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sleep-0-deprived · 3 days ago

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Hello Dimitri!

I really love your works - especially your yandere oc's and jjk content!- I was wondering if I can put in a request for a poly yandere of Geto and Gojo with a bottom male reader? I want to know how this relationship works when they were in their teens and now that their adults (Geto still choose to be a cult leader, also he does not die. My poor heart cannot handle the heartbreak of Geto dying and leaving Gojo and reader behind ). You can make it sfw or nsfw which either one you like! :)

Ps. Sorry for the long request, it is my first time requesting (0///0)

Two psychos is better than one right?~! (Yandere Geto suguru x male reader x yandere Satoru Gojo) ❀˖°

WC:. 5.7k

Tags: fluff-smut, threesome, spit roasting, poly satosugu, trio friendship, friends to enemies to lovers blowjobs, p in a sex, male on male oral, handjobs, ass eating, anal creampies, Yandere themes, dark content x male reader, dub con, non con, manipulation, drugging, Gojo just gaslighting reader

About: satoru and suguru become friends with male reader ending up in an obsession leading to Geto leaving, even after you split ways with him, he stays watching you from afar despite their separate paths they stay holding their obsession leading to trapping you.

A/N: this is a bit of a longer fic compared to others I’ve I’ve wrote, I put all my effort into this one! After some long writers block I’ve made it back around into writing again <33

Before the Riko incident you became a transfer at jujutsu high, you weren’t really strong nor weak, you were the prime balance of an average guy who just wanted to be in the middle- as long as you helped others then that was fine by you, being well known seemed overrated anyway.

You never thought you’d get between the infamous duo, they were tight knit after all, they were all any jujustu student aspired to be and after all you were just a boy looking to make it through the academy without any complications

If you would’ve known the outcome of transferring to this school you would’ve stayed far away, how did you even enter their lives? You were put on their team as a balance, you were put there to be guided and who was better to guid you than you once upper class men Satoru?

You were put on their missions, it started simple, the three of you going against curses together but you noticed very quickly that your friendship meant more to them than what met the eye. The friendship you thought of as normal or even just knowing them out of same interests turned dark far to fast.

What stool out at you the most was during a mission when you were saving a civilian from a low level curse, after a hour the fight was over and you were clean from any wounds, the man just ran up to you muffling his words between tears grabbing your hands.

“thank you—I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t show up!”

The man hugged you and the next thing you knew you tilted your head and suguru was already pulling him off of you pushing the man away harshly throwing him to a wall of a near by store.

“What do you think you’re doing suguru?!”

You quickly ran forward to him pulling him away from the civilian leaving the man running off terrified, your hands reaching up to his uniform shaking him back and forth while yelling at him. All Geto seems to do is stare blankly like he didn’t care what you did in the slightest.

“He touched you [name], nobody should get up close and personal, unless it’s me or Satoru”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You two aren’t my damn keepers, we are friends Suguru- just friends!”

You look at him offended with your lips pressing in a thin line shoving him back and letting him go, walking off pushing past a confused Gojo leaving him tilting his head looking back at Geto with a ‘what did you do?’ Face.

The next few days to pass you avoided Geto like the plague, only being around Gojo when he wasn’t near Suguru.

Sitting in a café during the weekend with Gojo lifting your drink, the feeling was off and you weren’t the biggest fan of how Gojo kept staring over at you but your dad was pushing you to be more like other boys your age, that’s how you ended up calling Gojo on the water day morning after the incident with Geto.

“You don’t have to avoid him Y’know [name]?”

Gojo breaks the silent looking at you with his eyes rolled forwards under his glasses watching your every move when you take a bite of whatever pastries you made him buy you.

“He’s just so damn possesive Toru- it’s like he thinks I’m his property..it’s just weird”

Gojo just gives a shrug, of course he would. Always sticking up and vouching for Geto like he was some sort of fan boy. What did you really expect? Gojo knew Geto before you, they had an uncanny close relationship and knowing all you know now looking back on it that’s the reason Suguru didn’t mind sharing you with Satoru.

“I think you’re overreacting, he was probably just worried about you, I’m sure he did in in good intentions”

“Yeah, whatever you say Toru”

You shove down a few more bites while Gojo takes a sip of his tea, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched but you always feel that way. Gojo kept trying to bring the topic back to Geto, trying to persuade you two to make up and apologize but you were just creeped out with his actions.

“Come on? He’s our friend [name] you don’t wanna be the one to put a wedge in our trio right?”

Gojo did his best to speak sweetly to you. Trying to convince you, and if that didn’t work then he’d just whine and make you feel bad til you felt like you just had to forgive Suguru. You didn’t wanna be the reason your friend ship fell apart with them right?…

The next day was a Sunday and Gojo had practically done everything but force you to meet up with Geto. Gojo had used the fact he and Geto were on a mission looking after a girl as the perfect opportunity to finally get you three together.

You hear your phone ringing whilst you lay sprawled out in bed, it’s a Sunday morning after all, it’s the last day of your week to sleep in until next weekend.

“Hello Toru..why’re you calling me so early?..”

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come and hangout at the beach today? Me and Geto are gonna be watching after this girl for our mission and I really-really want you there [nicknaamee]”

You just let out a small sigh and groggily open your eyes up begrudgingly mumbling back out to Satoru when you hear his whiny voice on the other end of the phone pleading and going high pitch on the nickname he gave you”

“Fine I’ll come but don’t let him act creepy Toru”

After that day at the beach things fell right back in line, you and Suguru had made up, and Gojo was happy, after all his best friends had made up.

Then it went and happened, some assassin had killed who they were protecting- or so Satoru told you. You weren’t there the day it had happened, you were on another mission with your upperclassman Nanami. Suguru wasn’t the same after that point, he hardly talked to you or Gojo- he would just silently space out staring at you.

Then summer hit and when he had came back he wasn’t the same at all, he was cold and distant and snapped at you over the slightest things. If you spent more time with Satoru than him then he’d give you the cold shoulder until you apologized despite your lack of knowing what you did wrong.

“I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this Suguru?”

You walked along side Gojo after school one day following after Geto, your eyes were wide and your lips pressed firm.

“Hey! Where are you goin?!”

Gojo ran faster than you walking forward more when Suguru stops and turns facing Gojo, their argument starts leaving you chiming in every few seconds standing next to Satoru, by the end of their fight Suguru just turns forward to walk away.

“Suguru wait! What the hell are you doing?”

You stand in utter disbelief for what was happening right in front of you— this couldn’t be happening? Your friendship was splitting up right before you and suguru, the boy that was eerily close around you was leaving you now.

You didn’t think you were going to be that affected over the loss but it left you confused on how you felt.

The days following that incident the team had drifted apart but you and Gojo had a newfound closeness but you couldn’t shake the feeling of always being watched, it felt like all eyes were on you even when you were walking through your dorm, that must just be the paranoia that comes with being a jujustu sorcerer right?

By the time you had graduated from Jujustu high, Gojo was already number one, you were happy for him of course as any friend would be. Eventually by the ripe age of twenty you take up a teaching job at jujustu high after a long time of Satoru pestering you to take the job with him.

“If I take the job will you just shut up Toru?”

“Of course I will! I promise [nickname]”

You eventually get tasked over the same team as Gojo, which you found strange. Not that Gojo didn’t totally pull strings to make them place you two together. The teams you were mentoring were names Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi, the boy that Gojo had been watching after ever since he fought with his father- you think he’s the son of that assassin that killed Riko.

The Jujustu world became hectic, not that it was new but it became crazier than usual especially after finding out that Yuji boy had ate one of the king of curses fingers— how was he even alive after that?

Over the years of being a Jujustu sorcerer you had seen and dealt with many things and you couldn’t deny you never thought you’d see Suguru again, not after what he did to his parents- you had just assumed he was gone for good. For some odd reason Gojo never seemed too concerned it felt as though he knew something you never did.

You remember earlier in the day hearing Satoru asking you to take the subway with him later after classes had ended, something about this new place he wanted to take you too and knowing Gojo and his Expensive tastes you had just expected another luxury restaurant so imagine the confusion on your face when you see a old Japanese style parlor.

You walk right in behind Gojo, following confused seeing the dark colored interior and dim lights, non sorcerers walking out of the place wearing matching robes.

“What is this place Toru?”

“It’s just a parlor ran by an old friend”

The way he hummed those words with a smirk made you feel uneasy, this place felt cultic, the purple walls and candles lit around the halls leading towards a pair of Japanese styled double doors, Satoru opens them ushering you inside. Your senses feel different in this room, it smells sweet and all you can do is feel fuzzy inside, were you being laced?

When you come to again you open your eyes half way seeing two figures hovering above you. Softness is all you can seem to feel right now, you’re laying on something soft, maybe a pillow? It’s fluffy and all you wanna do is close your eyes and succumb again, your body is weak and you only muster up enough strength to open your eyes when you feel a hand undoing your pants.

Your eyes roll around a little in their sockets before focusing in on the two figures, they look like yin and yang- one has white hair, it’s Gojo…is that—

“Suguru?”

His name sounds pathetic when you slur your words looking up at him letting out a little whine seeing his robes, where has he been and why was he dressed like a messiah. What was happening? All those thoughts are postponed when you feel hands pulling your cock out of your boxers.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you [name], god you know how hard it is to not be able to touch you? To not hear my name from your mouth? It’s torture sweetheart”

“Awe suguru! You told me the cameras I put in his apartment were close enough?”

Satoru and Geto conversation while kneeling before your body, one of them on either side of you with Suguru’s hand on your cock playing with the soft flesh and teasing it. Your body felt too many things to let your mind properly think.

“You’re alive?”

Those words come out shakily with your body shuddering feeling the warm palm of his hand under the base of your cock pulling a few strokes while Satoru leans down more sliding your shirt up your body, lifting your arms up and discarding it while you lay on your back in the parlor. Your eyes seeing candles lit around the room next to a picture of Geto— this was a cult.

“Of course I’m alive? Why wouldn’t i be [name]?…you know me and Satoru will never leave you”

“Look at him Suguru, he’s so loopy, I told you that gas was too strong~”

Your cock pulses in his hand with your nipples erect from the cool air, your body heating up and your cock starting to leak precum.

“What’re you two doing?”

The words fall weakly while you lay on the pillows with your eyes circling in on Geto the whole time he touches your cock, your eyes rolling over to Gojo when he coos words to you talking you through it while your hands tremble pulling at the pillows.

“What we’ve wanted to do since day one [name]”

Suguru hums, leaning in more stroking your cock a little faster and moving his way between your thighs before craning his neck backwards whispering out something to Gojo. Gojo groans and pouts, taking his hands off your body and getting up walking off and out of the room leaving you and Suguru alone.

When Gojo comes back he’s holding a bottle of strawberry flavored Lube, Geto let’s go of your now hard cock and turns you over on your stomach, Gojo tossing Suguru the lube while he squirts the lube all up and down your crack, sitting the lube aside and squishing your cheeks together over and over making the lube smear around in between your cheeks.

“All I can think about is how you’ll taste, I hope Satoru don’t get mad I eat you up first”

Geto leans down kissing your arch and holding your hips sliding them down to your ass cheeks and slowly pulling them apart while grinning up at Gojo, watching the white haired man undoing his slacks and pulling out his cock, Gojo slaps his tip to your lips still soft.

“Toru please-“

“C’mon, suck it hard f’me?”

Before you can respond Geto has his faced buried between your cheeks eating you out like your his last meal, his tongue sliding up and down your crack and back down to your rim.

When your lips part to gasp, Gojo takes that as his chance to shove his cock down your throat making your lips wrap around him gagging and tearing up laying on your stomach with Satoru’s hand reaching down to grab a handful of your locks making you tilt your head back and look up at him.

“How’s it taste [name]?”

You can’t seem to muster a word, feeling Geto’s tongue going flat against your rim and pressing its way inside you while he reaches one hand under you to grab back ahold of your cock, Suguru starts stroking you in time with his tongue while aiming your cock down towards the pillows in jerking motions like he was milking you.

Gojo and Geto share gleaming looks, they were on cloud nine finally getting the intimacy from you they had longed after for years. Gojo thrusts his hips forward slowly making your cheeks bulge with every motion, his cock now fully hardened in your mouth hitting the back of your throat making vibrations around his base when you wail out.

“Poor baby is all delirious isn’t he Satoru?”

Geto smile against your flesh, pressing sloppy wet kisses to your rim rolling his own eyes back at the taste of strawberry and you on his tongue leaving a satisfaction in his stomach with his cock hard under his robes being pressed to his hip.

Gojo keeps stroking your hair before starting to lift your head by your hair and bob your mouth up and down on his cock making you deep throat him to the point your face was buried in his white pubes.

“Sugu—tworu ple~”

Your words come out choppy around his cock. You speak with your mouth full feeling your throat hurting and the hot tears in your eyes streaming down your cheeks being used by the two men unable to put up a fight due to the drugs in your system keeping you weak between the men.

The feeling of Geto’s tongue swirling around your insides makes your head go fuzzy again, you just wanna close your eyes but you can’t because yours are locked on Gojo’s bright blue ones, have they always been as blue as they are now? The look of pleasure on his faces makes knots build in your stomach knowing you’re the cause for his half closed eyes.

“Oh you’re so close aren’t you? Don’t even gotta answer I can tell [name]”

Geto can tell by the way your rim greedily puckers around his tongue and the amounts of precum oozing from your tip that you’re on the verge of your orgasm. His hand keeps working you between your thighs leaving your legs trembling laying on your stomach when a wave of heat floods your whole body making you moan around Gojo’s cock.

Your tip starts to swell angrily under Geto’s thumb, when his tongue laps your prostate it pushes you past your breaking point making you lose it, cumming all over the pillows, staining the purple fabrics with an off white stain making Gojo look down at you with his signature smirk.

“Mhmf— he’s a fuckin squirter Satoru”

“Suguru you should just feel how he’s gagging on me right now-“

They talk about you like you aren’t there, using you for their own pleasures you feel Geto pulling his face from your cheeks with one last lick pulling his tongue out of you leaving your s/c ass all sticky from a mix of spit and lube.

Geto starts lifting up his robes pulling them up over his head throwing them to the side with a smile, wearing black boxer briefs with a prominent bulge inside them with a dark patch of black hair trailing down his abdomen giving Satoru little to the imagination.

Suguru slides his fingers under his boxer waist band pulling them down his thighs allowing his cock to spring forward and press to his stomach.

“I would ask if you’re ready [name] but you probably shouldn’t speak with your mouth full~”

His voice is cold and mocking not giving a damn about Satoru face fucking you like a fleshlight. Suguru pulls your slick cheeks apart again thrusting his cock up and down your crack getting himself lubed up with the mixed substances.

Gojo reached his thumb down tracing over your full cheeks, watching how your throat bulges more and more the deeper he pushes himself inside your mouth fucking your eyes to reverse watching how they looked away from him and into the back of your head with a teary face that could arouse any man.

“I need-air tworu~”

Your drool running down your chin with your cock half limp between your thighs from how Geto jerked you off leaving you already feeling empty. Suguru reaches his hands up and grips your hips tightly nudging his cockhead against your rim watching while it stretches wide in a sad attempt to fit him, his cock feels like it’s tearing you in half.

“Fuck!~ hurts Suguru—“

You gasp when Satoru pulls his cock from your mouth leaving you fishing the purple pillows clenching up around Geto while he lazily pushes in, he doesn’t pay mind to it hurting you, he rubs small circles on your hips before bottoming himself all the way inside you with your rim leaving a little blood in with the lube from being stretched so much you tore.

“Shh, now you know you can take it can’t you [nickname]”

Gojo drops your head letting it fall forward with your teary face in the purple pillows, your lips all swollen and your throat feeling like razors doing nothing but keeping you from screaming anymore. Your voice is weak and all you can do is hold the pillows and let out little squeals around Suguru.

“Suguru- pleasee—“

You get shut up again by Satoru’s cock, he doesn’t tap his tip to your lips like last time, he forced his whole cock back down your drool filled throat making a slobbery mess running down your face while you reach one hand back trying to push Suguru’s hands off your hips.

“Don’t even try it [name] you know better, god you’re still as feisty as the last time I seen you”

Suguru reached one hand forward holding both your wrists tightly leaving promising red marks while he slowly thrusts his hips forward pushing your face more into Satoru’s groin when Suguru starts to fuck you from behind holding you and binding you with his hands keeping you all defenseless but at this point with the way his cock is sliding against your inner walls you can’t even properly think.

“There you go [nickname] you’re so good at this aren’t you? I think he was made for two cocks Suguru”

Gojo’s blindfold hanging around his neck with his large hand around the back of your head holding it in place while he rocks his hips forward making his veins start prodding against the roof of your mouth more showing you he was close.

“Hmfh!~ Toruu”

You whine wanting to reach your hand down and start touching your cock, you needed to come so bad but you couldn’t do anything but depend on them to make sure you got off. Suguru’s cock pressed against your prostate milking your insides with his base stretching your channel to fit his cock like he was trying to mold you.

“Does our boy wanna come that bad?”

Geto asks you with a fake confused tone fucking you a little harder holding your hands behind your back with one hand using the other to reach down and lift your left thigh up forcing his cock inside you at a deeper angle making you feel every vein and curve to his cock.

“Mh hmm-!”

You’re so far gone you can’t bother to care about every messed up thing these men are doing to you, all your mind can process is ‘needa come’ your back arches and you start trying to bob your head under Satoru’s hand trying to earn good graces from him when you look up at him with your wide eyes batting your lashes back and forth like a doll.

“Oh what’s this? I think he’s starting to be a good boy Satoru, you think we should let him come?”

Suguru asks Satoru with a smug smile holding your thigh tight fucking your insides raw with your rim all puffy and wrapped around his cock split open wide now accepting him with ease with the room in the parlor filling up with lewd squelches from the mix of lube and his spit making wet sounds when his hips hit your ass cheeks.

Plap-plap-plap, the sounds silently echo throughout the room while you just stare up at Gojo with a full mouth before feeling his load shoot down your throat spilling all over the back of your throat and running down the roof of your mouth leaving the pungent taste on your lips.

“I think we should let him come Suguru- he’s been actin nice hasn’t he?”

“I think you’re right Toru~ good boys deserve rewards after all”

Geto let’s your arms go reaching back down between your thighs starting to jerk your cock like he did before, fucking you rougher with his chubby cock head pulsing and twitching on your prostate putting a strong pressure in your stomach threatening to break over at any moment.

Satoru’s cock slips out of your mouth letting you finally breath and gasp for air while Gojo stares down at your face stroking his soft cock hard again and aiming it at your fucked out face watching you get pounded from behind by Geto.

“Close- just a little more- suguru pleasee~!”

You start letting out whiny moans and sounds you never new your voice could make when his thumb runs right across your slit, staring up at Gojo the whole time with your teary face ruined and covered in tears and drool with your hair messy from Gojo’s pulling. Geto keeps going bucking his hips forward harshly rutting himself into you going deep as he can pressing his balls to your backside feeling your rim spasming ready to orgasm around him.

When Suguru flicks his wrist holding the base of your cock it sends you over the edge arching your back under him clenching around his cock and holding onto the purple fabric beneath you, orgasming so hard your ears start ringing making everything in the room feel surreal when you come in Geto’s hand.

“There he goes Suguru- oh that’s such a beautiful face you’re making [nickname]”

Your come floods over Suguru’s thumb and spilling onto the pillows under you making you wail and cry at the nearly dry orgasm being pulled from your cock having you stiffening up under the two men with your nose scrunched in a over stimulated pleasure.

“I’m getting close [name], gonna flood these insides”

When Gojo hears those words he starts stroking his cock faster at your face watching his two best fiends fucking eachother with you laying all out of it and fuzzy from the drugs having you limp under Geto when he lets your thigh down to mount you more fucking your motionless body making you feel how his cock nudged you on its own before his flood gates break.

“O-oh hng~ suguru-“

The words come out high pitched and louder than the last when his come floods your anal cavity, the warmth surrounds your prostate in a hot sensation leaving you feeling all bloated and full from his seed, your hole instinctively starts to clench and unclench around him milking the rest of his load out of him while Gojo lets out a groan watching the whole scene play out before him.

“Here it comes [nickname]”

Those words were the only warning that Gojo gave you before his orgasm shoots across your face all over your nose and lips running down your chin, mixing in with your spit and tears leaving you completely ruined from the two men, with two loads in your tummy and another on your face leaving you spent.

“I can’t take no more Toru~ Suguru I can’t-“

“But you gotta [nickname] ! I haven’t even got to feel your hole yet~”

Gojo lets out a whine while Geto lets go of your cock and pulls out of your ass, using his thumb to push any come that oozes from your hole back inside you while he rotates with Gojo letting Satoru get right behind you swapping places, god! At this rate it was gonna be a real long night.

“Toru- I can’t take it”

You droop your head down feeling his hands flipping you over back into your back on the pillows feeling your come stained pillow fabric pressed to your skin making you cringe, Satoru lifts up one of your legs placing it up on his shoulder nudging your sore rim with his cock while Suguru adjusts himself now facing at your head pressing his cock against your come stained lips.

“Don’t lie, we know you can take it [nickname], you were made to take it baby”

“He’s right baby, we know you can handle it”

They don’t take your weak response as an answer, Gojo slowly pushes his cock into your already stretched hole, sliding in easily from Geto’s come and lube. Your chest aiming up at the air arching splayed on your back with your cock red and soft unable to harden from being milked to many times by the men.

Suguru pushes his cock pash your lips delving it into your wet cavern. Your throat bulges again from your now full mouth, your whole body aches and hurts but all you can do is lay still and take it. Gojo gives you no time to rest before he lifts your other leg up in the air holding you in a mating press while jackhammering into you.

“Fuck Suguru, you’re right his hole feels so fucking good”

Geto hums in response shuddering a little when your canines graze over a sensitive vein on the underside of his cock making him reach his hand down choking your throat a little bit as a warning making your fission blur from the lack of oxygen and the way Gojo was fucking you, reaching more spots than Suguru if that was even possible.

“Ah- careful with your teeth baby, don’t chew on it. Suck it”

Your thighs start trembling pressed to your chest with Gojo dipping his face down and burying his face into your pecks like a madman, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking on it. His hips roll forwards lifting and reaching down to pull your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with your moans being gagged by Suguru’s cock.

“T’muush~ too stuffed Suguru~”

You roll your eyes back into your head looking up at Geto above you with your nose pressed to his balls from the angle he was fucking your mouth at leaving Satoru’s cum all smeared across your face like a sticky mess. Your cock half limp and tender against your inner thigh while it rests on your stomach leaking a little puddle.

“You sucked Satoru off fine, I think you can handle me too [name], now don’t start acting defiant again on us”

The way Geto spoke to you made you whine sadly unable to fight either of them, the drug still in your system and the way they were trying to consume your body whole left you mute sucking on his cock while Gojo pressed his chest up against yours making your toes curl up when he thrusts forward and nails your sweet spot head on.

“Don’t be so mean to him Suguru, he’s just about used up S’ all”

Satoru coos out to Suguru while he makes the pillows dip under the shared weight of him on top of you, Geto’s come swirling around your insides and trickling down your thighs around the base of Gojo’s cock while Gojo bites down on your nipple again only pulling his mouth off of your flesh to speak.

“I’m getting close [name], do’ you want it down your throat or face?”

Geto asks looking down at you feeling his balls drawing up against your cheek signaling he was close to his peak. Gojo on the other hand didn’t care about Suguru’s orgasm, he was too busy trying to chase his own inside your stomach. Your rim starts burning and stinging from being used and gaping around a cock for so long leaving you in painful pleasure.

“On m’ face~”

You whimper out quietly just not wanting to have to taste another load or feel more come inside your stomach. Reaching one hand down whining when you start to touch your cock, it felt like touching a stiff rod, your hand slowly moved up and down it crying to have to pull another orgasm but you needed to come so bad.

“You can’t do that [nickname] you gotta come from me or Suguru, so no touchin yourself”

Before you can respond or complain Satoru has his free hand slipping off your hip and down onto your cock, quickly swatting your hand away from it. His strokes aren’t gentle like yours were, his are fast and unorganized like his thrusts are. Gojo takes his mouth off your nipple and shoves his face in your neck while Suguru keeps fucking your mouth, his thrusts slow down pulling out of your mouth with his cock jumping on its own.

“There we go [name] see what you do to us?”

Your ass feels sore and red from hips slapping against them over and over but before you can complain a hot load shoots all over your face spilling into your eyelashes and into your mouth making you taste his come, he tasted sweeter than Gojo, his semen more thick and less opaque than Satoru’s.

“I’m getting close Sa-Toruu~”

Your voice cracks from a sore face fucked throat, your lips are all sticky and cracked in the corners from opening your mouth too wide, your lips part and ho agape making an ‘O’ shape when Gojo bites at the crook of your neck licking over the red marks he’s leaving on your S/c skin.

Your abdomen starts feeling hotter and more tense making you sweat underneath Satoru when his cock teases your insides making your legs feel like jello up in the air with your knees bent over his shoulders. By the way Gojo was tensing up and the muscles of his shoulders stiffened beneath your finger nails you could tell he was about to come.

“Me too- you’re just milking it out of me [nickname]”

His hand works harder and faster against your cock making you groan starting to orgasm shaking and crying with hardly any semen able to spill from you. Your tip starts leaking barely any pre come, you begin orgasming dry making Geto smile above you happy to know they had milked your body dry, Suguru reaches his hand down stroking your cheek while Gojo plows you between your thighs making the room spin through your eyes.

Soon the feeling of warmth in your gut hits you again letting you know Satoru had just found his release inside you, his semen seeping out of you overflowing your hole leaving the thin strings of his come running down your thighs and staining the pillows beneath the two of you.

“Toruu.. I’m soo sore-“

You whisper out under him reaching one hand up to his neck and grabbing his hair with your other hand still on his shoulder. Rolling your eyes forwards looking up at Suguru with your insides flooded and your face ruined- god you can’t handle these two insane men- They’re something else!

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choerypetal · 11 months ago

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Envy and Passion / Coriolanus Snow

summary : being the daughter of Casca Highbottom had its advantages and challenges. As long as one maintained a private and noble demeanor associated with the family name, there were benefits to enjoy. However, the downside came in the form of her father's deep-seated animosity towards the Snow family. despite this, the Coriolanus Snow devised a plan to reunite her, foreseeing a journey towards greatness, enduring purity, lust and a lasting legacy.

ps ; read part two!!

english isn't my first language, so i excuse for small typo or error mistakes. ps : please don't copy my work or use it without proper credit! thank you

You experienced contentment as a student at the Capitol's Academy, all thanks to your father's insistence that you become involved in his work until graduation. It was during your final year that the announcement for the 10th Hunger Games came unexpectedly early. While you had expected to work alongside Dr. Gaul as a Gamemaker, you found yourself assisting during the reaping ceremony. It was there that you first encountered Snow.

"No distractions." Your father emphasized, implying a prohibition on interactions with your classmates. Despite the difficulty in ignoring the palpable tension between him and Snow, a part of you harbored a wish that, without the animosity, a friendship could have blossomed. That's what you longed for—a connection you could deem as friendship. To everyone’s surprise, Highbottom's daughter being chosen among the mentors became the talk of the Academy, thrusting you into the limelight against your wishes. Being the center of attention was something you despised the most.

"Miss Highbottom." Dr. Gaul greeted you as you entered the room designated for the impending reaping ceremony. The enthusiasm in her voice hinted at some special arrangements for your role and, perhaps, your involvement in a specific aspect of the Games. However, such expectations shifted when you observed Snow's silhouette standing beside her. A brief exchange between the two suggested an ongoing conversation, making you contemplate to excuse yourself of interrupting further. Despite this, Dr. Gaul, with her customary smile, welcomed your presence and inquired. "Have you met Mr. Snow?"

Did you meet him? Undoubtedly, you had. Given your father's openly declared animosity towards him, it was clear that some past conflict existed between your father and Snow's. Yet, the perplexing part was why such strong feelings were directed at the son, who was merely alive and fulfilling the responsibilities of a dutiful citizen. That remained a mystery to you. "Certainly, I have. My father never stops talking about him. How he 'adores' him." you replied with a touch of irony. In the peculiar logic of your father, adoration seemed to coexist with complete disdain.

Snow's demeanor appeared uneasy in your presence, yet he quickly regained confidence when he noted your affirmation. Whether you were suggesting this to please Dr. Gaul or for some other reason, he intended to assert his dominance once alone, especially with a member of the Highbottom family. However, instead of confrontation, he simply smiled and acknowledged the subtle comment. "I can't say I'd be eager to hear what Y/N's father thinks of me, let alone my family's name." He remarked.

"Don't take it personal." You suggested, a smile playing on your features as you attempted to lighten the moment while conversing with Snow. It was intriguing to encounter the Snow your father so vehemently despised, and yet, here he was, appearing composed and not entirely matching the description your father painted. "My father has always had a soft spot for pretty faces." You added with a hint of irony.

In the realm of subjective beauty, Snow found it almost amusing to consider that you held your own private entertainment. Embracing your father's comments, you became a figure easily envied, yet the tension shared between them made it difficult not to be stirred. Fairly speaking, you stood out as one of the most attractive girls in the class, alongside Clemensia; the two of you complemented each other seamlessly. Described as cold as the winter’s snow due to the striking contrast between your fair skin and dark locks inherited from your mothers, you and Clemensia exhibited a captivating allure. Snow entertained the notion that if he delved even further into the profound depths of your eyes, he might lose himself completely—in love, that is. And he hated every bits of it.

"If I were you, I'd be on my best behavior, sweetheart." He advised, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Dr. Gaul was observing. You could almost swear you saw her smile transform into a devious smirk, a subtle admission that she relished the spectacle before her—a spectacle of envy and hatred entangled in a mutual trap. "And what will happen if I don't?" You countered, striving to maintain control just as your father made his entrance, signaling the commencement of the reaping ceremony. His eyes fell upon you and Snow in close proximity, prompting him to be the first to assert authority. "Snow, to your seat now." He commanded. It was evident that Snow's disdain for your father resurfaced as he shot you a final glance before begrudgingly taking his seat.

Fortuitously, you found yourself seated next to him. In all honesty, you had orchestrated this arrangement, intending to be by his side even before your father's disapproving gaze hinted at a switch. However, it was too late by then; the ceremony had commenced, and your father's attention was fully absorbed in the mentors and assigned tributes. This provided you with the perfect opportunity to approach Snow once again. Leaning in, both eyes fixed on the screen to maintain an appearance of focus, you remarked. "You know, if it weren't for my father's animosity towards you, I'd be eager to get to know you."

Snow's piercing blue eyes shifted from the screen to yours. He blinked twice, as if questioning whether he had heard correctly. Highbottom's own daughter appeared to be permitting their adversary to draw a little closer. Or perhaps, in her eyes, he wasn't an enemy at all. He chuckled ever so slightly at the ironic situation. “And if it wasn’t for your father’s constant reminder that my own father was an asshole, I’d say that his own daughter is the most prettiest and fuckable girl I have ever laid my eyes upon.”

A blush crept beneath your features, a delicate balance of beauty that Snow took pleasure in accentuating. You shared the same acknowledgment as he did, though you maintained a touch more class, unlike him. He tended to be straightforward and always in control, a demeanor he effortlessly displayed as he rendered his fellow classmate completely vulnerable with his words. Leaning in further, his fingers traced along your thigh, causing a tingling sensation at its touch and making your blush more evident. "To be fair, I've always had my eyes on you, you know?" He confessed. "Dr. Gaul wanted to make a proposition earlier and suggested that we work together for the whole semester, even having the lab all to ourselves…"

“Meaning?” Of course you knew. Having the Lab to yourselves meant that Snow was going to make sure that he had every bits of fantasies piled through him just to have you all too himself. “Meaning, I’ll be able to fuck you endlessly. Maybe a distraction is what I do need after all. Can’t say that especially having the luck to be with Highbottom’s most gorgeous daughter.”

That wasn't until Snow himself became entranced by your beauty, especially when it was his turn to learn about the tribute he was about to meet. "Coriolanus Snow." Your father's voice echoed with the same undertones of hatred and boredom, his disdain evident at the mention of a name from a generation he feared would worsen Panem. "District 12. Girl." Snow's gaze shifted from the screen to the captivating performance you were putting on. Yet, his current fixation remained on you. Leaning in further, he let his breath linger in the crook of your neck, his lips gently brushing your skin, and you could've sworn you felt a few pecks too. Fortunately, your father remained oblivious, continuing to list the remaining mentors. Suppressing a silent giggle, you pretended that Snow had said something amusing. "And how about..." He continued, placing a few more pecks on your neck. Delicately, you tried not to make your blush too obvious. "After the ceremony, I have to get some paperwork done at the lab. It would be a shame if I didn't have something to keep me focused."

“Why of course, Mister Snow.” You admitted it so effortlessly, causing Snow's smile to transform into a cunning smirk. It was a smirk filled with desire, and longing. Snow yearned to experience the taste of you and hear you utter his name, just so your father could discover that his own daughter had unknowingly fallen into Snow's snare. From this moment forward, you belonged completely to him.

“Then, I’ll make sure to know who you belong to. Princess.”

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagine

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etfrin · 1 year ago

Text

⤷❝Don't Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, blood play , knife play, mentions of killing, somnophilia, pussy spanking, impact play (Coryo spanks your ass like twice), riding, mating press, overstimulation if you squint, squirting, dub-con if you squint, fucked up lovesick! reader, fucked up dark! Snow, predator/prey dynamics if you squint, degradation, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), creampie | lmk if I forgot anything

⇢☾Pairing: Ghostface! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: You're trying to outrun Ghostface, you fail and find out that he's your bestie and your love Coriolanus Snow, smut ensues despite the circumstances

⇢☾A/N: DARK CONTENT AHEAD, read this ast your own risk, do not romanticize!

Ps: i love this, depending on the response/feedback I get, I might write more Ghostface! Coryo

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >

‘Run, run, run’, your mind kept thinking, as the burn of pushing past the wind and all the halls made your legs go weak. You wanted to tear your ears off so you could mute all the screams that were echoing.

You didn't want to die. Fuck it. You're not gonna die.

One of the two Ghostfaces was chasing you, fast but slower than you. Something in your mind told you that they were playing with you. You were just a prey and the predator was being merciful by letting you live for the last time.

Alarms set off in your mind as you dash into an empty classroom, hoping that he will walk past it. You hide behind the door, praying to whoever is above for safety. Nobody listened.

The door to the classroom was opened and you knew it in your bones that you were doomed. That you had to fight, even if you're terrible at it. The creaking sound of the door sent shivers down your spine, your mind going haywire as heavy steps echoed into the empty.

“You can come out, baby,” he said, as he walked in without closing the door, “otherwise you won't get any kindness from me, bird.” The nicknames felt familiar to you but you pay it no mind. As he walks further into the classroom, you decide to slowly get out of your hiding spot to walk out of the door and take a run from it.

You can do it, can't you?

The answer was a no because even when you managed to take a step outside of the classroom, you were yanked back in, and thrown to the floor. The infamous Ghostface is in front of you with a shiny knife that makes your heart go wild but not in the right way. Fear and adrenaline fill your veins as you look around for any sort of weapon but to no avail.

“Don't you fucking come closer,” you snarl at them. “And what are you gonna do if I do, princess? I don't see a prince charming to protect you here,” he mocks you as he kneels, his hand playing around the with the knife in a rather enticing manner. Your eyes pinned on how he played with the knife around, your breath hitching as you could imagine it carving into your skin not to kill you but. . .

You possibly couldn't blame yourself for your thoughts. You knew you had kinks, but you never had a chance to indulge. Your exes were vanilla and you respected that, you never trusted anyone enough to indulge in your fantasies. Except for one person though by accident, he should be safe in his apartment right now.

Coryo. Coryo was safe, he wasn't aware the friend group was going to break into the academy. Coryo had to be safe. Even if you die at the hands of this stranger tonight, Coryo should be fine. He was never part of the main crew after all. His name from the elitists fell due to his wealth being nonexistent, all that existed in Snow was him and his wit. So there's no possible reason for him to be targeted. Coriolanus was safe.

“Cat caught your tongue, doll?” The masked man taunts you, the voice modulator, his knife inching towards your cheek, the blunt side pressing onto your skin. “Fuck off,” you spit out, trying to crawl away from him but you had no strength left. No fight left in you. Your legs hurt, you can't think, and the rest of your friends are fighting or worse dead.

Tears begin to fill your eyes as you begin to think about them. Last you saw Sajanus, he was getting stabbed, Lucy had run, and Tigris… She was one of the killers, you couldn't wrap your head around that. You looked at Ghostface, a pathetic part of wanting to plead for your life but your ego won out. You spit onto their mask. “Fuck you!” you yelled at them.

A growl sounding feral even through the voice modulator could be heard. Ghostface grabs your jaw with his free hand, “You should know better than to do that, pet,” he smirks. He flipped the knife, the sharp end now digging into your skin, cutting up the layer of the cheek so beads of blood would drag themselves onto the knife.

A small whine left you, but it wasn't out of pain. Your body was readily confusing danger with your desires and there's nothing your mind could do about it. Ghostface lets out a chuckle, “Freaky bitch.” His hand was still grabbing your jaw, your legs pushed down by the weight of his body, there was no way for you to fight (you didn't want to) as he used his knife to pop the buttons of your shirt one by one. Your skin, every inch of your torso and chest was exposed to him.

This should have filled ice in your veins, but fire burned instead, you should have yelled at him to stop, plead, anything instead you tried to nip the urge of rubbing your thighs together. Fuck, this turned you on to no end. The thrill. The danger. You were so tired of being good. So what if you end up dead, at least you'll get a good fuck out of this.

His knife begins to cut fine lines onto your skin, near your bra, dragging along the underside of your clothed breast. Red begins to paint across your skin. “Fuck,” you whispered when the knife dug too deeply near your left hip, a long cut that felt like he was carving out a letter. You take multiple deep breaths, trying to keep the tears at the edge. “Stop!” you whispered, “Just kill me, stop.” The murderer didn't reply.

Something felt eerily familiar about him, the way something was carved onto your skin. You sit up a bit, and he doesn't stop you and your eyes fall to the cut he had finished on your hip. A ‘C’. No, no, no, no.

“Coryo,” you groan, in pain and shock. Tigris being one of the killers, you suppose it made sense. But what assured you was the fact Snow was always marking you up, a finger tracing the letters of his name onto your hand, or the tip of a pen inking you with his initials onto your skin. This time he did it with a knife, something so permanent. It was such a Coryo thing to do.

A soft distorted laugh comes out through the mask before his hand lifts it. Coriolanus Snow with his manic blue eyes and a feral grin, his blonde locks disheveled for once greeted you. “You're going to enjoy this, doll,”

“You- I-” You couldn't form a single thought, how could you? Your Coryo (both of you were nothing, both of you were something. So close to being with each other forever but too afraid to jump that hill) was a murderer, he was going to kill you. A boy whom you watched for years grow up to be a man despite the circumstances, whom you had shared your first kiss with and who was your first love and the one who got away because of your cowardice was going to kill you. You were going to die by his hands. Poets would make it seem romantic, dying at the hands of your love seems like a mercy.

It wasn't.

Anybody but him, you didn't want your love to be tainted with this. You didn't want your blood to be on his hands, not on your Snow. “Anyone but you,” you whispered, “Coryo, no!” You flinch away when he leans in and a glare forms in his eyes. “I won't hurt you, doll. You're one of the good ones. You're my pet,” he whispered, his knife pressing onto the bleeding wound of your skin. “I have trained you so well after all,” he smirks.

“What- what do you mean?” You gasp out, your mind on the edge of your sanity. “You aren't afraid, you aren't screaming, you aren't crying and whining like a bitch like those other motherfuckers, are you?” He grins, “It's because your body knows that I won't hurt you. I have trained you to feel safe around me. I am your savior, doll.” He leans in closer, his hot breath hitting your lips with his every word, “You enjoyed the run. You enjoyed the chase. You don't care about dying, you want to be fucked. You didn't know it was me but I bet your slutty cunt is soaking through those panties anyway."

“Am I lying?” He whispered, “Tell me it's a lie, tell me you aren't wet, that you weren't enjoying this and I'll leave.” You couldn't bring yourself to lie, not when you were lost in those eyes. Is this why people say love ends you? It was a weapon that Coryo knew he held, an invisible dragger against your throat. “I-” You wanted to lie, you wanted too, you swear.

Instead, you close the pathetic excuse of a gap between his lips and yours. Your hands grab at his robe, pulling him in as you kiss feverishly. Like he was the air itself, you couldn't breathe, not when both your lips and your tongues meet. The moan you let out of the contact made you realize you had nothing left to yourself. Your mind, your soul, and your marked body belonged to him. The price for falling for the devil. A price you gladly paid.

He breaks the kiss with a gasp, his face in a boyish grin you have seen from childhood. “I knew it. You're mine, dove. Mine.” With that he licks a strip of nearly dried blood from your cheek, dragging his tongue onto your cut and letting out a moan from the taste of iron onto his tongue. Your taste. You whimper as he continues to lav at the blood covering your face, cleaning you up like a dog would.

His cold hands find their way to your back, playing with your bra clasp before finally freeing your breasts from their confines. He pulls back, throwing the knife far away from you both (did it matter? He would win in a fight anyway). His palms knead your breasts, as his needy lips keep pressing against yours.

“Is this real?” He asked, breathless. His fingers roll your nipples until they harden under his touch. You moan in response as your nipples keep getting teased, a sharp gasp leaves as he pinches the nipples hard. “Real or not real?”

“Real,” you whimper, “Real. Real. Real. Real. Coryo, I love you!” He lets out a growl as he hears your confession, his attention towards your breasts getting rougher as he drags his tongue across the canvas of your skin, his teeth marking you up wherever they pleased.

“Of course, you do, baby. I made it so,” he whispered, when his mouth meets your taut nipple, his lips wrapping themselves around the bud to suck as one of his hands was on your back and his opposite hand giving your breast rougher attention. Meanwhile, your hands had found their way into his robes, sliding them off so his shirt and his pants were in view. Your fingers immediately begin to unbutton his shirt to the best of their abilities, your mind not sure whether to focus on the task or the delicious heat of his mouth around your sensitive nub.

Coryo deciding to have mercy (he was sick of your uncoordinated hands, how pathetic you were) took it upon himself to undress while being on task. His lips left to find a home in the cuts he made all over his chest, the small cuts stinging from his licks. But the pain was delicious, could it be considered pain at all with how much you loved it? You suppose not. This was a pleasure, all pleasure given to you by a monster.

His toned muscles came into your view, your hands flying to his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulders causing him to hiss, he was down to your hips now. Near your mark, his initial carved so beautifully against your skin. He had to admire it, he had no choice but to.

“Such a pretty doll. My canvas, I can't wait to have you all to myself, am gonna mark you so nice,” his eyes meet yours. “You have no choice but to let me.”

He pressed a kiss to the deep cut, the blood from it made a mess on the floor. You suspected the only reason you were conscious was because of adrenaline alone. His lips are red with your blood pressed onto your lips, making you taste yourself. You moan, letting yourself be familiarized with the taste for the future.

Your hands find solace in his blonde locks as his hands unbutton your pants. “Let's see how slutty my pet is,” he whispered. He slides off your pants and underwear in one go, his fingers pressing into your heat, gathering the arousal onto his fingertips. He shakes his head, looking displeased (he was more than pleased inside, don't worry), “What a whore.” He pulls his fingers back and strings of your arousal follow. Then smack, smack, smack. Three slaps were delivered to your pussy making you jolt and moan wantonly. Your eyes widen and your cunt begins to ache, reddening from his actions, your clit puffing up and twitching, needing more.

“Please,” you plead, your voice weak, your vision blurry, you need to feel him inside before you black out. “Please, please, Coryo, baby,” you begin to babble, your mind a mess. You feel a kiss on your forehead. “Let go, dove,” he whispered, “I'm gonna keep you safe.”

You wanted to laugh at his words. His actions were the opposite of safe. It was anything but. However, your body had relaxed in his hold, your mind blanking out.

Your mind comes back to reality after hours. You open your eyes to meet pitch black, your body not on the hard cold floor of the academy classroom but on something soft. A bed. “Coryo,” you called, your voice filled with fear.

“Coryo,” you whispered again, turning your body to meet with another warm body. Coryo.

You let out a sigh of relief, and the pain of the incident now settled into your bones, like a distant buzz. You nuzzle into Coriolanus' chest, one of your arms around him. You realize both of you were naked. Completely utterly bare, skin on skin. Your breath hitches, feeling the heat coursing through your body again as you feel his soft cock onto your thigh, so fucking close to your cunt.

You bite your lip in thought, you want to know what happened after you lost consciousness. Were all your friends dead? Did they escape? Did they find out? You also wanted his cock, impatient because you waited for years, and despite the circumstances you knew when to seize opportunities.

Coryo was a heavy sleeper, it was like he slept with the weight of everything on his shoulder. Weight of his world at least. Plus he would like a treat, right? A man as insane as he is, he wouldn't mind your actions even if it solidifies his opinion of you being an whore for him.

Your fingers trace his chest, your palm feeling his heartbeat, your heavy breaths and his quiet ones fill the room. You take your palm and lick it, lubricating it before you grip his length. Your strokes were hesitant, your mind afraid that he would break up and he would be mad. But you feel his cock harden and you love it. You fucking love it. Your pussy gets wet as time goes by and his cock completely hardens.

You take his cockhead and slowly begin to slide it against your pussy lips. A soft moan escapes you as the tip nudges your sensitive clit. Your slick was coated all over his length as you kept grinding against his cock. And soon enough after a particular nudge, his cockhead gets caught in your entrance. It could have easily been pushed away and you could have continued with your actions. But you are pathetically needy and this was not enough.

A whimper escapes your lips as you begin to guide your hips forward to let the cock inside your cunt, stretching out your walls perfectly. You let out a gasp when he was fully in. His cock twitching inside of you. Now was the hard part, fucking yourself onto his cock without him waking up. Impossible but you didn't care at the moment.

You slowly started to roll your hips, taking his length deep inside of you, your walls squeezing around him. You let out soft moans, trying your best to control the animalistic need to ride his cock. Time passes and this continues, the ache of your cunt not fading but getting worse and worse with the need to cum. The pace wasn't enough, no matter how many ways you rubbed your clit raw wasn't enough.

Deciding to play with the devil, you pushed Coryo's sleeping body onto his back, your pussy holding onto his cock as you straddle him. The angle made it so his cockhead kissed your g-spot making you gasp as stars flood your vision, but it didn't trigger your orgasm, your walls oversensitive but throbbing to cum, cum, cum.

You wanted to wake up Snow, wanted him to fuck you, use you, and love you. But you decided against it as you begin to grind your hips, your swollen clit pressing onto his groomed pubic hair, the sensation making you bite your lower lip to stop a loud moan that would surely wake him up.

You couldn't keep up with this long, you wanted to cum, wanted to be filled with his cum as well. You begin to go faster, letting all sense of control out of the window as you slam down his cock again and again, letting his tip nearly breach your cervix.

Smack.

The sound of his hand meeting the meat of your ass freezes you. The area victim of his hit was reddening. “Why did you stop?” He voices, his tone filled with lust “Ride me, bitch. How needy were you that you couldn't wait, huh? Disgusting, truly. I need to train you better, pet.”

An apology remains to be said as his hand slaps your ass again. “Fuck yourself on me, doll,” he grunts, his tone reeking of impatiently. “Co-coryo,” you whine, your hips finding their rhythm but this time with Coriolanus thrusting upwards into your cunt, disrupting your pace. But neither of you cared, both of your actions borderlining to those of mating animals under a full moon.

His hands hold you down, gripping your hips tightly with his fingers printing onto your skin. It puts pressure on your previous wound, making you cry out and tighten your pussy around him reflexively. You wonder if your wound began to bleed again because the smell of blood began to stink in the air along with the distinct smell of sex.

Your thoughts were proven correct as one of his hands left your hip in favor of licking his palm on which your wound had bled. His thrusts turn frantic as the taste of iron blooms onto his tongue. “Fuck, fuck, Coryo!” You begin to moan, louder and louder as heat begins to coil up on your lower tummy. Your gummy walls get slicker and slicker as your sensitive nerves go overdrive with his thrusts.

He lets out a groan, and in a flash, you are on your back onto the mattress, pressed into it as his mouth latches onto your jaw. His hips rutted into you without a care. “You taste so fucking delicious, I bet your cunt tastes wonderous too, princess,” he moans as his teeth begin to bite into the flesh of your neck, his erratic pace bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your hands find themselves on his back, your nails scratching his skin and forming red lines which sting but he loves it so much. So fucking much. His hands pushed your legs up, pressing your knees onto your chest. He has you folded onto a mating press position. His cock reaching impossible depths inside of you.

A particular thrust of his made his cock fuck into your cervix, it makes you scream from the pleasure and pain of all, your body finally letting go. Your cunt spasming, milking his cock for what it's worth as clear liquid squirted out of you, covering Coryo who merely groans from it all.

He fucks you through your orgasm, his cock hitting all the right angles and as your pussy tightens around his cock just right. He cums, deep and nice into your womb. He continues to roll his hips into you, his pace slowing down as he fucks his hot, thick cum into you.

He lets out a shuddering breath as he pulls out and lays beside you. Both of catching your breaths. He breaks the silence first.

“I am going to tell you everything, doll but let me clean up the wound first.”

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964 @skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness @hansbasement @louweasleymalfoy @lettersandwhiteroses @arzua10 @wotcherpeak @ever8ea @dollfacedalls

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ssavaart · 5 months ago

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Scott! I’m an incoming college freshman going in for an art degree. What’s the best advice you can give to a little guy like me?

PS. Thanks for being so inspiring to me! :)

Hi. I don't know if this is the "best advice", but this is what I would tell 18 year old me if I could go back to 1987...

I know you like comic books and you want to be the artist on Spider-Man one day. But... use this time to learn about Art Nouveau and Impressionism and all of the OTHER wonderful kinds of art in the world. Also, I know you love ONLY colored pencils right now. And you're REALLY good at it and you want to make a good impression so you want to use a medium you know best.... BUT... take these 4 years to learn painting. Try new mediums. Experiment. Grow.

Don't look at the next 4 years like you HAVE to get good grades and you HAVE to make good art. Look at the next 4 years as a chance to finally focus ONLY on art and get exposed to other artists and styles and techniques.

Use this time to expand your worldview. Play. Have fun.

Your art can grow SO much if you just step out of your comfort zone and let yourself TRY something new.

That's what I would tell my 18 year old self in 1987 going to the Academy of Art in San Francisco.

I think I would have learned SO much more had I done that.

I hope that helps. And congratulations!

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

#art #artists on tumblr #art advice #art school

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nickeverdeen · 2 months ago

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Hi could you do a five hargreeves x female!reader where reader is normal and doesn't have powers but she's a genius and basically has a photographic memory, and she meets five and he's a bit mean and snarky but eventually he starts to fall for her

I also think it would be funny if she was kinda best friends with Klaus and he kinda teases her about five, but you don't have to include that

Guns And Brains | Five Hargreeves x genius fem!reader

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Klaus Hargreeves x fem!reader (best friend)

Warning: None

PS: Sorry for the unoriginal title

———————————

You were used to being the smartest person in the room. It wasn’t arrogance; it was simply a fact. Your photographic memory allowed you to absorb and recall information with an almost eerie accuracy. In school, you never needed to study, and in life, you rarely encountered a problem you couldn’t solve. You had grown accustomed to the bemused looks and occasional irritation that came from people who found your talents either intimidating or annoying.

Yet here you are, standing in the middle of an ancient-looking mansion, face-to-face with a boy who exuded an air of superiority that rubbed you entirely the wrong way. Five Hargreeves—if you remembered correctly from the vague mentions in tabloids about the dysfunctional Umbrella Academy—was a strange, prodigious enigma. He looked like a teenager, but there was something in his eyes that suggested he was anything but.

From the moment Klaus had introduced you, you could sense the tension brewing. It wasn’t just the way Five had narrowed his eyes at you, or the clipped tone he used when addressing you. It was the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken assertion that he was smarter, quicker, better. The way he practically dared you to prove him wrong.

“Who’s this?” Five had asked, his tone flat and disinterested, as if your presence was more of an inconvenience than anything else.

“This is Y/N,” Klaus had said cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the storm clouds brewing between them. “She’s got a brain like a supercomputer—remember everything she’s ever read, seen, or heard. Thought she might be able to help us out.”

Five’s eyes had flickered with something—annoyance, skepticism, you couldn’t quite tell. “We don’t need help,” he’d said brusquely. “Especially not from someone who thinks they can waltz in and solve problems that are far beyond their understanding.”

And there it was—the gauntlet thrown down. You had felt your spine stiffen, your own competitive streak flaring up in response. You didn’t like the way he assumed you were just some book-smart outsider with no practical experience, especially when he hadn’t even given you a chance to prove otherwise.

“I’m not here to solve your problems,” you replied, your tone sharp. “But from what I’ve heard, you could use all the help you can get.”

Klaus had tried to mediate, sensing the tension. “Alright, kids, play nice. We’re all on the same team here.”

But you had seen the look in Five’s eyes—a mix of condescension and irritation. He clearly didn’t think much of you, and that was something you weren’t about to let slide. If there was one thing you despised, it was being underestimated.

The first few days in the mansion were… interesting, to say the least. Klaus had introduced you to the rest of the siblings, all of whom had their own unique quirks and issues. Luther was stoic and serious, Allison was kind but guarded, Diego was intense, and Viktor was quiet, almost withdrawn. They were an odd bunch, but in some ways, you felt more at ease with them than you did with Five.

Five, on the other hand, seemed determined to make you feel unwelcome. Whenever you offered a suggestion, he’d shoot it down without a second thought. When you tried to engage him in a discussion about the theories he was working on, he’d dismiss your opinions with a wave of his hand, as if your thoughts were nothing more than background noise.

It was infuriating.

At first, you tried to stay calm. Your reminded yourself that you were here to help, not to butt heads with a stubborn man who had likely seen more in his lifetime than you could ever imagine. But as the days passed, you found your patience wearing thin.

The breaking point came one evening when you were all gathered around the dining table, discussing the latest anomaly that Five was trying to unravel. He was pacing back and forth, spouting off calculations and theories at a rapid pace. The others were listening intently, but you could see the confusion in their eyes.

“Maybe if we adjusted the parameters slightly,” you suggested, your tone measured, “we could account for the temporal flux and—”

Five cut you off with a snort. “That’s a ridiculous idea. Adjusting the parameters would only destabilize the entire equation. You clearly don’t understand the complexities of time travel.”

Your jaw clenched. “And you clearly don’t understand the value of listening to other people’s input. Just because you’ve traveled through time doesn’t mean you know everything.”

Five stopped pacing and turned to face you, his expression cold. “I’ve spent decades—decades—working on these equations. You’ve been here for a week. Don’t presume to know more than I do.”

The room went silent. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but you didn’t back down. You were tired of Five’s arrogance, tired of him treating you like you were some naive child who had wandered into his domain.

“Maybe I don’t know more than you,” you said, your voice steady. “But I’m not an idiot, and I’m not going to stand here and let you treat me like one. If you’re so confident in your theories, then why not test them? Or are you afraid that someone else might actually have a better idea?”

Five’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, his tone icy. “Let’s test it. And when it fails, you can stop wasting our time with your half-baked theories.”

You didn’t respond. You simply nodded and turned your attention back to the problem at hand, determined to prove him wrong.

The next few days were tense, to say the least. You and Five worked together, but it was clear that neither of you were happy about it. Every interaction was laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults. Yet, beneath the hostility, there was a grudging respect forming, though neither of you would admit it.

Despite his arrogance, you couldn’t help but be impressed by Five’s intellect. He was brilliant, there was no denying that. His mind worked at a speed that rivaled your own, and his knowledge of temporal mechanics was unmatched. But he was also infuriatingly stubborn, refusing to consider any idea that wasn’t his own.

For his part, Five found himself both annoyed and intrigued by you. You were smart—smarter than he’d initially given you credit for. Your insights were often sharp and on point, even if he was loath to admit it. But what bothered him the most was how you challenged him, pushing back against his authority in a way no one else dared to. It was unsettling, and yet… he found himself drawn to it.

One afternoon, as you were pouring over another set of calculations, you suddenly spoke up.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, not looking up from the paper in front of you.

“Dangerous,” Five muttered under his breath, but there was no real bite to his words.

You ignored him. “You’re right about the temporal flux destabilizing if we adjust the parameters too much. But what if we didn’t adjust them directly? What if we introduced a stabilizing agent that could counterbalance the fluctuations?”

Five paused, considering your words. It wasn’t a completely ridiculous idea. In fact, it was… interesting. But he wasn’t about to let you know that.

“It’s a long shot,” he said instead, his tone dismissive.

“Maybe,” you conceded. “But it’s worth a try. Unless you have a better idea?”

Five scowled, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine. We’ll try it your way. But don’t get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

As you worked together, there was a noticeable shift in the air between you two. The barbs were still there, but they were less sharp, the insults less cutting. It was as if you were beginning to acknowledge each other as equals—rivals, perhaps, but with a mutual respect that was slowly, begrudgingly, forming.

Weeks passed, and the initial tension between you and Five began to ease, replaced by a rhythm of sorts. You still bickered, still challenged each other at every turn, but there was a camaraderie in it now. A strange, twisted camaraderie, but camaraderie nonetheless.

The others noticed it too. Klaus, in particular, found endless amusement in your interactions, often teasing you about your “little crush” on Five.

“Admit it,” Klaus says with a grin. “You two are just one good argument away from kissing.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comments, but you couldn’t deny that there was a certain… tension between you and Five. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. The last thing you wanted was to give Five the satisfaction of knowing he got under your skin in more ways than one.

But the turning point came one evening, when you were working late in the mansion’s library. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft rustle of papers as you pored over your latest set of equations. You were focused, your mind fully absorbed in the problem at hand, when you felt a pair of eyes on you.

You looked up, only to find Five watching you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Five hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “You’re not as annoying as I thought you were.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but coming from Five, it was close enough. You felt a small smile tug at your lips. “You’re not as unbearable as I thought you were either.”

Five’s lips quirked up in the faintest hint of a smile. “High praise.”

You fell into a comfortable silence after that, the tension between you two shifting into something else. Something neither of you were quite ready to name.

#request #imagine #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves x reader #enemies to lovers #number five x reader #five tua #five hargreeves

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lightweaver-chosen-if · 8 months ago

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DASHINGDON | FORUM | MAIN POST

I know it took awhile but… tadaah!

New 20k words of content just dropped, bringing the game to 50k! Each playthrough is around 22k~ words with mini paths to explore.

I tried to edit this as much as I could, but with the new amount of branches I'm starting to get cross-eyed after re-reading the game so many times. As always feedback is always welcome! I'm having some trouble in linking scenes together with code. So if there are parts where it seems weirdly formatted or abrupt, please let me know in the forums.

IMPORTANT:

Please use a new save! A lot has changed since the last update so it's most likely broken. The game passed both the quick and random test, so if you encounter any errors please make sure you didn't use an old save before reporting game breaking bugs.

What's New:

Continue the tour with A and L!

Learn about future events

Officially become a Launwyce Academy student

MC lore ;)

Meet and interact with your potential pet 🐶😺

Meet and interact with J

What's Edited:

Prologue

World lore

More physical banter variations for A and L when they have different genders

Hope everyone enjoys the update! :D

PS: Ignore the main re-post, just wanted to transfer the main post to this account.

PPS: omg I just realized it's April 1 - this is not an April fools joke !!!

#if wip #lightweaver: chosen #dashingdon #interactive fiction #choice of games #hosted games #if #cog #hog #choicescript #interactive novel #if game #if update

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cloudywriting05 · 10 months ago

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i follow rivers — coriolanus snow

→ coriolanus x femreader

→ word count: 4659 (lorrrrrd)

→ 18+ content, smut, spitting, slapping, choking etc. SLOW burn.

→ summary: you and coryo have been fuck-buddies for as long as you can remember. he gets jealous easily, but doesn't wanna claim you. you put your foot down and he doesn't take it lightly.

ps: suggestions are WELCOME y’all! I want prompts so I can make more of stuff like this, non smut too! suggest suggest suggest <3

You sat beside Arachne in silence. The sound of Highbottom pacing around the floor, rambling about the greatness of the human body was tiring you more than anything. Your eyes trailed around the room, glancing at everyone, all of which seemed disinterested. You tried your best not to look at him, but his glistening blonde hair roped you in. You stared at Coriolanus, all the time. He never seemed to notice. You've been examining his features for as long as you can remember, admiring him from a distance.

Late last year, Coriolanus asked you if he could come over for help with statistics, and you innocently agreed. You ended up getting fucked in your bathroom and squirting all over your floor, which was not how you expected that to go at all. Ever since then, you'd been casually meeting up to fuck whenever the other felt like it. After the third or fifth time, you established rules with him, you could NOT develop feelings for each other but also to view one another as an outlet and source for something good. And so, you did. All throughout break you were constantly getting your cunt devoured and fucked by Coriolanus. The minute your parents left; he was over, knee-deep inside of you.

It sucked because, beyond all his coldness at the Academy, he was truly a sweet person. You hated that. You knew somewhere deep inside of you that if Coryo asked you to be his girlfriend, you would justifiably jump at the chance. You hated that so much, you loved him in your own way. You had been so deep in your thoughts you hadn't realised that Coryo was looking right at you, startling you slightly. Coriolanus who sat in the second row, arms crossed, smiled at your reaction; knowing he'd startled you. You rolled your eyes. Arachne glanced at you, then down at Coryo, and scoffed in disgust.

No one knew you and Coryo were having sex almost every day. No one. You made an effort to be cold and keep your distance from Coryo at the Academy. This killed you but, you knew it was for both of your benefits. You hated when the other girls spoke about him or giggled about his body. You wanted to rip their throats out but all you could do was downplay him, every time. Coriolanus on the other hand hated your cold shoulder, it drove him insane. One day you were begging him to stop teasing you with the tip of his cock, and the next you acted like he didn’t exist. In his eyes, you were treating him like a walking dildo, and he hated it more than anything.

The class was concluded, and everyone was dismissed. You rushed to stuff your books in your bag and dropped your neuroscience textbook. "Need a hand?"

Your head snapped to see who had appeared behind you without any warning, it was Sejanus. Your heart slowed, instantly calming down. Sejanus was a sweetheart and a friend of both you and Coryo. He truly did nothing wrong and could do nothing wrong. He was the most compassionate person you knew, and you loved it about him. He was the only person who shared the same views as you on the Hunger Games. He swiped your book off the floor and handed it to you.

"Thanks, Sejanus," you said shoving the book into your bag, "how long were standing there, weirdo?"

"The whole time."

You playfully groaned and threw your head back in disgust, causing him to burst out laughing. "That's fucking weird, Sejanus."

Sejanus made you laugh so much; it was your favourite thing about him. You both left the lecture hall laughing hysterically, not aware of Coriolanus watching. Glaring at your hand run down Sejanus's arm, as your free hand rubbed your ribs laughing. He felt his jaw clench, he truly thought at that moment, that there was nothing more revolting and disrespectful than what he had just seen. You laughed with Sejanus... but not him?

No, that’s not fair. That’s not fair at all, he thought. What did Sejanus have that he didn’t? He was tall, handsome, and smart, and he never left your house without making sure you had come not once, but multiple times. He was basically everything you needed in your life, and he hated how you didn’t see that. Why didn’t you see that? He knew he was the only man fit for you, to protect you.

So why were you laughing with Sejanus and not him? Why did you treat him like a stranger but Sejanus like your best-friend? It didn’t make any sense, and it drove him insane. He stared at the back of Sejanus’s head, the idiot believed they were friends, but often Coriolanus wishes he could shoot him in the head. Times like this he was truly capable of doing so if he had the chance. Coriolanus took a moment to calm himself, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be either. He liked his freedom a bit too much. He could speak to the girls and not have you say anything about it. God, he knew it was unfair on you when he would purposely make the guys who spoke about you back off, or even just get bitter. He observed and took his jealousy out on you when you were both alone, you didn’t know about it though.

“Your name literally has anus in it, Sej! Do not talk about my name-” you wheezed, playfully pushing Sejanus’s right shoulder.

Coriolanus took this as a sign to approach the both of you, slowly making his way towards you.

You leant against your lockers, facing each other, gasping for air. “Don’t start that anus crap with me, okay? You know who also has anus in their name? Coriolanus.”

“That’s a tired joke.” Coriolanus chimed in, causing both of your laughter’s to halt immediately. You didn’t realise he’d snuck up on you, nor that he cared about his name having anus in it, until this very moment at least.

Sejanus cleared his throat softly and glanced at you for a moment, clearly startled and uncomfortable by Coriolanus’s presence, “I was just heading off, see you later, alright?”

He stalked off, not looking back. You watched him leave the building, leaving just you and Coriolanus in the empty hallway. “What the hell are you doing?” you hissed.

“You know I always thought you were shy, and that was why you never spoke to me at Academy, but you’re actually the opposite,” he said with an almost blank expression, “you clearly have a lot to say; especially to Sejanus.”

“Sejanus is my friend.”

He let out a laugh, “And what am I? One night we’re fucking and laughing together, and the next day you’re treating me like I mean nothing. Look, I care about you.”

“Why? We agreed that there would be NO feelings involved. Do you know how bad it would be if anyone found out we had whatever we had going on,” you asked, trying your best to bring him down to earth.

“Why do you care so much about everyone else’s opinion? Actually, you don’t. You care Sejanus’s which is why he’s the only person you fucking speak to,” his expression dropped within a second. “Do you... like.. Sejanus?”

You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, “Coriolanus, no. I do not like Sejanus, I didn’t know that fucking you had terms and conditions about who I spoke to.”

“Well, it does. I hate watching you speak to other guys, while ignoring me; it drives me fucking insane. Do you know how much restraint it takes to not pick up a table and throw it at Sejanus every fucking time he goes near you?” he hissed. “You think I don’t notice whenever any of the other guy’s stare at you? When they try and talk to you or say you’re the hottest girl they’ve seen here when they’re in their groups and you’re not around? You know how much it kills me? My only relief is that I get to have you right after.”

He lowered his upper body to level with you, his face inches from yours, you felt your heart speed up slightly. “I feel the same way whenever the other girls call you hot or talk about wanting to fuck you, but I don’t act like a fucking kid about it. Man up. You’re not my boyfriend.”

His eyes glared into your soul, you felt like he could read every thought, and it scared you; he scared you. “You made up the terms. I just said yes because I wanted to be around you. I want you.”

“What do you want out of this, Coriolanus? Tell me now so I can go home, you fucking psycho.”

“I want you.”

“No, you don’t. You want my attention, and you hate the fact you can’t fully have me. Have Clemensia instead, I’m sure she’ll like you.”

“You’re still on about that?”

“You kissed her, Coriolanus.”

He scoffed in annoyance, the last party he had gotten too drunk and kissed Clemensia. He was a wreck for most of the party because you refused to go near him and stuck with Sejanus and the others, but he gave you different reasoning, obviously, “I was drunk.”

“Listen. I’m not up for being told what to do, alright? You get to speak to whoever and if I have a chat with Sejanus, you have a massive fit. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

His angry expression had faded by now, he peered down at you, almost in disbelief, “Are you being serious?”

You stared at him for a brief moment, he was so beautiful. You could kiss him right now, but you had to hold back. You knew that this was going to be the last time you spoke to him, that all your nights of staying up, talking, and fucking were now over. He knew it too. You tilted your head slightly, “I don’t think we’re mature enough for it, Coryo. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t want me anymore?” he asked, sounding like a child who was just told no.

You wanted him and that was the problem, he didn’t want to make it an official relationship and he didn’t have to tell you he didn’t. You knew. You could just tell, and it always was obvious. He enjoyed his freedom while also having you to fuck, like every other boy would. You had to put your foot down.

“I’m sorry,” you raised yourself onto your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips, “goodbye, Coriolanus.”

You walked away that day and didn’t look back. After that, days became bleak for Coriolanus. He watched you become livelier in class, putting your hand up for certain things and speaking to others you didn’t know before. He wondered if this was a plan to get back at him for everything, whatever you were doing was working too well. He could not get you off his mind. He already was drowning in thoughts of you before, but not like right now, this was worse. Before he still had you and was able to see you and be with you, now your distance has become further, and you won’t look at him for more than a split second. Did he not matter to you anymore? Just like that?

You both sat in Literature, listening to your professor talk about love. He glared at you from the row behind you, his eyes practically burning through your skull. You knew he was looking; he’s been staring at you for the past two weeks ever since you cut it off. You refused to give him attention.

“Now, who has an idea of what love truly means.” Professor Click spoke, scanning the classroom for someone to answer. Your hand shot up. “Would you like to stand and answer?”

You nodded your head and arose from your seat, “Love can be many things. It can be beautiful, endearing and is so strong that it can act as motivation to live your life. But it can be one sided, ugly, scary, and cruel.”

“How do you differentiate between attraction and love?” Professor asked.

“You can be in love with someone, and they cannot return those feelings and still bed you just because they find you attractive. That’s an example of attraction versus love, and poor taste in a romantic partner.” you fought the smirk that was going to appear on your face any second now, you described your situation with Coryo on purpose; knowing he would be scorching.

“Perfect examples indeed. Thank you, you may sit.”

You sat down and crossed your legs. Arachne looked at you puzzled before speaking, “That sounded aimed as fuck.”

“It wasn’t.” you clarified before going silent. Coriolanus sat behind you, seething in his seat. Were you mocking him? He didn’t know but he was angry. He felt attacked regardless. He spent the rest of the last class glaring at you while you spoke and chimed in.

You sat on your bed, completely checked out while watching television. Your shorts were far up your ass, and you kept putting off tugging them out to watch the news instead. A sudden bang at your door sent you jumping, you held your chest gasping. You shot up from the couch and scurried to the front door, you peered through the hole and felt a wave of confusion rush over you. Why on God’s name is Coriolanus Snow standing at your front door at this hour of the night. The navy shirt he wore tugging at his chest, his muscles practically seeping through, his grey comfort pants hanging loosely on his legs drove you a little bit crazy. He looked good and you scolded yourself for thinking of him like that.

“Open up. I know your home.” he said, but you were scared.

“I am home, what the fuck do you want?” you said still peering through the hole, you watched him throw his head back and groan.

“I just want to talk to you.” he stated.

“Funny the last time you said you wanted to do that; we didn’t talk much.”

“No. I want to talk to you, please?”

You lifted your head from the hole and rested your forehead against the door, you closed your eyes for a moment and thought to yourself- what the hell are you doing? “Fucking psycho,” you breathed.

You swiftly unlocked the door and swung it open. “Come inside,” he strutted right by you, practically glowing.

You locked the door and turned to face Coriolanus who was sitting on your couch. “Why are you fucking with me?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Coriolanus?”

“Whatever stunt you pulled at Lit was fucking great, you had a poor taste in a romantic partner, huh?” he scoffed, “Like I didn’t have your legs shaking every time I fucked you?”

“Yeah, I do have poor taste. I chose a guy who I fell in love with too fast and let him walk all over me. I’m never going to do that ever again, not with my next one.”

“You’re in love with me?”

You groaned as ran your hands over your face, “Is that a serious question? Of course, I was! I had to break it off because I loved you. The truth is you never liked me as much as I liked you.”

Coriolanus stunned, lifted himself from the couch, and inched towards you. “Are you kidding me? I was over the moon on the nights I got to see you, and the nights I couldn’t, I wasn’t able to sleep. You are all I think about day in and day out. And I hate you for it. I’m going to be married and still think of you, and I hate you for that as well.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you said timidly, slightly embarrassed for underestimating his feelings.

“How could you? You never fucking spoke to me… Oh- but you spoke to Sejanus, fucking Sejanus. Touches and hugs you like your his and not mine.”

“Am I yours?” you dared to ask, times like these weren’t new but for some reason, you felt a rush of adrenaline.

A rush almost the identical to when he had first fucked you in your upstairs bathroom, you concluded it was because your body must’ve missed him.

“Another stupid question, of course you are?”

“Show me I am then.”

Within an instant, Coriolanus had already was gripping your sides, pulling you into him with one tug. His left hand traced up the side of your body and stopped at your cheek. Caressing your cheek softly, he admired you, “You get prettier every day, makes sense why everyone wants you.”

You felt your cunt pulsate, hungry for his touch, ANY sort of touch from Coriolanus. He leant in to kiss you, the contact between your open mouths was more satisfying than you could imagine. His tongue swirled and pressed against yours, tasting you as much as he could; his way of making up for the past weeks that he wasn’t able to. His left hand dropped from your cheek and onto your breast, he cupped it for a moment before shoving it up your t-shirt. His fingertips grazing over your bare boob before cupping it once again, this made you moan a little in his mouth, making him even harder than he already was.

He couldn’t help but massage your boob in a rhythmic motion, only stopping to squeeze your nipple. You loved it when he did that, and how he could still kiss you while doing so. “Get on the couch, now.”

You obeyed, scurrying to the couch and sitting on it, eager to hear what he wanted to do. He stood in front of you, his abdomen in your face. You looked up at him, starry eyed, wondering what he was going to say, “You’re going to sit on my face, and not complain about it, okay?”

You hesitated, a bit stunned. You had done a lot with Coryo before, but sitting on his face? You were slightly scared of the idea of putting your weight on him, what if he got hurt? “Coryo, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” he tugged at his shirt, throwing it on the floor near us. His pants were the next victims, leaving him in his red boxers. He plopped himself onto the couch beside you and laid on his back, “come here. What’re you waiting for?”

He motioned for you to come to him, hesitantly you did. You were now on of him. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, signalling for you to strip. You pulled the shirt over your head, Coriolanus relishing at the sight. You leaned to your left to get your shorts and panties off, and once you had thrown them behind the couch you swiftly fixed your position on top of Coryo. He stared at you for a moment before speaking, “I’ll never get tired of watching you take your clothes off for me, doll. Never.”

You smiled and began inching towards him. Your lips met and the kissing began once again, your tongues dancing against each other. He shifted your body up by your waist, positioning your chest in his face. Coryo, who was having his face caressed by your boobs, was having the absolute time of his life. You peered down at him, staring at your boobs in awe. His mouth latched onto your nipple, his tongue instantly sucking and flicking. You let out a soft groan that could send him into even more of a frenzy. He flattened his tongue and let your nipple glide up and down against it. His attention turned to your other boob, lapping and kissing your nipple. Once done he grabbed of your breasts with his hands and flattened his tongue once again, making them glide against it. Your pussy was aching— hard.

His hands found themselves at your ass, pushing you up. You knew what was going to happen next. You shuffled up, hovering your cunt above Coryo’s face. Coryo thriving with your glistening cunt centimetres from his face, eagerly slapped your ass. “Sit down, doll, you can do it.”

“Coryo, I’m scared I’m going to hurt you–”

“You’re not going to hurt anyone, now sit, put your full body weight on my face and don’t mind me at all, okay?” he said, assuring you.

With that you lowered your cunt onto mouth, his nose now pressed against your pubic area. He didn’t dare to waste a second and let his tongue roam your pussy, wanting to show you that this would be more fun for you than for him. Your back arched, an instant reaction to his warm tongue against your cunt. You felt his tongue start to suck your clit, causing you to moan louder than you wish you had.

“Fuck, Coryo– your tongue feels so good-” you breathed.

Your grinding intensified, as did Coryo’s tongue work. He flicked and sucked every inch of your pussy. You felt a soft tap on your leg, you pulled yourself up immediately, staring down at him to see if he was okay.

“Are you good?”

“I’m good, doll. Stay still for me,” without warning, he stuck his middle and index finger right into your dripping pussy. Thrusting his fingers in and out as fast as he could, purposefully not touching that spot that would make you come. His tongue flicked against your clit wildly, you could feel yourself on the brink of coming, begging he’d keep going. Your cries echoing throughout the floor of your home. His fingers curled, touching the soft you prayed he would. You felt a wave of pleasure engulf of you, making you lose control of your shaking legs. Coriolanus felt your thigh tightened around him as he looked up at you, a moaning mess above him. Your head thrown back in bliss. He could come at the sight of you like this.

“Please, Coryo, keep going, I’m gonna fucking squirt on you, I swear–” you sobbed. This was Coriolanus’s signal to use his palm to vigorously rub your clit while his other digits remained pumping inside of you, making you let out an almost animalistic shriek. Your fluid spurted against his face, making him beam uncontrollably. Your knees buckled as the wave disappeared, you fought every urge to collapse on him then and there. Not until you felt him inside of you.

“Could Sejanus ever make you cum like that? Huh?” he ridiculed from beneath you, you shook your head slowly in response. He thought you were dumb to even think so. “Look what you did. I’m hard, fix it.”

You turned to see his erect penis underneath his boxers, you wasted no time shuffling down and freeing it from its restraint. It sprang in your face and brushed against your chin for split second; oh, how you missed his dick. Grabbing all eight inches of it and you spat on it, stroking it with your spit as the lubricant. Coriolanus choked back his moans, only letting out tiny whimpers. He loved it when you sucked his dick, it was almost like a reward to him. You were indisputably the best at it, and he knew no one would ever do it better than you.

“I wanna sit on it already, Coryo,” you admitted, causing his head to shoot up.

“You’re a greedy, little freak. If you wanna sit on it, be my fucking guest, eager little slut,” he hummed before letting his head fall against the couch.

You straddled him immediately and positioned him right at your entrance. Before sitting on his cock, you took a second to use his tip to glide up and down your folds. Coriolanus noticed this and let out a low laugh, “you’re such a slut, using my dick to rub yourself off. My very own whore.”

He raised his hips, motioning for you to put it in already. You put his cock back into place and slowly slid down. His cock stretching you out as you got closer to his base until you could sit. You felt all eight inches of him inside of you, every bit. You whined to yourself, Coriolanus watching you in awe still fighting back the groans. You lifted yourself up, then down, and quickly picked up a rhythm. Your ass bashed against his pelvis with every motion, causing his moans to escape his lips. His dick hitting your spot without fail. “You are such a fucking slut, say it.”

“I’m such a slut for you, Coriolanus,” you bellowed.

Coriolanus abruptly pushed you onto your back, turning you around with one hand. You got on your knees and hands, knowing what he was going to next. Heaving, he shoved his dick back into you. Missing your pussy already. He gripped onto your hips and thrusted rhythmically, steady but hard. He landed a hard slap against your ass, causing you to holler out. “Sejanus could never fuck you like I can, you dumb girl. No one at Academy can. Your pussy was made for me, look at how good it fits.”

He watched you back yourself onto his dick, your ass red from the skin to skin as you bounced on him, almost hypnotising him. He clutched a lump of your hair and tugged you head back; you kept bouncing on his dick, too horny to stop.

“Open your mouth for me, now,” you followed, letting his spit land onto your tongue which you drank without hesitation, “that’s what happens when you use your mouth to try and hurt me, okay princess?”

“Yes, Coryo, just fuck me, please?” you pleaded, the sound of the skin of your ass smacking against his pelvis engulfing the room. His dick deep inside of you, where it should be always.

He took deep and slow strokes making you groan into the couch. His hand gripped around your neck and tightened, restraining you from breathing a little, just how you like it. Here he was, knee-deep in you again, on the brink of coming inside of you. You felt another orgasm coming and just the thought of coming on his dick gave you a burst of adrenalin, you backed yourself onto his dick uncontrollably; Coriolanus could almost swear he felt his head get lighter in that moment. You felt yourself reaching that point, “Fuck! Coryo, I’m gonna come again.”

“Of course, you are, slut.” He selfishly slapped your ass as hard as he could, knowing he too was about to finish.

You felt that feeling wash over you again, you cried out as you felt your legs tremble vigorously again. Coriolanus watched from behind you as you squirmed.

“Turn around and open your mouth,” you turned around and positioned your open mouth in front of his cock. You stroked it as fast as you could, and within an instant Coriolanus let his warm load splatter across your face, chest and into your mouth. Licking your lips, you threw yourself onto the space behind you, Coriolanus onto the space beside you.

For a moment it was silent, you turned to looked at him, he was staring at you already. He caressed your hair and planted a kiss onto your lips, lovingly almost.

“So, do you want me?” he queried, playfully.

“Coriolanus Snow, I do not date stalkers but, be mine?” you asked mockingly, causing you to both laugh. His laugh quieted.

“Only if you acknowledge me at academy,” he said.

“I guess I can do that if you stop stalking me,” you sighed teasingly.

“I would follow you into the deep sea if it meant I could be with you," he said. "Ah, Snow always lands on top,” he hummed.

“Literally though, look at my chest,” you laughed, motioning towards the cum all over your chest.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant–”

FIN

#the hunger games #ballads of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #snow #young coriolanus snow #coryo #smut #coriolanus smut #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #coriolanus x reader #peeta mellark

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parasolladyansy · 4 months ago

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DxP REWRITE - Jubilife

Just putting it out there now - I’ll be lifting shots from the amazing BDSP artbook to show off 1) how awesome the concept art was, & 2) what we almost got in-game, something more like Sword / Shield (DANGIT 🥲).

I also used screenshots I took to help draw out backgrounds, which was very useful as we go back to that time period to see what Mizumi’s up to.

The benefit of being someone who played Legends Arceus before BDSP is that I can look at buildings & landmarks with fresh eyes. The first moment I saw the Trainer’s School, I thought of a repainted Galaxy HQ with all the rooms & offices being converted into classrooms.

Speaking of schools, in case you missed Scarlet x Violet, Uva & Naranja Academies became one school with 2 wings (Uva & Naranja) after the separate timelines Ansy & Ikrit were on converged

🔼 Diamond x Pearl REWRITE 🔽

<<Previous / Next >>

PS: a couple screenshots to help illustrate my HC - obviously they developed the design in Legends Arceus, but the elements are there. I can easily see Kamado’s office being the principal’s office, Cyllene’s office being adminstrations, flanked by the science lab (Professor Laventon’s study) & nurses’ office (infirmary), etc. 🏫

Also, with this theory, the Pokémon center is in the same spot as where you also go to rest up your team: your quarters in PLA!

#pokemon #bdsp #legends arceus #scarlet and violet #trainersona #fancomic #submas #kudari #emmet #potato mochi #jubilife city #jubilife village #sinnoh #hisui #headcanon

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littyhoney · 1 year ago

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Can we please have Earth 1610! Miles x reader where throughout their journey, the reader has been envious of Gwen because of Miles' feelings for her and he was completely oblivious about Y/N's feelings for him. Then comes the events and reveal of Earth 42! Miles, which he and Y/N were together but his Y/N ended up dying. As the story goes, both our Miles and Reader gets taken and when our Miles wakes up being tied against the punching bag, Y/N comes after him to save him but Earth 42! Miles is blinded with envy and was still in love with Y/N so he pins them on the ground in front of our Miles as he watched his other self trapped Y/N in his arms and praising their beauty. This makes Miles realize that seeing his other self worship Y/N makes his heart burn with Jealousy and realize that he has been in love with Y/N all along, not Gwen. Thank you so much!

Treasure to him.

(Earth 1610! Miles x F!Reader x Earth 42! Miles)

Warnings: Heavy angst, mention of gun, slight toxic, manipulation, very long story

Word count: 5.3K words (longest one fic i have ever write)

Ps: This is an apology piece from me for the delay of chapter five of Right person,Wrong time. I can't promise you guys when i would release it but i hope with this piece it would be something fun for yall to read. I appreciate every single reblogs and words of encouragement for me to write i love yall are so sweet. Enjoy spiders! <3<3

(In earth 1610, before the ATSV events)

You and Miles have known each other since he first step in the Vision Academy, you knew him by the tittle 'cop kid' since like half of the school witnessed Miles embarrassing moment of him and his dad. But you found out that the 'cop kid' is actually a sweet,charming yet awkward boy. You always wait with anticipation for him to walk in the class that you two had in the same time just so that you can see what’s new in his sketchbook, his graffiti sketches some of his portraits its so well drawn that you are mesmerized by it. You also hang out together either to study or you just want to sit together listening to music while you watch the master creating his masterpiece.

Day by day you just start to like his stupid corny jokes about science, his eyes that reminds you of the warm sun and that stupid sweet smile of his. It’s hard not to fall for him, whenever you hang out he would hold your hand to cross the road because he doesn’t want you to fall behind or trip. The little banter you both have when you both come up with a stupid question like “does pineapple belong on pizza”.

But it all changes when he met this ‘Gwanda’ girl or Gwen is her real name since you been in the same class as her after she got transferred here apparently. Ever since he met Gwen he has been weird, that’s when you know he is the new Spider-man of Brooklyn. How do you know? You walk into his room with Ganke one day to his dorm room to return his notes, you look up to see not only Miles on the ceiling but with Gwen and seems to be more spider people. Resulting to Ganke falling back pass out while you got web by one of them.

As the months pass by you and Miles grew closer, you been with him through thick and thin. He need notes? You lend him yours, need someone to dial cops on criminal or villain that he caught? Your phone is ready, need someone to let out some pent up frustration? You will listen to him and be there for him every time. You understand being a hero for the city and a student in such a prestige school in Brooklyn can be too much for him, not to mention he is a freaking teenager. You show him support and love to him hoping that he would notice you feelings for him, of course you did all of that not only because of love,but because you genuinely care for him. But the moment the two of you would just sit together and chatting away through the evening at the ‘Foam Part’ coffee shop, everything just feels right again.

Today is the day that you will admit your feeling for Miles,feet tapping nervously on wood tile with your drink have gone down half of the cup after you keep sipping on it. You been waiting for Miles for half an hour now,you have left him a few messages but he doesn’t respond to it. But he did promise to meet here today, but thanks to his delay you keep reciting the script in your head on how you going to confess to him. Maybe make it quick and straight to the point like “Hey miles look, I like you” or make it sentimental like “Miles,ever since I met you a year ago-” your train of though got interrupted by a ring of a bell from the entrance of the coffee shop.

There standing by the door, slightly out of breath stand Miles Morales. He look around the coffee shop trying to see a familiar face, when his eyes land on you a smile is send to your direction. He make his ways to you before sitting down with a big sigh “Finally! Im done dealing with that guy” he muster up the best puppy face that he can at you “Im sorry that im late (Y/N), as a sorry I’ll buy your (favorite dessert) what do you say?” he tilt his head to the side leaning forward.

Oh how can you be mad at him after that very tempting deal so you roll your eyes and smile at him “Alright alright apology accepted,but this will be the last okay?”. He laugh and nodding his head “Aigh I’ll make sure next time I won’t be late, I be right back” he give you a wink before walking to the counter to order his drink and getting your dessert. You sit there smilling to yourself,the butterfly fluttering in your stomach.

Few minutes later Miles return with the set items “here ya go! Enjoy” he put the small plate in front of you and keeping his hot coco to himself. “You don’t have to you know,a sorry would suffice” you insist while picking up the spoon. Miles shake his head waving his hand “Nah nah I feel bad keeping you hangin man, that’s the least I could do for you”. You just let out a chuckle and nod,it’s free food so.

Like always, you are curious as to what he have been drawing this week so as you feed yourself a spoonful of sweetness “So,anything new you been cooking up?”. Miles put down his cup before nodding “Yeah yeah I have a few new pieces, here” he turn his body slightly reach for his bag pulling out his black sketchbook that is decorated by stickers “Here,check it out” he slide the book to you.

You open up the book skipping few pages back until you see a new art have been drawn by him “Whoa, these are neat Miles” you smile wide as you take in the details and bright colors of the pieces he drawn. “I wanna put up that one up on a wall,I’ll let you know when though” he says as he watches you going through his precious book. You chuckle “can’t wait Miles” you flip to another page, seeing the familiar spider people like that particular black and white spider, Miles told you his name is Spider Noir.

Your eyes trail to another piece in the page, your smile fell slightly. It’s a drawing of the familiar blonde girl, Gwen. You can’t lie that Gwen is a beautiful girl and very talented, the drawing capture her smile and her cool shaved hair that gives her more personality. The envy feeling return but you swallow it down “Wow someone is having a crush huh” you said teasingly at Miles lifting your head to look at him,with a soft but pain smile. “What do you mean?” Miles says furrowed his eyebrows. You turn the book held it up towards him lifting one of your eyebrow “Come onn don’t lie,it’s pretty obvious Miles”. Miles eyes widened “What?! no no nahh you got it wrong im not pfff that’s funny nah nah” he says as he cross his arms over his chest after waving his hand side to side.

You roll your eyes snapping the book shut putting it down on the table “Please you been talking and drawing the same spider people these past months, and you been drawing Gwen a lot too” you give him a pointed look. Miles sigh and put his arms on the table “Look (N/N) whatever it is you’re thinking it’s not that I like her its just that I…I miss her,I miss them” he gesture his hand to the book “It’s, kind of lonely being the only spider-man you know”.

You purse your lips before sigh lightly “I hope one day you can meet them again Miles” you reach for his hand,holding it both in yours. “You’re not alone here Miles, you have Ganke…you have me”

Miles look into your eyes,he is stunned. For as long as they have been friends, Miles does have a tiny crush on her. Miles just like the sound of her laughter or when she scrunched her face at his corny joke makes him forget his problem for a while. He feel comfortable with her,he feel free to be himself with or without the mask. He knows that she’ll be there whenever he needed her help, he also put an extra work to his drawings because he wanted to show you only the best pieces of art from him. But when he met Gwen and to know that she is also a spider,it feels different to him. He know how much Gwen understands him, he doesn’t feel different of being the odd one. He is confuse, over his own feelings.

“Look Miles I been wanting to tell you something” your voice snap him out of his thoughts. “W-what is it (N/N)?” Miles look at you with anticipation.

You on the other hand is having a battle with yourself in your head going back and forth with ‘tell him you feel better’ or ‘Don’t tell him and pretend’. You squeeze his hand in your palm slightly, building up the courage. ‘this is it,if he won’t return my feelings at least I get it off my chest’ you blew out an air and open your mouth “Miles, I…” the word is stuck in your throat. ‘Just say it,say it!’ you mentally scolding yourself.

Just as you open your mouth a loud crash and a panic yelling come from outsdie of the cafe, you and Miles turn to look at scene to see few robbers went inside a car while the owner is screaming for help. ‘Wow…the universe hates me huh’ you look back at Miles to see him already looking at you with a clear ‘I gotta go sorry’ in his eyes. You just tilt your head to it with an understanding smile “Go get em spidey”. Miles smiles at you, and starts to stand up but be he stops “Wait,what is it that you want to tell me?”. You shake your head “No no it’s nothing important really,just school stuff”. But Miles know better and reassure you “Look i know its important, so tell me later okay?” he says as he start to walk backward to the door “Got it?”. You nod your head “got it now go!” watching him runs out of the cafe.

Well there goes your moment to confess, you sight as you take out your phone calling your best friend.

(In earth-42 before the ATSV event)

You climb up the fire escape to Miles hideout,where he and uncle Aaron would do their plans and fixing on his Prowler suit. You know this when the day his father died he sworn to keep the neighborhood safer,not only for his mom but for you too. He try his very best not to let two of his most beloved people in his life have the same fate as his dad.

You being a lovely partner support him and his ambition, you help him provide some of the material he needed. When he got hurt or beaten up, you would be there tending him on the couch, When some day comes the day where he is drown by guilt of not saving or do anything to save his dad, you will be there either holding him or be on the phone with a gentle voice to remind him that “It’s not your fault love”. You are his anchor that keep him grounded in the sea of his big responsibilities. He have to be the man of the house, helping his mom, be a student and survive in this dangerous city.

But the two of you are such a great couple, Miles would walk you to and back from school. Always walk together hand in hand through the school hallway, keeping you protected from anyone try to do anything. Secret kisses and sweet words exchange with a whisper, only a blind person could not see how in love these two couple are. The love and tenderness in his eyes whenever he look at you as you busy telling him about your day. One time the two of you spend the whole night dancing to uncle Aaron’s boombox that he borrowed, it ended with his arms around your waist while your arms around his neck gaze into one another swaying to the music.

That moment will always stuck with you, as you reach the window to his hideout. You heard music blast coming from inside, you pull the window up and crawl in making your way to your man. Miles seem busy with his claw sitting on the stool, so you gently wrap your arm around his waist from behind giving him a soft kiss on his neck “Hey love”. He hum lifting his head from hunching over the claw turning his head to give a kiss on your temple “Hey princesa” you smile at the nickname.

“You been so busy lately love, we spend little to no time together this week but on call for hours” you push yourself away from him leaning on the table beside him. Miles continue to temper with his claw “lo siento, princesa. Promise after I finish with this I’m yours for the night” he glance at you. You look over to the other side of the table to see his black sketchbook, you reach and open it to see few of his old drawings he made. He have less and less time to draw his heart out these past weeks, you keep turning the pages when you see a beautiful drawing of you. You graze your finger over it to see the details and pop out colors. Your hear swell to see he have been drawing you on the few pages back, he drawn you when you’re in class and when you were practicing volleyball he capture your smile every single one of it.

“Aigh im done now, you good mi amada?” Miles call out to you as he grabbing his signature green and purple jacket, he turn his head to see you looking at his sketchbook eyeing on the particular piece that he draw few days back. He knows you love it when he draws you, he wrap one of his arm around your waist leaning his head on yours “Mi amada come on, you can check em out later”. You put the book down chuckling “Okay okay Mr Morales im goingg” you broke out a grin as he drag you by the waist to the same window you came in.

You spend the night getting tacos and chatting together in the cafe you love to hang out at, Miles insist of paying the drinks and your favorite dessert as you two stand patiently at the line to order. Miles held you close to him both are oblivious as what will happen to them soon. A figure dress in all black with hoodie up and mask covering half of his face, he walks up to the cashier.

“Uhm sir you need to be in line to order please” the little waitress says a bit skeptical at the man. “I’m not here for that, the register. open it” the guys says making the waitress even more confuse “E-excuse me sir?”. The guy sudden reach for his back pulling out a gun pointing straight at her “I said open the register now!”

His voice caught the attention not only to the two of you but the few teens in the cafe, once it clicked in their head what is happening some reach for the phone to dial the police but the robber turn around keeping the gun up “If any of you even think of putting your phone up I’ll fucking shoot you!”

Miles already pulling you behind him, his mind is racking for any plans so that this situation won’t get out of hand. You on the other hand holding on to your phone already dialing the 911 but you let the operator listens to the whole commotion, You hand grips tightly on Miles arm, heart beats so fast that you can hear it in your ears. “Miles, what should we do?” you whisper to him. “It’s okay, I’ll handle this okay?” you held on to him with a frown, you know he can handle a simple robbery with his Prowler suit but right now he doesn't have anything to defend himself. “don’t be ridiculous you don’t have your suit” you hiss out through your teeth furrowing your brows at him.

Miles turn his head to his face hold a serious expression,his tone is stern “Just stay out of it, let the police know what happen okay?” before you could protest Miles already make his way to the robber grabbing on to his shoulder turning him around grabbing his arm twisting it. The robber yelp at the sudden attack from Miles, the pain from his twisted arm making him let go of the gun, the weapon fall to the floor as the two struggle accidentally kicking the gun to your direction. You look at the gun and look at the two, you quickly reach down to the gun holding on to it so that the robber won’t take it.

The robber look at the gun and then up to you, the look on that guy’s face strike fear in you, you hand starts to tremble holding the gun. The robber punch Miles straight to his face,this time without his mask the pain makes Miles stumble to the side making the robber charge towards his terrified partner. “Give that to me bitch!” He grab on to your arm so hard that it is starting to hurt, but you determine to keep holding on to the gun.

Miles shake his head to relieve the pain slightly to see his partner and the robber are fighting over the gun, in panic he rush over to them “(Y/N)!”. Suddenly everything turns slow mo, the robber tug the gun hard from your grasp turning it towards you and

BAM!! BAM!

Two shots have been released, a searing pain runs through your abdomen and chest. The blows making you stumble back on your feet a few time before your knees buckle underneath you, you body slammed on the floor. The sounds of people screams muffle and your vision starts to get blur.

Miles look at the scene eyes wide, ‘no,no this can’t be happening’. He rushes to your side in his head screaming ‘Please no, god no no not her too’ his hand hover over the gunshot before he softly says to you “Okay okay I'm going to turn you around baby” trying to reassure you and to himself. He carefully lift one of your side to look at the gunshot to see if it went all the way through, it does. You are bleeding out a lot, loosing blood by the second. He look back to your face to see you are crying and gasping, he hold your face with both of his face, he try his best to hold on to his tears as he choke out the words “Baby listen to me you’re gonna be alright, just hold on for a little longer baby please”.

The robber realized what he had done run out of the cafe, but Miles paid no mind as he is grasping on to you. You feel yourself is slowly slipping away, your eyes locked on to the beautiful brown eyes of your boyfriend. Struggle to breath you choke out the words “I-im scared Miles”. He held on to your hand bringing it to his cheek “Im here baby I’m here” he says as a tear runs down his cheek dripping on to your cold cheek. You know it be the last time you will ever see his honey brown eyes, with a last energy you mustered “M-Miles I-”

Then silent…to Miles everything around him is muffled, he is staring into your eyes as you pass to the other side. Your warm hand is now cold In his, he already misses your voice. He hold your limp body to his chest sobbing as he chant

“I’m sorry”

(Back to earth 1610 Miles and Reader)

For some reason everything went wrong so fast in one day, you and Miles barely survive the spider arm. One after another happened in a such pace you could barely catch up but now Miles have successfully got both of you home,or not. You are waiting patiently on the rooftop of his apartment to help him with the Spot but your eyes widened at the big graffiti on the wall of the other building, when did Mr Morales died? You remember that Miguel says his death will be in two days. The sinking feeling in your stomach is making you panic, you pieces together that you are in a wrong home, in a wrong dimension. The once lively and beautiful city turn into this dark and grimy city,the street that are always filled with people is now silence, you're in a completely different place. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration “Oh shit shit” then you walk towards the door leading to the staircase ‘I have to get Miles!’ as your hand was about to reach the door a voice came from behind the door.

Your eyes widened quickly pressing yourself to the wall blending into the shadow to see who walk out of the door, there walk out uncle Aaron and Miles. Miles on the other hand is scare and worry about you, he left you here for while and promise to come back but after he figure out he is in a different dimension he wanted to run out of his house to get to you but instead he stumble to his supposed dead uncle. “Look uncle Aaron, I gotta uh go” he try to get out of the situation “I gotta go find” his words trail as his eyes land on the same graffiti, his dad is dead in this dimension. Before he could do anything a figure jump from the other rooftop and sucker punch Miles making him pass out straight to the floor.

You cover your mouth as you witness everything play out in front of you, not believing this is really happening. For another dimension you would have thought that uncle Aaron will be the same as your dimension uncle Aaron but no, this guy is something else. You have to save Miles and go home ASAP, you watch as Aaron slung the limp body of Miles over his shoulder turning to the other figure seems to have an exchange of conversation before the figure leap away from the rooftop to another. Aaron on the other hand walk to the fire escape stairs making his way down to the dark alleyway.

You have no other choice, you have to save Miles. You have no one else to call for help. You’re on your own, so you follow behind a few feet away from Aaron. The quiet and empty street is dark enough for you to trail without raising any of his attention, heck the street is dark enough for people in their home not to question the limp body he is currently carrying.

After a few minutes you are in a familiar window of uncle Aaron’s house, you peek inside through the window from the fire escape stair that you once went with Miles to sneak out to visit his uncle. You wait patiently as Aaron have tied Miles to the punching bag with chains and wires, Aaron answers his phone call it seems to be urgent. ‘please go out please go out’ you chant in your head and your prayer is answered as Aaron walk out of the room after he shut his phone, huh that was easy.

You push the window up and goes in as quietly as you can, your eyes glance around the dark room, completely oblivious to a pair of eyes are watching your every move from the beginning. He hope the person that his other self is looking for will be you and you walk right in to him. He got a second chance to see you again,and he intended to keep you here all to himself.

As you walk right under him, the figure dangle himself down with one of his hand try not to make any sudden noise to startle you. Before you could reach to his counterpart, he reach his hand to your shoulder gently hold on to it. You startle by the sudden contact make you turn around to see a purple neon mask staring at you, you gasp out in surprise stumble back on your feet “W-wait!” you are scare of him. You used to love his mask, you thought it look ‘cool’.

Miles quickly hold on to both of your forearm pulling you gently to him, he unmask himself so that you can hear his voice. His voice is gentle “Shh shh calm down mi amada its me” he hold firmly at your forearms taking a few step closer to you. You are scare at this guy, the darkness of the room is making it hard for you to see his face but why is he talking to you like he known you before? And the voice sound so familiar. “W-who are you?”

Miles steps forward to you making you take every each step back until you are pin against the table and finally the light shine on to the person in front of you, that same honey eyes staring back at you. “M-Miles?” you stare at him eyes wide, this Miles looks different he have eye bags, slightly sunken cheek and his hair is shave and braided.

He look at you with a sad smile, you were too stun to do anything as he hold your cheek so gently “Hey mi amada, what happened to you?” his thumb grazing over a little scratch on your cheek cause by Miguel. “W-what did you just called me” you ask but this Miles pay no mind to your question “It’s alright I’m here now I won’t let anything happen to you,not this time”. Your mind is racing, why is he calling you my beloved? Why does he seem to miss you? Your other half is also here…well was here. Your eyes held sympathy at him now “Were you close?”

Miles saddened at your words “What are you saying mi vida, we are close” you shake your head at him taking his hand that is holding your cheek moving it away from your cheek “No no im not her Miles please” he grasp your hand pinning them to the table “We belong together mi amor, you belong to me” he lean closer to you, now chest to chest. You tremble slightly fear of this Miles behavior.

(1610 Miles POV)

Miles open his eyes, his head rings as he try to focus on his vision but as he open his eyes to see you are pinned down by somebody. Miles see your eyes make contact with his, your eyes are begging for him to help. But he can’t do anything but to dangle helplessly. The person pinning her to the table hold her chin turning her chin“Ah ah attention to me mi vida” Miles are even more confuse as to why this stranger is calling you endearing name that only use if you have an intimate relationship. “Please…you have to let me go, I-im not who you think I am” she whimper as you try to move away from the person but he shushed her “Shh mi princesa”

Miles heart burned slightly to see this person calling you different endearing names, its like he is talking to his lover and the tender touches is like he holding a treasure. Miles have been the few person that you trust and comfortable enough for physical touch, the warm hugs you share and the hand holding as you walk together. To see this complete stranger to just touch you it triggers his protectivenes and his, hidden feelings for you. “Hey! Let go of her man!”

(Back to third POV)

Miles lean back slightly a lopside smile tug on his lips before he lick his teeth “So, he’s awake” he still keep you pin to the table. “What so special about him hm? Tell me mi princesa” he reaches over to the side for one of his claw. “Base on the first name term you been calling him, you’re not even together,you’re not special to him” he hold his gaze onto you, hoping for you to understand his side and stay. Your heart squeeze painfully at his words, you two are nothing more than a friend.

“But to me, you’re my treasure, mi amor” his eyes is pleading at you, “He have all this fancy power but he can’t even get you home safe, mi princessa don’t you see? You’re here for a reason, to be here by my side together again”

Miles shake his head ‘no no no that’s not true (N/N) don’t listen to him’, he does care for her, he always have, you are special to him. You have been with him from the beginning, when you stand up to him to Miguel his heart swell to see you will always be by his side even when the others are againts him. He doesn’t want to lose you. “No don’t listen to him (Y/N)” Miles voice seems to annoy this other Miles.

“You’re so beautiful..I have miss your alluring voice talking to me, your soft touches” he put on his claw. “Why would you want to be with someone like him” his voice is lace with venom, he hate his other self to not cherish you like he would.

“Who are you..what do you want from her” Miles eyes glare at the back of this guy skull, he heard him chuckle “I’m” he pause before turn his head “I'm Miles Morales. But you,you can call me the Prowler” the other Miles says as he glare at the dangling spider.

Miles eyes widened to see himself with full on Prowler gear and a braided hair,he look much more mature here. Miles put the pieces of puzzle together in his head,In this dimension he too have his version of (Y/N), after hearing the names he have been calling it seems his other self is truly in love with not only earth 42 version of (Y/N) but from 1610 dimension too. “Look man…I know you have history with her but you can’t keep her here…you have to let us go”

The Prowler Miles walk up to near him “And let YOU keep her?” he raises his claws powering it up curling his claws into a fist “why would I do that” he put the fist beside his head.

You watch the two Miles, one is glaring to the other while the other is looking at the other with an eyes burning with determination. Determined to get you out of here…but the question is

Who will you choose?

(the end)

#miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n #prowler miles #miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader

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strarri · 4 months ago

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i cant wait another year just to see atleast one scene with obanai and mitsuri so i plea for more fanfics of the two…. hi writers!!

ps i love their relationship in kimetsu academy i need more stories for those💗💖

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny mitsuri #kny obanai #mitsuri #obanai #mitsuri kanroji #obanai iguro #obamitsu #obanai x mitsuri #kimetsu academy

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cowgurrrl · 5 months ago

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I Don't Smoke

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Author's note: this hatched as an idea for @tightjeansjavi 's june writing challenge but it doesn't end as I thought it would necessarily but I kinda lurv it so (ps thank you @egcdeath for your help 🫶)

Summary: "Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you'll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you'll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small quiet room." aka Javi makes a reappearance in your life [8.6k (she’s a whopper)]

Warnings: canonical type shit

It's a random Friday in April 1998 when you're walking down the hallway of FBI headquarters and hear a familiar voice call your name. Not just any voice but a voice you came to know as well as you would know your own. A voice you loved. A voice you haven't heard in four years. You freeze in your tracks and take two breaths before you actually turn around to see him.

He smiles big as he approaches you, and you struggle to find the same response. His hair is shorter and styled nicely, and he's wearing a bureaucratic suit, which you know he hates or used to hate. He's broader than you remember and seemingly more confident. You're still tense, but once he's close enough, muscle memory takes over, and you hug him.

His cologne is different. For some reason, that tugs at your heart.

"Hey, honey," he says into your hair, squeezing you a little harder. You hold him for another second before remembering you're at work and let him go. "Wasn't expectin' such a warm welcome."

"Well, that's what happens when you see an old friend for the first time in a long time." You say and Javi smirks, scratching at the stubble on his jaw.

"'Old friend.' Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"It is when I'm at work and have a reputation to uphold."

"Right," he says and puts his hands up in defense. "Didn't mean to insult Ms. FBI."

"What are you doing here? Last I heard, you resigned." You redirect, making him laugh even though you just gave away that you kept up with him even after you broke up.

"Stoddard asked me to teach a few classes to incoming DEA agents. Figured it was a good enough reason to get out of Texas," he says. You step to the side to let somebody go by in the hallway, and that ever-wandering eye falls down your body. "You look great."

"You too," you adjust some files against your chest, suddenly all too aware of how heavy his gaze is, and glance around. "How long are you in town for?"

"A week. We should get drinks or something. Catch up." He says, and you laugh at the absurdity of it all. You're talking like you went to college together, and you're gonna reminisce about the good ole days over a few drinks. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Sure, Javi. When are you free?"

"For you? Any time," he says so easily your heart squeezes. "But, I'm around tonight. I can meet you at the bar across from the Hill after work?"

"That works for me."

"Alright, then. I'll see you tonight." He smiles and looks you over again before swaggering down the hallway and into one of the classrooms like he used to walk to your desk or into your apartment. Nostalgia and something bigger bubbles in your throat, and you swallow it down.

You've often wondered about what it'd be like if you ever saw Javi again.

You never expected it would sting as much as it does.

You force yourself down the hallway into your office and let out a big sigh as you bury your head in your hands. Your engagement is cold against your skin.

You should be planning a wedding. You should be debating which version of white the napkins should be— eggshell or cream— or fighting with vendors on the phone. You should be doing a lot of things in the two months leading up to your wedding. Getting drinks with your ex is not one of them.

You worked at the United States Embassy in Bogotá during the hunt for Pablo Escobar in the early nineties. You were a fresh graduate from the DEA academy and got shipped off the day after you passed all your exams. They needed bodies in chairs and on the ground doing work to end the drug war, and you just happened to have a pulse and the qualification. Javier Peña happened to have those same things. Now, he's known as one of the men who took down the most dangerous crime syndicates in Latin America, but, at the time, he was just Javi.

He was a little older, a little more experienced, and, by all accounts, a little bit of a slut. He had a wandering eye and a bad habit of sleeping with newly minted Embassy employees who didn't know better. You were warned about Javi and his brown eyes and swagger, but you couldn't avoid him. He was your coworker, for Christ's sake. So all you could do was remind yourself you were there for a job and try to ignore him when possible. What they don't tell you about being thousands of miles away from home and dealing with nightmare-inducing horrors every single day is that you start looking for comfort wherever you can find it.

You made bad decisions like smoking cigarette after cigarette, sneaking just a little bit of whiskey in your coffee, or letting Javi bend you over his desk and leave bruises on your skin as he buried himself inside you. One time, you told yourself. You'll do this one time to get it out of your system, and then you'll both move on. As long as it didn't interfere with work, you thought it was okay to fuck him once, but either convenience or care kept you reaching for each other for the rest of your time in Colombia.

You spent most nights at his apartment because it was a little nicer and it felt like it would be too real if he entered your space. For all his sarcasm and hard edges, he was sweet with you. He'd make you breakfast and drive you to work under the guise of carpooling. Over time, you started to learn all his little quirks and tells, and you looked for him first when the smoke cleared and the gunfire ceased. He started stealing files off your pile of paperwork so you'd have less work to do, cook your favorite meals, and was ready with open arms when things got to be too much.

The love was like everything else that happened between you: quiet yet all-consuming.

As the months stretched on and you only grew to love him more and more, you started to imagine a life with him. You were naive and had too much faith in the world, but you couldn't stop yourself. The daydreams of a house with a big backyard, a dog, and maybe a few kids to fill it kept you alive when it felt like not even the weapon attached to your hip could. You wanted it so bad. You told him how much you wanted it, and he agreed despite how fucking crazy it sounded out loud. Love allows you to be delusional to avoid the possibility of rejection.

And you loved him so much that you let yourself believe once Escobar was dead or in prison that, you could go home together and live a somewhat normal life. That he could give it all up. That you could make it work.

So you threw yourself into the hunt. You didn't sleep. You barely ate. You went from smoking a few cigarettes a day to a pack as you got closer and closer. Javi wasn't much better off, and you definitely enabled each other's behavior, but you believed so hard in this future that you thought it would be worth it in the end.

He got snappy, and you argued a lot. You both shut down so much that it's a miracle you could find your way back to normalcy. He didn't even tell you when he got sent to D.C. for questioning. He just disappeared. When you and Steve stood over Escobar's body on a rooftop in Medellín, you couldn't focus on anything but the blood splatter on the shoes Javi got you as an early Christmas gift. At the end of the day, your only thought was, "It's over. We can go home. We can start over. We can make something of this."

Escobar wasn't even cold when Javi accepted a new position in Cali.

Everything he'd seen and done, the things you counseled each other through, the faces that kept him up at night didn't matter as much as that job. He broke the news to you as you were packing up your apartment. "There's an opportunity out there for you, too," he said, looking at you with those big eyes. You almost folded, drowning in affection for him, until you remembered how many times he'd almost died or disappeared without a word or struggled so much he buried his memories between your legs or at the bottom of a bottle.

How could he want to return to that? How could he want you to return to that?

That's when you broke.

You don't remember exactly what was said during the argument, but you know it was bad. There was a lot of yelling and tears. You said things you didn't mean, and he returned the favor. It went on for what seemed like hours, back and forth back and forth, until you were exhausted and done negotiating. You gave him an ultimatum: come to D.C. with you and start your lives, or go to Cali. He chose Cali. You chose D.C., and that was it.

That had to be it.

You didn't talk much in those final days, but you did a lot of crying. The horrors he helped keep at bay threatened to suffocate you. You were a shell of a person, but you couldn't reach for him again, knowing he didn't love you enough to stay with you. You had the tiniest shred of self-respect.

So, the day you left, you gave his stuff back, and he drove you to the airport in complete silence, even walking you all the way to the terminal without saying a word. His final act of care even when you'd told him you hated him forty-eight hours earlier. You waited until the very last second to get on the plane, hoping he'd change his mind or you'd change yours. You were both too stubborn and too broken, so you wished him luck and left. You didn't even hug him because you were so scared you'd never leave his arms if you did.

Things happened fast once you were stateside again. Within a week, you found a nice apartment in D.C., transferred to the FBI, adopted a cat named Astro, and swore off dating. With all your experience in Colombia, you got your pick of jobs and workload. You avoided field work for a while and got stuck pushing papers around at your desk, but you got bored three months in and asked to go back out. Your first case back in the field had you dealing with a serial arsonist who may or may not have had ties to a terrorist group. You were examining the rubble of yet another building when one of the firefighters called your name.

Harry was tall and charming and trying to explain something about accelerants, but all you could do was watch his scarred hands as they pointed. You remember thinking he was going to be a problem. It took three more fires for you to catch your guy, and Harry would later say it took those fires to build up the courage to ask you out. "You were much scarier than any fire," he told you. He had soot on his cheeks, and the flashing lights made his eyes sparkle. There was something about that stupid New York accent that just made you melt.

You thought one date couldn't hurt. You thought it would help you adjust to your new life. When he showed up in a nice shirt with a bouquet of flowers to pick you up for your first date, you knew you were fucked.

You went on a second date. And a third. And a fourth. He was patient with you as you struggled to open up to him about your time in the DEA and never pressured you to tell him anything you weren't ready to. That Christmas, you went home to New York with him and met his parents and all three of his sisters. By the next spring, you, Harry, and Astro moved into an apartment halfway between each of your jobs.

You got into the habit of bringing him cookies when he worked overnights at the station and smelling his shirt when he got home because, more often than not, it'd still smell like smoke. He'd surprise you with coffee or flowers at work "just because" and drag you away from your desk when you've been staring at the same words for however long. When a bullet grazed you in the middle of a chase, he made one of his EMT friends drive him to the hospital you were at in the ambulance with the lights on so he could get there as fast as possible. He made it in seven minutes and started crying the moment he saw you lying in the hospital bed, even though you were completely fine.

For something as unexpected as this relationship, you guys work really well. He cooks dinner, and you wash the dishes at the end of the night. He looks at big houses in nice neighborhoods and humors you even though there's no way you can afford it with two civil servant paychecks. But, when you see him playing with your nieces and nephews, something so deep inside you aches that you think the life-long debt would be worth it if it meant he got to be a dad. You take time off to visit his family, and even though he thinks it's the most badass thing about you, he doesn't say anything about your involvement with Escobar until you accidentally let something slip during a barbecue. When work gets too much, you hold each other, cry, and make promises to stay alive.

He proposes to you on the fourth anniversary of your first date. You knew he would because you'd looked at rings together, but you blub like a baby anyway and almost tackle him to the ground in Rock Creek Park. You're deliriously happy as you celebrate your engagement and even as you start to plan the wedding. It's like you blinked, and suddenly, it'd been four years since you left Colombia, and you're living the life you dreamt about, just with a new person. A person you love so fucking much, you still get butterflies when he walks in the room. The ring on your finger and the way he casually drops "my wife" into conversation when he means "fiancée" only adds to the giddiness.

You can't wait to spend the rest of your life with him. So, why the fuck did you agree to get drinks with Javi?

You pick your head up and dial the firehouse number before your brain can fully devolve into panic mode. They might be out dealing with a fire, but you figure it's worth a shot. On the second ring, Jack answers with his gruff "D.C. Fire Station 19."

"Hey, Jack."

"Oh, hey, darlin'! How're you doin'?" He asks, and you swear you can hear him smiling. Jack is one of Harry's best friends and groomsmen, and he absolutely adores you.

"I'm good. How're you?" You ask, already feeling the weight come off your shoulders just from talking to someone.

"You know, I can't complain. I mean, I could, but I won't," he says, and you laugh. "You callin' for your lover boy?"

"If he's not busy, yes."

"Nah, you're all good. Well, listen, it was nice talkin' to you, sweetheart. I'll get him now." He says before yelling Harry's name through the station so loud you wonder if the neighbors could hear him. There's some shuffling and a quick "'S your wife" as the phone changes hands. The identifier makes you laugh and it's the first thing Harry hears when he presses the phone to his ear.

"Oh, you have no idea how much I needed to hear that." He swoons, and you make a sympathetic noise.

"Rough day?"

"No, I just miss you."

"You're so cheesy," you say. "I miss you too. A lot."

"You okay? You sound off." He asks, and you chuckle. Of course, he caught the tiniest change in your voice.

"I'm okay. I bumped into somebody I worked with in Colombia today, so I just… feel weird," you say, rubbing your forehead. You hear him shuffle like he's trying to move to a more private place, but the cord on the phone isn't letting him get very far.

"Good weird or bad weird?"

"I don't know. Just weird. We're gonna get some drinks tonight and catch up."

"Maybe that'll help," he chirps. "I mean, as much as I like listening to your stories, it might make you feel better to talk to someone who was there. Maybe get some closure."

"Maybe." You say. It goes quiet on the line, but you know he's there because you can hear him breathing and hear the distant sounds of the firehouse. You don't feel pressured to say anything; just knowing he's there breaks up the tension in your chest. "Chief is gonna have your ass if he finds out you're running up the phone bill." You tease, and he laughs.

"I'll just tell him I'm talking to my wife, and if he doesn't want me on the phone, then he should stop making me work overnights."

"Which I'm sure he'll take well."

"You're his favorite. I'm almost positive he'd install a whole phone just for you," he says. It's true, but hearing it still makes you smile. It goes quiet again.

You watch people mill around the bullpen from your office window and chew the inside of your cheek. You should tell him it's Javi. He wouldn't discourage you from getting drinks with him, but he knows your history with him. He should be in the loop. He's going to be your husband, for God's sake. But you also don't need him worrying about this while in a burning building or doing CPR.

"You know I'm not technically your wife for another two months, right?" You change the subject, and he hums.

"Yeah, but it has a nice ring to it. My wife." Even the way he says it over the phone makes you giddy.

"I can't argue with that." You say. He takes a deep breath, and you copy him.

"You're gonna be okay. Go get drinks with your friend and try to have some fun. Maybe invite them to the wedding if you get drunk enough and decide it's a good idea," he suggests, and you laugh at the idea of Javi at your wedding. "I'll be home tomorrow afternoon, and we can talk about it or not talk about it if that's what you want, okay?"

"Okay." You resolve and twirl the phone cord in your fingers.

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Have a good day. Don't be a hero."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He says. You wait another second to have him nearby before hanging up and looking out over the bullpen again.

You could not show up. You could go home, cuddle with Astro, and put on Sex and the City or something else to take your mind off the day. You could go to bed early and take Harry breakfast in the morning. You know his hair will be messy and a little darker than normal, but he'll still smile and pull you into his lap even though the guys tease him all the time about your PDA.

But you're also too interested in what Javi could have to say to do that. You owe it to yourself to get closure or answers or whatever the fuck he has left to offer you.

And then you'll never think about him again.

Easy.

It's a slow day filled with paperwork and pencil-pushing at the FBI. No bombs or killers or threats. Just meetings and emails and the dread about meeting with Javi all day. You linger around the office a little longer than you need to until you're almost late, and only then do you start walking to the Hill.

It's bustling with tourists dying for a peek at the cherry blossoms scattered around D.C. and the Suits you usually see trying to get home. The April sun feels good on your skin, especially after being inside all day, and you take a moment to watch the sun dip lower and lower in the sky.

All things considered, if Javi was going to visit D.C., this would be the time to do it. Spring is in full bloom, and the last dredges of winter only show up at night or early in the morning when it's still cold. People are constantly out walking their dogs or taking their kids to the playgrounds. It feels like the city has come alive again after such a long winter. You come up with a list of recommendations of things for Javi to do while he's here, even though he probably won't do any of them. The least you could do is give him something to distract himself from work.

By the time you get to the bar, the sun has nearly set, and traffic is a waking nightmare. You push your anxiety away and duck into the bar, searching for Javi's familiar eyes amongst the exhausted interns and law students. He's in the corner, scanning the space just like you thought he would, and there's a glass waiting for you at the table. His eyes light up when he sees you, and your chest aches.

He gets up to greet you with a hug and pulls your chair out for you like a gentleman. "Don't know if your order's changed, but I figured I'd make a guess." He says, gesturing to your drink as you settle across from each other. You smile and hang your jacket on the back of your chair.

"Thank you. Next round is on me," you say as you raise your glass to his and take a sip. "How was teaching?"

"It was fine. Although I wish they'd actually listen instead of just staring at me like I have a second head." He says, and you laugh.

"You're a living legend to them. Escobar and the Godfathers of Cali? You might be the most experienced person they've come across."

"I think I'm the person professors warn students not to be in the field."

"There are much worse things to be than a Javier Peña or a Steve Murphy," you say. "Besides, I think the DEA has bigger problems than a few rogue agents."

He shrugs and glances up when the bell above the door chimes, checking out whoever just walked in. He did the same thing when you sat in bars in Colombia like he was always waiting for a fight. You used to tease him about it, but the fact that he still does it makes you smile.

"Steve sends his love, by the way." He says.

"How is he? How old is Olivia now?"

"She's gonna be five soon, and they're about to have another baby. A boy," he beams. "They're all doing good. Steve runs training courses for FBI agents now and sometimes goes back to Colombia to liaise with their government. Connie works at a hospital, and Olivia's in Pre-K."

"Sounds like you guys talk a lot." You're pleasantly surprised. They were good partners, but they could barely stand to look at each other when things got tense. Not to mention Steve leaving the DEA at the same time you did.

"Well, when Olivia started calling me Uncle Javi, it was pretty hard to ignore him," he says, and you 'aw' at the idea of her little hands reaching for him. Uncle Javi suits him. "She's a good kid."

He fills you in on his work in Texas and asks about your transfer. You tell him what you can about your job and the annoying bureaucrats you hate working with. He seems lighter than you've seen before, not just because of the drink in his hand. His shoulders are relaxed, and even though he still has the instincts of someone working in the field, he doesn't get trapped in them like he used to. It's a nice change.

You're almost done with your first drink when he digs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offers you one. God, when was the last time you even bought a pack of cigarettes? It had to have been right after Harry came home from a particularly bad fire resulting from a stray cigarette. Three people died. After that, you couldn't pick up a cigarette without thinking about the seventeen-year-old who got stuck in the apartment. That must've been three years ago now.

"I quit," you say, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"That's new." He says like your hair turned blue before his eyes, but pops one into his mouth anyway. You shrug.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"No, no, 'm not disappointed. Just surprised."

"Yeah, well," you sigh. "American cigarettes aren't as good as the Colombian ones."

"I guess that's true," he says as he flicks his lighter open and inhales until the end glows. Just as always, he politely blows smoke away from your face. "Alright, so you got a new job, a new apartment, a cat, and you quit smoking. What else has changed since I saw you last?" He asks, and your thumb immediately presses into the band of your engagement ring.

Well, it's now or never.

"I, uh... I'm getting married," you say, and his eyes fall to your ring. "In two months." He takes a big sip.

"Congratulations," he says. It might be the most unenthusiastic thing you've ever heard somebody say. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"His name is Harry. We've been together for a few years now."

"What's he do?" He asks in his interrogator's voice, and you give him a look.

"We don't have to do this." You say. Javi takes another drag of his cigarette and grinds his teeth.

"Do what?" He asks. "It shouldn't be hard to talk about if you love him."

"I do."

"Then, why don't you want to tell me about him?"

"Is that a serious question?" You scoff, and he shrugs. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"I already asked you," he says. "What does he do for work?"

"He's a firefighter." You know it's a cliche: a cop and a firefighter, but you don't really care.

"How'd you meet?"

"First field case I had was an arsonist. He was one of the guys on site when I got there."

"Romantic," Javi muses, and you hum. You wait for him to continue bombarding you with questions, but the air gets thick, and suddenly, all you can do is take big gulps of your drink. You signal to the bartender for another, and Javi finishes his cigarette in silence. "Well, I'm happy for you," he says softly. He doesn't seem like he is, but you know better than to press him, so you just nod.

"Thank you," you say. The bartender drops two more drinks off at your table, and Javi raises his glass to you.

"Here's to you and Terry-"

"Harry," you correct, and he laughs, breaking up the tension that's settled. He took the news much better than you expected, but you're still waiting for the other shoe to drop. There always seems to be one waiting when Javi's around.

"To you and Harry and a lifetime of happiness." He says, tapping his glass against yours and taking a drink. "Now, tell me what you've been doing with the fuckin' FBI."

"Oh, you're gonna need to buy me a few more drinks before I start spilling government secrets, Peña." The name rolls off your tongue before you can stop it, and it brings you back to hot Colombian days and red yarn on a corkboard and his apartment. He raises his eyebrows like it's a challenge and smirks.

"Don't tempt me with a good time."

It's late and you're drunk. Drunker than you've been in a while. You didn't mean to. You just kept talking and drinking, and it felt so good talking to him after so long. Once you got through with the elephant in the room, it was so easy to fall back into the groove with him. You talked about Colombia and your lives outside of work. You even tell him the story of accidentally letting it slip that you used to work for the DEA after smoking a little bit of weed with Harry's sister, Caitlin.

You laughed together until last call and then argued over who would pay the tab. "Consider it my weddin' gift," he half-slurred, and you rolled your eyes and let him pay.

Now, you're strolling the empty National Mall, working off your buzz and elongating the time you have with him. You didn't realize how much you missed him until tonight. Despite everything that happened, you did have good days with him. Days filled with music and chain smoking and laughter. You'd like to get those back. You'd like that version of him back.

As you walk, you point out monuments to him and messily retell the stories the tour guide told you when Harry thought a walking tour of D.C. was a good second-date idea. You switch presidents and periods too much to make sense, but Javi listens anyway. Every so often, his warm hand will brush against yours, barely touching your skin but enough for you to notice when he does it. Neither of you say anything about it or break the flow of your conversation. Maybe it's for old-time's sake. Maybe it's because you don't know what there is to say. The night is clear and eerily quiet. The only sound besides your laughter and drunken stories is the chilly wind blowing through the trees and the clacking of heels from an exhausted-looking White House intern as she walks by.

Or, at least, it was until you stumbled across a busker by the Lincoln Memorial. The empty space echoes with the sound of his saxophone, and you smile as you get closer. There are a few other people milling around, and a few take turns throwing coins in his case. You've seen him playing here before, but you've never had the time to actually stop and listen. He's good. You wish you'd stopped sooner.

"You wanna dance?" Javi whispers in your ear, his breath fanning across your neck, and you furrow your eyebrows.

"Here?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"Why not?"

"Because nobody else is."

"C'mon," he tuts. "Live a little." He doesn't wait for you to say anything else. He just grabs your hand and pulls you a little closer to the musician. You sigh but let Javi hold one of your hands and rest the other on his shoulder. He smirks and you roll your eyes to hide the fact that you're shocked he wants to dance. With you. In public.

Sure, you had little moments where you danced in the kitchen, but never in public. Even then, it wouldn't have ever been his idea to dance. He's like a whole new person. You don't know how to feel about it.

What the fuck happened to him in Cali?

He spins you under his arm, and you do your best to follow his lead. You have two left feet as it is, something Harry has helped get out of your system, but the alcohol makes it even worse. You almost trip yourself but land against Javi's chest before you can hit the ground. He makes an oomph sound but doesn't do anything to push you away. You don't do anything to pull away.

The saxophonist continues playing, and the cicadas chirp nearby. If you listen hard enough, you can hear Javi's heartbeat. You think you'd know the sound anywhere. You memorized the rise and fall of his chest when you woke up from nightmares, and he was the one to calm you down. You used to count the contractions of the muscles in his heart until you fell back to sleep. It was often the first thing you heard when you woke up if bombs weren't going off somewhere in the city or your phone wasn't blaring with an emergency message from the Embassy.

And now, here it is again, unexpectedly thumping against you after four years, following the rhythm of the music surrounding you. Javi's warm as he tentatively rests his head against yours, and you feel his fingers flex around your hip. A mixture of his cologne and cigarettes invades your senses, and you can do nothing but ride the nostalgia wave until the song ends.

You pry yourself from Javi to turn and applaud the saxophonist, and he gives a gracious bow. Javi looks a little disappointed that the song is over but drops a ten-dollar bill in the saxophone case anyway.

"Didn't take you for a dancer." You say as you walk away from the Lincoln Memorial, and he shrugs.

"'M full of secrets now."

"I guess so," you say. You start walking toward your apartment, suddenly too cold and tired now that you're a little more sober. Javi follows, putting himself between you and the street and grazing your lower back whenever you cross the road. He's always been protective of you, even before you started dating. It makes sense he would still be, right? You're trying to make sense of the muddled mess in your head when Javi pulls his cigarettes out of his jacket, and you eye them. You must not be as discrete as you thought you were because he laughs at you.

"For someone who quit smoking, you look like you want a cigarette." He says, offering the pack to you, and you sigh. You take one from the middle and put it between your lips. Javi is quick with his lighter, and you lean into him just a little as you inhale. He watches your every movement like he's watching a miracle unfold before him.

You hate to admit how good the smoke feels in your lungs. After three years of not even looking at a cigarette, all it took was an offer and a quick puff, and you're back to the beginning. You'll start again tomorrow.

"Don't tell Harry." You say as you blow smoke away from him, and Javi laughs.

"What? He doesn't like you smoking?" He asks, looking for a reason not to like Harry, and you chuckle.

"It's not that. I've just heard one too many horror stories about a stray cigarette starting a fire." You say, and he hums.

"Is that why you quit?"

"Kinda. I also…" you start but then shake your head. "Never mind."

"What? Now you have to say it."

"You're not gonna like it."

"Try me." He says, and you inhale deeply, blowing smoke out of your nose. You think about telling him to leave it alone, but the alcohol and the pain in your chest tells you to say fuck it.

"I quit because it reminded me of you." You admit. He gets quiet. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and looks up at the stars as you silently spiral. You feel like you need two more cigarettes and a shot of tequila.

Javi has always had a special talent for making all your worst habits bubble to the surface.

"You're right, I don't like that." He says softly, and you nod. You walk a few blocks in silence. The only sounds are your shoes clicking against the pavement and the tiny crackling of your cigarette as you smoke. A siren blares somewhere in the city, and your stomach drops. It always does, but especially now.

Your fiancé is out there, putting his life on the line to save others because that's how good of a man he is, and you're getting drunk and slow-dancing with the man who broke your heart? You didn't even tell him it was Javi. What if something happens to him tonight, and you're out? What if you miss the phone call? Guilt gnaws at your throat like an angry dog, and you feel like throwing up. You swallow hard and stomp out your cigarette before it can get to the filter.

"I'm glad we did this," you say, trying to get things back on track. Javi gives you a weak smile. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"You know, Harry said there's a place for you at the wedding if you want it. I know you'll be back in Texas, but it could be fun. We'd love to have you," you say, and he shakes his head.

"I don't think that's a good idea." He says. You knew he'd say no, but it still stings.

"Just thought I'd ask." You say, and he nods. You're about two blocks away from your apartment, and you start fishing for your keys out of your purse when Javi stops. You keep walking, thinking he's going to finish his cigarette and pull out another one.

"Don't marry him." He says, just loud enough for you to hear, and ice floods your veins. Whatever alcohol left in your system seems to vanish, and you freeze.

"What?" You ask as you slowly turn around. Javi chews on his bottom lip and stares at you.

"Don't marry him," he says again. Something behind his eyes is familiar, and suddenly, you're the girl he couldn't leave Colombia for again. Tears prick in your eyes, and you shake your head. "You'll get bored in a few years, and you'll be stuck if you marry him."

"I love him."

"I love you."

"Stop," you mumble. He takes a step forward and cradles your face in his hands, tilting you up to look at him, and your jaw tightens. You wonder if he can feel it. "You don't love me."

"I do. I always have. I fucked up, and I'm so sorry for hurting you, but I'm here now. We can start over. I'll move to D.C.. I'll do whatever." He says in one breath like he's afraid he'll lose the courage to say the words out loud.

"It's too late." You say, and he shakes his head.

"No, it's not. We can go tonight. Anywhere you want. I-"

"You let me leave," you cut him off, years of frustration and heartbreak coming back up to the surface as you take his hands off your face. "I was drowning and you let me get on the fucking plane."

"I thought that's what you wanted."

"I wanted you to reject the position in Cali and come with me because I really thought you could at least try to love me more than your job."

"I couldn't just give the Cali position up." He says and you scoff and take a few steps away from him.

"But you could give me up," you say, throwing your arms up in defeat. "That's not love, Javi. That's having someone around to play with and throwing them out when you get bored."

"It wasn't like that."

"Enlighten me, then."

"Do you remember when Carillo died?" He asks and you take a deep breath before nodding.

Most of your memories of Colombia are muddled, but not that day. You were pissed Messina wouldn't let you go, but you were fine to let the Colombian police make the raid. Javi and Steve were anxious. You remember watching them stand next to the radio like guards and trying to guess what was going on in their heads. Javi's gaze lingered on you a few too many times to be an accident, and he smiled fondly at you. You joked about them paying for the drinks you'd have later to celebrate. Things felt stable enough for you to sit down next to Messina. You were halfway through a cigarette when the gunfire chattered over the radios.

It wasn't an ambush.

It was a fucking massacre.

They never stood a chance. The scene was horrendous. Hearing Messina call Mrs. Carillo to tell her what happened was worse. Steve, somehow, was able to go with Carillo, so he wasn't alone in transport back to Bogotá. You and Javi were the cowards who went back and drank until you stopped seeing the pile of bodies you felt responsible for.

Javi put his fist through the wall of his apartment when he got home that night. You wanted to cry but knew that if you started, you'd never stop and who were you to be crying? People had just lost their sons, husbands, brothers, and fathers on your orders. You didn't deserve to cry. It was the beginning of the end for you and Javi, but you clung to your idea of the future so hard, it had claw marks on it when you finally let it go and got on the plane.

So, yeah, you remember. You remember it all.

"I couldn't let that happen to you or anyone else ever again. It would kill me," he says. You're about to tell him it's not his fault, and it never was. It was shitty intel. It was a trap. It was a lot of things, but it wasn't his fault. That might be the only thing you can say for sure about that tragedy. "So, I put everything that wasn't work out of my mind and made bad decisions, and that's on me, but I never stopped loving you or believing in our future."

"Then, why didn't you fight for us?"

"I didn't know how. You were so…" He searches for the right word. "Sure. You knew you didn't want to go to Cali, and I couldn't make you stay."

"I would've if you said the word," you say. "Even though I was miserable in Colombia, I would've come back if you asked me to because that's how much I loved you. Even if you'd just called me after I got here, we probably could've worked something out, but I'm marrying the love of my life in less than sixty days. And I've never had to beg him to stay with me or give him an ultimatum and question if he loves me because he wakes up every day and shows me how much he wants to be with me. I can't walk away from that."

"Does he know what you did down there?"

"Of course, he does." You say, annoyance buzzing in your molars, and you cross your arms over your chest.

"Does he know everything?"

"You mean, does he know I've killed people?" You ask. "Yeah, it was super fun trying to explain that to him. You want to hear about how I hyperventilated through the whole thing, or do you want to ask me another question to try to undermine my relationship?" He purses his lips and shakes his head.

"No," he says. "I just don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Fuck you, Javier." You spit. You don't know the last time you used his full name like that. Something about it feels wrong and makes your skin crawl. "You left one girl at the altar over a decade ago, and you think you know about marriage?"

"That's not fair."

"No, what's not fair is you coming here and making me feel like the bad guy for moving on. I deserve to be happy. I've worked, and I've cried, and I've fucking killed for it, and the second I feel like things are going my way, you do this!" You yell.

"I love you." He says again, like it'll change anything. The pressure behind your eyes returns, and you turn away from him, but he catches your wrist before you can. "Listen to me. I love you. I love you. I love you." He repeats over and over again, but all you hear is, "I love you, but I can't come with you." "I love you, but I need this." "I love you. Isn't that enough?"

You rip out of his grasp and punch at his chest with tears slipping down your face. He takes it, still saying that he loves you, and for some reason that hurts more. You push him hard and watch him stumble back, his brown eyes tracking the tears down your face.

"If you really love me-"

"I do." He cuts you off and you take a stuttering breath.

"Then, let me be happy," you beg. "Let me go. Please. If you love me, you'll do that for me."

You feel pathetic, standing there crying like he shattered your heart all over again as he just stares at you and thinks. You want to go home. You want this to end. You want to never see him again.

Maybe in twenty years, you could stand to face him again. You'll be happily married, and you hope he'll be, too. You'll have a few kids, and you'll tell stories about them and Harry will pull pictures of them out of his wallet. You won't hurt anymore. Maybe when your daughter goes through her first heartbreak, you'll find the courage to tell her about Javi. Maybe all this grief will be worth something someday. You want it to.

But right now, you're just the girl he didn't love enough to leave Colombia for, and he's not the man you love enough to marry.

He clears his throat, his own tears glistening in his waterline, and nods.

"Okay," he mumbles. "I'll tell Stoddard I had a family emergency or something back home. Get the first flight back." Your eyes flutter shut at his words, and you try to keep yourself from crying more.

"Thank you." You say.

"I love you." He says again, and you open your eyes. He's grinding his teeth again, and his hands are in his pockets as if he's forcing himself not to reach for you. You give him a small smile and nod.

"I know," you say. "I'm sorry."

Just as you did at the airport all those years ago, you stand awkwardly far apart, unsure of what to do now. He waits for you to change your mind. You won't. He'll get on the plane, and that'll be it.

He nods to himself one more time before turning to walk away.

"You do deserve to be happy. I've never doubted that. I wish I could've given that to you." He says like he's trying to convince you he's a good person. You sniffle and spin your ring around your finger.

"You did for a while. It's just Harry's turn to do that now," you say. "Goodbye, Javi." He opens his mouth like he's going to say goodbye or something else, but you turn your back to him and start walking toward your apartment before he can.

You figure, after everything, it's only fair that you get the last word.

You didn't sleep. You knew you wouldn't. Astro seems to sense your anxiety and cuddles into your chest, purring loudly to try and drown out your thoughts. You reassure her you're okay and kiss her head as the inky blue sky is replaced by a stunning pink and purple morning.

A good omen, you hope.

You force yourself to get up and get ready for the day. It's Saturday and a fire station breakfast day. It's never anything fancy: donuts picked up from a nearby cafe, greasy fast food breakfast, sometimes cold pizza. Today, you walk to a nearby bodega and pick up his favorite breakfast sandwich with two steaming cups of coffee before walking to the fire station.

It's cold, and D.C. hasn't quite woken up yet. It'll be a few hours before life returns as people sleep off hangovers or long weeks. That's okay. This morning is just for you.

The garage door is wide open when you get to the station, and Harry is perched on the back bumper with the firehouse dog, Maisie, whispering things to her. He looks tired. You don't think you look any better, but he still lights up when he sees you, and Maisie even starts wagging her tail.

"Hey there, stranger," you greet him as he pulls you closer and smirks up at you. "You have a good night?"

"No, but it doesn't matter now that you're here." He says. You would normally roll your eyes at his cheesiness but your chest fills with warmth instead. You lean down and kiss him. He smells like smoke but tastes like the chapstick you make him wear because of the heat. Maisie sniffs at the bag in your hand, and you laugh against his lips when she licks your arm.

"I think she's jealous." You say, and he sucks his teeth as he looks at Maisie.

"You have breakfast, you little terrorist." He reminds her but he immediately folds when she gives him that innocent look. "She can have one piece of bacon, but that's it. We need you trim to get up in the trucks, right?"

You pull a piece of bacon off one of the breakfast sandwiches and make her sit and shake before you give it to her. She crunches on it happily, knowing she's absolutely spoiled rotten. She makes space for you to sit next to Harry on the truck and you rest your head on his shoulder. "You okay?" He asks as he kisses your hairline, and you nod.

"Just missed you," you say. "I couldn't sleep last night." He makes a sympathetic noise and wraps an arm around your shoulder to tuck you further into his side.

"Were you thinking about Colombia?" He asks and you hum. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not right now."

"Okay. You wanna hear about why our kids will never be allowed to buy candles ever? No matter how old they get or how much smarter they think they are than us?" He changes the subject easily, and you laugh despite the pain still radiating in your body. You know he'll be there when you're ready to tell him about last night, no matter how long it takes you, and you will tell him. Eventually.

"Hit me with it." You say as you unpack your breakfast sandwiches and pass him his coffee. Maisie wags her tail as you alternate between sneaking her treats and listening to Harry's story. He knows you're giving her extra snacks but won't ever stop you.

You sit there on the back of that dirty firetruck, talking and watching the sunrise together and debating on which version of white the napkins at your wedding should be— eggshell or cream— and know you'd do everything all over again if it meant this was the outcome. You love him with everything that you are and ever could be.

And as you eat your breakfast and soak up each other's presence, you find yourself hoping Javi could love someone like this someday. You believe he has it in him. You've seen it. Whoever ends up being the one to tie Javier Peña down will be lucky and loved.

It just wasn't meant to be you.

#tightjeansjavijunewritingchallenge #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #javier peña #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena imagine #javier pena one shot #javier pena angst #javi peña #javi p x reader #javi p fic #pedro pascal

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choerypetal · 11 months ago

Text

Little Bird / Coriolanus Snow

summary: Being the Capitol's favorites subject has consequences. Consequences that subject to be paired with the most influential man in Panem entirely.

notes **reader is an idol/singer in Capitol's first attempt into making a group for each annual Hunger Games. but with snow's obsession into making you entirely his and with his job as mentoring lucy gray, he tries his very best, but fails miserably.

ps ; english isn't my first language so i apologize in advance for some minor errors and please do not copy my work without credit thank you!

Your connection with Snow encompassed diverse facets. At times, he exuded an irresistible charm, drawing you in effortlessly. Yet, in the next moment, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with audacious intent, as if daring anyone to approach and touch even the slightest expanse of your skin – a challenge few would ever contemplate.

Being the Capitol's favorite came with its own set of challenges. Compliments on your skills or charisma were either sincere or fueled by envy, making it doubly difficult for those striving to surpass their yearly earnings. This aspect of Panem's functioning was something Coriolanus exploited way too much. The artificiality of the stage, adorned with makeup to project an illusion of wealth, highlighted what he found enduring. The ease with which one could become the favorite by merely speaking or moving to the latest musical rhythm was something Coriolanus himself could not keep his eyes away from. And that person was you.

He despised witnessing other men vying for your attention, their eyes lighting up as soon as you entered the Capitol's theater. There was no denying that you were the favorite member among your group. However, during your debut, the spotlight only found you officially when it was announced that the Capitol's new favorite group would be welcoming a new member. Given your position at the Academy, your choices were limited – either mentoring a tribute and risk bringing shame to your family if they lost. Or become part of Panem's newest favored diversion. It wasn’t until the very next day, that many became obsessed with you. And as much as Coriolanus tried to oblige on that single though, he was afraid to admit that he too became a little too obsessed over you.

To compound Coriolanus's discomfort, he had to endure the ceaseless styling rituals accompanying each new album or song released to the public. This entailed donning short skirts and crops, transforming your body into a specific attire as a statue to be admired for hours on end. For the hapless Coriolanus, sitting there was challenging enough, watching you perform with a self-assured smirk, reveling in every bit of skin. How the skirt would flare up and brush against your skin, how he wanted to feel such fantasy. From each moments of your act, while beads of sweat glistened across every inch of your body. He couldn't help but fantasize scenarios from scenarios that you would be his, envisioning the two most influential figures of the Capitol as the perfect pair. And that was only during the ceremony of the 10th Hunger Games.

Post the 10th Hunger Games, a significant shift occurred. Lucy Gray's presence lingered in Coriolanus's thoughts, causing him to perceive you in a completely new light. You were constantly in his mind. Although you though, with hearing the constant rumors of a possible relationship between him and his tribute. While you continued to excel in your performances, earning the success both you and your group rightfully deserved, you were aware of Coriolanus's altered fate.

Once he had been sent back to District 12 after his victor, Lucy Gray, who was also a performer. He remembered occasionally, after the victory ceremony, how you had the opportunity to chat with Lucy Gray. Discovering that your old classmate may have developed feelings for her. As Coriolanus Snow’s proud smirk upon seeing the people he seemingly cared for interacting with each other. Only to be so blind by the fact that you had expressed prior feelings for him, but instead confidently expressed his plan to join forces and visit her in her District wasn’t what you had intended to hear.

While you refrained from expressing any objections, your suspicions regarding the burgeoning emotions between the two of them proved well-founded. Little did you know, Coriolanus engaged in those actions merely to divert his thoughts from you, acknowledging he wouldn't have a chance with you. Lucy Gray became his chosen distraction. Simultaneously, he caught wind of a potential rumor suggesting you were seen intimately with another man. The revelation that this man wasn't him intensified his already pronounced obsession with you. However, this time, Lucy Gray played a role in assisting him.

The revelation of his truth dawned on him only upon his return to Panem. The snake bite's impact intensified, with only your silhouette haunting his thoughts. In this return, he presented a wholly transformed appearance – his hair slightly longer, adorned in his father's old crimson jacket, albeit somewhat intoxicated, attempting to erase all memory of you. What Snow remained oblivious to was your patient anticipation during his absence in District 12. It was Tigris who knocked on your door that very evening, sparing you from the surprise of his return.

However, Snow chose to make his entrance at the stroke of midnight, reminiscent of the times when both of you would clandestinely navigate the Academy. In those intimate moments, he patiently bided his time for the Capitol streets to empty, stealthily entering through your bedroom window. Hours were spent in each other's arms, reveling in discussions about new projects, with his assurances that everything would be alright.

This time, however, an inebriated Snow had a different agenda beyond comforting cuddles for sleepless nights. His primary goal was to solidify your relationship officially. "If you don’t tell her, I will." Echoed Tigris’s voice in his mind upon seeing her cousin return from duty as a Peacekeeper. She was among the few who truly knew about the budding romantic connection between Coriolanus and you. She pleaded with her cousin to go ahead, noting. "She hasn't touched a man since the last time you spoke, you know." That last statement served as a testament to your unwavering fidelity towards him. It was only a matter of time before he knocked on your door that very night.

On the contrary, you took it upon yourself to tidy up the entire apartment. Anticipating Coriolanus's return, you were determined not to leave a single mess, mindful of both his and your own peace of mind. Despite the fact that chaos often defined your shared living space, when in each other's arms, you both found solace in tidiness and tranquility. However, as dinner passed and bedtime approached, you couldn't help but notice Coriolanus's absence. Was he running late, or was he entangled in some trouble that you would only learn about the next morning? Various questions raced through your mind as you attempted to drift off helplessly on the living room couch, with the TV's echo serving as a backdrop.

Coriolanus stood there silently, observing from a distance outside your apartment window. Anyone observing from afar would catch a glimpse of you nibbling at your cuticles – a habit he had learned you indulged in when he wasn't around, a realization that would later make him feel remorseful upon witnessing the marks it left on your fingers. In response, he would tenderly peck each bruise, a silent acknowledgment of your thoughts mirroring his own. However, this time, he chose to forgo surprising you with the cliché bouquet of flowers or any conventional gesture. After indulging in the contents of a second wine bottle before making his way to you, he had no plans of raiding the florist shop either. Knocking on your door with determination, he felt an unusual hesitation, a departure from his past boldness of entering and showering you with kisses. Contemplating the prospect of declaring you entirely as his, especially in his inebriated state, he wasn't entirely certain if you would fully trust his words.

Luckily, you had left the door ajar for him, a gesture he expected. Upon entering, he was met with the familiar background echo of the TV, confirming his assumption that you were already asleep. Nostalgia washed over him as he recalled the mornings spent lounging in bed with you or embarking on early runs for coffee. Despite his aspirations to bring about change in Panem and restore his family's reputation by aspiring to become President, he understood that true fulfillment wouldn't come until he had you by his side entirely. Limping slightly due to the effects of his drunkenness, he made his way into the living room and began to softly whisper your name, until his gaze met your sleeping figure. "Y/N... My sweet bird."

His breath carried warmth that gently brushed against your cold skin. Despite the lingering scent of alcohol, indicating Snow had been drinking before his arrival, your eyes responded to the touch of his finger delicately tracing your cheek. "Coryo…" you murmured his name with a loving tone, reveling in the vulnerability of calling out to him. "Shh… I am here," he reassured you, prompting a soft smile to grace your lips at the sound of his comforting voice. A voice you had missed dearly, compelling you to slowly rise from the much-needed slumber after a demanding day. However, lately, without Snow's presence in your arms, the nights became sleepless and challenging to endure alone. Despite acknowledging this truth, there was a conflicting sensation, a twinge of discomfort knowing that Coriolanus relished the fact that without him, you felt incomplete. It was this dynamic that rendered the two of you an unforgettable pair, seemingly inseparable.

“How I missed you so much.” He continued to say, with seeing your face arousing from your slumber, how he had missed kissing your soft lips each night before going to sleep. If it wasn’t for being a Peacekeeper back in District 12, he’d say he was damn for letting himself kiss Lucy Gray while thinking of you the entire time. “I missed you more, Coryo. Everytime, during performances and even in my relentless dreams.”

A subtle smile played on his features as his fingers traced down your body, an unspoken desire evident in his every touch. His lips yearned to kiss every inch, a longing to finally claim you as his own. He envisioned proudly holding your hand in public, marking you as his and sending a clear message to other men about your ownership. "You want to know something?" The amusement in his voice prompted a soft giggle from you, appreciating his seemingly all-knowing manner of sharing information, despite the evident effects of his earlier drinking. "What, drunk boy?" You playfully teased, noting the light pink hue that adorned his cheeks—a clear sign of his inebriation.

He vehemently denied it with a pout, his lips subtly mimicking a desire for a kiss. Coryo was just touch starved. "You know, I haven't been properly fed with love lately. Coryo has been away from his bird for far too long..." His voice deepened, the intensity of his gaze barely allowing for a blink, making it abundantly clear who he desired: you. An intensifying blush crept on your features this time. Of course you knew your history with him, a caring gentleman who made sure to take care of the one he loved most. But this Coriolanus, objected something in you that you enjoyed seeing probably a little more. To be completely under his control. To bow to his command.

"And as much as I hate to admit..." Your voice took on a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the confidence you exuded in the public eye. Sensing his fingers trailing down your body, from your hips to your lips, he couldn't help but notice their softness, prepared to be pampered at his command. However, he had to restrain his temptations for a moment, feeling his teeth sink into the bottom of his lip. You continued. "I might have been a naughty bird, moaning your name during sleepless nights, hoping you'd come save me from my little cage. You have no idea how eagerly I waited for you to come back."

Honestly, Coriolanus found himself just as taken aback by your confession, despite the obvious history between the two of you. The mere thought of you in bed, adorned in barely anything, accentuating your beautiful form, fingers exploring sensually. The vivid image of you pleasuring yourself, uttering his name amidst a chorus of enticing sounds, drove him to instant madness. Tonight, he was determined to lavish you with everything he could muster—to claim you as his own, leaving marks on your body that not even the most skilled makeup artist could conceal come morning. Without explicitly professing love in the conventional sense, it was evident that Coriolanus and you were destined to be together. In times of need or distraction, both of you instinctively knew where to find solace in each other's presence.

"I want you, Coryo..." you pleaded, your fingers clutching his shirt, the skirt from today's performance riding up slightly. Upon arriving from work, you had removed your underwear just for him—his eyes alone to witness, taste, and appreciate. His hands gripped firmly on your arse, and it was his turn to shift positions, settling onto the couch with you atop him. Your blouse, with a revealing cleavage, owed its allure to Tigris, your stylist. You couldn't help but wonder if the same effect would have been achieved without her touch. Extricating yourself from his grasp, you observed his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. It was a smirk that served as a reminder, and in that instant, you knew that tonight, you were unequivocally his—his and his alone, his cherished little bird.

"I can't wait to finally show my little bird what I can do."

Coriolanus spoke those words with genuine anticipation. It was undeniably the most memorable night, and he intended to recreate it repeatedly. After all, you were his little bird—his to cherish, tourmate, and play with as he pleased.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the huger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagines

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