare the men around them. The mansion was a fortress of sin, each room a testament to the power of their newfound sexuality. They were the queens of this domain, and the men were their willing subjects.

As the night progressed, the transformations grew more pronounced. The pink dust had not only altered their physical forms but had also imbued them with an irresistible allure that seemed to corrupt everyone they touched. The men who had brought them here were now under their spell, eager to do their bidding, to give them anything they desired.

The next morning, the bimbos woke up feeling more alive than ever. They looked at themselves in the mirrors that adorned the walls of the suite, admiring their new figures and the glint of power in their eyes. The town was their oyster, and they were the pearls inside, ready to be discovered.

#corruption #dumb thicc #phat ass white girl #dumbification #bimboification #brainwashed #mind conditioning #bimbo doll #cheating sex #cheating woman #bimbo dreams #cnc drugging

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mysteryshoptls · 9 months ago

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SSR Malleus Draconia - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Malleus: So, this is the Land of Dawning National Museum of Art… It's much more impressive than I had imagined. Very fascinating to see their exhibits touch on varied matters of import.

Malleus: Art galleries in Briar Valley generally feature art exhibits revolving around fae lore. This is a refreshing visit.

Malleus: This place does seem to have a few works of art that I can place, however. And I see that paintings that depict the Thorn Fairy seem to still gather a crowd here.

???: Look at all them surrounding just one person in full force… That's just cowardly.

Malleus: No need to chide them, Spade. It's cruel enough to expect those children of man to hold their own against a great and powerful being.

Deuce: D… DRACONIA-SENPAI!? HELLO, SIR!

Malleus: Hmph, don't bristle so. We can take this prime opportunity to study this painting together.

Malleus: When the Thorn Fairy visited human lands, she was immediately met with animosity…

Malleus: The number of art pieces that depict this very story is numerous, even in Briar Valley. We even had one displayed in the castle I was raised in.

Malleus: When I was a wee lad… My tutors would constantly tell me to grow up to "be a mage as great and powerful as her."

Deuce: Your… tutors!? There were people that could actually teach you something!?

Malleus: Of course. I had some of the finest mages in Briar Valley at my disposal.

Malleus: I often found my history and etiquette lessons to be of great interest… But there was no one who could instruct me in the ways of magic.

Malleus: Of course, that would be because everything from their magical power levels to their actual capabilities were far below me in strength.

Deuce: Wow, that's amazing… Can't believe you were that strong from a young age.

Malleus: That is nothing too surprising. My grandmother possessed formidable magic, and so did my mother, I hear.

Malleus: However, it took me quite some time to fully understand the difference in strength between myself and those around me.

Malleus: "Why are you teaching me something so ridiculously simple?" I'd angrily wail every class. "Are you underestimating me?"

Malleus: Every time I sent a tutor packing, my guardian wouldn't hesitate to scold me mercilessly.

Deuce: You're saying there was someone who could even scold you!? Briar Valley is way too intense…

Malleus: Even I would listen to the advice of a trusted person. When I think back on it, I certainly had my more immature moments.

Malleus: Only incidents such as burning the gardens to a desolate crisp, or destroying castle towers by calling down lightning strikes, however.

Deuce: THOSE ARE HUGE INCIDENTS!!

Deuce: Ack! If I make Draconia-senpai angry now, the museum might be in trouble…!?

Malleus: No worries, I am no longer a child. I would not do such a thing as destroy a museum filled with priceless artifacts on a mere whim.

Malleus: It would be more logical for me to punish the offending target than affect my surroundings in my ire, would it not?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Deuce: That's a painting of the Lord of the Underworld being displayed there. And those two guys with him, they're…

Malleus: They must be his retainers. It is said that they would obediently carry out his commands and go to great lengths to do so for him.

Deuce: Yeah… I always imagined the Underworld to be dark and scary, but these two look pretty nice.

Malleus: It will come back to bite you if you make assumptions based on appearances, Spade. Apparently, these two were skilled shapeshifters.

Malleus: There are tales of how they would use this skill in order to back any villainous adversaries into a corner.

Malleus: If they did not possess that raw competence, I'm certain that they would not have been depicted in these works of art.

Deuce: I bet the Lord of the Underworld would be proud to hear that tales of his subordinates are still passed down for generations.

Malleus: To have the tales of his subordinates passed down for generations… Yes, I could sympathize with that.

Malleus: Within the royal family of Briar Valley, there is a tradition that at a certain age we may select our own attendants and guards.

Malleus: I would also be very proud indeed if someone I personally selected were to be acknowledged by the masses, as well as future generations to come.

Deuce: Right? But man, when you talk about attendants and guards… It just feels like we live in two completely different worlds.

Deuce: It's pretty amazing that you always have someone who's looking out for you and your daily needs, though.

Malleus: It also can be a headache. Back in the castle, I would be surrounded by other people day in and day out, simply there to fix my attire or my hair and the like.

Malleus: When my acceptance to Night Raven College was ascertained, my life was unburdened tremendously.

Malleus: My guardian stated to me, "You'll have to learn how to take care of yourself enough that you can survive on your own," and so…

Malleus: I would read books from the outside world that were provided to me, and found the wealth of knowledge fascinating.

Malleus: Those books granted me an abundance of knowledge, such as how to go shopping, or how to work laundry machines and other electrical appliances.

Deuce: He learned how to use electrical appliances from reading a book…!? He really was raised in a completely different environment.

Deuce: But honestly, I really can't believe that you go shopping on your own, or do your own laundry… Today is full of surprises.

Malleus: …Well, Sebek does insist on tending to my needs. And there is much I do leave to him.

Deuce: Ahaha… Yeah, Sebek has boasted about stuff in the past, saying something like, "I had the honor of hand-washing Malleus-sama's clothing!"

Malleus: …I can absolutely picture that, despite the fact that I had been perfectly fine doing my own laundry before he started to attend this academy.

Malleus: Although, for some time after I arrived here, there was no end to the number of difficulties I had due to my inexperience.

Malleus: For example, there was this one instance when I knew not the location of the laundry room… and chose to hand-wash my garments in the kitchen sink instead.

Deuce: EH!?

Malleus: …My fellow dormmates who encountered that spectacle in the kitchen had the same reaction as you just now.

Malleus: I inquired as to where the laundry room was, but all froze as if petrification had been cast upon them…

Malleus: When it seemed they finally had returned to their senses, they insisted on allowing them to do my laundry.

Malleus: In that moment, I had been swept up in their persistence, but… It does me no good to leave it for others to do.

Malleus: Sometimes I do clean my clothes with magic as I oft did back home, but I do try to use the laundry machine when I can as well.

Malleus: There aren't many who use the laundry room in the early morning or late night.

Malleus: After some trial and error, I was able to figure out how to properly use the washer, as well as the dryer.

Deuce: Even though you could totally clean everything with magic in the blink of an eye… It's so cool to see how you're always working to improve even when no one's watching!

Malleus: Of course, as it should be. Seeing that I am a student at this school, I must also learn what I can from my peers.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Malleus: Oho, I see this museum also carries a variable assortment of paintings depicting merfolk legends as well.

Deuce: She has a real big smile… But hey, look at that wave behind her! Was the ocean waters that choppy…?

Malleus: This depicts the moment the mermaid princess made the determination to go to the surface.

Malleus: That large wave behind her represents her courageous decision… Or at least, it most likely represents that.

Deuce: Woah, that sounds like it could be…! Draconia-senpai, do you know a lot about paintings?

Malleus: I briefly touched upon it as part of my education.

Malleus: I would not say I do not hold an appreciation for art. Rather than paintings, however, I do prefer three-dimensional objects… sculptures, especially.

Deuce: When you say sculptures, you mean the ones made out of stone or bronze… right? I'm sorry, I really don't know anything about those stuff.

Malleus: You are more or less on the correct path.

Malleus: Take the statues of the Great Seven at our academy, for instance. Sometimes they are regarded as simply part of the backdrop on campus…

Malleus: But as years pass, both stone and bronze statues will gradually change in appearance.

Malleus: Caretakers will come and go, and the outdoor elements will constantly batter them… Their similarities to the original mold would change over time to no small extent.

Malleus: Some may perceive this as mere "deterioration," but…

Malleus: As for me, I believe that changes in those statues are in fact a profound thing.

Malleus: Whenever I encounter one that looks entirely different than what it originally should have looked, I cannot help but feel as though it has lived a good, long life.

Deuce: So basically, they're living pieces of art…?

Malleus: Heh. A wonderful interpretation, Spade.

Deuce: I don't really get how that was good, but that was him praising me just now, right? Uh, thank you!

Malleus: If you find yourself interested in sculptures, you should seek me out once more.

Malleus: I can explain to you at length not only about stone sculptures and bronze sculptures, but also gargoyles as well.

Deuce: Gargoyles…?

Malleus: Ah, so you aren't familiar with them. No matter. I'll start with explaining what they are…

Deuce: Uhhhh… Wait, uh, I was actually thinking about asking Rosehearts-ryōchō about the paintings with the Card Soldiers!

Deuce: Please, I hope you can wait for another opportunity to explain it all to me! I'll be leaving now, Draconia-senpai!

Malleus: He shouldn't run in the museum like so… I fear it is only a matter of time before the sound of Rosehearts' ireful shouts fill the halls.

Malleus: Really now, humans sure are always in a hurry. I think I'll take my time taking in the exhibits in the museum.

Malleus: Oh, what do we have here…? This is a painting of the princess who was blessed by the diurnal faes.

Malleus: What a lively birthday celebration. I wonder if I would have been invited to attend, had I lived in those times…

Malleus: …Hmph, they would do well to carefully think about who to invite to their celebrations. For if I were not invited to such a gala…

Malleus: I may have brought down upon them a cloud of destruction, darkening the sky and cursing them to the ends of the earth…

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #deuce spade #twst malleus #twst deuce #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: sebek #mention: riddle

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phoward89 · 7 months ago

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Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️: Coryo is his own warning in and of himself. Delusional!Coryo, Soft!Dark!Coryo, Soft!Dom!Coryo, Reader has some survival instincts, Reader knows keeping Coryo happy keeps her alive and well, cussing, possession, obsession, slight manipulation, smut, fingering- f receiving, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, marriage, Sejanus thinks both Coryo & Reader are Delulu

Chapter 6:

Private Snow and Private Plinth were on factory watch duty this afternoon. They're stuck on the loom floor of the Peacekeepers’ Uniform Factory, standing guard to make sure that none of the sweatshop workers takes an early break, skips off before the end of shift, or to prevent any ruckus from starting and spreading. They both hated factory watch duty, but right now Coriolanus loathed it because he was stuck overlooking that ratty whore who thought that she could just swoop on in, after abandoning you to die, and steal you away from him.

Ugh, Ashlie. How he hated her.

Stupid district whore.

And then Coriolanus couldn't help, but, to find it ironic that he only now got assigned watch duty in the uniform factory that you were once employed at (he takes care of you now so you're never working in this shithole again). That all the other times he was on watch duty with Sejanus they were always assigned to one of the fabric factories or fashion warehouses on the other side of the district.

Sejanus noticed how his best friend and brother in arms seemed to be extremely happy today. He's never seen the stoic blonde so overjoyed before; it was, quite frankly, concerning him.

But before Sejanus could ask why his best friend's in such a good mood, the platinum blonde turned to him with a smile so wide that it was a bit frightening. Coryo's voice, that was usually so elongated, seemed to be a light and airy baritone as he announced, “Sejanus, I need you to come home with me tomorrow night. Y/N and I’s getting married in the District 8 traditional style and need you to perform the ceremony.”

“What?” Sejanus blinked in disbelief. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Just to clear the air, he asked, “You and Y/N’s having a handfasting tomorrow night and want me to conduct it?”

“Is a handfasting what the marriage ceremony’s called here in 8?” Coriolanus asked instead of saying yes or no.

Clearly, the platinum blonde peacekeeper doesn't have a firm grip on life in the districts despite shacking up with a district girl. Oh boy, Sejanus doesn't want to deal with this right now. And isn't Coryo supposed to be the level headed one between them?

Oh, yea…

That's right, when it comes to pretty district girls and love, all logic goes out the window where Coriolanus is concerned. He makes brash decisions and thinks with his wrong head.

The teddy bear of a man, cursed to wear peacekeeper denim fatigues for the next 2 decades, nodded. “Yes, Coryo. That's what it's called.”

“Then yes, we're having a handfasting tomorrow night after work; I’ll be bringing you home with me to make sure it's legal.”

“Um…” Sejanus bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think of the right thing to say to his friend about his upcoming wedding. Something he thinks Coriolanus is going into too quickly and blindly. “Coryo, brother, I know you love your girl, but don't you think that maybe this handfasting’s a bit rushed?”

Coryo narrowed his icy eyes at his comrade, making them look like hardened steel. “No, I don't see how it's rushed, Sej.” Was the tall blonde's sharp reply.

“It's just, I dunno, Coryo-” Sejanus sighed, shaking his head. “Just that you two haven't really been together that long.”

“We live together, Sejanus. We've been together long enough to make that commitment; to get married too.”

If Sejanus only knew that Coriolanus' remark of long enough really meant since your whipping, well, he'd be stroking out and probably trying to get his bestie some mental help.

“Privates in the Peacekeepers aren't allowed to marry until their 20 years are up.” Sejanus pointed out as a last ditch effort to get his best friend to rethink or even cancel his handfasting.

Sejanus thinks Coryo's moving too fast with you. He's just trying to look out for his friend. Having a girlfriend’s one thing, but a wife's different. Divorce is outlawed and banned in the country of Panem; Coryo and you will be stuck together forever. Sej just doesn't want his friend to have regrets later on about a hasty marriage.

“Good thing I’m not staying Private Snow for long then, isn't it?” Coriolanus asked rhetorically, only to follow it up with a confident, “After taking that Elite Officer's Exam I estimate that I'll be shipped out for training right after the New Year.”

“You can still bring her with you, Officers can have their girlfriends with them.”

How dare that district Plinth dog tell him not to marry you? Who the hell does he think he is, telling Coryo to just keep living with you as his girl. Coryo promised to take care of you, to get you out of the districts, and above all he swore to marry you.

Coriolanus knows that he's a slithering snake tongued liar to people, but not to you. Your relationship is built on honesty, an integrity that he shares with you and only you. So, when he promises you something it's with the intention of fulfilling it. And he's going to fulfill his oath to marry you, no matter if he has to hogtie Sejanus and drag him home to your apartment to do it.

“I'm bringing her with me as my wife, Sej. So just shut up and come perform my district 8 ceremony tomorrow night.”

“Too bad we're not in 2. All you'd have to do is just exchange gold coins.” The broad Bones, dark haired peacekeeper half-chuckled.

Looks like he's stuck performing his best friend's handfasting tomorrow whether he wants to or not.

“So, you'll do it? Marry us?” Coryo asked, looking hopeful as the sound of looms being operated loudly sounded out in the air.

Against Sejanus' better judgement, he gave his friend a tentative smile and said, “Yes, Coryo, I'll do it.”

It was the least Sejanus could do. After all, Coryo stood by him during the 10th Hunger Games when he was doing some radical things that could've gotten him- them- killed. Coryo didn't agree with everything that Sej did, but he still stood by his side. They're best friends, brothers, and it's time for Sejanus to return the favor. He'll stand by the platinum peacekeeper’s side, as a brother should, even if he doesn't agree with him.

The food’s on the stove, done and waiting for Coryo to come home. You know that he's at the market, buying you some blue material to make your wedding dress with, so you're not concerned that he's not home at his usual time. Between work and the market, you imagine that his day’s a bit busy.

And you can always reheat the food real quick if it's cold when he does get home. You don't mind. You're just happy to have enough food in the house to be able to cook meals. Real meals, not some slop from stale oats or something.

You're grateful for Coryo and how he takes care of you despite the fact that he's the reason you still have at least a couple more weeks to heal from your whipping. At least a good thing came out of that bad, scary experience. You met Coryo and he, for some reason beyond your comprehension, decided to undertake your caretaking. He decided to make you his girl.

And tomorrow night he'll make you his wife.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open followed by heavy bootsteps entering the one-room apartment. You turn your attention from the book you're reading and onto the tall blonde that just walked thru the door. You smile, seeing that he has a paper bag in his hand.

You get up to greet him by the door as he closes it. “So, you got the blue material.” You state, not ask, as you reach his side.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded, handing you over the paper bag. “I also got us a long, thick red ribbon for the handfasting.” He added in, taking off his coat and hanging it up. “Sejanus says that the ceremony's called a handfasting-” Your fiance began, taking off his boots, only for you to interrupt him with a one word question.

“Red?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“It's my favorite color.” Coryo explained before gesturing to the bag and urging, “Open it, baby, and see what I got you for your dress.”

The platinum blonde wore a proud smile on his face as you obliged him. First, you took the red ribbon out of the bag. It was blood red.

Oh boy…

Still clutching the ribbon, you took out a few yards of folded up material. It was simple and made out of cotton, but the shade was beautiful. It was cerulean and it matches Coryo's icy eyes perfectly. It was literally the same shade of blue as his eyes. The material enchanted you in a way.

“Do you like it?” Coryo asked, placing a hand on your shoulder and tilting his head slightly.

He prayed that you liked it. Coryo felt that the other blue fabrics in the cheap market stall he went to were either too dark or drap for you. He wanted his wife to have the best. To have a beautiful blue fabric for her dress.

You only get married once; he thinks you deserve the best despite the ceremony being district.

Nodding, you weakly smile, “It matches your eyes.”

“Yea?” He lightly chuckles. Honestly, he didn't even notice that the material’s the same blue as his eyes. But now he knows it is; he assumes you like it too.

“Yea.” You confirm with a nod. “Putting the material and ribbon back into the bag, you give him a hug. “Thank you, I love it.” You smile into his chest.

All Coryo can do is wrap an arm around you and caress your hair softly with his long fingers. “I have my parents' wedding rings in my bag, would you mind exchanging them before our hand binding?” He asked, hopeful that you'd say yes.

Lifting your head up, your eyes met his cerulean blue ones, as you told him, “I'd be honored to wear your mother's ring, Coryo, but you're not an officer yet; you're not allowed to wear a ring.”

“I'll wear it around my chain with my dog tags til I pass my exam.”

“Okay.”

Threading his fingers into your hair, he sadly smiles, “I have a few family photos in my bag too. Perhaps we can put them up?”

“Of course, Coryo.” You smile, assuring him that you're fine with him decorating your meager one-room apartment with his family photos.

In fact you're more than fine with it. Him wanting to display his pictures of loved ones makes him human. Not just a mindless, Capitol born and bred peacekeeper that you're stuck with, but an actual human capable of feelings.

Capable of love, despite his condescending attitude at times.

You worked all day Thursday sewing a simple dress. You weren't a professional seamstress by any means, but you've been living in 8 long enough to pick up a thing or two. You could sew good enough to get by. You could also make simple patterns for simple dresses.

The only thing that was a pain in the ass was the fact that you had to sew your dress by hand. Thank the gods that Coryo had bought you light blue thread to match the material for your dress because the only blue thread you had in your sewing kit was navy.

Also, you noticed that your red thread was almost out, that it was wrapped thinly around the bobbin. You have an idea as to why it's nearly gone. You think that Coryo used it to stitch up the deep lacerations on your back.

He did tell you last night that red's his favorite color.

You spent practically all day huddled over your kitchen table, sewing your cerulean dress by hand. Since it was winter the sleeves were long and your skirt was knee length. It was a simple design, but when the dress was done you felt proud of it. You just hope that Coryo likes it.

You had enough scrap material left over to make a hairbow with. You decided that you're going to pull your hair back with a big, blue bow for your wedding. Yes, it's just going to be a very simple District 8 handfasting and reception dinner, but you still want to look pretty.

It's only natural. Every girl wants to look pretty on their wedding day.

So, after finishing both your dress and hair bow, you cook up a couple of dishes and bake an apple pie for dessert. You finished cooking with just enough time to get dressed before the groom and the best man arrive home.

You're standing in front of the family photos that Coryo set up on the bedside table last night. You can't help, but to think that he was a cute little boy with his curls as you stare at the family picture of him, his mom, and his dad. Coryo looks just like his father, General Crassus Snow, except that his father's eyes seemed cold and stern while Coryo's eyes were more mischievous. Or at least they were in your option.

His mother, Demeter, was very pretty. In the photo of Demeter holding a baby Coryo in a rose garden, you could see that he had inherited her smile. It was the only thing he inherited from her, looks wise. And in the picture his mother was wearing the orange scarf that he had given you. The scarf that matches your sweater perfectly.

There was a picture of his Grandma’am sitting regally amongst some roses and a picture of a young blonde girl that you knew had to be his cousin, Tigris. She definitely had the prominent Snow noses, but a tender softhearted smile.

After seeing a picture of Tigris, you're shocked that she lied to Coryo about something so important. You also feel bad for Grandma'am, she seems like such a high class lady and to lose everything and end up in hospice due to not having the will to love's horrible.

And on the table, in front of all the small framed photographs, was the wedding rings that belonged to Coryo's parents. One band was a simple gold one while the other was gold with a radiant square cut diamond. The diamond wasn't too big, but it wasn't too small either. It was just right and gave off a timeless, classic style.

“Baby, we're home.” You hear Coryo call out mixed with the sound of the door opening.

Sejanus followed his best friend into the apartment, secretly dreading having to marry you and Coryo. But he couldn't help, but smile whenever his friend gasped up on seeing you in your simple blue wedding dress and matching hair bow. It was clear to him that Coryo was in love just by how his face lit up at the sight of you.

“Darling, you look so beautiful.” Your soon to be husband declared while joining you by the bedside table.

“Thank you, honey.” You responded, feeling elated that he likes your outfit.

“Honey?” He asked, a brow raised in amusement.

“It just slipped out.” You sheepishly replied.

“It's fine; I'll let it slide, Mrs. Snow.” Coryo told you, his voice a slight bit husky, as he strokes your cheek softly with his calloused thumb.

Clearing his throat, because the sexual tension was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife and was making him feel uncomfortable, Sejanus asked, “Um, Coryo, do you want to start the ceremony?”

“Yea, just stand over there and we'll join you.” The platinum peacekeeper told his comrade, pointing to the spot he wanted him in.

Sejanus just nodded and went to stand where Coriolanus wanted him to. Coryo grabbed the rings and the red ribbon off the bedside table before escorting you over to Sej, the makeshift officiant for the wedding.

“We're going to exchange rings, like in the Capitol, then you can bind our hands.” Coryo told his dark haired friend while handing him over the ribbon for the hand binding.

Of course, Coriolanus Snow had to implement some kind of Capitol tradition in a district ceremony. Sejanus wouldn't expect anything less from his friend.

“Okay.” Nodded the aspiring medic with a heart of gold. Hey, what else was he supposed to do? If Coryo wanted to exchange rings then so be it.

Coryo handed you over his father's ring, now his, and kept his mother's ring, now yours. He just smiled and held the ring to your fingertip, causing you to do the same. Silently, you both slide the rings on each other's fingers before holding hands.

“I'm from District 2 and was raised in the Capitol for the past decade, so I'm not too well versed in handfasting.” Sejanus tells you while starting to wrap the long red ribbon around you and Coryo's entwined hands.

Looking over at Sejanus, you tell him, “I'm originally from 12, so all I know about this ceremony is what I've heard.”

“They do a toasting where she's from, but we don't have a fireplace so we had to settle with the handfasting.” Coryo added in, shrugging at his friend.

“Ah.” Sejanus slowly nodded as alarm bells went off in his head. Of course you're from 12. It seems like Coryo has a type and it's basically pretty girl from District 12. Now, he can't help, but worry that his platinum blonde friend is going full steam ahead with you so quickly because of your district of origin.

“You can exchange your words now.” Sejanus prompts, knowing that words are said in a handfasting once the ribbon is wrapped around the clasped hands of the couple.

“You first, Y/N.” Coryo smiles, only to quickly add in, “Women always say their vows first in the Capitol.”

Sejanus wanted to cringe. Coriolanus just has to bring up Capitol wedding traditions, again. For marrying a district girl he's really trying to incorporate as many Capitol things as he can. Or at least Sejanus thinks so.

It bothered Sejanus more than it did you. Coryo talking about Capitol wedding traditions. You didn't mind, he was from there after all.

“Okay.” You nodded before smiling and telling your husband a quote from the tragic Pre-Panem love story he's been reading to you- Wuthering Heights.

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

You're bound to him forever now, so you decided to tell him a book quote to express that.

Coryo’a grin spread wide across his face. He looked a bit manic, a result of your words. Oh, how hearing you say that your souls are the same just made his heart burst.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

You're his now and will be forever. You're not just his wife, but his most treasured possession now. Being your husband, knowing that you're at his complete mercy, makes him feel all powerful.

Sejanus can't help, but feel like you're as delusional as Coriolanus right now after hearing the Emily Bronte quote you recited. Oh, Sejanus has read the book it's from and he thinks there's nothing romantic about the main and tragic relationship. God, he hopes your relationship with Coryo isn’t marked by tragedy, obsession, and extreme codependency like the haunting relationship between Cathy and Heathcliff was.

Coryo’s icy blue eyes are looking into yours intensely as he recites the standard Capitol vows of, “I promise to love and support you, to take you under my protection; to provide for the children that I will gift upon you. I promise to love you; to spend the rest of my days with you.”

You couldn't help, but swoon at the Capitol vows. To you, they sound so romantic.

But to Sejanus they sound like honeyed words used to shackle couples that grow old together in either indifference or hate.

“Well, that's it then. Coryo, Y/N, you're now married.” Sejanus announced before quickly unwrapping the ribbon from your hands.

Once your hands are free, Coryo grabs your face gently in his large hands and presses a sweet kiss to your lips to seal the marriage bond, like they do in the Capitol.

It's official, you're Mr. And Mrs. Snow now.

After the ceremony, Sejanus ate dinner with you and your new husband. Coryo even arranged for Sejanus to take you Christmas shopping on Monday while he's occupied taking his Elite Officer's Examine, which he's positive that he'll pass. The conversation during dinner was nice. You like Sejanus and you're glad that Coryo has him as a friend. He's a nice guy, very down to earth and friendly.

After dinner, Sejanus said his goodbyes to you and Coryo and left. Traditionally, the folks of District 8 stay for hours after the handfasting ceremony, but you reckon that Sejanus left after the pie was served because he needed to head back to base. Unlike your husband, Private Plinth actually sleeps in his bunk at the barracks.

You had already put up the leftovers and you're washing the last dish whenever Coryo comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. His nose nuzzles your neck and he presses a kiss on the sweet spot below your ear. “I’m ready to fuck you, Mrs. Snow; make you mine in every sense of the word.”

“How’re we supposed to do that, Coryo? My back needs at least a couple more weeks to fully heal.” You ask, placing the dish onto the drying rack with the others.

“Snow lands on top.” He smirks into your neck. Turning you around after you unplugged the drain, he told you, “You'll have to ride my cock til your back’s healed.”

*Oh.” You squeaked, eyes slightly wide.

“Don't be nervous, baby. I'll guide you thru it.”

“Okay.” You simply nod, since you didn't really know what else to do.

You know that you're going to have to fuck him. It's a given now that you're married. You're honestly surprised that he didn't make you ride his cock earlier, before you even got married.

“I can always take you behind, doggy style too.” Your platinum blonde husband remarked, causing you to just nod.

Yea, there was that too. But then he'd be staring at your back. Your stitched up, scarred up back, during the do.

Yea…

You're not sure how you feel about that.

Caressing your cheek in his large calloused hand, he lightly smiled. “But I think for the first few times it'd be nice to look at each other's faces. Yea?”

“Yea.” You softly agree.

He presses a kiss full of heated want on your lips only to pull away and take your hand. “Come on, let's go to bed.” Coryo tells you while leading you over to your bed.

To the point of no return.

Coriolanus stops you right in front of the bed, only to cup your cheeks in his hands and bend his head down to kiss you with every fiber of his being. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in closer while syncing your lips with his; kissing him back with as much vigor as he's shown you.

Kissing Coryo was an experience in and of itself. His kisses could be chaste and innocent, but then they could be fiery and passionate: full of need and hot blooded desire.

The kisses you're sharing right now are the latter. They're passionate and fiery, full of an unquenchable desire. Coryo's mouth literally slots over yours, noses bumping together, as his tongue slips into your mouth with such urgency. An urgency that can only be attributed to desire and need. To passion and lust.

You let out a moan at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth. Your own tongue finds its way into his mouth, exotically dancing with his. Coryo's fingers entangle in your hair while his other hand holds your jaw in a vice grip. Your hands are clutching at the back of his neck, trying to anchor yourself as you continue to kiss him passionately.

Coryo pulls away, leaving you both breathless and panting. He leans his forehead against yours, only to whisper, “Is this real, Mrs. Y/N Snow? The way you feel about me? It's real for me and I-I was just wondering if it's real for you too.”

The vulnerability in his cerulean blue eyes took you aback. You've never seen him like this before. You're so used to Coryo being condescending and cunning, sweet, but in a reserved way.

You've never seen him vulnerable before. And that sight makes you realize that there's more to your husband than what meets the eye. That deep down, he's just an orphan boy that wants to be loved. And you understand that wholeheartedly since you're an orphan girl that wants the same thing.

To be loved.

Unwinding a hand from his neck and softly stroking his cheek with it, you tell him, “It's real for me too, husband.” Giving him a small smile, you carry on with, “We’re all each other's got, Coryo. And I'm grateful for you.” You notice that your words are having a calming effect on him, which is good. “I wouldn't have married you if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You assure him, bringing your other hand up to his cheek.

Honestly, you married him so that you'll have stability. So you'll be able to always have a roof over your head and food in your belly. Yes, you like him, but the marriage is so that you're not on your own struggling to get by.

Coryo's determined to take care of you; to make up for ratting you out and getting you whipped. He wants to get you out of 8; who are you to stop him?

You married him out of self preservation, but you honestly do like him. He's a very handsome man- unlike any you've ever met, and you enjoy his company. If he's delusional to think that you're in love then so be it. At least you'll be able to sleep in a warm bed with a full belly every night.

Your answer was exactly what Coriolanus needed to hear. His icy eyes light up and he kissed you once more with power and passion. A promise of things to come.

Coryo's sitting on the edge of the bed and you're straddling him. He's in nothing, but his white boxers, while you're naked. He's got a hand on your hip, balancing you, while the other's between your legs. Two of his fingers are shoved deep inside your cunt as he fucks you furiously with them. His thumb rubs quick, sloppy circles over your swollen clit, as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“You're close, baby. You're gonna cum soon.” He knowingly states, not asks, as he picks up his pace.

“Coryo…please…” You whine, feeling as if you're going to explode and see stars any minute by how hard, fast, and deep he's fingering you. Hell, you never knew that being fingered could feel like this. But yet again, his fingers are much longer than yours…

His fingers hit the spongy spot deep inside of you, over and over again, making your hips back against his as you chase your high.

“That's it, baby. That's it, ride my fingers. Good girl, just like that.” Coryo cooed praises into your ear as your head drops to his shoulder while you ride his fingers, chasing after your orgasm that you're oh so desperate to feel.

His hand on your hip helps guide you as you quickly roll your hips forward and back, riding his fingers, as little moans and mewls escape your lips. They're mostly muffled by his shoulder, since you're resting your head in it. But Coryo can still hear a few. The few noises you make that echo in the room mingle with the loud, lewd, wet squelching sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt.

Suddenly, your clawing at your husband's back and canting your hips quickly as your orgasm fastly approaches. “Coryo…I'm close.” You mutter out into his shoulder.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Be a good girl and cum right now, baby.” Coryo ordered, his voice hot and thick with lust, as he thumb pressed hard against your clit while he pounds your pussy relentlessly with his long fingers.

And you do. You cum hard around his fingers, moaning out his name like a prayer. Coryo helps guide your hips as you ride out your high on his fingers.

When your body goes slack, he pulls his hand out from between your legs. “Look, darling.” Coryo orders while spreading his fingers apart, causing your juices to create a web between them.

You feels your cheeks heat up as you look at your husband's hand, the one that had just been between your legs. You weren't aware that you let out that many juices when you came. Seeing them webbed and stringing against your husband's fingers…well…

And when your husband curled his fingers into a fist, so only his wet ones were standing upright, and smelled the two wet fingers- causing his eyes to flutter shut as he declared in a shaky exhale, “Your cunt smells so good, darling.”, You nearly died of arousal.

Oh boy, did that turn you for some ungodly reason.

And when he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking your juices clean off of them…oh yea…you felt yourself grow wetter. You felt your core ache for his cock.

Coryo pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop, only to help you off of him while saying, “I'm going to take off my boxers and lay down in the bed, okay?”

“Okay.” You simply nod, watching as your husband stands up and slides down his boxers.

You know he has a big cock by the large bulge that was in his boxers, but when you see his cock rise to full attention and slap up against his stomach, you can't help but to look at it in awe. It was long, at least 8 inches, and very girthy too. Damn, even his balls are big. Like everything on Coryo's big.

You guess what they say about y'all men with big hands, big feet, and big noses is true. Cause right now, you're looking at the living proof that the saying isn't a myth.

It's true. Very, very, true.

Tall men with big hands, feet, and noses are blessed with big cocks.

“Like what you see, Mrs. Snow?” Coryo asks with a cocky, lopsided grin as he closes the distance between you after kicking his boxers to the side once he stepped out of them.

“Yes, I suppose so, since it's the only cock I've ever seen.” You tell him, locking your eyes with his icy blue ones.

Taking your hand and bringing it to his cock, which has veins running along it with an angry red head that's leaking pearly drops of precum, he tells you, “You can touch me, you know.”

“Is there a certain way you like to be touched?” You wonder.

You don't know how experienced Coryo is and you really don't care. He's your husband now, so any and all experience he has is just going to make you feel good. But you lack experience. So, of course you want to know what your husband likes, it's only natural to ask.

The platinum blonde gives you a thin smile, one that's barely holding back how horny he is, and tells you, “Use your thumb to gather my precum and spread it around my cock before pumping it up and down. You can also swipe the slit on my head too.”

“Okay.” You nod before doing as you're told.

“There ya go, baby. That's it, you got it.” Coryo praised, lust blowing his pupils black, as he watched you slowly, but surely jack him off.

After a few minutes, Coriolanus’ breath began to hitch. He placed a hand on yours to stop you, all the while saying, “I think it's time I get in bed and you get on top of me.”

You just nod, watching as your husband fluffs the pillows and lays down comfortably on his back.

“Come here, baby.” He motioned with an outstretched hand.

You get into the bed and go over to him, straddling his hips. You're hovering over his hard cock, balancing yourself by resting your hands on Coryo's chest. One of his hands went to your hip while the other grabbed his cock, teasing you by rubbing his tip along your slit; bumping into your clit once or twice.

“You ready, darling?” Coryo asked, locking eyes with you.

“Yes.” You nod. After how good of a job he did warming you up, you'd be a fool not to be ready.

“Just sink down slowly; take your time til you bottom out.” He instructed, rubbing soothing and supportive circles in your hip bone.

Nodding, you listened to your husband and slowly sank down on his cock. You felt a burning sensation tearing you apart as his cockhead parted your petals and entered your virgin cunt. It wasn't painful per say, just uncomfortable. The burning sensation at the stretch his cock made to your tight walls had you biting your lip and letting out little whimpers.

“I know, baby. I know, it's a big stretch.” Coryo cooed, the corners of his mouth turned up. He took the hand that was on the base of his cock (feeling that you're doing a good enough job guiding yourself down on it that he doesn't need to hold it anymore) and cupped your cheek. “You're doing such a good job, baby.” Coryo softly ran the pad of his calloused thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Just a lil bit more and I'll be picking your cherry, my sweet girl.” Your husband assured you, his baritone honeyed and lustful.

You've heard that getting your cherry popped hurts like hell, or at least that's what the girls said at school. Hell, even your old friends Lil and Lucy Gray back on your old street in the Seam said it hurt like no other. So you're sure that it's going to be the worst pain in your life.

But your husband's assuring words, sweetly melodic but ardent, put you at ease. His simple action of soothingly stroking your cheekbone with his thumb eased your nerves; your fears as well. Who would've known that Coryo, a tall, imposing peacekeeper with a platinum buzz cut and mischievous baby blues could be so soft and gentle, so reassuring and understanding.

In that moment you, without a doubt, knew that you made the right choice in marrying Coryo. How many other young men would be patient enough with you to let you go at your own pace during your first time? Not many, or at least not the type of men that your old friends had would be patient.

You really hit the jackpot when you got with your peacekeeper. Yes, you know that the way ya'll got together wasn't ideal, but he's truly been nothing, but amazing since he brought you home badly whipped, bleeding profusely, and nearly unconscious with pain. Private Snow, soon to be Elite Officer Snow (if all goes according to plan and he passes his exams), might be a condescending asshole at times, but he's also a caring, loveable man at others. And right now he's a tenderhearted lover.

Your breath hitches as you feel Coriolanus' cockhead breach your barrier; breaking your hymen and taking your virginity. Your nails scratch at his chest and you bite your lip in reaction to the stinging sensation that you feel throbbing in your pussy.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Did I hurt you?” Your husband asks, looking up at you with genuine concern flashing in his icy eyes, as you bottom out on top of him.

“I'm not hurt, Coryo. It just stings a lil bit, that's all.” You honestly tell him, not wanting him to worry.

“You just just cockwarm me til you feel comfortable to move, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, a tiny smile stretching your lips.

“Come ‘ere, baby.” Coryo instructs, sliding his hand down your cheek and down to your neck only to guide your face down towards his. As your lips ghosts over each other's, he commands in a husky tone, “Kiss me while you sit on my cock.”

And who are you to turn down your husband's request when his plush lips look oh so kissable. You quite enjoy kissing him. It's a sensation that you'll never grow tired of.

Your hands slide up Coryo's toned chest, only to hold onto his shoulders for leverage, as your lips meet his in a kiss. A kiss that quickly turned passionate and sloppy. Your tongues danced exotically as your body grew accustomed to his large cock stretching out your walls and filling you up all the way to your womb. A breathy moan fell from your lips as your kiss broke apart, so the two of you could catch some air.

Coryo's lips we're mere inches from yours as he asked, “Think you're ready to start moving, my darling rose?”

“Yea,” You nod, “I'm ready.”

“Remember how you rode my fingers? Just do that, alright?”

“Alright.” You parroted before slowly and experimentally rising and falling down onto your husband's cock; causing him to let out a low moan of approval.

It didn't take long for you to find a comfortable rhythm. And before long, you're riding your husband with the desperate need to cum, arms wrapped around his neck as he's sitting up, sucking on one of your nipples while squeezing and grabbing at your tits with the need of a hungry, starving madman.

“Fuck! Coryo…” You loudly moan as his teeth scrape again your pebbled nipple, sending pleasure shooting straight to your core, before he lifts his head and attaches his kiss bruised lips to your neglected nipple. As his lips start sucking your other nipples, his thumb soothingly rubs over the one that he just bit, making your cunt grow even wetter.

“Oh gods, Coryo, I'm so close again.” You choke out on a high pitched moan, feeling his cock dive deep inside of your cunt and kiss your cervix as you bounce down particularly fast on him.

Your husband lets your nipple fall from his mouth with a loud, wet pop and he stops feeling up your boobs. One of his hands grabs your ass while the other goes slightly behind him, resting on the bed to give him leverage, as he sits up a bit straighter. Bending his knees slightly so that his feet are flat on the bed, he orders you to, “Hold onto my neck and wrap your legs around my waist. I'm gonna finish us off.”

“Okay.” You smile before doing as your told.

Not a second later, Coryo's fingers are digging into your ass cheek while his hips are wildly bucking up; causing his cock to piston deep inside of you. So deep that you're seeing stars.

“Coryo…I think I'm gonna cum.” You tell him, lips hovering close to his, as you feel the knot in your lower belly about to come undone.

“I'm gonna cum right after ya, baby.” He groaned, snapping his hips even faster. “Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my seed; knock you up tonight, babygirl.” Coryo grunted thru clenched teeth as his cock pounded your tight pussy with wild abandon. "I swear, you're gonna look so beautiful all round with my child."

Were you ready to be a mom? Who knows, who cares. You'll deal with it when the time comes. All you know is that your husband's fucking you so good and you're about to cum on his gigantic cock any second now.

“Coryo…” You mewl while your cunt flutters around his cock. The dam of pleasure’s about to burst and all you can think about is how badly you want to kiss your husband.

So…

You unwrap one of your hands from around his neck and grab a hold of the chain around his neck. The one that his dog tags are one. The same dog tags that are bouncing back and forth between both of your chests. Using the chain, you pull him a few inches towards you until your lips meet his for a kiss. A kiss that's desperate. An open mouth kiss that's filthy and full of both tongue and spit swapping as you cum hard around his cock.

Coryo's icy eyes literally roll into the back of his head as he feels your tight cunt spasm around his cock and soak his cock and thigh as you cum. Fuck, you're a squirter and that turns him on. It turns him on so much that the next time he bucks up he's shooting his load of hot, thick ropes up cum deep up into your womb.

He continues to slowly rock his hips up and down to ride out your highs. Your lips are no longer engaged in a dirty open mouthed kiss. Instead, your foreheads are resting on each other as you just get lost gazing into each other's eyes- looking into the windows of each other's souls.

Souls that are truly so similar considering you both are orphans with a self preservation streak.

After a little while, he stops moving and lays flat down on his back. He adjusts your legs so that you can comfortably lay down on him. He even places the blanket on top of you two so that you'll be warm.

“Shouldn't I get off of you?” You ask, referring to his cock still being stuffed inside of your cunt.

“No.” Coryo shakes his head against his pillow. “Don’t worry about it, babe. My cock’ll slip out once it softens.” He assures you with a satisfied smirk while tucking a strand of sweaty hair behind your ear. “You were amazing, Mrs. Y/N Snow.”

“Thank you, Elite Officer Snow. I have an amazing husband for a teacher.” You playfully smile back, tracing patterns on his toned chest.

“Remind me to thank that amazing husband of yours for teaching you how to ride cock like a pro.” Coryo teasingly chuckled, earning him a playful smack in the arm from you.

Then, you decided to bring up a serious topic. One that was tied to some dirty talk your husband said while fucking.

Looking up at him with big, curious eyes, you seriously ask, “Coryo, do you really want kids?”

“Yes, Y/N, I really want to have kids with you.” Your husband answered, only to follow it up with a question of his own. “Don't you want them, my darling rose.”

“I never really thought about it, but one day I'd like to be a mom.”

“Babies come when they come, darling.” Your platinum peacekeeper tell you so casually that it's as.of he's telling you the weather forecast.

“I know.” You simply tell him. Then, worry crosses your features as you seriously ask, “Since they'd be born in the districts would they be eligible for the game's lottery?”

“No.” Coryo's quick to assure you with a shake of his head. His large hand comforts you by soothingly rubbing your arm up and down. “Officer’s children are born on a Capitol run base in the hospital and live on base or base approved housing. They're registered as Capitol citizens at birth; they're parents no matter their origin of birth are considered Capitol as well.”

You let out a loud, incredulous laugh, only to tell your husband, “So I fucking stood in line 7-fucking-years for the reaping when I didn't have to all because my brother refused to hand over my papers when it was time for game registration.”

“What?” Coryo asked, his voice full of confusion, as he stared at you slack jawed.

“Close your mouth, honey. You'll catch flies with it open like that.” You tease Coryo, snapping his jaw shit with your fingers. Knowing you have to tell him the truth, the very same truth you learned right after your brother died, you sighed and explained, “After my brother died we went thru everything in the house to see what we wanted to keep, sell, and give away. Hidden in the end table by his sitting chair was an old picture of my parents and my birth certificate.”

You had to pause to collect yourself. You never planned on revealing this, but it seems like gate has other plans. Coryo just looked at you with support flashing in his eyes while gently squeezing your hand. He wasn't dumb, he was putting the pieces together fairly quickly. But he wanted to hear you say what he's thinking, to make sure that it's right.

When you feel ready to continue, you tell your husband, “I discovered that I was born on PK Base D-12 to a Colonel Javanis Halvir and a Helenium Halvir.” Shaking your head, you bitterly spat out, “I even have a Capitol name too; it's actually a longer version of the name my brother grew up calling me.”

“So you're half Capitolite then or were both your parents-” Coryo began to ask only for you to abruptly cut him off with, “Half. My father was a Capitolite and my mother was from District 12; Rein was my half-brother from her first marriage, but my dad must've adopted him since he used the Halvir name.”

“Do you want me to write the Capitol about this? I know some people that could look into your family, see if perhaps you have an inheritance tied up in probate or any relatives still alive?”

“You don't have to do that, Coryo.” You softly decline. Honestly, you never considered finding your long lost family. Plus it's not like they were looking for you either.

But Coryo wanted to inquire about your family, that Halvirs. If they had money or if you had an inheritance then as your husband he's legally bound to be the recipient of it. And Lord knows how much Coriolanus Snow craves money, power, and glory. How he wants to get back to the Capitol, with you and any children you have in tow, to become the youngest president in Panem's history.

But he can't tell you that, now can he?

No…

So, instead he tells you, “Y/N, baby, you're my wife and I love you. Let me use my Capitol contacts to help you find your family.” Giving you a slight pout and a pair of big cerulean blue puppy dog eyes, he adds in the magic word of, “Please.”

How can you say no to that? You can't. So, you tell him okay.

Coriolanus is overjoyed, but he doesn't let it show. Instead his baritone is calm and collective as he tells you that it's time to go to sleep. As you yawn and settle down on his chest, visions of a newfound rich family or a large inheritance sum are dancing around in his head, much like sugarplums dance around in children's heads on Christmas Eve.

194 notes · View notes

galazry · 1 year ago

Text

Finally... a glance...

pairing: best friend!scaramouche x gn!reader genre: modern au; friends to lovers; unfortunately, this is not angst; semi-crack? tbh i threw away all my logic while writing this. content: he finally confessed his feelings... at the worst possible way. before you could even answer, scaramouche had already run away. now you're left alone to wonder... how much of an idiot are you? cw: you get to learn how stupid both scaramouche and the reader are, also kazuha is here and is so tired with how his friends are acting. word count: 2K (I had a bit too much fun while writing this haha...) a/n: sequel to "Look at Me!". tbh i was planning to make a sequel that leads to an angsty ending. Don't worry, I'm not bamboozeling you guys this time 🫶 ALSO I'M SORRY THIS TOOK A LONG TIME I WAS SO BUSY 😭😭😭

It's been a week since Scaramouche confessed his feelings for you. Your aloof best friend for 5 years confessed that he had been harboring affection for you for the longest time. To be honest, you were quite baffled once those words poured out of his lips. Never had a single thought of him being infatuated with you crossed your mind. Hell, you even thought that if you were the last person on earth, he wouldn't even catch any feelings for you.

Oh, how you were proven wrong.

It's been too long since you've seen his figure. Seven days too long. None of the messages you've sent had been read, nor did he pick up any of your calls. His classmates knew nothing of his whereabouts, nor did he attend any of his classes. You even tried to go over to his apartment as you were sure he would be in there, but your knocks were met with silence.

The rest of your friends and classmates noticed how the usually lively atmosphere around you had gone gloomy. Currently, you were in the cafeteria, twiddling with your spoon, food untouched. You didn't really have an appetite as a heavy sigh left your lips. A week had pass and you were still trying to process everything that he had said; how Scaramouche had done everything to gain your attention, but all his efforts didn't bear fruit. You thought that all the things he had done were normal since you both had been best friends for a long time. Maybe it was why you didn't suspect him harboring feelings for you–

"Hey, [Y/N]. May I sit here?"

You begrudgingly lifted your head to the source of the familiar sound that had interrupted your thoughts. Kazuha. You nodded and your friend sat across from you.

"You seemed down in the dumps lately. Not only that, Scaramouche is nowhere to be found. Did you both had an argument of the sort?"

Leave it to Kazuha to sense the change in the atmosphere around you. You let out a sigh as you kept poking at your food. Not wanting to tell him the full truth, you only answered him briefly.

"No... No, we didn't."

"Ah, I see.”

You both continue to eat your food in silence – well, specifically, it was Kazuha who was eating his food, while you kept twiddling with your utensils. After a bit, you decided to break the silence. After all, this was Kazuha, one of your closer friends who, more you would sometimes confide in. Not as much as you did with Scaramouche, though.

“Actually… I guess we kind of did…? Scara kind of…” You take a deep breath, before muttering, “confessed to me…”

“Oh? Congrats to you both then. He finally had the courage to confess to you after harboring his feelings for you for so long. I don't see the reasoning for you to be so down in the dumps.”

Kazuha smiled, as if the words you said wasn’t a surprise to him. You, however, had your eyes as wide as saucers with the reaction he had given you. How did the platinum-blonde knew that Scaramouche liked you? The look on your face tells him that he was missing a big chunk of the story. Putting down his spoon, he leaned closer towards you and asked, “[Y/N], you did accept his feelings… right? This is what you have always wanted, no?” You slowly glanced away, not wanting to answer his question. Suddenly, to you, the trees outside looked that much more interesting as it swayed with the wind.

“[Y/N].”

“Look, I was shocked, alright?! The fact that the feeling was mutual was a complete shocker to me! And before I could process everything and answered him, he bolted right off!" You groaned, finally starting to spill the beans towards your friend, who suddenly felt his shoulders getting heavy.

“Oh dear…” Kazuha sighed as everything finally clicked into place. Even without you telling him the full details, he could already guess what had transpired between the two of you. He had always thought you both were a pair match in heaven and the event that had transpire prior really sealed said fact.

“This is why I told you to stop discussing your so-called ‘crushes’ in front of him.”

“Well…” After telling him the full story of what had happened that day, your friend could only let out a long and tired sigh as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt—the way you kept talking about the people, he knows you don’t have crush on in front of Scaramouche, and the way the indigo-haired confessed to you—he could only form a rueful frown on his face. “You know I’m stupid with these kinds of things and I thought if… you know…”

Kazuha knows. He knows how you thought that if you discuss your so-called 'crushes' with Scaramouche, you could discern if he has feelings for you as well. In addition to that, you also thought by making him jealous enough, your best friend would confess to you — which he did, though it didn't really end like how you wanted it.

"[Y/N]... Why couldn't you just be straightforward and confess your feelings for him...?"

"And look like a fool and possibly ruin our 5 years of friendship if the feeling wasn't mutual?!"

Kazuha massages his forehead as he remembers the conversation he had with Scaramouche weeks prior before the incident. He too had asked the indigo-haired why he didn't went up and be straightforward with his feelings. Scaramouche was, after all, infamous for speaking what's on his mind. In spite of that, Kazuha got the same answer like the one you gave him...

"There's no way I'm ruining my friendship with [Y/N] if the feeling wasn't mutual! Only an idiot would do that!"

To concur, you both really were a match in heaven— being total idiots oblivious to each others feelings and poor Kazuha was stuck in the middle. With a sigh, ruby orbs looked at you.

"So... What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know... Scara wouldn't even open the door for me-"

You stopped mid-sentence and stared at Kazuha. Before he could get a word out, you leaned towards him with a glint he knows so well. This can't be good...

"Kazuha... Your apartment is next to Scara's... right?"

A week.

A week long he had taken absence from attensing any of his classes. Scaramouche felt like his world crashed into him the minute he ran away from you. That wasn't how he wanted the confesion for you to go... There should have been flowers, or homemade cookies, anything.

The indigo-haired layed on his unmade head, constantly and silently cursing himself for his cowardly actions. He was about to mope some more when he heard a faint knock. At first, he ignored it, thinking that it was either you or Kazuha. Although, the knocks grew louder and louder, and even more desperate that, with a sigh, he got out of bed and walked towards the door.

Peering through the peephole he saw no one, yet the knocks kept coming. There was even a voice that kept calling out his name where was—

Indigo orbs dilated when they say your figure, on his balcony, pounding on the glass door, calling out his name. Without missing a beat, he immediately pulled you into his apartment. "Are you crazy?! How did you get into my balcony?!"

"From Kazuha's balcon-"

"FROM KAZUHA'S BALCONY?!?!"

He didn't gave you any time to reply as he began to check for any bruises or injury you may have suffered as you did your irresponsible stunt. All the while, he kept running his mouth, saying how you could have gotten hurt, and that he would have a talk with Kazuha for letting you do said stunt. Once he was sure that you did not suffer any injury, his hand immediately pinched your cheek. "[Y/N] [L/N]... What gave you the right idea to jump from his balcony to mine, hm?" Scaramouche asked with a smile, effectively sending chills down your spine. With a gulp, you answered him with as much confidence as you could muster.

"You kept avoiding me. My text, my calls, my knocks. Every time I try so hard to reach out to you, you constantly block out my efforts. So I had to do what I had to do. Even if the risk was great, as long as I get to talk to you that's all that matters." It was his turn to advert your gaze. Dropping his hands from your cheek, he then rubbed the back of his neck. Was it from shame? Or was the fear of you rejecting him now back to gnaw at his heart? The indigo-haired didn't know.

"Look, I know what you're going to say; That you have no feelings for me, I get it. No need for this whole stunt just to reject me," He let out a sigh, still holding onto the illusion that you never once hold any feelings for him. It was now your turn to prove him wrong, and to apologize for the misunderstanding that almost rift your friendship and potential relationship apart.

His eyes went as wide as saucers when your lips brushed against his. Soft. That was the only think he could think off once you pull away, the smile he had always adored and cherish now on your face. "I have feelings for you too, Scara." Suddenly, the dullness of the world around him became vibrant and colourful. The fluttering of the butterflies in his stomach could definitely cause a storm. This must be a dream, there's no way, in his mind, that this was all real. Or maybe it was some sort of cruel joke the heavens is playing on him.

Seeing the confusion reflected in his eyes, you explained to your best friend — how you actually had fallen head over heels for him; how you faked all your crushes to instigate a reaction from him; how you wonder if his aloofness was a sign that your feelings weren't reciprocated, but never did you once gave up. You wrapped everything up with an apology, that you could have done things better, and that you were ready to face a rejection from him. "After all," your hand cups his cheek, caressing it gently with your thumb, "this whole thing started because I wanted to make sure that you did have feelings for me. So, if your feelings for me have faded away, I would understa-"

"Idiot." He intercepts you mid-sentence, pulling you in for a hug. "You're stupid... Can't believe that you are a total idiot... Maybe this is the reason why you could never beat my scores... Always taking the most difficult and strangest route of them all." You were about to complain and ask about the correlation about academic scores and your current situation. However, the rare smile on his face as he looked at you as if you're his entire world completely shuts you up.

"But... I guess you're my idiot now, huh?"

You finally finished telling the story of how both you and Scaramouche started dating. The children, that you both were babysitting, had happy smiles on their face as your lover groans in embarrassment at the story. To the man, it was a cringey story, yet he never did once try to stop you from telling the kids about how your relationship with him started. He loved seeing the smile on your face, and if he had to endure hearing the same story over and over again, so be it.

Scaramouche wouldn't admit that he too, at that time, had been an idiot, for causing such a scene. Well, in the end, you both still got together and that's all that matters. Not to mention, you both have a fun story to tell to everyone as an added bonus.

Once the children's parents picked them all up, you both then snuggled on the couch. A soft humming filled the room as you gave Scaramouche a quick peck. "Hey," you started off and he immediately knows where this conversation is going. "One day, love. Right now, I want to savour these quiet and tranquil moments with you before this home of ours becomes lively and we have little spawns running around." He let out a small chuckle, holding your hand as his thumb traced the ring on your finger.

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