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bluemerakis · 4 months

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┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ I’m the guy mothers warn you about, the son they’re afraid to have ❞

⇀ Word count: 15k words (sorry ☠️)

Guess who finally mustered up the courage to write a Coriolanus Snow fic, and holy shit, this might just be the longest once-off I’ve ever written.

My dear @quicksilversg1rl , this fic goes out to you 100x over. I hope this makes up for the fact that I couldn’t put Tom under your tree ☹️ I hope that it’s enough that I put him in your dreams instead <3

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WARNINGS:

dom!coriolanus, some out-of-pocket makes-you-go “wtaf💀” Coriolanus moments, smut, swearing, possessiveness, manipulation, toxic relationship, choking, pet names, degradation, edging, lots of italics and dashes (sorry I was feeling myself (not literally you sicko) ), masturbation, unprotected sex, cockwarming, dryhumping/wethumping(?), fingering/fisting, oral sex f receiving, the therapy you’ll need after reading these warnings

‼️DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE ABOVE-MENTIONED WARNINGS‼️

SYNOPSIS:

Coriolanus had always known you held potential to win the games, from the day he’d laid his eyes on you at the 10th annual reaping. You were the key he’d been missing all these years, and how he saw almost every opportunity unlocked by your presence at that year’s hunger games.

The secret of how he’d risen into power? The answer was much simpler than anyone had expected. You. Sure, Coriolanus had done his fair share of treason and murder to contribute to his status, but it was your victory that had granted him access to the Plinth fortune and made his ambitions possible. He wasn’t a man that liked to share credit, but he thought your performance in the games a worthy enough candidate.

To show you just how thankful he was, he’d invited you to live with him after the games, for however long you pleased, and he’d made it his mission to show you all the pleasures the Capitol and his lifestyle had to offer. He liked having you near him at all times, and he liked it even better when he was inside of you.

What he didn’t like, though? When you flirted with other men, especially when it served to get a rise out of him.

Coriolanus Snow doesn’t like sharing, and he doesn’t tolerate disobedience, either. You’d learn that lesson the hard way.

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Coriolanus was a man bred for purpose, like his father before him, and it was a purpose he often reminded you of—a means to keep your neediness at bay, to tame your urge to be at his side every waking hour of the day, a ploy to remind you just how little value you posed to him outside of a night of fleeting pleasure. He marvelled in the opportunity to make you feel insignificant, a false promise too-quickly forsaken the moment your existence captured another man’s desire—a man that wasn’t him.

In the midst of a party he’d rather not have attended, he watched you from a quiet corner of the venue hall, conversing away with a man he hadn’t had the displeasure of meeting just yet. He didn’t know whether you were honestly that painfully oblivious to the desires of the man before you, who clearly wanted nothing more than a taste of one of the renowned hunger games victors, or whether you had deliberately struck up a conversation to get a rise out of Coriolanus.

But when his eyes narrowed on your hand that reached to move a strand of your hair back to the security behind your ear, he knew then exactly which particular game you were playing.

You always did that when you felt subconscious—when you knew you were being watched. It was a tell that Coriolanus had come to identify the more time he’d spent observing you. He’d needed to—it was necessary in order to know the truths you would not tell him. Not out loud, at least. But now, he was pretty fluent in your body language, in more than one way.

He watched you tilt your head to the side in the slightest manner, an act that often sent all the conservativeness of men toppling over the edge. Your lip suctioned into a concentrated bite as you offered small, attentive nods—you were getting him to think you’re interested in what he has to say, pretending not to notice the way his eyes traced your lips and occasionally flickered across your peeping breasts.

The sight stirred an anger in Coriolanus, his fingers tightening around the glass of wine clutched in one hand. He lifted the wine to his lips, taking a sip as though it would somehow quench the imminent fire that threatened to take control of all reasonability. He couldn’t let you get a rise out of him, not in public where he had an image to uphold. Goddamn you and your games, he hated being the one to play it. That had been the fate of you and the districts, not him—Capitol-born and rich beyond imagination. Was this his retribution to pay? Sentenced to your little games after all he’d brought upon you?

You moved a hand to caress the man’s shoulder, offering a sweet giggle. And then there it was, the slightest glance in his direction, fleeting but an obvious beckon for attention. Coriolanus clenched his jaw as you purposefully turned your back on him, his eyes boring into your exposed shoulder blades, framed by a dress that paraded all the right aspects of your body—a dress he’d picked out for you. He hadn’t gone through all that effort to make you look so ravishing, only for another man to enjoy it. It had been for him, a reminder of what his prize would be after enduring this insufferable party.

He’d planned to rip it from you, as mercilessly as he could offer, to toss it onto the floor and you onto the bed, naked and accessible to whatever he desired. However, you seemed hellbent on denying him a good night. He watched you reach for the man’s hand, your motion suggestive as you tugged on him and began to lead him away from the mayhem.

Coriolanus knew exactly where you were taking him.

He watched you weave your way through the dancing bodies, the music falling into the background as he trailed your every move—the way the man blatantly admired the curve of your ass. What an unacceptable circumstance, to think his favourite toy was not his own limited edition—one only he could afford to play with. After all, why had he endured the battlefield of this unfair life to claim a reward that promised power and money and control, only to feel so helpless in his infatuation over you. He hated what primal need controlled him, rendered him incapable of letting you go.

What had it all been for? The poison, the betrayal, the heinous crimes he’d committed—all to prove that he bore no seal of humanity, felt no obligation to love, until you came along, making him look the fool each time you batted a devious lash or wrung those perfect lips around suggestive words. Each time you spoke was like fragments of an enchantment, slowly being made whole and taking its magical toll on his entire being, beginning to claim everything he was—making him obsess, making him weak.

The day he’d gotten you as his tribute, you’d had been nothing more than a mission—a means to secure a prize that would set him for life. But there had been something about you, something that had drawn him in like a sudden whirlpool, now he couldn’t escape the obsession you’d cursed him with. He’d never before felt the burden of caring about another person’s life, needing to know what they were up to at all times.

Coriolanus recalled seeing you for the first time, the day of the reaping, after the tributes had been transported to the Capitol. He remembered seeing you thrown into the zoo display—the way you had instantly found your feet and ran a hand through your hair, made unruly by a rough and sleepless night. Your brows were knitted closely together with unmistakable anger, a look that promised vengeance to the Capitol despite the silence on your lips. Your dress had been made ragged to match your hair, evidence that the bats had showed no mercy toward your pretty privilege. Maybe it had been your looks that had drawn them in, after all.

He’d been ready to deem you a lost cause, disappointed that once again, he’d been stuck with rigged odds. He had been convinced that somewhere beneath that shredded fabric on your skin, you bore the kiss of rabies, doomed to die like countless before you. But he’d seen a few of the other tributes, bearing the same tells of their struggle with the bats in their shredded clothes and tired eyes. One of those amongst the suffering had been your fellow district twelve tribute, Morgan Lark, and he had possessed the worst wounds out of all the affected.

It’d been less than a few hours until the wounded tributes started retching up fountains of white, their eyes glassy and their movements frantically lost on them. Yet there you had sat, watching with perfect control and composure as they had dwindled into mere husks of the people they used to be.

Coriolanus knew then that you had been different—stronger, a tribute that might just prove the risk to be worth it. He’d insisted on investigating the cart you’d been transported in, eager to know the truth behind your journey. Had you truly been strong enough to evade the consequences of the bats? The mystery of it all was pressing enough to consume his every thought. He needed to know. His future depended on it, depended on you.

That evening, after much persistence and a bribe that he honestly couldn’t have afforded, he’d gained access to your cart. There wasn’t much to look at, given that it was nothing more than an empty container, without even the courtesy of a blanket. The scene was almost hauntingly familiar, personal. Nonetheless, he’d paced the walls, eyes searching every aspect of the metal, every dent and hole in the floor. He’d found nothing other than a few rusty nails—nothing interesting, that is until he’d picked one of them up and inspected it closer to find its apex crusted with blood.

A few of the nails were identical in their blood-coating, not a coincidence. Coriolanus gathered them up into his father’s handkerchief, almost regretting the decision as the rust stained the symbolic, white fabric. He placed them cautiously into his blazer pocket, scanning the cart one last time before making his departure. He made a beeline to the morgue, where the bodies of the five infected tributes had been placed shortly after their passing. He needed to see Morgan Lark’s body, to know what secret you could have hidden in his death.

Once he’d gained access to the corpse, he’d pulled back the white covering. A strong waft of formaldehyde greeted his senses and burned his eyes teary. He had been surprised that the body was being preserved, though he didn’t doubt that Dr. Gual had plans to somehow extract and weaponise the rabies in the next games. The chemicals had instantly become so overwhelming that he had to pull his handkerchief from his pocket, empty the rusted nails onto the tray and cover his mouth and nose with the fabric to keep his nausea at bay.

Coriolanus studied the corpse, struggling to contain his pressing disgust as he laid his eyes on the shredded flesh. The bats had gone to town on Morgan, leaving little sections of skin intact. He’d mustered up the courage to get close enough to inspect the wounds, noting that the scratches embedded along his body were not all the work of the bats. No, some of them had been too deep of a wound for a bat’s claws to commit. He had a very good idea of the origins of those wounds, his eyes flickering to the rusted nails on the tray.

He knew then that it was not strength or immunity that had protected you from the touch of death, but your keen mind and craftiness with sharp objects. Coriolanus had pieced together a rough picture of what had happened: you’d managed to get close enough to cut Morgan with the nails, ensuring wounds that were deep enough to bleed profusely, which attracted and encouraged the bats to attack him. You hadn’t been so lucky to go completely unnoticed by the bats, hence the disheveled dress, but you had sure as hell been lucky enough to have been spared from their bite.

What a clever girl you were, perhaps too much for your own good.

Coriolanus had to admit that he’d been impressed by your cruelty—your drive to survive. It gave you an edge, a promising reason to win. He liked those odds, you were becoming a plausible risk to him. Just what would you have been willing to do to a tribute you’ve yet to meet, if you’d so easily betrayed a fellow district partner?

As he’d left the morgue that evening, he couldn’t deny the smirk that had wound his lips the entire trip back. He knew then that, for the first time in all his years as a mentor, this might be the year that he’d finally claim the Plinth prize.

What a worthwhile pick you had been. He liked good investments, and you had proven to be the best one yet. You’d taken that entire game, playing it smart, staying lost in the shadows and gathering what scraps you could make into a worthwhile means of defence. You weren’t the strongest or the most skilled fighter by any means, but you were smart, and that was a quality lost on many of the tributes.

They all marched around, boasting their strength as some sort of show of dominance. They thought it made them ferocious, earned them another hour of life, but Coriolanus knew that it only drew attention, that they were stupid in bringing about a speedier death. You had known that, too.

Coriolanus slipped out of his mind, watching as you’d stopped by one of the tables to grab a snack, making a point to be sloppy so that the strange man would feel honour in being able to wipe your lips clean, spurring on his ego and his erection. You had pulled that trick on Coriolanus many times. He hated seeing you provide that same sort of attention to anyone else.

His attention was diverted to a pair of Capitol business men, who had approached him and were attempting to bombard him with pitches he couldn’t have been more arsed to consider, not when he had something more pressing on his mind—not when you had deliberately stolen his attention away.

How incredibly selfish that you should demand his time even when you were not at his side, or laying below him with your legs spread open and cunt practically begging for his generosity. He didn’t tolerate time-wasters of any regard, so he’d ensure that you made up for it.

He lifted a dismissive hand toward the face of one of the men, who fell silent with a look of indignation, but even he wasn’t fool enough to unleash his temper unto the heir of the Plinth fortune. Had Coriolanus known that murdering his best friend would have come with so many perks, he’d have made a point to bring about that particular death benefit much sooner.

He lifted the glass to his lips, draining the rich wine that had been marinating the depths of the glass for far too long. He beckoned over one of the runners, placing his empty glass onto the tray before turning his attention back to the business men.

He offered an insincere dip of his chin. “My apologies, but I’ve more pressing matters to tend to. Please, do enjoy the beverages,” he slipped between their dumbfounded bodies, before adding, “and the women, if it’d please you.”

Coriolanus manoeuvred his way through the crowd, his eyes not once leaving you, even if he had to watch you relentlessly flirt with the other man. Not only were you good with your hands, but you unintentionally weaponised your beauty, too. He had always thought you to possess an innocence that seemed to frame your features, a natural gift that kept eyes focused on the contours of your face rather than on the schemes of your hands. That had always been your advantage—in the games and in your everyday interactions.

It made him angry that you’d remade his mind in this way. No matter how much Coriolanus tried to remind himself of the purpose he’d been bred for, all that he’d done to get to where he was now, all the people he’d carelessly murdered—there was no denying the truth:

No matter what higher, callous deity he claimed to be, he was only just a man, carved from anger and burdened with otherworldly jealously. All because of you.

Just as Coriolanus had managed to push past the last of the dancing bodies that had been blocking his path, he spotted you leaving through the doors, dragging your new pet behind you. His footsteps were brisk as he made for that same doorway, his fists balling at his sides as he stifled the urge to redirect his anger unto the unsuspecting door man. No, he’d best save that anger for you, transform it into something that would make you suffer, as he’d been forced to endure this evening.

He slipped through the doors, instantly greeted by a much quieter atmosphere, the laughter and music of the event muffled behind the now closed doors. Across the room, he saw you slip into the elevator, glimpsing just a hint of a smirk on your perfect lips as the doors slid closed and engulfed his view of you.

Annoyance pricked at his chest, he’d have to wait for the elevator to come back down. That was too much time gifted to you, time that could easily be used to bring you one step closer to coming undressed for that man. He’d never found himself wishing for a stairwell more than he did right now, but Capitol architecture stupidly insisted that stairs were a concept made only for the districts.

Coriolanus trudged his way over to the elevator, running an impatient hand through his hair as he watched the countdown of the various different floors commence on the monitor. His residence was the topmost floor, an expensive suite that the Plinths had gifted him on his day of recognition. He’d been kind enough to allow you to stay in one of his rooms, to have you in his proximity at all times where you’d more than once enjoyed the free luxury of his lifestyle, and this is how you’d repaid him—by bringing other men into his sacred space.

He couldn’t help but imagine what you were up to at this instant. The thought of you trapped beneath the man on one of the sofas overlooking the city made him bite the inside of his cheek—those were the sofas he’d so often pinned you to, forcing you to admire the view as he admired you, demonstrating his praise for your beauty through the actions of his fingers in your cunt.

When Coriolanus had first met you, he had thought you hated drawing attention, especially when it warranted a much speedier death in the games. You’d always been so reserved, so hellbent on silence as you kept a calculating eyes on anybody who wasn’t you. He’d like that quiet air about you, it was a call for guidance, a plea for somebody to claim your trust—he knew he could have given that to you.

But now, Coriolanus could have laughed at that thought.

You, hating attention? What an odd facade he’d so easily been fooled by—but he’d grown smarter since your first encounter. He knew the real truth now. What a glorious night that had been, the first time he’d taken you to bed.

He could still smell the desperation that had trailed from your cunt as his nose burrowed into your swollen and beckoning clit—the way his hands had squeezed the skin of your inner thighs a faint blue in his attempt to trap them against the bed. They’d been so eager to wrap around his neck, to make him prisoner within your euphoria. He’d shown his disapproval by wedging your thighs further apart, an action that earned a shocked moan from you, coupled with a gasp at the growing aggression of his tongue inside of you.

How he enjoyed being the puppeteer of your body, pulling your limbs every which way until you’d been contorted and opened up for him to exploit. You often needed reminding that you were sentenced to his will, made prisoner to his desires.

He could still feel the faint traces of your arousal that had painted pictures across the sharp lines of his jaw, mercilessly freed by the way his tongue had ravished your folds and plucked from you what little dignity and silence you had managed to fashion up until that very moment. No matter how much you’d pretend to feel indifferent to his attention, your body had always betrayed you—it was unashamedly and passionately thankful to his ministrations.

Your pathetic moans still echoed on a loop in the dark corners of his mind—an ear worm he couldn’t discard of, though he couldn’t honestly admit that he’d want anything of the sort. It spurred him on, serving as a constant reminder of his pretty possession, and just how much you needed him—his touch, his validation, his attention. He was the poison-kissed oxygen that you couldn’t help but inhale, fooling yourself that it would somehow replenish the air in your lungs and give you the freedom of living, existing, all the while your every bodily cell came closer and closer to becoming his. It didn’t take much for him to claim all that you were and all that you could be, only the right words and that glorious goddamn night in bed.

He’d completely remade you in his image, branded you with his bedroom generosity, always leaving you with just enough to satisfy, but never enough to last for more than a few hours. You always came back begging for more.

What an attention whore.

At last, the elevator dinged its arrival, the doors opening to welcome Coriolanus inside. He slipped in almost instantly, moving to press the button of the top floor. When the doors finally closed, he became trapped in the air lingering inside, noticing a trace of your sweet perfume. He’d come to admire that scent, thought of it as a way to identify every place you’d been in. But your sweet scent had fused with the musky odour of that strange man, an unpleasant smell that suffocated your own in mere seconds. He could only imagine that same odour plastering itself to your neck and all across your clothes as the man forced himself onto you, enjoying what didn’t belong to him.

After a few minutes, the elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open to reveal two intertwined bodies at the other end of the lobby. You were pinned against the doors to Coriolanus’ suite, the man’s hands wandering beneath your dress and up your magnificent thighs, shrivelled lips sloppily searching the skin of your neck. Your head was tossed back against the wood, eyes sown shut as you let slip the sweetest of moans, a sound that Coriolanus had claimed as his own.

He barged through the elevator doors, the sound of his angered footsteps earning your attention. You lowered your head to him, watching with a playful smile at what was about to unfold. He ignored it, the satisfaction in that grin, the sense of achievement at your ability to control him, have him trailing after you like a dog on a leash. He’d let you have this moment, to savour its short-lived existence because once he was through with this man, he’d show you just how much trouble you’d caused him.

Coriolanus grabbed the oblivious man at the collar of his shirt, too far gone to think with his brain rather than his cock to notice he’d appeared, and plucked him from you. He shoved the man away, who stumbled backwards with his footsteps serving as clear evidence of mild intoxication. The toad began protesting, before his eyes finally found Coriolanus and his lips clamped shut on a look of realisation.

“You come into my house, drink my wine, enjoy my woman, all without a trace of shame?” Coriolanus snapped, his voice gruff with built-up anger.

The man fashioned an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean any offence, Mr. Snow, I swear by it!” His hands made frantic gestures, eager to exonerate himself. “It was her that came onto me, she invited me back here, suggested we get to know each other better—“

Coriolanus lifted his chin, his glare cold as he stared down his nose at the man. “Are you implying that it’s her fault?” It most certainly was, but if Coriolanus had to endure all that had just happened, he intended to have some fun with it.

The man stilled with a look of uncertainty that passed between you and Coriolanus, his hand moving to scratch the back of his head.

“Are you even a man at all, if you’re so easily influenced by a girl that bats her lashes at you and caresses your arm one time?” He had to ignore the irony in that statement; he could’ve almost been talking into a mirror. “You’re pathetic, blaming your lack of control and better judgement on her,” he said, eyes hardening as he took a step forward, the man simultaneously retreating a step with a gulp.

“Go find whatever excuse of a manhood you claim to have in somebody else’s cunt, and don’t let me catch you back in this building. It wont be words that warn you off next time.” His hands clenched into fists at his side, itching to grab the fleeing man and grace him with a well-earned punch—but he wouldn’t gift you that satisfaction, too.

When the elevator doors closed on the stranger, Coriolanus turned to face you. You were picking at your nails busily, as though the entire interaction had bored you beyond interest.

“What were you thinking?” He snapped at you, inching closer to glare you down.

You glanced up from your hands, offering a mere shrug as you crossed your arms and glanced up at him cheekily. “I wasn’t thinking at all, really,” you admitted. “Just wanted to feel some good things.”

Bitterness found its way onto Coriolanus’ tongue. “Do I not make you feel good enough?” He scolded coolly, his eyes searching yours angrily. “Would you rather I call that prick back and have him stick his two expired inches inside you?”

A hint of hurt seemed to widen your eyes, your expression shaped with confusion. “Didn’t think you cared what I got up to,” you muttered, glancing off to the side.

Coriolanus knew that to be complete bullshit, a feeble play at attempting to settle your own insecurities. He knew what you wanted to hear from him—that you mattered to him, that he wanted you to himself, that the mere thought of another man touching you would send him into inexplicable rage. To an extent, those were all true, but not in the way you'd wanted them to be, not in a way he was capable of giving.

He restrained the anger he felt towards you, knowing that he needed to take a gentler approach. You weren't in a state fit to endure his anger, not now. He needed to coddle you, to keep your emotions intact, otherwise he risked losing you. He couldn't have that.

“I care,” he said at last, moving a hand to grip at your chin. He’d forgotten how soft your skin was, it’d been weeks since he’d been permitted to touch you, business keeping him away from your warmth. He moved your face to his, searching between your eyes and your lips. “And you know that I care, too, or you wouldn’t have put on this little display.”

“You don’t care—not really, Coriolanus,” you snapped, your hand plucking his from your chin. “You constantly remind me that I’m nothing more than pleasure to you, an object you love to parade around, so as long as it’s your name engraved on me.”

Correct, he thought, his hand returning to his side. He gazed at you, the cogs of his mind reeling busily as he cautiously selected his next words. He couldn’t be angry with you, not now when you were so fragilely being kept together by emotion. It mattered what he said to you, even if the words weren’t honest. He knew that you needed reassurance, something akin to love to cling to, to keep you satisfied beside him. The condition that came with having a toy he loved to play with, was having to look after it, to ensure it didn’t break or wear with time.

That was exactly what he had to do with you, so he fed you whatever conniving words he could to keep you indulged in whatever illusion you’d had about your relationship with Coriolanus. A necessary evil to preserve his hold over you. He was selfish that way, but you were far too entertaining to let slip, and he did rather enjoy you—your company and your body.

Truthfully, you did have some sort of hold over him, and he’d let just enough of that truth show to control you, to convince you of his love for you.

“In all my years of existing, I've never once felt compelled to share my life with somebody else," Coriolanus told you softly. He moved his hand to return that same rogue strand of hair back behind your ear. "Not until you. I can't explain it, the way the mere thought of you with another man sends me into an unparalleled rage—to think that he could give you something I couldn't. The thought of somebody touching you the way I touch you. . . It's unbearable, unacceptable."

He placed his hands on either one of your cheeks, lifting your head to face him. His words had too easily buttered you up, moulded your face with a look of infatuation. “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have followed you all the way up here. I’d have let you fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, however you want. But the fact is, I care—a lot.”

You still harboured a certain look of uncertainty in your eyes, those damned eyes that made him go feral. He could tell that you wanted to believe him, but you had reservations that he hadn’t yet satisfied with his words. He needed to say more, do more.

“Do you see me chasing after any other girl the way I chase after you?” He pressed on, grabbing your face a little more ferociously, just to sell the point. “You’ve consumed me, reduced any ounce of respect I’ve once had for myself to nothingness. I could’ve had you pawned off the Capitol after the games, to do whatever bidding they demanded of you, but I chose to keep you by my side, to spoil you with everything you deserve for winning the games. Tell me one person who’d be willing to do the same for a district nobody that they held no care for?”

Your eyes had grown teary at his words, your bottom lip quivering beyond your control. You had meant to look tougher, Coriolanus could tell, unmoved by his words, but you were only just a naive girl burdened with the need to be loved. So you believed it, every poisonous word dripping from his lips—lapped it up hungrily like a douse of honey, in fact. Perfect. He was gaining back your trust.

You caved into Coriolanus, his hands falling from your face to wrap around your body and keep you against him. His one hand curled around the nape of your neck while the other wrapped around the small of your back, so perfectly shaped to accommodate his arm. How could he be convinced that you were not made just for him, when every aspect of your body seemed to be carved just for his touch? The hand on your head began to move with rhythmic strokes across your hair, his lips moving to place a kiss on the crown of your head. He rested his chin where he’d placed his kiss, as though sealing in the sensation, before he spoke up.

“You were incredibly selfish tonight,” he murmured. You pulled back subtly to glance up at him with slightly furrowed brows, and he lifted his chin from your head to gaze back at you impassively. “You put me through hell, making me watch as you flirted with that man, touched on him all over as you promised him sex. Do you think that was fun for me?”

Your eyes glinted with a hint of guilt, your lips parting with a soft no.

“No,” Coriolanus agreed, his eyes undeniably annoyed as he glared at your guilt-ridden expression. His fingers ventured along your back, finding the zip to your dress, the only thing keeping your body prisoner in the fabric. He tugged at the zip, harshly at first, his need to punish you poking through his actions, but he had to refrain from that for the time-being. More slowly, he began to pull the zip down your body. “I think it only fitting that you should be punished for your little games, don’t you agree?” His eyes flickered back up to yours coolly, almost challenging you to disagree.

The fabric of your dress grew loose on your body, the straps beginning to slide along the slope of your shoulders. You glanced up at him in silence, not wanting to admit the words, but the neediness on your expression told him that you were all game for your punishment—not that it ever was something unpleasant. Coriolanus was always generous when it came to putting you in your place.

“Glad we’re on the same page, dove,” he said, the dress releasing your body at last. It pooled onto the floor around your heels, leaving you barren save for the bra suffocating your breasts. He glanced down at your lower half, faintly surprised to find that you’d neglected the courtesy of wearing any underwear.

"Was this supposed to be an apology?" He asked, glancing back at you through a charming smirk.

A smile broke through onto your lips. "I thought it'd make undressing me quicker," you replied, lowering yourself to remove the heels from your feet. You were glad to be free of that hell. They made your calves look good, but they were torture on your feet.

"Well, aren't you considerate?" Coriolanus responded, then paused before adding. "So you knew how this night would end, with you and I nothing but a sexual amalgamation?”

"It was more of a hope,” you replied as you straightened yourself up.

Coriolanus' constraint gave in at your insinuations, his hand moving to caress your cheek, his eyes lowering to your perfect lips that he craved to taste in that very moment. You reached up to deliver the unspoken need onto his lips, but he kept you grounded with a hand around your collarbone. "You're not kissing me with those lips," he told you. “Not after that prick has wiped his saliva all over you.”

His hand left your body to reach into his blazer pockets. He pulled out a key, his hand snaking around your waist to slip the key into the door hole. His face was intentionally leaned close to yours, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of concentration as he struggled to unlock the door, and because he could smell the man’s cologne clinging desperately to your skin. He’d need to take care of that before the evening could proceed, it was a detrimental hinderance to his cock. At last, the doors gave in with a loud click, and he pulled the key from the lock.

He leaned back with a curt beckoning of his chin. "After you,” he said, placing the key back into his blazer, his eyes not once neglecting yours.

You gave him a long stare, almost daring to be disobedient before you clearly thought better of it. You bent over to collect your dress and your shoes before turning to push the doors open. Coriolanus dropped his attention to your ass, which practically begged for his approval as it bounced with your every step. He entered inside after you, closing the doors behind him.

You ventured a few steps into the well-furnished living room of the suite and tossed your clothing onto the nearest sofa, your eyes trained on the glass walls that offered a breath-taking view of Panem. You’d always marvel over the cityscape as if it was your first time seeing it, but in all honesty, it was the fact that the lights of Panem fashioned a different colour each night, and it always seemed to illuminate new buildings and views that you’d never noticed before.

Coriolanus watched you, your hand absentmindedly reaching to hold your elbow as you admired the view—one that you’d already seen countless times before, he thought. He wondered whether you were contemplating your circumstances in this instant, as if the reality of what you’d done had finally started to sink in, and what the consequences to follow would be. He could read you fairly well, but there were still moments that your thoughts were lost on him.

“Are you scared?” He asked, his voice echoing throughout the empty space.

You turned to face him, your hands falling to your side. The lighting was dim, but the amusement etched onto your features were clear. “Scared? I didn’t survive the games only to be scared of you, Coriolanus Snow. Besides, this is hardly our first rodeo. I can’t imagine there’s much more surprises you could spring on me.”

Coriolanus cocked his eyebrows, smiling at those words. He appreciated your effortless wit. Most of Panem’s ladies were annoyingly submissive in their conversation, saying only what they thought he wanted to hear, as though it’d make them more desirable to him. You didn’t need to be told what to say, you just said it, and he was glad for it. Control could be exhausting, especially when he strove to maintain it in almost every aspect of his life. It was refreshing to know that he didn’t have to control your personality, too.

“Good,” he said, inching closer until he could reach out a hand to grab your arm. He turned you around forcefully, cool fingers teasingly tracing the skin of your shoulder as he made his way down to the clasp of your bra. He undid the hook, freeing your breasts from the pretty white lace, before tossing it onto the sofa beside your other discarded items. He turned you back to him, his eyes instantly lowering to the hardened nipples crowning your soft breasts. “Somebody’s eager,” He jested, his voice a soft rumble as his eyes rose to meet yours. “Did you want something from me?”

“You know I always do, Coryo,” you responded, taking your lower lip into a subtle bite.

Coriolanus’s eyes hardened at that nickname. “Don’t call me that,” he demanded. That version of himself had died a long time ago.

Your eyebrows cocked at his tone, your lips momentarily pursed before you asked, “should I call you Mr. Snow instead?”

“Just Coriolanus,” he replied, rolling his shoulders to remove his crimson blazer. Your eyes were stalking his every move. He could tell that you wanted nothing more than to reach out to what little clothing remained on his body and tear it away mercilessly—that you wanted him to take you right here at this very instant. But he was faintly impressed at your patience as you decided against any reckless action, instead opting to wait for his next command.

He folded his blazer and draped it over his arm, his free hand beckoning for you to follow him to his bedroom. “Come on.”

Your eyes followed his footsteps, your disbelief keeping your feet glued to the ground. Coriolanus glanced over his shoulder when your footsteps didn’t commence behind him. Your reaction was justifiable. He’d never once once invited you into his room in all the months you’d lived with him. He knew that you were foolishly thinking that this moment marked an intimate milestone in your relationship, that this act was an attempt for him to show just how much you meant to him.

“Problem?” He asked.

You willed away the dumbfounded look on your face, offering a half-hearted no as you caught up to Coriolanus. As if the sentiment was fragile, you merely walked ahead of him in silence, afraid that one wrong word would revoke the invite.

He trailed behind you as you approached the door to his bedroom. You tossed a glance over your shoulder as you sought out confirmation in your actions. Coriolanus gave a small nod, an encouraging smirk poking through. You smiled back, turning your attention to opening the door. You slipped inside, your attention instantly flying to the furniture that occupied the space. It was modest, very limited to necessities.

The bed, needlessly big, was slightly undone, the comforters left untidy as though he’d just climbed out of bed and the covers half pulled from the pillows—a picture frozen in time. A plate and a mug was stacked onto the bedside table, the previous day’s clothes draped across the sofas near the windows. Your eyes were fixating every detail around the room, as though burning a mental picture into your mind as a souvenir for later.

Coriolanus moved to place his blazer beside his other clothes on the sofa. “Sorry for the mess,” he offered, moving to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. “As I’m sure you know, I don’t usually have the worry of entertaining guests.”

You turned to face him, your eyes lowering to his skilful fingers. “I like the mess,” you responded, making your way over to him. “It feels personal, seeing this side of you—allow me to.” You shooed his hands off the waistcoat, taking his place in undoing the buttons. You glanced up at him seductively, your eyes flickering down to his full lips.

He watched you undress him, slowly but surely, knowing that he could’ve done a much faster job. But he allowed you to take on the role, knowing that it made you feel important, that your body would show him just how thankful you were and how much these little details meant to you. Once you had unfastened the last button, you removed the waistcoat and admired his toned and broad physique, painfully concealed behind his white shirt.

Coriolanus glared at your wandering eyes, wondering whether you were trying to picture him naked. He’d never been fully undressed in all of their little rendezvous, it was something far too intimate for him. And there had only been a few occasions where he’d fucked you with his cock and not his fingers or his mouth. He’d found himself deriving the utmost pleasure when he got to solely focus on how you came undone for him, how powerful his every movement upon you really was.

When your hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, he grabbed at your wrist. “Not yet,” he told you. “You still reek of him.” You frowned at his words, your hands falling to your sides in disappointment. “Come with me,” he said, moving past you toward the bathroom. “We’re going to take a little bath.”

Your interest peaked at his words. “We’re going to bath together?” You asked curiously as you followed after him.

“You’re going to bath,” Coriolanus corrected as he reached the large alcove bathtub. He leaned over to turn on the tap. “I’m going to watch.” His hand trailed the many soaps and balms that lined the rim of the bathtub. He’d made it a mission to collect every scented product he could manage once he got his hand on the money, simply because he could, and he liked smelling good.

“Sounds perverted,” you shot at him, crossing your arms as you watched him draw your bath.

He grabbed ahold of a rose-scented oil and began pouring it into the water. “You didn’t agree to live with me because of my normalcy,” he said distractedly. “But because you knew just how much my so called perversion had to offer your pathetic, little, touch-starved body.”

He tossed a glance at you over his shoulder, satisfied by the red gleam that had snuck onto your cheeks. He turned his attention back to the tub, reaching for a bottle of bubble bath. He began adding it to the water, a few droplets reaching up to stain his shirt.

“In any case,” Coriolanus continued. “It’s the least you could do for me after tonight’s shit-show.” He placed the bottle back against the wall, closing the tap once the water had reached an appropriate level. He unbuttoned the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, taking a few paces back. He jerked his head at you. “Go on,” he demanded.

You unfurled into a dramatic stretch, parading your breasts as you faced him. “Join me.”

He fixed you with an unwavering stare, not so keen to play into another one of your games. “Get in.”

With one last glare, you turned and dipped one leg into the bath, instantly pulling back with a hiss. Your head snapped to face him. “It’s too hot,” you protested.

Coriolanus moved to retrieve a chair from the corner of the bathroom, placing it a few inches from where you stood. He sat himself down, offering a mere shrug to your words. “Good observation.”

“I’m not going to burn myself bloody just so that you can get off,” you spat.

“Then let’s kill some time while we wait for the water to cool down,” he suggested, his eyes once again tracing over every inch of your exposed body with keen interest.

You looked open to his request. “What did you have in mind?”

Coriolanus’s eyes flickered back up to you. “Touch yourself,” he said earnestly. You paused at his words, suddenly looking self-conscious, before you hesitantly began to caress your breasts. He watched your fingers squeeze and grope at your skin, imagining that it were his own hands in their stead, only he’d be a lot less kind in his touch. Your fingers trailed teasing circles around your nipples, further hardened at your own toying and his intense observation.

“Lower,” he ordered, feeling frustrated at your lack of venturing into your lower extremities.

Your eyes glinted at him, a look that seemed to say greedy. Yes, he was. Who could blame him? He’d grown up starving for most days of the year, now he’d take as much as he wanted.

His eyes fixated the hand that lowered in a painfully slow motion across your stomach, reaching that sweet spot housed between your legs. As your fingers began to fondle with your clit, you threw your head back with a pitiful moan. He knew he could’ve extracted a louder sound. He almost felt obliged to take over, but he had to remind himself that you were undeserving of his touch, that you needed to be punished with the urge to feel him, yet be denied that pleasure.

A few minutes of your fondling had passed before your ministrations eventually became too overwhelming to maintain control over your body. You lowered yourself to the bathmat, your hand not once leaving your cunt. You spread your legs open, offering a broader view to Coriolanus. Your eyes were glazed over as you glanced at him. He tilted his head slightly in approval, feeling his own cock growing interested at his view of your pathetic situation.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” he praised, noting the way your eyes lowered to his pants. He parted his legs slightly to take the pressure off of his growing erection, eager to hide his arousal. He didn’t want you to notice just yet how much he was truly enjoying this. Your movements eventually became more erratic, incoherent sounds spewing from your lips.

“I need you, Coriolanus,” you managed to blabber out, your tired head resting onto the rim of the bathtub, eyes periodically fluttering closed as you alternated between consciousness and whatever universe of pleasure was found behind your eyes. “Please,” you begged.

“You’ll have me soon,” he said, “when I see it fit.”

“I’ve been good for you,” you protested breathlessly. “I’ve done everything you told me to.”

“You have a lot to atone for,” Coriolanus pointed out, his eyes lowering to where your hand had slowed its movements. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

You glanced at him past your tired lids, but you obliged nonetheless, adding a finger inside of your cunt to increase the pressure. He supposed it was fair, if he had refused to place his own fingers inside of you. He couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto lips as he watched a stream of white begin to trail from your opening, recalling how good you tasted. It was a shame, really, that it would go to waste onto the bathroom mat instead of onto his appreciative tongue. From the sound of your pathetic mewling and your ragged breathing, Coriolanus knew that you were growing close to your high. He didn’t intend for the fun to end just yet.

“I want you to continue until you feel like you’re going to cum,” he told you, though he wasn’t sure you’d heard him past you own noise. “And then I want you to stop just before that happens.”

“That’s mean, Coriolanus,” you managed to say.

“You haven’t seen mean yet, dove,” he said. “Now stop talking and focus.”

Your fingers picked up their pace with a newfound eagerness, the knot in your stomach growing inescapably larger, the urge to come undone becoming harder and harder to contain. Coriolanus wasn’t sure you’d obey his command at this point, you looked too far gone to resume control over your own actions. His eyes narrowed, watching closely at what fate you’d choose to follow. Much to his disappointment, you practiced constraint, your hips shooting up with anticipation, only to sink to the floor as you denied yourself the orgasm.

You glanced at Coriolanus past your teary lashes, a silent request for praise. He heeded your need, rising from his seat to crouch beside your slumped figure. He combed the loose hair from your face, wiping away the beads of sweat that dotted your forehead.

“You’re too good for this world,” he murmured sweetly. He felt as though he could have choked on the banality of his words, but the soft look in your eyes as you gazed up at him made it worthwhile. He nodded to your hand, still resting on your cunt. “Show me how good you felt.”

You pulled your hand from its playground between your legs, creamy white webs entangled on your fingers. They pulled a string along your stomach as you lifted your fingers for Coriolanus to study.

“It almost looks like you don’t need my help,” he chuckled, his hand fastening around your wrist to bring your fingers to his lips. His blue eyes bore down into you as he took each of your fingers into his mouth. One by one, his tongue hungrily weaved around them, claiming your juices from your skin.

You gazed at him with a wild look ablaze in your eyes. “Don’t I deserve a taste?” You said. “After all, I did all the hard work. I deserve to taste the fruits of my labour.”

“You should be modest,” Coriolanus said once he removed your fingers from his mouth. “Nobody likes a brag.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” you retorted lightly, your eyes glinting with exhaustion. “I like you.”

“Mhm,” he offered softly, placing your hand gently onto your chest. He reached his hand between your legs, an action that caused your thighs to stiffen around him. “Relax,” he cooed, pressing his palm into one of your thighs, encouraging you to open up to him.

“Sorry,” you said, easing off the defensiveness. “I’m sensitive down there at the moment.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, gazing at your fragile expression. Fuck, he could take you right here. His fingers moved with caution as they glided along the folds of your drenched cunt, gathering up your cum into untidy clumps. He followed a trail of arousal that had traveled down into the cleft of your ass, pressing a teasing finger into your asshole.

You gasped at the sudden invasion, and Coriolanus’s throat rumbled with a chuckle. He removed his fingers and brought them to your lips. You glanced at his slender fingers, not needing much convincing to take them into your mouth. You turned your attention to him as you began to suck at him suggestively, exaggerating your head bobbing as you made a point to cover the entire length of his fingers.

He watched you with a lopsided smirk, enjoying the whore-like behaviour you so willingly offered him. Now and again, he’d thrust his fingers a little too deep, more than what your throat could handle, which caused you to gag around him. Strings of your saliva had begun to slither down his exposed forearm, pleasantly warm on his skin. He imagined his cock in the stead of his fingers, enjoying the same warmth and wetness your mouth had to offer.

When you’d decidedly had enough of licking his fingers clean, you pulled your lips from him with a characteristic pop. Coriolanus reached that hand over the bathtub, dipping it into the water to feel its temperature. It had cooled down considerably, but it was still warm enough for a worthwhile soak. He withdrew his hand and wiped his fingers onto his shirt.

“The bath will get cold soon,” he told you. “Get in.”

“Is that all?” You asked disappointedly.

“Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll show you what I’ve got in stock for you.” He straightened up and took a few paces back as you perked with new resolve and found your feet.

He backed up to reclaim his position on the chair, crossing his legs as he watched you. Your back was momentarily on him as you climbed into the bathtub, the water sloshing a welcome. You submerged yourself into the warmth almost instantly, a content groan reverberating in your throat. His eyes lowered to your hand, which had began to spread the foam of the bubble bath across your bare chest and breasts.

“The water’s so good,” you murmured.

“Don’t get too relaxed,” he warned.

“Why don’t you join me, Coriolanus,” you said, your eyes fluttered open as you moved to fold your arms onto the lip of bathtub. You rested your chin onto your arms, glancing at the erection he could no longer conceal. “I’ll take good care of your little cock, that should keep me on my toes.” Your expression beamed at your choice of words, deliberately chosen to get a rise out of him.

Coriolanus merely scoffed at your teasing. He had many things to prove, but the size of his cock was not one of them.

“You sure you could handle me, since you’re still so sensitive down there?” He asking mockingly. He leaned back into his chair, his hand coming up to clench his chin, the other grabbing his elbow.

You tilted your head prettily to one side. “Only one way to find out,” you murmured, leaning back against the wall of the tub as you kicked your foot out and onto the edge. Water splashed partially onto the bathmat, but most had been caught by the bare floor.

Coriolanus lowered his eyes to the puddle. “You’re making quite a mess for someone who’s been in here for less than half an hour.”

“Give me an hour and you’ll see just how much of a mess I can make,” you challenged.

He lifted his chin to face you, his eyes narrowing the slightest. This side of you was something he’d never experienced before; you were a lot more daring, undoubtedly brought on by the importance you felt at being allowed the opportunity to bathe in his bathroom and in his company. He’d like to test just how long you could keep up this illusion of bravery, and how quickly you’d drop it when he had you sprawled onto his fingers.

“Come here, then,” he said, uncrossing his legs and spreading it as an invitation for your thighs.

Your eyes snuck a peak at his hard on before you broke away from your slutty pose and climbed from the warmth of the tub. You took a few steps toward Coriolanus, water and soap slithering down the curves of your body and onto the floor.

You stopped short of his legs. “You’re sure?” You asked, eyes making a point of the shirt and pants he still wore. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with a little less on?”

Coriolanus grunted from a place of impatience, reaching out his hand to grab at your wrist. He pulled you into his lap, rough hands guiding your hips to comfortably straddle his clothed thighs. The soapy water coating your body began to bleed into his clothes, his pants the most affected, but he could hardly be arsed in this moment. He just needed to feel you, needed to use you. His fingers gripped at your thighs, his heavenly blue eyes boring down onto your strained expression as he began to forcibly guide your bare cunt over his bulge.

Coriolanus’s movements set a generous pace, endorphins bolting through your core each time his bulge struck your sensitive clit. The texture of his pants was harsh on your skin, creating a friction that seemed to generate copious amounts of heat—screw sticks and stones, this method of fucking could have started all the fires in the world. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lower half instinctively beginning to cooperate as you rocked back and fourth in sync with his guidance.

Your head came to rest in the chiselled crook of his neck, his earthy fragrance fucking heaven-sent on your senses, further engulfing you in bliss. His throat vibrated against your ear with strained moans, they came as subtle grunts that prompted his hands to speed up the pace. He was so eager to feel you, to settle his drawn-out erection. You winced as his fingers burrowed into the skin of your thighs. He’d neglected all caution in your handling, his need to control your movements overpowering what slither of consideration he’d held for your comfort.

It didn’t take long for the stinging sensation to blend with your pleasure, slurred moans pouring from your lips as you felt cum begin to leak from your entrance. It lubricated the fabric of Coriolanus’s pants, offering some relief from the coarse material. You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your face into his shirt, eager to muffle the mewls of pleasure you seemed to have zero control over. His chest rumbled with a breathy fuck, and you felt his body momentarily convulse with the overwhelming feelings your bodies shared.

You turned your head, your nose brushing against the skin of his neck. Your eyes fluttered open, drinking in the view of his adam’s apple, so prominent and manly. It bobbed as Coriolanus swallowed a moan. You brought your furthest hand forward to hook the side of his neck, pulling him against your lips. He didn’t resist, it’s almost as though he was too focused on his own work to pay attention to your own dealings. You littered sloppy kisses all across his neck, placing extra emphasis around his adam’s apple. You kissed all around the bulge before giving into your thoughts and dragging your tongue over it, leaving a sloppy trail in your wake.

The warmth and wetness of your tongue on his throat made Coriolanus release an unexpected groan, a hand leaving your hips to wrap around your throat. You let slip a chuckle at his action, and he held you out in front of him, his cold eyes glaring into yours as he decided to brutalise his movements. You moaned loudly, the sound strained as you forced it past his suffocating hold on your neck.

“Coriolanus,” you choked out breathlessly, your hands sliding along his broad shoulders. “I need you inside of me.”

“You’ve waited this long,” Coriolanus muttered. “You can wait a little longer.” His hold on your throat grew tighter, your vision starting to blur behind a mixture of fresh tears and your compromised oxygen.

He watched your eyes flutter closed and your teeth clench as you inched closer and closer to your edge, your nails digging through his shirt and into his shoulders, steading yourself against his aggression. His singular hand on your hip began to cramp at his incessant groping and steering, but he was beginning to feel his own orgasm approaching, and that was motivation enough to push through—that, and your whorish desperation.

He released his grip on your neck, the air returning to your lungs as a cough and a splutter. He hooked the nape of your neck and pulled you into the comfort of his shoulder, urging you to rest your tired head there as he finished you both off. With both hands once again firm on your hips, he picked up the pace. He rested his chin onto the crown of your head, his eyes fluttering closed as he allowed the scent of your conditioner to swallow his senses.

With each movement, he brought you down harder onto his cock, craving rougher strokes. The squelching of the cum coating your folds and spreading along his pants was music to his ears, and he gritted his teeth to bite back his ragged breathing so that he could continue to hear the way he’d transformed your cunt. He could feel his own pre-cum trickling from his tip, the warmth spreading along his shaft by the generosity of your wet folds. Fucking hell did he yearn to be inside of you, almost as much as you craved him, but he had to be stronger than his own desires.

It didn’t take long before every nerve tracing the length of his cock began to fire rapid impulses, the prolonged stimulation proving to be too overbearing. His lips parted with strained breaths, the black abyss behind his eyes beginning to birth a cosmos of anticipatory stars. The image built and built until he thrust you one last violent time along his cock, his hips rocking up into you, delivering just the right ounce of pressure before white engulfed his vision.

His grip on your hips loosened, his ears buzzing with the aftermath of his high. He hadn’t even realised that you’d come undone before he had, your whimpers and vulgar pleas lost in his concentration. The only evidence of your orgasm was the new patch of wetness that had marked his pants, a generous mixture of squirt and cum.

Your breathless voice sounded at his ear as you moved your head from under his chin. “I want to feel like that all the time.”

“That can be arranged, dove,” he chuckled hoarsely.

You felt his hand leave your hip, the skin there instantly growing cool. He dragged his fingers repeatedly along the wisps of your hair. It was as though he were petting a dog, only his touch was a lot gentler and more intimate. You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, your lips parting with a content sigh as you waited for the ecstasy of your orgasm to dissolve. You rested your chin on his shoulder, listening to the calm of his breathing, focusing on his hand caressing your hair.

You pulled back to glance at him, his eyes questioning as he returned your stare. Your attention moved to his lips, they looked so soft and plump, not nearly red enough. You’d been robbed of the opportunity to nibble on them, to contort them between your own lips, to taste the wine he’d downed at the party. You didn’t think you’d be properly satisfied until you got your wish. Did that make you ungrateful?

Coriolanus offered a faint smirk, your thoughts loud and clear. How selfish of him, he’d forgotten to kiss you during your little ride. Not a train-smash, he had the entire night to make up for that. His hand on your hair tightened there, forcing you into his vicinity. You wanted to protest at the hairs pulling at your scalp, but you hadn’t gotten the chance, not when his lips silenced yours in a hungry tumble.

He didn’t kiss you as often as you would’ve liked, but when he did, it was always imbued with passion, his movements erratic like he’d been starving and you were the first source of food he’d encountered in days. You got lost in the movement of his lips, the pace so fast that you couldn’t properly match it, though not for lack of trying. You allowed yourself to be swept up in his kiss, accepting that he was in control.

Coriolanus moved his hands to grab ahold of your breasts, his attention marvellously divided between fondling them and tracing his tongue along the inside of your mouth. You moaned into him, the sound muffled and lost to your entanglement. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, offering a sharp nip that caused you to wince in surprise. You felt his lips broaden in a smug smile, his hands neglecting your breasts and trailing a seductive path down your waist to deliver a crisp spank to your ass.

The skin stung where he’d struck you, but he was so quick to soothe the ache with gentle rubbing. The curves of your ass fit so perfectly into his palms. He pulled his lips from yours, not sparing even an instant for you to process his movements before his sharp nose found sanctuary in your cleavage. He littered kisses there before moving to plant a trail around the circumference of your breasts.

“Coriolanus,” you moaned, your head lolling back.

He hummed against your skin, a halfhearted acknowledgement. His hand found its way between your thighs, his middle finger sliding between your labia where beads of your brand new arousal waited to greet him. He slathered his fingers in your juice, lubricating the skin before he slid his finger into your entrance.

Your entire composure collapsed at that, the built up suspense of needing him inside you satisfied at last. Your entrance clamped around him at first, the sensation always forgotten with how few and far apart these glorious moments were spread, but within a fraction of a second, you melted onto his finger.

You nibbled at your lower lip, the bite deepening as Coriolanus’s teeth found your nipple. He alternated between tugging at your hardened buds and swirling his tongue around and all over it, mischievously marking steaks of saliva along your skin. A few seconds later, his ring and index finger joined the party within you.

Your grip on his shoulders lowered down his back, eagerly clawing at the hard and chiselled muscles, but his damned shirt got in the way. You pulled back, Coriolanus’ lips robbed of your breasts. He glanced at you, his fingers continuing their thrusts. Your hands flew to tug at the buttons of his shirt. The first few you’d managed to undo, but you had finite patience for the others, resorting to an aggressive tug that split the buttons from the fabric.

“Are you going to pay for that?” Coriolanus jested lightly.

“I’m sure there’s plenty more shirts where that one came from,” you said hastily, yanking the sleeves down his broad shoulders.

You instantly dove in to kiss at his chest. He’d never been excessively muscled, but he was still strong and toned, his frame broad and absolutely mouth-watering to gaze upon. Your hands wandered along his chest, sliding along his shoulders and down his arms. You attempted to tug his shirt all the way off, Coriolanus aiding your motion as he momentarily pulled his fingers from inside you.

He rolled his shoulders and removed his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. You glanced at his torso, now completely exposed to you. You couldn’t stifle the smile on your lips, thinking that he looked a lot like a male stripper—bare-chested yet still clothed from the waist down, presenting himself on a chair. All he was missing was a sexy dance of some sort.

Coriolanus frowned at your gawking. “What’s on that mind of yours?”

You pursed your lips. “Nothing,” you answered, placing a kiss on his lips. You moved to murmur in his ear, “now If it’s not too much to ask, would you kindly stick your fingers back inside of me?”

When you withdrew to look at him, Coriolanus wore a wicked smirk. “What a slutty thing to say.” His fingers returned to your cunt, but instead of easing his way inside, he opted for his whole hand at once.

You didn’t know whether you were more shocked at his gesture, or the way your cunt had easily welcomed him. His movements were considerably less cautious than before, but you didn’t care about that now, only that he was finally inside of you. You let out a lengthy moan, so eager to verbalise your appreciation. Your hands moved to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading them together as you tilted your head back.

You closed your eyes and focused on his hand inside you, how each thrust grew deeper and closer to your sweet spot. It’s as though he’d already mapped out your insides, his fingers knowing exactly which way to wander. Gods, you truly didn’t know whether you or Coriolanus enjoyed this more. He kept up a regular pace for a while, and you’d quickly grown impatient and needy for his brutality.

“Faster,” you complained.

Coriolanus slowed his movements, coming to a complete stop. He wholly expected the miserable look on your face as your head snapped down to face him. How could he allow you to think that he was here to serve you, as opposed to you serving him. He wasn’t just going to hand you what you wanted, life certainly hadn’t been that generous with him. No, you’d have to work for it.

“Okay, we can go faster,” he said, cocking his head slightly. You regained a spark at those words, but it quickly blew out at what came next. “But you’ll do it yourself, since you’re unsatisfied with what I’m giving you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that—“ you attempted to protest, but Coriolanus cut you off with free his index finger pressing against your lips, his lips fashioned in a hush.

“No talking,” he murmured. “Just get to work.” He beckoned down to your cunt, his hand motionless inside of you.

Devastated at having to do the work yourself, you crossed your arms around his neck, your expression adorably resentful as you lifted your hips and began to ride him. Coriolanus lowered his free hand to rest at your hip, his attention wandering to your breasts. He couldn’t have ignored them even if he tried, not when they were bouncing inches from his face and calling out for attention. Your moans quickly commenced, your hips already starting to tremble with your next orgasm. You tossed your head back, your movements becoming uncoordinated, like your body had already started to give up.

Coriolanus felt your walls begin to clench around his hand, glancing up to glimpse your face. “Look at me,” he called to you. Your head lowered to face him at once, your eyelids drooping. “Are you going to cum?” He asked, and you nodded eagerly, followed by a strewn out moan.

Good, he thought. His hand on your hip began to press against your movements, interrupting the pace you’d managed to get going. Your eyes widened as your orgasm retracted into a dissatisfying gasp, the high that had been building instantly collapsed at your sudden lack of movement.

“Coriolanus,” you snapped, your tone coming across as a whine. You’d become frustrated with his teasing, and your body shared the sentiment. Your clit ached now, exhausted tremors seizing every muscle of your body. “You’re being a dick!”

“No,” he countered, pulling his hand from your entrance. He looked condescending as his eyes flickered across you face. “I’m punishing you, just like I promised. You’re getting exactly what you deserve, but you’re spoiled and used to getting your way.”

You didn’t have anything to retort, so you glared at him in silence, ignoring the hurt that his words had inflicted upon you.

“Don’t pout,” he murmured, wiping his wet hand along your thigh.

Then, without warning, he hoisted you up at the thighs and manoeuvred you bridal-style from the bathroom towards the bedroom. He lowered you onto the undone comforters of his bed, leaning down with you to place a swift kiss on your furrowed brows. He straightened up at the foot of the bed, his hands reaching for your calves.

“You want to cum?” He asked, his fingers wrapping around your legs to pull you down the bed and closer to where he stood. “I’ll make you cum, over and over again.” That was a promise.

Your lips parted with shock, words scattering from your tongue as his hands travelled over yours knees and grabbed at your thighs. He pried your legs apart, exposing your cunt to him. The last view you captured of him was the way his eyes traced your exposed lower half, a barely noticeable smirk pulling at one corner of his lips. Then, his head dipped into you, his tongue flat and rough on your folds.

You threw your head back into the sheets, your fingers instantly curling into the material as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded and preventing you from getting carried away into another universe. Coriolanus was conscious to strike his nose against your tender clit every so often, clearly enjoying the way it sent a jerk through your body. It was like his own personal control-switch to play with. You were too exhausted to limit the noises that you produced for him, so everything came out a loud and blabbering mess. You didn’t ever want to stop being touched this way.

Coriolanus was a clean man. He liked to keep his hair tamed, his jaw void of any developing beard that he felt would deface his appearance. But it had to have been a week since his last shave, you thought. You could feel the faint stubble poking through, grazing your intimate area as he ravished you below. It was the perfect addition to your arousal, adding just enough noise to push you into overstimulation.

You fought the urge to lift your lower half from the sheets, to greedily claim a deeper thrust of his tongue. He wouldn’t take kindly to that, and you didn’t think you had the capacity to endure any more teasing. Instead, you opened your thighs even wider, your hands releasing the comforter to grip at your breasts.

Coriolanus approved of your behaviour, his praise coming in the form of his tongue up your entrance. You let slip a breathy gasp, your jaw clenching at the lightning that seemed to obscure your vision.

“Fuck, Coriolanus,” you drawled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Please—let me cum!”

He hummed against your clit, the vibrations serving as the fucking icing on top of this sex-themed cake. You core knotted, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes screwed shut, the pressure building and building and threatening to spill over as Coriolanus’ tongue picked up the pace. He twirled your clit around, his fingers pinching at your thighs, and just like that, your body released all the tension of the evening.

Your chest bobbed up and down with heavy breathing, not feeling as though you could bear to open your eyes. It’s only when you felt Coriolanus’ warmth withdraw from your thighs that you lifted your head to glance up at him. He straightened up and met your gaze with an impressed look, his perfect lips offering a smile—a genuine smile. The sight set off butterflies in your stomach. He was proud of you and your performance.

“You did well, dove,” he praised.

You beamed at his compliment, words not easily extracted from him. The sheen on his jaw caught your attention, your heart jolting with shame to see him absolutely doused in your juice. It trailed well down his neck and onto his chest, making a point to follow the natural contours of his pecs.

“I’m sorry—“ a hand flew to your mouth, hardly believing that you’d produced a mess of that magnitude.

“Sorry?” Coriolanus mocked, his perfect teeth flashing in a laugh. “Don’t be. It’s a compliment. You show your appreciation like a real woman, just the way I like it.”

You watched as his hands lowered to his red trousers, his fingers moving to undo the button. You glanced back at him in alarm.

“You didn’t think we were done just yet?” He asked, his smile turning wicked as he unzipped his trousers and pulled it down. “I edged you twice,” he explained. “And I’d like to think I’m a fair man. So,” he paused and lowered his underwear, which freed his erection. “I owe you another good time.”

He stepped out from the last of his clothing, towering over your body as he inched his way toward you. “I won’t lie, though,” he murmured once he’d reached your ear. “I’m doing this mostly for me. I think I’ve waited long enough to feel you, really feel you.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes large and pleading like a pathetic mutt begging for scraps. “I don’t think I can take any more, Coriolanus.”

“Did it feel good, what you did just now?”

“It felt like heaven,” you told him softly.

“Then this time will feel like being completely reborn,” Coriolanus insisted, his hand relocating hair from your sticky face. “And even if it doesn’t, you’ll push through because this is your punishment, and punishment is not always meant to be enjoyable.”

You glanced off to the side, hating how much the cold look in his eyes stirred something inside of you.

Coriolanus found satisfaction in the way his words kept you silent. He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him, his thumb pressing into your lower lip before he planted a hollow kiss in its stead. He placed his forearm beside your head, leaning onto that side as his other hand reached down for his cock. He gave a lazy pump across his hard length, a pathetic attempt at spreading his pre-cum. He didn’t need to do any better, not when your drenched cunt offered enough lubrication for him to enter without a struggle.

And it did, without a single hitch, as he pushed himself inside of you. Your soft gasp sounded in his ear, his attention still trained below. Once he was sure he was properly inside of you, he turned his head up and placed his arm on the other side of your head. You felt so warm and welcoming, definitely a lot more relaxed than the previous times he’d stuck his cock inside of you.

He began to thrust, not having much patience to start slow and gradually build up the pressure. This entire evening had been leading up to this moment, the opportunity for him to be in this exact position. He’d spent all of his patience, now he just needed to finish what he’d set out to do. He was pleased to feel your hands snake beneath his arms and take up a hold on his back, that is until your nails suddenly sunk into his skin.

He let out pained moan, his gaze growing fierce at the satisfaction on your face. Two could play that game. He withdrew his length a far way out, his tip almost slipping from your entrance entirely, before he rammed himself back inside with an animalistic thrust. His tip collided with your g-spot, a harsh and sudden greeting to the sensitive area.

You let out a scream, your stomach lifting against him. Before you could process the shock, he rammed into you again, and again, and again. Each time, he returned with the same force, and not once did he fail to miss his target. Your nails in his skin continued to sink deeper, the both of you reduced to nothing more than grunting and gasping.

The bed creaked with every movement, the room echoing with the raw percussion of your skin-on-skin contact. Coriolanus bucked into you with such aggression that he began to moan with every sway of his hips. His hands, trapping your head on either side, slipped behind your head to grip at your hair. He yanked, opening up your neck to him. You moaned as his lips buried against your skin, the tip of his nose flattening into you as his teeth sought out your skin.

His movements became jerky, his teeth gritted as he grunted against your neck. You slipped a hand from his back to bury it into his hair, fastening your fingers around his blond wisps that had turned curly from the sweat of his activity.

“I’m going to cum,” he breathed into your neck, his hand flying to one of your thighs. He pulled it up to wrap around his lower half, his thrusts growing violently needy. “Fuck,” he spat, then called your name desperately. You felt too good, especially now that your walls seemed to clench around him—he knew that you were close, too.

Your second orgasm arrived, the hot wetness pooling around his length. He couldn’t maintain his control anymore. At last, he gave himself over to his pleasure, his movements becoming sluggish as he felt his release inside of you. He didn’t stop his thrusts, not until he felt himself empty every last drop inside of you.

Coriolanus collapsed beside you, his hand finding your cheek and pulling your head against his chest. For many minutes, nobody spoke, each one struggling to regain their breath. His other hand held your lower body against him, keeping his cock secure inside of you. He could feel your mingled juices leaking along his thigh and onto the sheets, a mess he didn’t mind right now.

You burrowed into Coriolanus’ arm, a tired sigh leaving your lips. “Fucking hell,” was all you could manage to say after an ordeal like this. Tonight had been his most brutal fuck thus far.

Your body ached everywhere, and you weren’t sure your swollen clit would ever forgive you for what you’d brought upon it. You supposed it served you right for trying to make him jealous by flirting with another man. You’d never stupidly test his limits that way again, that was for sure. You two laid in comfortable silence, riding out the last of your highs.

“Coriolanus,” you called to him softly, your fingers playing with his. “Do you love me?”

Coriolanus tilted his head down to you, his eyes widening at the sudden question. His lips parted to say something, but he quickly bit on his tongue. It was clear that your need for his attention had grown into something more profound, that you’d started to care about him in more than just what he had to offer your body. He turned his gaze up to the roof. “My position doesn’t permit me the time to love,” he answered carefully.

Your hair shuffled against his arm as you sat yourself up to face him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He turned his gaze back onto you, calling your name softly. “I have goals to achieve in this world. It leaves little time for relationships.”

Your eyes held disappointment. “Then what’s the point of all of this?”

“The point,” Coriolanus said, taking your hand into his, his thumb rubbing comforting circles across your skin. “Is that we keep each other company, offer a comfort that others couldn’t gift us even if they tried. We satisfy each other in ways that only we know how to.”

“So I’m just a source of entertainment to you?” You snapped, attempting to pull your hand from his, but his grasp on you tightened.

“Am I anything different to you?” He asked, his tone level, his cool eyes challenging. “Don’t mount a high horse, not when you entered this knowing exactly what you were in for. I take care of you and I make you feel good—that’s plenty more than you would’ve gotten back in the district and in any other location in the Capitol, for that matter. Would you rather go back to your district, back to a cold bed and an empty stomach with nobody to rely on? Maybe you’d rather I put you on the market for as some Capitol slut looking for her next sponsor. I can make that happen—“

“No!” You interrupted, your hard eyes thawing with a look of horror, like you’d recalled all the terrible memories of your life in the district. It was far from pleasant, a past you’d have liked to forget for good. You had nobody, nothing to return to.

As for the Capitol, you knew that there were infinite weirdos and perverts that would marvel at the opportunity to get their hands on a hunger games victor, especially one that had been branded by Coriolanus Snow more than once. You could only imagine what sort of prize that made you, a collectible to be displayed. The thought made your stomach turn.

“I don’t want that,” you said, your head lowering in defeat. “I just want you.”

Coriolanus’s eyes raked across your figure, so slumped in submission and hopelessness. He realised then just how much he’d broken you, reshaped you into a lapdog that would only eat directly out of his hand. “Good,” he murmured. “I want you, too. Only you.” His free hand moved to cup your chin, tilting it to face him. “And maybe. . . you could teach me how to love.”

Your eyes widened at those words, the hand clasped in his going stiff. He tugged at you, pulling you into him. Your head found its way nuzzled into the crook of his neck, his chin moving to rest atop your head. He continued to play with your fingers, his other arm cushioning your neck and holding you against him. He felt your breathing slow into an easy sleep, your warm breath flushing against his chest. He closed his own eyes, breathing deeply at the sweet scent radiating from your hair. He allowed it to lull him to sleep, mulling over your interaction.

He’d known the truth for years already—that his heart bore no capacity for love. It had saddened him, at first, made him feel as though he’d been formed wrong in the womb. His father had loved his mother enough to bring him into this world—his cousin, Tigris, had loved him, too, to the point where she’d have sacrificed everything to ensure that he’d survived the war. Sejanus, too, had loved him like a brother, trusted him with all that he was, and it had ultimately killed him.

All his life, Coriolanus had been cradled with love, but he’d been forever cursed with the inability to return it. It had taken him years to accept it, until one day, everything had clicked into place.

Perhaps he wasn’t meant to love, not when the world had become a disastrous mess in need of order, in need of somebody to bring it to that stage. He knew then that he could offer the order that Panem needed. Peace came at the cost of blood, and blood came at the cost of strength. Strength meant that love had no place and no say in the hard decisions to be made, for its love that made you vulnerable, and vulnerability was a weakness. He didn’t bear that weakness, and he never would.

As for you? Well, you were somewhat of a complicated matter as of now. When it came down to it—the decision between you and his destiny, he’d choose destiny without a doubt. But for now, he’d keep you close. He’d shower you with attention, spoil you with his touch, offer you everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. And once you’ve lost all worth to him, he’d discard of you.

Coriolanus knew that his path was one headed straight for the top, to claim the title of president of Panem. All that he’d done to get here, everything that he’d achieved up until now, it was all just the beginning. He was glad now—that he could not find it in himself to love anyone. It left him free of any liabilities, gave his enemies not even a fraction of power to hurt him.

For it’s the things we love most that destroy us.

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You MUST know I had to include that iconic line

Anyways, I’m sincerely sorry that this fic is like 15k words. I always tell myself to keep it simple but I’ve literally got no say over what happens once my fingers start typing away. I hope you all have enjoyed this read. I’m not TOO sure how I feel about it, but I think I’ve just gotten to the point where I’ve proof-read it so much that I honestly can’t stand it anymore.

This is my first every coryo fic and it was incredibly daunting to write, considering that he is such a complex character to portray and because I unintentionally resorted to flowing between his and the reader’s perspective, which I usually hate, but shit happens. I’ve never read the books (I am getting them for my birthday yay) so it was difficult to get inside of his mind given that I’ve never trod there before. In any case, I hope that I did his character justice in this blabbering mess, even if I did add my own sadistic twist lmao.

MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVELIES🎄

Your comments & reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you!! ~

I take requests (so long as I’m comfortable writing it) <3

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#tom blyth #billy the kid #young coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus imagine #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #coryo smut #coriolanus fanfiction

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vxiphoid · 10 months

Text

SERENE SHENANIGANS

❨ summary ❩ twst › waking them up to tell them stories that don’t make sense

tags ✧ fluff, crack, savanaclaw boys, defo not proofread its like 7 am, cursing but nothing out of the ordinary, ooc(?), ruggie calls you a little shit like once (affectionate), jack is whipped for you

amanuensis’ message ⊹ I LITERALLY LOVE DOING THIS??? my friends hate me for it. but anyways hiii im back after like my month hiatus, how are thy sleeplings?😋 mb guys writers block has been really kicking my ass, i was spitting blanks on paper… i’m gonna hopefully post another pastry emporium soon for scarabia so stay tuned for that‼️

⌜ 300+ e/chara ⌟

♫ sunset boulevard - hohyun

twst masterlist

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— “leona… pspsps….”

— he hums gruffly when his name was called the first time, only opening his eye thinking you called him a second time when it was really just noise that you would make to get the attention of a house cat. he instantly pins his ears back. how dare you. “hmm?”

— “so i took our snail for a walk and i had accidentally left my feet here to wash the dishes because the grass was blue.”

— huh? you could see him trying to process everything you just said as you explained, his lips parting and eyebrows furrowing. it took everything in you not to laugh. he does one of those blinks, the really delayed ones, one eye opens before the other…

— he’s half asleep too so the confusion is just adding up altogether. if chicken scratch wasn’t a writing term, this is literally it in words. its like the books back at home he picks up to read (derogatory) its, what, 4 am? dont do this to him😭

— you’ve never seen him so expressive💀 this definitely makes his eye and ear twitch at the same time. what type of fucked up fever dream is this?? its usually a blessing seeing you as the first thing he wakes up to, not when you wake him up with some bull strung up in a sentence with your beady eyes staring at him while he sleeps. he loves you, yes, but what does he even say to this…

— “what…”

— your forehead met with his chest as you struggled not to laugh at the uncharacteristic break in leona’s voice. how many cups of coffee did you drink? he asks you to repeat yourself even though it kinda a mind mush decision so you did and by the end of it, he looks absolutely restless.

— “that’s… yes. that’s great, herbivore. can we go to bed now?”

— you note that leona is surprisingly patient when half asleep

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

JACK HOWL

— deep sleeper. tug his ear. though he practically springs up before your hand makes contact, giving himself whiplash.

— “jack?”

— almost instantly relaxes when he realizes its you, tail wagging subtly☹️ “hi, baby. s’something wrong?”

— “hiii, do you remember a year ahead ago when i had to go to the dentist to get my spine fixed and the cats were barking at the flying dogs because the sky was in the water?”

— bro feels like he just had a stroke💀 he’s blinking rapidly, rubbing nose bridge as you explain. he really wants to understand, he does, but wtf did you just say??? it was the innocent “hi” before you unapologetically bashed his head in with the entire dictionary. its so ridiculous he couldn’t help but laugh.

— “jack, this is serious.” even as you told him that, your voice was not steady at all which made his shoulders shake violently in silent laughter.

— “im listening, i swear. tell me one more time?” yk his ass is not listening. he pulls you into his lap while his thumbs idly rubbed your sides, responding to your stories with “uh-huh” and “yeah?” with a lovesick smile on his face.

— eventually holds your face and starts pressing heart squeezing, fluffy kisses all over your face which truly made you more tired then you were. you honestly start forgetting what and where the story was going.

— jack only pauses his kissing attack to respond when you take a small break but even then he doesn’t pull away fully, he’s just speaking against your skin

— “—and the duck had my arm while i was taking it on a walk because gran tammy was in a flying shopping cart.”

— “oh wow. and then?”

— he’s listening but he’s not, mostly because he’s like two seconds away from dreamland and his brain isn’t registering half the shit you’re saying. he wants to see how many stories you can jumble up.

— “yeah, i think it’s bedtime for us…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

RUGGIE BUCCHI

— omfg he wakes up like a mom. like yk how you would barely touch them and they would gasp like they were just given cpr?? he wakes up like that.

— and you’re just standing there awkwardly 👁️👁️

— takes a quick look around before looking at you. “what happened? is it time to wake up leona already?” you shake your head and ruggie flops back, an arm draped over his eyes. “you scared me… come, lay down with me?” he held his free arm out for you and you did take your place cozied up against his side. to your surprise, you did actually scare the living shit out of him from how fast his heart was racing.

— “ruggie, yk i just found out you’re related to turtles, right? and i had to take uncle bobby to the vet to get a dna test because the fish drowned in air.”

— slow roblox turn towards you but instead its his head as he cranes it down to stare at you. you can practically hear the gears in his head turning and you literally could not look at him or you’d blow your cover.🧍🏾

— “i’m sorry,, what the fuck??”

— he’s genuinely confused, asking you questions about your story while his brain tries to put together the pieces. each question he asks, the more its harder to speak in full sentences other than wheezes

— “what are you laughing at, ya little shit? explain this to me!”

— “i’m trying!”

— and you are😭 its like when you have to explain the family tree really slow bc you cant say, “my father’s girlfriend’s son” without him like ???? and you’re trying to explain it to him slowly, eventually forgetting what you said in the first place…

— “…and the fish drowned in air.”

— “yes.”

— “sweetheart, you still haven’t explained how i’m related to turtles—”

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

Note

Hihi! I went on anon cause my main blog is strictly sfw, but I promise I'm an adult(29). Anyways, I had this idea of Ascended Astarion teasing Tav/Reader in front of a mirror. He can't see himself, but loves the way Tav/Reader shudders under his touch and them getting more and more embarrassed because all they can see is themselves getting riled up by seemingly nothing, but when they look down, ofc they see his hands working magic across their body.

Lol ty for the clarification and ask! I've been needing some nsfw practice!

Ascended Astarion nsfw under the cut, 18 + warnings. Like this is not implied smut. It is smut, graphic. Possessive, obsessive, manipulative, bad vampire man who loves you. As much as he's capable of. Morally gray human Tav from the start to here. It's only downhill from here baby, m/f angle. But if that doesnt fufill the dream let me know and I can make a gender neutral/ gender nonspecfic no prob! And probably less intense too because this is angsty~~~

Like I went ham, this is a whole ass fic now💀

You frowned at yourself in the bedroom mirror, adjusting your hair for the umpteenth time. It still didn't look right, despite what felt like hours of practice that you'd put into the intricate style.

You sighed as let one of your braids fall down, dissatisfied with what you saw. You didn't exactly look the part of an all-powerful vampire's consort, or at least not with the company you've recently been keeping. But it turned out a significant part of taking over Baldur's Gate was trenched in politics, meetings, balls, social events created for the sole purpose of mind games.

It was exhausting, or at least it was for you. But Astarion seemed to take to it like a duck to water. This life suited him, one of power games and subterfuge, and more often than not, murder. Not that you minded. You were just happy that he was having fun. That he was finally free after all of those years of torment. Even if he was using that freedom for… less than savory ends.

But despite his goals, you had sworn to him that you would never stray. And you intended on making good on that promise.

You just wished that he didn't insist on you being there for all of his "business". You hadn't realized how literal he had been about the whole sitting in his lap plan. It had taken a half-hour conversation to even convince him that no, you would not be doing so in the nude. He still hadn't given up on convincing you off that plan, but you highly doubted that it would help with your current level of heightened insecurity.

Maybe you were worrying for no reason. It wasn't Astarion who made you feel out of place. Well… it was, but not because of anything he did. Just… who he had become. He was so different now, so much colder to everything and everyone but you. More calculating, less forgiving, and just perfect for working with the most dangerous individuals in the mortal plane.

You seemed to be the only living thing he could relax around anymore, the only person who could soften him. It was strange really. You used to remember his softer side, before the ritual. The way his heart would hurt for children and animals alike, despite his failed attempts to hide it. His soft spot for Karlach, those who were brave and brazen, always willing to do the right thing despite the risks. The kind smile he used to have, reserved for beautiful things like the sunrise, the sunset.

Gone, all of it. It was a fact that you didn't like to think about. What you both gave up, things could have been; there was no point to it anyway. It was over. You gave Astarion the choice, this is what came of that. So here you were, obsessing over your appearance in preparation for a meeting with a high-ranking devil.

How things had changed.

You had no idea if you would ever find a way to match up with the company he kept around these days. Maybe it was your own fault for surrounding yourself with otherworldly creatures, but it was hard not to feel inadequate.

It didn't help that whenever you even slightly alluded to that insecurity, Astarion was more than ready to remind you of your… "options".

"You can join us whenever you'd like my treasure," Astarion would say with a creeping grin, "Just one bite, and we can be sure you'll be mine forever. Would that be so bad?"

It was a tempting offer, one that you kept insisting on refusing. You loved Astarion more than anything. But… you wanted that love to stay your choice. An obligation you maintained of your own free will. It's not that you didn't trust him… but to be a spawn had too many implications for you to handle.

"What has you pouting sweet thing?"

You startled when hands suddenly settled on your hip, gripping through the thin fabric of your nightdress. You looked back, relaxing the slightest bit to see Astarion smiling down at you, amused at the fact he'd managed to sneak up on you through the mirror.

"You said you weren't going to do that anymore," You whined as you leaned back into him, your eyes turning back to the mirror. You could see the fabric of your slip indented under his hands, ghost-like without his actual image reflecting back.

"I lied," Astarion said simply, leaning down to breathe you in from the crook of your neck, "Now what are you thinking about pet? I can tell something's on your mind."

You bit your lip, debating for a moment if you should tell him or not. But it's not like he would let it drop, and he was way too good at being able to tell when you were lying. Might as well come clean.

You sighed, "I don't…I don't know if I'm cut out for this."

You expected him to huff at you, maybe even laugh. But instead, the grip he had on you tightened, hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel his fangs scraping against your delicate skin, scratching hard enough to cause pinpricks of blood to bead out.

"And why would you ever think a thing like that?" Astarion asked, his voice harsh and low, "Where else would you be if not by my side hm? Please, enlighten me."

You gulped, your heart rate starting to pick up. You hadn't meant it like that, "That's not what I meant-"

"Then what else could it have meant?" Astarion shot back, his hands digging into you, surely ready to leave finger-shaped bruises. Suddenly he was using that same grip to drag you backward to the bed, effortlessly settling you between his spread legs.

All while managing to still be right in sight of the mirror. You could feel your cheeks redden as his hands started to wander, unceremoniously tugging down the straps of your nightdress to reveal your chest. That was another thing about life after the ritual that had been a surprise, just how different Astarion's sex drive was. It's not like he was a prude before, far from it, but now he was insatiable. Always ready and willing to touch you whenever the urge struck him. Often enough for you to eventually come to the thrilling, if not slightly disturbed realization, that… he was training you. Training your body to always want his touch.

And tonight was no different. You could already feel yourself getting wet, and he had barely done anything yet. But then suddenly he was pinching your nipple harshly, hissing in your ear, "I expect an answer when I ask you a question darling."

You bit back a moan, trying to remember what you were even arguing about as he started to play with your breasts, "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just… I don't want to embarrass you."

It was humiliating to admit but it was true. Not many people of Astarion's caliber insisted on a singular lover. There were so many people after him now, people with more power, more beauty, and grace. You didn't match up. You couldn't.

"Nonsense," Astarion dismissed, his hands wandering down to tear off more of your clothing, "Look at you. You were made for this life. Made for me. You're gorgeous."

The compliments mixed with the harsh feeling of his hands ripping your nightdress in two was quite the experience. You could feel his own hardness pressing into your backside, twitching as he threw your ruined clothing to the side.

Then he was gripping your chin, forcing your head back up to stare into the mirror in front of you, "I said look."

You obeyed, eyes widening at what you saw. It was so strange to see yourself like this, fully exposed with your legs spread apart, flushed and panting. It nearly gave the illusion that your very image was what was causing the wetness between your legs, instead of the invisible man toying with you.

You swallowed, your throat dry as Astarion's hands wandered lower, a feather-light touch tracing up and down your slit, "You are everything. The sole reason that I'm the man I am today. There is nowhere else you should be than right here."

"But-" You gasped, your words interrupted by a sharp slap to your inner thigh. You could see your skin start to redden in the mirror, a perfect imprint left in it's wake.

"Darling, are you questioning my judgment? What on earth made you think that was a good idea?"

You frantically shook your head, moaning when his fingers delved deeper, playing with your slick folds, "I-I'm not. I didn't- I'm sorry."

You whined as he roughly pinched your clit, his other hand moving upward to do the same to your heaving chest.

He was starting to grind his hardness against you, a tease of more to come as he murmured in your ear, "There's my good girl. Was that so hard?"

You shook your head, gasping as he finally dipped his long fingers into your cunt. You were already so sensitive, humiliatingly close in a matter of minutes.

"So gorgeous," Astarion sighed, staring straight ahead to the sole image of you, whimpering as he finger-fucked your pussy, "So needy. Can you see how wet you are pet?"

You could, you were leaking around his fingers, that needy, intense feeling getting more and more intense by the moment. It was so embarrassing seeing yourself like this, enough so that you snapped your eyes shut.

A bad idea. Astarion tutted at you, landing another sudden and hard slap to your thigh, "None of that. I told you to look. Or else."

You snapped your eyes back open, watching yourself whimper and gasp as you were played with, the harsh movement of his hand jostling your breasts. You weren't going to last much longer, not with the image of you being taken apart, the feeling of him inside you, the mean edge to your love's words.

"You're such a silly little thing, aren't you?" Astarion growled, fucking you harder and faster. You were so close, but you weren't stupid enough to come without permission. Not after what he did the last time, "Doubting me. Do you really think I don't know what's best for you? What's best for us?"

"No," You whimpered, your hips arching backward to rub harder into his erection, "You're right, I-I'm yours. C-Can I come now? Please?"

"Beg me and maybe I'll think about it," Astarion meanly laughed, relishing in the gush of slick his harshness coaxed from between your legs, "Beg and apologize. Apologize for doubting us. For doubting me."

You could barely get the words out through your own gasps, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it!"

"Good girl," Astarion huskily laughed, using a clever thumb to rub over your swollen clit, "Now tell me you love me."

"I love you," You said easily, meaning every word, "I love you more than anything.

"Tell me you'll never leave me. Ever."

There was something else behind that promise. An obvious implication that your fucked-out brain was too distracted to see.

"Never," You promised, reaching back for you him. You curled your fingers into his hair. pulling his head down to press his mouth against your throat. An open invitation, "I'll always be with you."

Astarion groaned against your skin, his fangs so close to piercing, "Precious pet, how could I ever want anything else? Come darling, you've earned it."

Then he was biting you, the brief flash of pain the perfect trigger for you to fall over the edge. You came with an embarrassingly high-pitched whine, slumping back into Astarion as he drank from your throat.

You looked as much of a mess as you felt, the stickiness between your thighs glistening in the light. You watched yourself, whimpering as Astarion slipped his fingers out. Just to tap them against your lips, forcing them into your mouth to suck on.

You moaned around them, light-headed as Astarion popped off of your throat. You sighed as he licked at the wound, enjoying the brief moment of rest. You weren't naive enough to think that you were done yet. Not when Astarion was still hard, his cock pulsing against you.

"See?" Astarion huskily laughed, licking the blood off of his lips while he played with your tongue, "You're perfect. Perfect and mine."

#astarion #ascended astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #check the intro warnings #graphic #m/f pairing

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thatdeadaquarius · 11 months

Note

Have some more language brainrot for your brainrot

Writer reader getting kind of insecure that even if they write something nobody will understand it, so when Al haithem askes you if he can keep a draft or two just for analyzing, there's hesitant agreement but ultimately you tell him to please burn the documents once he's done. They're too awkward to look at now...

Only he doesn't burn them, in fact he ends up recruiting several people close to the creator with knowledge of olden speak to analyze them. A funeral parlor consultant well known for his historical knowledge, a 500 year old shrine maiden who owns and runs her own publishing house, and a bard who somehow butted his way in on the project. None of them could resist the opportunity to witness the creator's sacred scriptures with their own eyes.

Needless to say, the papers ended up being fought over and have been making their rounds around your acolytes. It started with Ei, who insisted that as an archon she also should see the creator's work with her own eyes. Then once Ningguang found out, she ordered they be handed over to a team of literary analysts in order to be properly handled and deciphered. Things got really messy quick, but have luckily come to a halt as none of the acolytes want the creator to know their random writings are being fought over.

Especially when it comes to the creator's sullen additute. Their acolytes first have to convince their holiness that their inability to read and understand the creator's writing shouldn't prevent you from doing what you love. In fact... could they convince you to write some more?

WRITER OR READER WITH TALENTS HAS MY WHOLE HEART LIKE-

On one hand, same 💀 id be terrified for my all time fav skrunklies to see my bs

But at the same time i rlly wanna show them goddamit- THANK U FOR THE BRAIN FOOD IM RUNNING LAPS AROUND MY HOUSE THINKING ABT THIS-

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them), Writer!Reader

Planet: Language Shenanigans

Orbit: Scenario

Stars: Alhaitham mostly, some of Kaveh, mentions of other Sumeru characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Insecure about craft/writing, anxious first pov (not serious),

& Trigger Warnings: Mild Negative self-talk, insecure perspective/reader “you”, possible anxiety depiction.

You were not a very confident writer.

This had been an avoidable feeling ever since you picked up a pen for the first time and were asked to write a story for school.

You were always anxious turning in essays, letting friends proofread them, anything that would expose your writing to more eyes, because you’d learned the hard way early on that as you get older and better at something, the stuff from the beginning… starts to look a lot different than you remember.

things you used to be proud of after having completed them in the moment, were something you struggled not to rip to shreds a year or two after you re-found it.

If it weren’t for other writers advising holding onto old work so you can see your progress over time, you’d have probably literally nothing older than one year on your ao3, wattpad, etc…

So when you had the fortunate luck (no it is not unfortunately, you are very happy to be here tbh) to fall headfirst into your video game you’ve been obsessed with lately,

You were not planning on showing them any of your writing.

Why would you, after all? You’ve got the weapons, the artifacts, everything they need to be more powerful. Why would you show them a silly little story you wrote? Fanfic or otherwise, not that theyll recognize any characters besides themselves, but still.

Alhaitham, bc ofc it was alhaitham, cocky, deviously aware bastard he is, caught you writing in your spare time first.

You’d gotten your hands on an old journal (if made you feel better than something completely new, a nice worn leather journal, sold at a secondhand shop from an old adventurer) and had started to write what you could remember about some of your ideas you’d had drafts for in your old world

After initially walking in on you writing in the House of Daena (it was the closest you could get to lofi girl, god u missed her lmao), you nearly jumped a foot in the air bc Haitham’s a nosy bitch and leaned over your shoulder and scared the absolute shit out of you, mans goes from asking politely, to begging you to let him read some of your writing over the course of 3 weeks (a month really)

Finally, after this 6 ft (about 180cm) man leans down one day (you’re sitting writing again), and gives you the most insanely good?? puppy dog eyes??? you’ve ever seen on a man???

you give in, revise a draft about 5 times in a row, lose sleep bc ur having a breakdown about alhaitham judging ur writing the night before you give him his copy-

and hand over a small short story for him to read. you specifically leave a little note not to judge you so hard for Haitham bc u werent used to people reading ur work/let alone someone as highly academic as him, ESPECIALLY since your speech is already so much more archaic than his/all of Teyvats-

His stupid green eyes with diamonds look into your soul (are they sparkling??) and he braces your shoulders after you give him his copy,

“Mine Greatest Guide, you hath deemed this one worthy of thy trust of your creations personally, I would be a fool to gaze upon it in jest. To take this work as anything less than a masterpiece in its infant stages.”

…you just leave him to it, and are nearly running out of there (u managed to be calm enough to just speedwalk),

and you make a point to not ask what he thought about it, or even bring it up at all

you’re kind of hoping he forgot tbh… and so nothing happens!

◇

Nothing happens… for 2 weeks after you gave Haitham a copy of your short story.

You still don’t know Alhaitham’s opinion when you see the advertisement, a sign saying something about, a new book? By YOU???

You nearly start a mob because the shopkeeper insisted you sign some copies, but you only signed a few before too many people overwhelmed you, and seeing it was that same draft- !! Oh god, you’d been agonizing over the spelling errors you’d missed when you gave it to Alhaitham, and now it’s just out there???

(luckily it seems the reviews are positive, but dammit you’ve been rereading ur story u gave him for days, and now ur positive it’s shit-)

You make a break for it, and are literally running (more like speed-walking after a while, since u got further away) thru Sumeru City:

you pass by the open patio of a restaurant, the scholars are heatedly discussing ur characterization-

you pass by Dehya, Candace, and Dunyazard, the merc is waving around a copy of ur book, the other two women look excited abt the conversation-

oh my god-

Nahida is relaxing in one of the many little gazebos thruout Sumeru, while Wanderer seems to be reading your story to her-

You fucking track down Alhaitham’s house like a bloodhound.

You are banging the infamous gay roommates’ front door, panting til ur throat burns raw.

“Yes, yes, alright, greetings to you too! I was simply visiting the Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, tis why I’m here- Greatest Lord?!”

Kaveh is nearly jumps a foot in the air at the sight of you, but recovers, (you’re still not tho lmao)

and invites you in bc apparently, Alhaitham’s been meaning to talk to you about your draft you gave him!

Oh yeah, you’ve got some words to give Haitham after giving him that damn draft privately-

But when he sees you, the fucker just- smiles??

Like he’s done nothing wrong???

You’re about to tear into him when he speaks first to tell you the good news!

He grabs your hands at the table and gets down on one knee, ohhhh no.

Alhaitham is giving you those damn begging puppy dog eyes again.

“My Greatest Lord, Giver of Power, and Guide to All, your exquisite story has entranced all of Teyvat, might I please insist you write a sequel? It is an excellent literary piece to analyze… or perhaps, even better, share other stories you’ve written??”

…

….Motherfucker.

☆

Hello I’m alive! I just took a longer-than-usual break between posts from those last 2 mammoth pieces about gifts,

1: bc they were a lot to write in between writing other stuff like fanfics im already working on lol 2: I got busy with holidays and trying to apply to jobs!

Not that I’m still not doing that.. but you get what I mean!

Safe Travels Anon,

That being said, as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve made a kofi! so if you ever liked my writing (hot mess it is) and want to show me some love, feel free to leave a tip! :]

Iced coffee?? :0

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

#hello i live #i just took a longer than normal break between posting bc the gifts were vv big and i had holidays/job searching to do #which i am still looking #but its better now #also gonna start linking my kofi if anybody is feeling generous! :]#sagau #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #my asks #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact isekai #genshin x reader

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voltronisanobsession · 9 months

Note

Hi hello! I hope your having a good day

This might be a little boring but what about a Percy x reader childhood friends to lovers?

Percy had a fat crush on reader growing up (and never gets over them) but then he was swept away to camp half blood so suddenly so he didn’t have time to say anything to reader, and because of the no cellphone rule at camp reader is like all up in their feels thinking their best friend just left without telling them. So when reader sees Percy at school in the winter they kinda avoid him assuming that he was doing the same, basically they drift apart.

But a year or two later, it turns out reader is also a Demi god just found out later in life maybe a child of Apollo or smt, so they come to camp and they see Percy and suddenly everything is making sense, like why he left on such a short notice why he never contacted them, etc. then Percy and reader just have this little catch up where they realize they still have feelings for each other ,but are maybe too nervous to admit because they don’t wanna ruin their friendship again?

It’s so cliché I know, but I’m such a sucker for the childhood friends to lovers trope.

Percy with a Childhood Friend

Omg this is so CUTE ARGGH!! This is my second time writing this cuz I accidentally deleted everything the first time </3

It’s a little long since I wanted to somewhat incorporate a story🔥 not proofread🔥🔥

Edit: I finished proofreading this and DAMN there were a lot of errors💀💀 do not write when ur about to pass out guys💀

This is literally the cutest idea EVER!!

You guys would totally become friends because of your mutual confusion with school💀 Like you both bond over struggling with school and immediately grow closer

Since he could remember, Percy always had a harder time learning the materials in school and was outcasted for it in a way

So when you sit next to him during recess and start talking to him out of nowhere, he knows you guys are gonna be stuck with each other for a long time

Since you're basically his first friend, in like forever, he can't help the growing feeling he has for you

The way you brightly smile at him when he asks for help on a reading he can’t quite seem to grasp, or the way you patch him up after getting into a fight with one of the bullies

You’re just like the light in his life, you’re warm presence immediately settling his anxiousness

You guys are stuck together like glue and no one can seem to separate you both, something that many have tried to do

Percy believes that nothing can get better than this honeymoon phase in your friendship, swearing that he’s going to confess his small crush on you and everything😭

Until he’s kicked out of school and your family moves away and you begin attending Yancy Academy💀💀

Percy is obviously just as heart broken as you

So for the next few years, Percy faces all these new schools alone and gets kicked out of all them

And when he’s sent to Yancy Academy and finally reunited with you again, he quite literally JUMPS on you

Like this boy is SO HAPPY to see you omg

That spark never left between the two of you and you both make up for lost time

So while school is still the same, getting to see you everyday now is a game changer for Percy

The buried feelings come back full force, your warm and bright smile still making him feel gooey inside after all this time

And you’re just as nervous to him too cuz AHHH!! Childhood crush is back!!

Of course we all know how this ends, Percy is unfortunately kicked out of school again and you’re both heartbroken in the end

Percy leaves mysteriously while you’re wondering where he went

You question Grover on the boys disappearance, the satyr giving you a nervous look while saying Percy didn’t feel quite right attending the school

Which confused and hurt you because Percy had said you made going to this prison worth it

Percy never got to say his goodbyes and is suddenly dragged into the half blood life, continuing his life with danger at every corner

Even after going on all these exciting and dangerous quests, years later Percy will never be able to stop his mind from straying to the one he let get away

He feels regret for the most part and probably thinks you hate him for leaving you so suddenly💀

He often wonders what your doing

Maybe your reading a book from that one author you like

Or maybe you’ve picked up a new hobby. Last time he saw you, you did mention you’ve had this strong urge to learn archery

School starts again and Percy is once again sent to a new school

He’s already anticipating going to camp next year but is immediately caught off guard when he sees you in the distance in one of the school halls

It’s LITERALY like time slows down

His eyes widen when he makes eye contact with you, the light hitting your face in a certain angle that makes you look ethereal

He feels his heart speeding up when your recognize him from the distance

Your face is scrunched up in confusion and then hurt, quickly looking away from him and walking down a different hallway

He’s so happy to see a familar face that he doesn’t even think about how you might be feeling after not seeing him these past few years

Percy looks different. Hes way taller than he was before. His hair is longer and messier, but makes it work. His face is more defined, skin glowing even under the florescent lights

You can’t deny the way your heart skipped a beat at seeing Percy again but everything crumbles down when you remember his unannounced departure from Yancy Academy

‘He could’ve at least told me’ you bitterly think while slamming your locker

Yeah you would avoid him like the plague while school’s in session

Walking in the opposite direction when you see him and avoiding his eyes when he tries to get your attention during class

It isn’t until when a monster interrupts the formal winter dance that you finally speak to him

Percy is trying his best to fight off the monster when it knocks him to the ground with a force that has him hackling for air

That’s when you come to the rescue

“Percy get down!”

“Y/N?!”

With a bow and arrow in hand, you aim for the beast with such precision and confidence, he stares in amazement as you single handily slay the monster with one arrow

He unfortunately has to flee the scene when he hears people barreling down the hallways, anxious to see all the commotion he caused

Yeah he gets to camp early that year💀

And when this guy sees you at camp during the summer, everything suddenly clicks in his head

The way you could see the monster and WERENT affected by the mist

Your scary accurate hit with a bow that seemingly came out of nowhere

And even the way the sun would shine in your favor in random moments

When you see Percy though, your confusion is maxed out. Was this why he left? Why you were never able to get ahold of him?

Yeah things are a little awkward during this time

While you’re put into the Apollo cabin after being claimed and adjusting to camp, Percy finds a hard time to talk to you

He’s SUPER excited knowing you’re a half blood too

He doesn’t have to worry about keeping any secrets from you and can tell you all about his journey throughout the years!!!

But fate seems to pull you and him further apart, bit by bit

He’s forced to hear your contagious laughter from afar during dinner, watching with soft eyes as your siblings surround you, nudging you suggestively when they catch him staring at you

You look over to him and send him a shy smile, in which he would perk up at finally getting your attention :D

After that night, things get a little easier

He’s still dragged away whenever he tries to approach you, but now he isn’t the only one trying to talk

You both wave whenever you see each other

Percy still stares at you whenever a camper tries asking him a question

While you try to walk up to him, he’s magically bombarded by other campers crowding him

He would push past them all to finally get to you after you nod your head to the side, urging him to follow you

“Yeah you know what guys? How about we catch up with this during the campfire! Yeah yeah, totally, see ya!”

He’s jogging up to you as you both walk the shore

“Well aren’t you popular here.” You say with a sly smile

“Oh yeah, I’m kinda known around camp. I’ve had a few uh, memorable, moments.” This dude is blushing like crazy cuz FINALLY! He’s finally alone with you!

After settling everything between you two, once again you’re stuck together

Training together despite your different weapons, doing activities together is a new norm

Except things are different this time

Percy isn’t the shy boy he was when he was young

He’s more confident and wants to make his intentions know to you

While he shows you how to use his sword during training, you guys already know he’s placing his hands over yours to show you the ‘correct placement’

So sly teehee

During the art and craft activities , he’s suggesting you guys to make a matching bracelet

His smooth flirting isn’t missed by you and you’re literally having a HEARTATTACK

You aren’t used to Percy being so bold, buts it’s honestly such a nice change of pace

He would definitely confess his feelings after dinner near the shore

And despite his suave attitude the past weeks, he’s so clumsy when he reveals his feelings for you

“So um, I like y- wait. Ok ok, sorry. What I wanted to say is that like, I like you. A lot actually. For a while. And you know it’s completely fine if you don’t, but I hope you like me the same because this would be really embarrassing for me-“

“Percy! It’s ok um! I like you too. A lot.”

It’s SUPER CHEESY BUT LIKE

COME ON

HES GIVING YOU PUPPY DOG EYES WHEN YOU SAY THAT AND UGH

He’s would totally lift you up and spin you around because he’s so HAPPY

Bro finally got his crush😭😭

He’s so sweet to you like bro

Always hyping you up during mock battles, cheering you on during camp games even if you’re aren’t on the same team

You already know he’s willing to lay down his life for you😭

And you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same even if he begs you not to say that (he doesn’t want to even think of the thought of you leaving him)

He’s an extremely affectionate person, pda is his middle name

If you aren’t that comfortable with pda though, he’ll settle with just holding your hand. He’ll just cuddle you later in private😻🔥🔥

But of course you guys are still best friends so you both would still clown the other if one of you does something stupid

He would love it if you play with his hair

He would be sitting in front of you during the campfire while you’re on a log seat when you brush some hair away from his face.

You rub his head a bit and Percy would lean his head into your hands.

When you’re done you pull away only for your boyfriend to bring your hands back to his hair, silently asking you to continue (UGHHHH MY HEART)

Sally loves you and is supportive of you guys (your number one supporter)

She invites you to have dinner with them and how could you refuse😩

Percy is so down bad for you and always brags about how long you both have known each other and how close you are

Like no one cares but he’ll just keep and talking about you to anyone around

Sometimes when you bunk in his cabin for a night or two, he likes talking about the past and how far you’ve both come

It’s during these nights where he’ll get emotional, maybe cry because he’s so grateful he has you in his life

You would kiss his tears away (SCREAMING)

Overall, childhood friends to lovers works out PERFECTLY with Percy. He values your friendship as much as he values your relationship

He knows you better than anyone in your life, has seen different versions of yourself and has always stuck by your side, through thick and thin💔

#pjo x reader #pjo headcanon #Percy jackson #Percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson headcanon #pjo percy #pjo #pjo headcanons #x reader #headcanons

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lotusmi · 1 year

Note

SUCCESS STORY!!🤎🧸

tw//mental problems, abusive family, bullying, suicide attempt, manifest/void obsession

first of all i want to thank lotus because it helped me even when i was thinking about suicide❤️‍🩹

it's been years since I learned loa and I was having problems with the manifest. althought I have known loa for 2-3 years, i constantly reacted to 3D and for such reasons I could not manifest anything for 2-3 years. and when i first learned loa i was obsessed with void. I was hurting myself to enter void. like if you don't enter void today I will kill you. i was crazy because of void. at the same time, I was staying in the family environment that dragged me to death, and I was bullied at school . i was hated by people even though i did nothing. i tried to commit suicide many times, my family wouldn't let me go to the therapist. also, no one said anything to the bullying I saw. thats why I bullied myself for years in the same way. if I told anyone I was being bullied and asked for help, they would say it was probably my problem to my face💀💀 and towards the end of 2022, i seriously couldn't stand it anymore. i was constantly reading blogs [i think there is no blog i haven't read, lmao] and the last time i couldn't stand it, i tried suicide again, but i failed. later i wrote to lotus and she gave me a lot of advice (baby ily😩❤️) and i cried more than i have ever cried that night. the problem is that while people were already ruining me, the real problem was that i was ruining myself too. after that day, in the first week, i had so many problems in my manifest journey. but until 2023, i said to myself, "i don't want to live like this anymore. i deserve the life I want.” i made a promise. and every time I felt like quitting, i remembered my promise to myself. and now i have revised my whole life, i live in dubai🤭. if you're going to ask how i did this, i started to listen to my inner voice, i almost stopped entering tumblr. i stopped affirming and wrote down the things that i was gonna revise one by one, and added them to the notes app on my phone. i made a note at the bottom that I already have these in my life. when “what if I can't manifest the life I want?” if such thoughts came to my mind, i told myself that the creation was already finished. in this process, i focused only on myself and was developing my self concept. before I went to bed at night, i was constantly imagining the life I wanted and I was staying in that state and saying I already had the life I wanted, I didn't affirm anything extra. and even those who made life difficult for me started to apologize to me. (i manifested their karma life lol) anyway I don't want to talk more about those bitches but I want to mention this. please take a break. relax. stay away from things like void, loa for a few days. I noticed that some of you are obsessed with void on this blog. but i must say void is just a method. if i manifested the life i wanted when i was only 12-13 years old, you can do it too. take a break and do what feels good to you. love yourself. loa blogs can help you up to a point. they can't spare all their days for you. start taking responsibility. find manifest methods that work well for you. love yourself. meditate. i’ve talked a lot but I would like to add that, if someone tells you that you are the cause of the circumstances you are experiencing right now, that you created the conditions in which you live, please tell them to shut their fucking mouths. no such thing. i was blaming myself again, thinking what a disgusting monster i am just because this “you create ur reality” thingy. but the truth is that creation is already over. good luck!

MY FAV SUCCESS STORY TO EXIST!!!! 😭

I literally cried when this girl texted me saying she is living her dream life, I was so pround, I am pround 💗

Backstory, she first texted me 12/15/2022

She told me everything about her circumstances, they were really bad ones, and she was 12 at time and this made my heart so broken (she revised her age) since her parents were really toxic and disgusting ( I am not going to say much about her old story).

So I told her all about the toxic home I lived and how I manifested it away too (my success, my failures).

So, time passed and 01/feb I got this text!

I literally cried because I was so happy for herrrr 💗😭😭

"How she did it?"

She focused in her inner Self being the only reality and ignored all circumstances!

"and i would love to you to add those youtubers and blogs" insta: - kriston jackson youtube: - lana blakely tumblr: - @becomingthatgirl111 — other sources abt loa: - joe dispenza, edward art"

I literally cried so much and I am so happy for you my angel, look how you did it! You were 12 and revised your whole life! 💗💗💗

And that are people out there who don't believe that it is possible to manifest things. Look at this girl 💓

You did it amazing love, I am so pround of you. You are deserving of all the best things in the world. I wish you all the fun in life. Thank you sm for sending me this, I feel so appreciated that I had helped you, but who did all of this was YOU! 💗💗💗

✉️You all, everything is possible!

#neville goddard #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loa advice #loa blog #manifesting #success story #living in the end #loatumblr #Lotuses success

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borahaerhy · 1 year

Note

Hey. This is my first time requesting an imagine from anyone really. I saw that your requests were open and I REALLY enjoyed the mine|jjk one you wrote. If I could, could I request an enemies to lovers jjk imagine with a possesive jungkook. I’ll leave the warnings to your own digression but can I request screaming at each other and praise links 💀😂

:))))

You're Pretty When You're Mad - jjk

Genre: SMUT, angst, fluff, Lawyer!Jungkook

Warnings: Jungkook's a hotshot lawyer that takes credit for his female coworkers work and that's kinda infuriating, they're also defending someone who probably literally unalived their wife, Y/n's kinda mean, possessive!Jungkook, Jungkook's kinda mean, drinking, cursing, clothed sex, unprotected sex (no), multiple orgasms, Praise kink, slight Dom JK, he calls her princess, lmk if I missed something bc I'm sure I did lol

Word count: 3.9K

Ugh

Monday

It’s easily the worst day of the week. You just spent the past few days off and relaxing, spending time with family and friends; going out or staying in with a good movie or book to occupy your mind.

But Monday started the week, the first day back and with no ending in sight. The misery that accompanies waking up at 5:30 on a Monday morning rivaled nothing.

Except for maybe the hatred you had accumulated for Jeon Jungkook.

You hadn’t always hated Monday’s to this extreme. I mean sure, like everyone else, you didn’t enjoy them or look forward to them, but they were just another day before.

Not until you started working at your new job, an internship at the most reputable local law firm in the area; where Jungkook had been a partner, and a damn good one at that.

He was good at his job, sure, but god was he cocky. Anyone that hired him had to pay big money, but they knew they were walking away with whatever they wanted.

And you, the pretty little intern fresh out of law school, just happened to fall victim to the man's ego.

Most interns aren’t taken too seriously, they get coffee and make runs, sometimes they’ll be assigned with a bigger lawyer to help organize cases, and only after they’ve proven themselves will they get a case of their own.

You, however, managed to prove yourself pretty quickly, or so you thought, whenever you’d been assigned to assist Jungkook in a case.

You read through everything while helping him get everything organized one night, and noticed something that he hadn’t; the alibi for one of the suspects didn’t check out, as a time-stamped video proved he was not only not where he said he was, but on the complete other side of the country.

When you told Jungkook, he took all the credit. He said you helped, of course, but he was the one that obviously found the error, and won that case.

And then it happened a second time. And a third, until Jungkook just insisted that you needed to be his little assistant, since you were so good at helping him stay organized so that he could focus on what was actually important.

There was nothing you could do, really. The highest paid lawyer with the most cases won in the state, and you, someone who’s less than a year out of college and barely old enough to be taken seriously. There’s only one person they’d believe; and it’s your word against his.

Not to mention he was just an asshole.

“Goodmorning, Y/n. Have a good weekend?” Jungkook’s voice had a teasing tone to it, knowing just how much you hated having to work with him at this point; something he seemed to really enjoy.

You glared over at him before you set your stuff down at your desk, which was now pushed into the corner of his office, per his request. He chuckled as you looked away from him, your exasperated sigh music to his ears as you plopped down in your seat.

“I had a great weekend, thanks for asking. Well, I assume I did. I got drunk on Friday and woke up this morning, not remembering a goddamn thing the whole time. Did wake up with a few hickies though, so someone had fun,” Asshole.

While he had plenty reason to be cocky because of his career, he was also cocky because of his looks, and because of the women they earned him. If you didn’t work for him, you in all honesty probably would have thrown yourself at him by now. You even remember being nervous the first time you were appointed to work with him because he was just so attractive.

That really wore off fast, though.

He was still hot, sure, but he was also the most infuriating person ever.

“So I’m assuming you didn’t have time to go over the case you have this afternoon?” You didn’t bother looking at him as you took some papers out of your briefcase, something your family had gotten you as a graduation present to help you look more official.

“No, but I’m lucky my lovely assistant no doubt already has everything organized and ready for me,” You stood up from your desk, a folder with his copy of everything he needed to walk into the courtroom in a few hours, barring his own personal notes about arguments he needs to make and points to drive his argument home.

“I’m not your assistant,” You dropped the folder on his desk before you marched your way back to yours, arms crossed over your chest.

The trial Jungkook had to attend today was for the defense of a man accused of killing his wife. It was obvious he did it; and even if he didn’t, it really looked like he did. His alibi was that he was camping in the woods with his brother, who testified for him, but that doesn’t offer much to the court seeing as family is never a reputable source when it comes to an alibi.

He also already had a record, petty theft and a few DUI’s. All non-violent crimes, but it still doesn’t play very well in his favor. There’s also a history of affairs according to friend and family testimony from both the victim and accused.

At his bail hearing, he practically fucked himself when we regretfully put him on the stand. He showed no emotion, and forgot his cover story half-way through.

“Oh yeah, this guy. What argument should I use?” You sighed, hating to give him the answers, but knowing that when applying to other firms, a history of wins, even if while partnered with a more experienced lawyer, could only be a bonus.

“Someone else’s fingerprints were on the murder weapon, but his weren’t, and there was no evidence that he, or anyone, cleaned it off. He’s been having an affair with a woman named Joan Roberts. She’s going to be there today, and I’ve already asked her, she’s willing to testify that she was with him the night of the murder; you just need to convince him before we go in to break down on the stand and confess the truth: he lied previously because he felt so bad about cheating on his wife during her murder,” You paused to take a sip of your coffee, before you turned your attention back to the papers in front of you.

“Drive home the murder weapon and act surprised when he breaks down on the stand; question him just thoroughly enough that it’s believable that you drilling him while also getting him out of there before he fucks himself into a life sentence, then call his mistress up. She seems a lot smarter than him but I’d be cautious of asking her too much. There’s a list of questions I have written out for both of them, along with questions to ask his brother if he bitches out of admitting to the affair,”

Even Jungkook seemed impressed, an emotion he rarely showed while working with you. Most of the time, you just came to the same conclusions he would’ve; he’s still an amazing lawyer, he just found a way to not have to work as hard: and that’s you.

He stood up from his desk and walked over to you, the case folder still in his hand.

“Thanks babe,” He leaned down and swiftly kissed the top of your head, moving away quickly so as to avoid your clenched fist flying toward his face.

“Not guilty.”

The courtroom filled with chatter as the jury read their verdict, the judge hammering her gavel while the defense team all stood and celebrated with sweaty hugs and swift handshakes. You simply stood and exited, taking your things with you.

It was the end of a long day, and you were looking forward to going home.

“Y/n, wait!” You turned around after you were already halfway down the courthouses front steps; maybe 30 feet away from your car that could take you home, to your stand-offish cat and extremely comfortable bed. “Why don’t you come out with us tonight?” You looked at him suspiciously, his lip clutched between his teeth as he teetered back and forth from his heels to his toes. Why does he look like that?

“Why would I want to do that?” You turned fully to face him, arms crossed over your chest and your hip cocked out to the side.

“Because we just won what looked like an impossible case, and you definitely helped with that,”

“Helped?” He smiled lightly at your aggravated tone, before he descended the steps so he could stand closer to you.

“Okay, okay, you did all the work, but that’s why I think you should come celebrate with us. Just tonight, I’ll even pay for your drinks,” You thought for a moment, never really having been a person to turn down free drinks - well, free anything, actually.

“Fine, only for an hour though; then I’m going home,” You turned back around and continued down the steps, making a b-line for your car.

You stepped into the moderately crowded bar wearing the shortest black dress you owned, the plunging neckline really making sure everyone had their eyes on you.

“Damn, Y/n. You know you look really good outside of a pantsuit?” You plastered on a sarcastic smile, turning to see Jungkook; who you hated to admit looked damn good.

“Where’s my free drink?” The smirk on his face only grew wider as he raised his hands in defense, slowly backing up towards the bar.

“Hey, Kev, get my friend one of your finest alcohol beverages, please,” You rolled your eyes.

“A beer please, whatever you have on tap,” He nodded and walked away, only staying gone for a few short moments before reappearing with a full drink in his hands. “Thanks.”

“What do you even do in your free time? You never come out with us, and you showed up alone, which tells me you don’t have a man-”

“I prefer to spend my time being productive rather than getting shitfaced on a Monday night,” He smirked, taking a sip of his drink.

“So no boyfriend, then?” You sighed before taking a drink, probably a bit more than you needed for having just gotten there.

“Why do you want to know, Jeon?” He raised his hands in defense again, not doing a very good job at hiding his attraction to you from his face.

“Hey, I’m just making small talk,” He shook his head lightly, his cheeks tinted pink from the alcohol he’d already consumed. He leaned against the side of the bar you were now sitting at, his eyes moving all over your face, taking in each of your features carefully before moving on to the next. He’d always known you were pretty, but here, dressed like that and with a few drinks in his system, he could swear he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Why don’t you go away and come back in 5 minutes when I need a new drink,” He chuckled, letting his head fall slightly in defeat before he pushed himself from the counter and did what you asked.

“Oh wow, didn’t think they made lawyers this hot,” You chuckled at his response, his hand drawing patterns into your thigh as he stood in front of you, you sitting backwards of the stool to face him, drink in hand.

He wasn’t relationship material, by any means, but he’d do for the night. You had a lot of pent-up stress, and he could probably help out with that. Not to mention, Jungkook watching you leave with some random guy would probably knock him down a few pegs.

“Mmm, and I didn’t know they made people as pretty as you this bad at flirting,” He feigned hurt, hand not slowly moving up the outside of your leg moved to clutch his chest before his smirk resumed, and his hand moved to the bar, effectively pinning you between it and him.

“I might be bad at flirting, but let me show you something I’m good at,” his face was centimeters from yours, his fingers moving under your dress before they were abruptly ripped away from you, along with the rest of him. “What the hell, man?”

Jungkook was in the man's face, both taller and bigger than him as he stared him down.

“She’s not interested, go find someone else to hump,” His voice was so low you barely heard him, his eyes dark and muscles flexed as anger coursed through him.

“Uh, she seemed pretty interested to me,” Jungkook pushed him, he pushed him hard. He stumbled back into a table, knocking over everything on it and causing a few people to jump up.

You stood from your seat, no longer amused by the show in front of you.

“What the fuck, Jungkook? What are you trying to do?” Jungkook turned back to look at you as you pulled on his arm, trying to get him to focus on anything other than the guy that he seemed about ready to beat the shit out of.

“Hey, all of you, out.”

You glared over at Jungkook as you grabbed your bag. You shot down the rest of your drink before you turned to walk out of the building along with the two men who seemed to be fighting over you, the security making sure you all get out.

You opened your phone as soon as you were outside, opening the uber app as you were not about to drive home in your state.

“I’ll drive you home,” You looked up to see Jungkook, a lot calmer than just minutes before with his hands in his pockets and his hair blowing around in the wind.

“No thanks,”

“Y/n-”

“Aren’t you drunk?” He sighed, looking you up and down.

“I stopped drinking after you got here,” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Why would you do something like that?”

“Do you want the ride or not?” You looked at him for a moment before you sighed and straightened yourself out, turning toward him, accepting his offer.

You stopped outside of your building, Jungkook’s car shutting off as you unbuckled your seatbelt. You looked over at him as he clicked his off too, and opened his door.

“What are you doing?”

“You live in a shitty neighborhood, I’m making sure you don’t get murdered on the way up.”

“That’s fine, I literally do this everyday,” Jungkook rolled his eyes and got out of the car before he leaned back down to look at you.

“Just get out of the car,” You huffed but obliged, not really wanting to stay in it anyway.

You walked into the building and got into the elevator, which had a ways up to go before you got to your floor.

“Is there a reason you decided to fight people?” You asked, the bravery from the alcohol still coursing through your veins, even now as you felt mostly sober. He sighed heavily, leaning his back against the wall.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you scoffed, turning your body to face him fully.

“Well that matters not at all, why the fuck did you feel the need to do that?”

“I just didn’t like that guy, all right? He seemed sketchy,” His voice was raised as he answered, hands moving around with no real rhyme or reason.

“He wasn’t, and even if he was, so are most guys you meet in bars on a Monday at 8pm,”

“Yeah, no shit, that’s why I didn’t want that guy knowing where you lived or you going back to his place, that just has bad idea written all over it, Y/n,”

“And? What gives you the right to make my decisions for me? You spend most of your time making my life a living hell and bragging about all the women you take home but I’m not allowed to go home with someone?” You were definitely yelling at this point, and the elevator doors were definitely open and on your floor.

“No, you’re not!” He yelled back, and it honestly had you taken back a little bit. You scoffed before you stepped out of the elevator and started walking back to your apartment.

“Y/n!” He followed you out of the elevator, walking just as briskly and angrily as you.

“Why the fuck not?” You yelled, spinning around just in front of your door before you were pushed against it, strong arms closing you in and lips smothering yours in a way that you’d never experienced before.

You were pissed, sure, but there was something that turned you on about being pressed up against your front door by the extremely hot man that regularly pissed you off to no end.

You were quickly tangled together, one of your legs hiked up as he gripped your ass, his hips pushing you back into the door as he bit your lip, his tongue soothing it after before it quickly entered between your parted lips.

“Keys,” He muttered against you after trying to open your locked door, his lips glued to your neck as you rummaged through your purse to find them.

You quickly unlocked your door and rushed in, Jungkook quickly shoving you back against it to close it. You kicked your shoes off before he pulled your thighs up to wrap around his waist, your arms wrapped around his neck to hold you steady as he unbuckled his belt and pushed your panties to the side.

Less than sixty seconds ago you were screaming at each other in an elevator, now he was sliding his admittedly massive dick into you while biting down on the base of your neck.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so fucking wet,” You moaned lightly into his ear, his words and dick filling you perfectly as he fucked into you at a steady pace. His hands gripped your ass as his mouth left sloppy wet kisses on any exposed skin he could reach. “If fighting with me turns you on this much, I can only imagine the state you're in at work.”

His thrusts speed up as your pussy swallows him whole, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling it back, bringing his gaze to meet yours.

“Do you want to fuck me or piss me off?” His smirk returns as he watches you hold back moans as he hits your g-spot roughly, the door shaking behind you so hard anyone in the hallway would definitely know what’s going on.

“Both,” He pushed you further into the door, re-adjust himself to have a better grip on you before he pulled you away from it, legs still wrapped around him and his dick still in you. He turned around and walked straight over to your couch still fucking into you.

You fall back onto your couch, Jungkook on top on you, dick thrusting furiously as his fingers wrapped snugly around your throat.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you’re mad,” His free hand moved up your dress and cupped your breast, pinching your nipple and pulling it just as roughly as he fucks you. “Jesus christ, I don’t know how I’ve gone this long without bending you over my desk,” you moaned loudly, both hands gripping to the arm that held your throat as your eyes rolled back into your head.

He pounded into you relentlessly, your pussy clenched around him as his dick begged you to cum. His fingers moved to be around your clit, pinching and circling it as he felt you nearing your orgasm.

“You’re so good when you’re getting fucked, y’know that, baby?” You moaned as he thrust harder, his skilled fingers taking care of you easily, your orgasm overtaking you before he could even finish his thought. His pace slowed down considerably as he rode you through your high, fingers still moving for a few seconds before they moved to his mouth to be cleaned off, then to cup your cheek.

“Just lay there and look pretty while I make you feel good,” Jungkook’s thrusts stopped as your orgasm subsided, your pussy still clenching around his dick that was still buried inside you. His lips were on yours with sloppy kisses, much slower than before; this time they almost felt as if they had depth to them, like they had feelings aside from desire and loathing. “Want me to make you feel good again, princess?”

His hand rested on your chin, his thumb rubbing it as he looked back and forth between your eyes. You nodded softly, a soft ‘yeah’ escaping your lips as you looked at him the same way.

“Yeah?” His voice soft as he mimicked you, making sure you wanted him to. You did.

“Yeah,” though your words were inaudible to you, he must’ve heard them as his lips found yours again before he pulled out, and thrust back in hard and deep, deeper than he had been before.

He fucked you differently this time. With less desperation and more compassion, his hands dancing across your skin delicately as he stripped you of your dress; his lips gently gliding across your burning skin as it became exposed to him before meeting yours again. He kissed you with passion, taking time to really drink you in as his hands caressed every part of you he could reach, as if he had to replicate you completely from memory later on.

His hips moved with purpose, gliding in and out with rhythm and at a deliciously deep angle that he could feel how much you liked.

“So beautiful,” the words whispered in your ear, his hot breath tingled against you, sending shivers everywhere. “So good for me,” he moaned before kissing the skin below your ear, soft whimpers embedded in the back of his throat as he sent you over the edge for a second time, this orgasm much more powerful than the last; and his followed soon after.

Your bodies collapsed into each other, no longer having the strength to hold yourselves up anymore. His head laid on your chest as you gently brushed your fingers through his hair. Sleep soon came over you, the heat from Jungkook’s body covering you accompanied with the overwhelming sense of peace that followed your orgasm had no problem in knocking you out.

Your soft snores only made Jungkook smile before he reluctantly pushed himself off of you. He moved the hair from your face, seeing you look so peaceful was something he wasn’t very used to seeing, but something he definitely wouldn’t mind becoming acquainted with.

He got up and redressed himself, before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you back to your bedroom. As he laid you down and pulled the blankets over you, he wanted nothing more than to crawl in with you and drift off the peaceful land you’d already found yourself to be a part of, but he decided against it.

He knew that if you’d wake up with him in your bed, it’d make you weird. You wouldn’t insult him, call him an idiot and tell him off. You’d be awkward, which he had to admit, he definitely missed from your early days at the firm, but it wasn’t the you he’d grown to respect and admire.

So he left, knowing that the next day you’d walk into the office as if nothing happened. He’d be cocky, you’d get mad, and he could finally bend you over that desk like he’s always wanted.

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jmdbjk · 3 months

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They take up a lot of space in my head sometimes...

I didn't want to dwell on this in the documentary posts but I know you guys will indulge me as I ramble a little bit.

I want to elaborate on some thoughts I had while watching the second half of Episode 7 when Jungkook went over to Jimin's.

I watched it several times. I made sure to watch it once with a very critical and skeptical eye to keep myself from straying too far...nothing serious but possibly delulu...

This part of the documentary inside Jimin's apartment was filmed on March 13, 2022 following the last PTD Seoul concert.

This was BEFORE PTD Las Vegas where Jimin has told us he talked to the members about his troubles and that's when he embarked on writing the songs that would end up on his album FACE which was released A YEAR after this interview.

It seems Jimin answers his phone in the car after the concert. Tells whoever to get ready and come over and asks what kind of chicken to order. The documentary camera person is already in the car with Jimin... who is he speaking to on the phone? When we eventually see Jungkook coming over later on in this episode, it's natural to assume he was speaking to Jungkook on the phone, who was probably in another car on his way home to his own apartment after the concert, or perhaps already home since his apartment is much closer to Jamsil Olympic Stadium where PTD Seoul was held.

Inside Jimin's residence, he talks about what he does there, basically not a whole lot: eats, sleeps, drinks, has friends over, plays on the computer, and from what we've seen since, he's not much of a decorator.

He wonders if he's revealed too much. I think this was a legitimate question for him, since idols typically do not divulge this sort of thing to the fans. It's plausible to me that Jimin has to unlearn all these preconceived ideas he's had about being an idol in order to forge ahead.

Delivery fried chicken arrives and he runs to get it and runs back to the dining table. Literally runs. The door chimes as it closes. I do love watching him eat. He surely loves his food. A man after my heart.

He talks about how it naturally came about that they needed to have their own spaces. They were maturing young men, they needed their own places even though they'd lived together for so many years. He said their place in Gangnam was so small they put up temporary walls. I believe he was speaking about the house that is now a cafe, Hyuga? He says it was scary living on his own, it was so quiet.

When Jungkook arrives, the door chime sound we hear was different from what it sounded like when Jimin went to the door to get the delivery chicken.

From this footage, we can't know if Jungkook punched in the code and let himself in. Maybe he did, but this footage does not show that. Unless someone is familiar with how that particular door chime sounds when it is unlocked, when it is locked, when it opens and when it closes, we can't know what that chime meant.

We see Jungkook after he's already inside the apartment. He was followed by a camera person. I am certain the camera-person does not have Jimin's apartment's door code. Make of that what you will...perhaps Jungkook came alone and they re-enacted him entering once he got there because it'd be weird if he was just there all of a sudden... we can't know.

Incidentally (fun fact) this is the same jacket Jungkook wore in the video of receiving the President's Award during his university graduation earlier that month (Mar. 2, 2022)... yes, Jeon Jungkook is a university graduate too. He wore a jacket with "QUIT YOUR JOB" across the back of it, to accept a graduation award.... 💀

Anyway back to my delulu...

Jimin and Jungkook are chatting at the table while eating and drinking and get on the topic of their sleeping habits when Jungkook says normally he would take a bath, drink a couple beers and go to sleep and even adds now he goes to sleep earlier. Such a grown up.

Jimin says he falls asleep at 1 a.m. so he must be getting old but it doesn't matter if he falls asleep at 1 a.m. or 6-7 a.m., he sleeps until 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

Jungkook says he decided not to live like that anymore... this the man who in early 2023 was staying up all night to do live broadcasts with us from his living room and waking up his neighbors belting out Unholy, etc... such a grown up.

And then Jungkook says 'oops, I sounded like Yoongi just then, never mind, live how what you want' and whoever that is off-camera wheezing... HAHAHAHAHAHA. Anyway. That whole exchange was... what is it with them? They ride the edge of smart-assy sarcasm and inside jokery with each other constantly. And this time at the expense of Yoongi! HAHAHAHA.

Jimin and Tae sometimes act similarly with each other but it is more role play and nothing like the long-running inside joke Jimin and Jungkook do all the time.

The vibe between them was identical to the one when they were sitting at the dining table that first night of In The Soop 2.

As episode 7 goes on, they show Jimin and Jungkook again, Jungkook is chopping mushrooms and Jimin says "You are doing so well on your own" and "Be careful" and the translation says Jungkook said "okay" but it sounds more to me like a "ayyy stop nagging" sound he made.

Jimin runs behind Jungkook again. Why does Jimin run so much? He's like a nervous, excited little mouse.

They're terrible Youtubers:

The ship wars and solo wars and stupid-things-you-could-ask-during-a-live wars over whether or not Jimin ever ate Jungkook's ramen... FINALLY, after posting all those recipes last year and Jimin saying he wants Jungkook to cook that for him, we see JUNGKOOK HAS COOKED RAMEN FOR JIMIN! Cooked it for him way before any of these wars began too... what a waste of energy.

No, Jimin didn't go over to Jungkook's to eat it, Jungkook came to Jimin and cooked it for him.

Ok, but this is the part that made me need to pause and rewind and write this long-ass post:

Jimin tells us that a friend of his helped him realize he needed to explore the possibility he was depressed.

He recounts the story as they were at Jimin's apartment drinking and they had a small argument. The next morning Jimin wakes up, has totally forgotten the argument and goes over to the friend's to help begin moving. They apologized to each other and the friend came over again that night and the friend said "I think you are severely depressed. You act like you aren't, but you've been acting strange. If you're having a hard time, tell me." Jimin said he didn't think he was having a hard time and the friend told Jimin to take some time to think about it. Jimin says a lot changed after that.

This moment when Jimin is retelling this story, "yet you act like you aren't, but you've been acting strange. If you're having a hard time, tell me." Jimin reaches over and actually touches Jungkook. Look at the way they are looking at each other?

The way Jungkook sat there, looking straight at Jimin while Jimin recounted that conversation/day/moment, chewing on his bottom lip as is his habit, Jungkook nodding during certain points that Jimin was retelling... very very brief moments where body language reveals a lot.

Maybe the "friend" Jimin was supposed to help move, the one who told Jimin he seemed severely depressed... was Jungkook?

You can call me delulu if you want. I see what I see and I hear what I hear.

They have not shown this type of closeness amongst the other members in this entire documentary. And here is Jungkook sitting in Jimin's home, while Jimin tells us this very intimate detail about himself.

If Jungkook was the one... it's plausible, the one who came over to drink, just like they were doing this evening... the one who was moving and Jimin was going to help him. The one who he can look in the eyes and recount this story and his friend can look him straight back in the eye and nod in agreement.

Why retell this story with Jungkook sitting next to him? There were other moments when we know Jungkook is there, he could have been off camera while Jimin told the staff about this intimate moment with his friend. No. He said it while they sat next to each other looking at each other.

It's possible. If not, it seems possible that Jungkook has already heard this story.

Jimin shares more than we've ever heard from him: that he falls into a labyrinth the moment he starts to ponder about what happiness is. He says of course their work and many other things require attention to detail but it's ok if there is vagueness (or imperfection) too. If you get too caught up in the meaning of things (in the importance of things), you feel like you have to risk it all to accomplish them and its ok to let some of it go, enjoy the simplicity of things and not get emotional over everything ... this sounds like Jimin has matured and has tried to push away perfectionism.

He believes he is in a very healthy place mentally right now (at the time of that interview, March 13, 2022) but can't say the same about his body, but he wants to stay healthy as he grows older together with the fans. And Jungkook is still there, but off camera.

This interview was almost two years ago. And now their first solo career endeavors have been accomplished and these two are doing their military obligation together. They've come a long way. We will see them again next year. It won't be as long as it feels.

Anyway, going back to my delulu cave now. Carry on.

#i cried my eyes out #jimin and jungkook #jikook #kookmin #the more i think about the 'friend' the more dots connect #i could also be totally wrong #jungkook does know though #nothing will change the fact they are tight tight

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oraclesblog · 11 months

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🛑 Major SATSV Spoilers 🛑

I recently saw SpiderMan: Across the Spider-Verse and it was amazing. I love all the hype the movie is getting, but I’ve been seeing a lot of Gwiles (Gwen x Miles) slander for the dumbest reasons ever. So, I thought I would just debunk some of them because it’s clear you antis struggle with media literacy so let’s go.

1. “Gwen and Miles should’ve just stayed friends they were so much better platonic”

Saying this just makes me think you watched the first movie with your eyes closed because in what world were they ever “just friends”.

You can’t say they were better platonic when they were never even platonic to begin with. Both Miles and Gwen had a mutual crush on one another in the first film so they were never “just friends” + the first film was literally building up their relationship.

2. “Gwen betrayed miles in SATSV she’s fake”

No, no she didn’t, Gwen didn’t invent the laws of the multi-verse and she doesn’t run the spider society. It’s not Gwen’s fault that Spider-Man becoming an orphan or half an orphan is a multiversal constant. There’s nothing in her power she can do to change that and Miles being chased by all the other Spider people wasn’t Gwen‘s fault either that was Miguel’s.

Saying stuff like “she should have told Miles about what was going to happen to his dad” again just makes me think you watched the movie with your eyes closed because Gwen wasn’t even allowed to interact with Miles and if she told Miles (A SpiderMan that isn’t even part of the spider society) about what was going to happen to his dad Miguel would’ve found out and would’ve kicked her out of the spider society. She was almost kicked out in the first place for even talking to him imagine what would have happened if she told him about his dad and if she was kicked out she would’ve been homeless because her dad disowned her. She also states in the movie that she didn’t know how to tell him about it which makes sense because she hasn’t seen him in over a year so how would something that big and consequential come up in a conversation.

Not to mention, she’s young and inexperienced as a hero she’s gonna screw up and make mistakes she was put in a completely unfair circumstance by the adults around her and had an enormous amount of pressure put on her shoulders. Blaming the teenage girl for a situation like this instead of Miguel and Jessica or even Peter B is absolutely wild.

3. “They have No chemistry”

Now this one is just completely biased because you know damn well…

These stills alone just prove you wrong because no way you watched the movie, saw the way they looked at each other, and interacted and actually said “they don’t have chemistry”. 💀

4. Lastly I’ve seen people hate on Gwiles solely based on the fact that it’s an interracial relationship and the fact that this is a problem in 2023 is mind boggling. Some of y’all are just racist bigoted people who need to learn how to stfu.

#miles morales #gwen stacy #gwiles #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the verse #spiderverse spoilers #miguel o'hara #jessica drew #peter b parker #spiderman #spider gwen #marvel #comics #part 2 of defending my favourite ships 🤞😚#ghostflower #debunking

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fxdizz-y · 1 year

Text

GHOST X GEN Z + GN!READER

A/N: Hiii first fanfic on tumblr kinda nervous😣 I'm not going to take request just yet this is all for my cravings💀🙏🙏 I'd love if you teach me scottish slang too!

Pairing: (mainly) Ghost x gn!reader || slight Task Force 141 x gn!reader

C/W: Strong language, age gap, fluff, kinda suggestive flirts, Ghost being a boomer, dark humor, no use of Y/N, your call sign is 'Spring' (the metal one), teasing, not in the same timeline as the game, they simping hard for each other

T/W: unhealthy habits (skin peeling around the nails etc)

(Don't mind the song I just listen to it while writing)

『••✎••』

Your life was dull, nothing seems to made you excited anymore. Don't get you wrong, you have an okay childhood, even though you had force yourself to grow up at some point but you didn't mind all that much.

Not like you ever did, you're that 'nice' kid that let people borrow their belongings and seems to don't hold grudges.

But in truth, you weren't that nice. No, you did hold grudges, the only reason you didn't say anything was because you knew that it'll be pointless to argue and you just over all wasn't a social kid.

When you finally hit off to high school, you instantly realized that it'll be hell.

And you weren't wrong.

You were one of those alt kids that wear band shirts and heavy eyeliners. Admittedly it was kind of fun.. But the bullying just drove you to the edge.

But those were memories in the past.

You're 23 now, fidgeting your fingers and scraping the dead skins on your nails, standing next to a woman with dirty blonde short hair.

Her icy blue eyes stare right ahead of you both. She had introduced herself earlier, her name is Kate Laswell.

You both were waiting for some dude to show up, apparently he's supposed to come and get you so you can officially be in his little group.

After what feels like years, a man finally make his way to you, or more likely, Laswell.

– "Price."

Laswell said, turning towards the man, you took a step behind Laswell, hiding yourself from the taller male.

– "Laswell."

The man greeted, before continue.

– "And where is this rookie?"

'Price' ask, his eyes scanning the room. Laswell scoff and give your back a harsh pat, making you step out of her shadow.

– "Price, this is Spring."

– "What."

Price look at you and back at Laswell, clearly hoping this was some sorts of joke.

Unluckily, Laswell eyes tell the truth.

– "For fuck sake, that's literally an INFANT! "

Price exclaim, gesturing towards you while keeping his eyes on Laswell.

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes, keeping your composure.

– "Where the fuck is your manners? You either take them or have troubles missing a skilled hacker."

Laswell snaps, glaring at Price.

The corner of your lips tug up at that, feeling happy and flustered.

Price groans and turns to you, looking at you up and down, judging you hard.

– "Oh my fuckin.. You know I can't just put a baby with the toddlers, the big boys can be mean sometimes."

– "The baby are the meanest, trust me."

Laswell sigh out, pushing you towards the captain.

Price sigh in defeat, before just nod at Laswell.

– "I'll take them"

He grumble before mentioning you to go outside, which you obeyed.

When you made it outside you wait for the captain, which come after you after a few moment.

He gesture to the car and you sat on the backseat.

He quirk a brow up but didn't question it.

The way to your new base felt like forever, especially when none of you decide to talk. So being you, you hums to yourself to MCR.

You were into your own little world and didn't noticed how Price glance at the mirror sometimes to look at you.

He didn't speak of course, just silently observing and quite enjoy this rather than painful silence.

After quite some time the car park at an unfamiliar base, well to you anyways.

You scrambled out the car and went back to fidgeting your fingers, scrapping and peeling off the skin around the nail etc.

Price glance at you and pat your shoulder, a quiet sign for you to follow.

You follow without hesitation, stuffing your hands in your camo pants pocket and let your eyes wander around the place, taking mental notes on which path leads to where since you figured you'll be staying here for awhile.

Each steps you take only make your excitement grows, something that you haven't felt this strong for ages.

Your eyes sparkle with wonders like a child again and you have a great feeling about this, despite your captain bad first impression.

You both walk into a room and the captain told you that your team would be meeting you when they arrive, so you sit on the small locker and swinging your legs, feeling nervous.

You didn't let your mind wandered for too long when the door swing open and 3 men walks in.

And good grief.

They were huge. And you didn't mean it in the dirty way.

Like literally. Especially the one in the back. Despite being behind the two other men you can clearly tell that he's the tallest and the biggest, his skull mask stands out as his eyes stare right into you, you feel absolutely fucking naked under them.

Price motion for you to get down and as you hop down you could almost feel your knees gave up.

– "Hello sailor.."

You mumbled, eyes glued to the tallest man in the room. You could tell that he's about 6'2" and a half.

Luckily Price didn't heard what you just mumbled and continue on introducing you to the team.

You smile cheapishly at all of them, deciding that it was enough eye candy.

– "Aye Rookie?"

A man with faux haircut call you, whom recently introduced himself as Soap wink at you playfully.

– "Name's Spring, sir."

You said, winking back, returning the energy.

– "What's with the name?"

Gaz ask, patting your back.

– "I can do em big jump, sir!"

You exclaim proudly.

Gaz look at you with mischief in his eyes, despite being older you can already tell this guy means good trouble.

Soap, who's probably the closest to your age sling his arm over your shoulder.

– "How 'bout yer show us hm?"

He said, letting his arm fall from your shoulder.

You nod and looking around, looking for a perfect thing you can jump on.

Before it lands on one and only Lieutenant.

Soap immediately notice and give you an unsure stare, knowing how Ghost hate physical touches.

– "Lieutenant?"

You call out, a fuzzy feeling form on your stomach.

And it explode into thousands butterflies when his eyes snaps to you, before they turns gentle.

It may look like he's glaring down at you but you both know that if you look close enough, you'd see the soft, gentleness in it. As if he's being careful to not scare you away. Or maybe it's your imagination.

You sure hope it's fucking not.

Ghost couldn't even believe it. He doesn't believe in this whole love at first sight deal. Just ridiculous.

And ironic isn't it, Lieutenant?

He wasn't listening to your chit chats before so when a soft voice calls out for him he was surprised.

And he craves more of your voice. He wanna hear you say his name.

And god you're so tiny standing in front of him.

You look so.. So fragile to him.

– "Uhm.. Sir?"

You call out again, slowly placing a hand on his arm, fucking desperate to get his attention back.

You definitely awoken something in him with that.

And you knew it when you can feel him tense up.

Ghost focus back on you again, nodding for you to do whatever you want.

Soap and Gaz was FLABBERGASTED.

L.T being soft? Man they whish they could record this right now.

But that'll be a dead wish.

You jog behind him, before running up to him and jump high. And holy shit.

You didn't lie.

You could almost jump over him.

But you didn't since there wasn't enough space, instead you land on his shoulder.

You would be concern for the neck you could broke but you weren't in your gears so you weren't heavy.

You cheers when you land on him, almost sending him to the floor.

He pause. Unsure how to feel.

#ghost call of duty #ghost riley #mw2 x reader #simon riley #call of duty x reader #x reader #gen z!reader #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 #gender neautral reader #Spotify

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shitswiftiessay · 5 months

Text

“multiple posts in support of the lgbtq community”

her LGBTQ “activism” pretty much started and ended with the lover era. she released the musical equivalent of “it’s ok to be gay,” she waited until she was in a blue state on the eras tour to even barely address the anti trans legislation that was being passed in OTHER states (states she had just performed in where her speech would’ve made much more of an impact). and telling people to go vote without specifying who you’re voting for or bringing attention to the important issues is not activism. it’s merely a voting reminder. which is fine, but, y’know, it doesn’t make you an lgbt advocate. which she promised to be as she accepted an award for it.

and despite the fact that she’s reportedly “spending a lot more time” in fuckass missouri to be with travis, she’s yet to say anything about the anti lgbt legislation being passed in that state.

she also went off tumblr because people asked her to talk about BLM and swifties act like it was the cruelest thing in the world to expect of her 🙄 but she made a whole thing in her documentary about wanting to be on the “right side of history.”

and taylor did the black square too so if you’re gonna attack joe for that 💀

and she made some promises on twitter to be “loudly and ferociously anti-racist.” then she went on to date racist pos matty healy… and use ice spice as a shield. AND she also made sure that her publicist let everyone know that the “controversy” surrounding matty’s racism had NOTHING to do with her decision to split from him.

so… yeah.

these same miserable fucking swifties used to praise joe alwyn for speaking out against men abusing their power over women in hollywood but now their whole blogs are basically dedicated hate blogs to him. because he committed the crime of not marrying taylor so now they’ve decided he’s the worst man on the planet. 🙄

meanwhile taylor’s working with rapist directors, hanging out with SA apologists and high-fiving an abuser at football games. her feminism and “advocacy” is limited ONLY to herself and it’s painfully obvious she does not give a shit about anything that doesn’t directly affect her.

also, joe’s name wouldn’t have been added to that ceasefire letter if he didn’t WANT it added. it’s a risk to anyone in the entertainment industry to openly support palestine and no one’s name is going to be “just added” without their consent. signing that ceasefire letter may be bare minimum shit, but it’s still more than anything Miss Americana has said or done regarding this issue, which is absolutely nothing, and you have to ask yourself WHY.

also if you’re upset about people saying that taylor was encouraged to be more political because of joe… idk what to tell you that’s literally a canon event that came straight from taylor’s own mouth.

and it’s not that i think she’d be a trump supporter without joe but… it’s pretty obvious that since they’ve broken up (and even in the year leading up to the breakup) she’s not dared to do anything remotely resembling activism or being “controversial.” if anything she’s just too fucking narcissistic and self-absorbed to care about anything going on in the world, just like her bestie selena.

#anti taylor swift #shit swifties say #joe alwyn

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vxiphoid · 10 months

Text

PIXELATED ZEN

❨ summary ❩ genshin › genshin men playing minecraft with you ((ft. alhaitham, itto, cyno, diluc, kazuha, kaeya, heizou, & xiao))

tags ✧ modern au, drabble, fluff, chaotic energy, not proofread, cursing, ooc(?), established relationship, gn!reader, kaeya sets a forest on fire, alhaitham does not appreciate bees, mentions of pixelated deaths

amanuensis’ message ⊹ IM NOT TRYING TO KILL MY OTHER FANDOMS I SWEAR… im gonna back up from twst for a bit (im literally posting scarabia soon.) you can clearly tell who my favorites are… this unlocked a whole different part of my brain holy shit im deceased

⌜200+ e/chara ⌟

♫ blossom - t. shan

genshin masterlist

ALHAITHAM

╰┈➤ tbh he thinks minecraft is stupid, i mean, why not read a book instead of burning the images of pixels into your eye sockets😒 yeah, he’d just rather books. its a game about blocks, what could possibly be so interesting? he will admit the music is… nice. its nostalgic even though he’s never heard the track before. his favorite animals are the axolotl idk they’re his little pookies. its their little stick arms, they look so silly… as soon as haitham found out that you could color things its over, he make some sweet things like putting a sign on top of your shared house with both initials with colored dye. he’s so happy, just not very vocal about it, but he has the smallest of smiles. he definitely has headphones with the crochet sprout on it omg😭 alhaitham does not like bees whatsoever, they stung him for trying to get food. he just wanted honey :[

“look, the dog’s collar is blue. and the sign’s letters are green and then if you add a glow squid’s ink, it lights up.”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

ARATAKI ITTO

╰┈➤ he has waited YEARS for someone to play minecraft with him omfg. certified snack hoarder for times like these. you both literally hit each other to show love, you’ve accidentally killed him once bc he didn’t tell you that he had like half a heart… itto likes the water, hates the guardians because who do you think you are attacking him out of nowhere??? gets one shotted by the elder guardian while trying to fight it with a stick and then blames it on magma blocks pulling him down. GAMING WITH HIM IS NEVER CALM GODS💀 you cannot lay on him or anything bc as soon as those cave sounds or disc 13 start playing, he’s already done sprung out of his seat. his screams are actually really funny though, you got him a cat from how much he’s been assaulted by creepers. when you introduced him to shaders, he was so in awe. “babe i have a shadow!” type of excitement JAKEJEJDMnda.

“the cat’s name is sir arataki the third, you are now my loyal guard cat. who’s an adorable little guy?”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

CYNO

╰┈➤ look at this nerd (affectionate), ofc he plays cubecraft. loved it so much that when he didn’t have the actual game, he would play the really bad knockoffs💀 plays on console so you can sit between his legs, lean back, and game with him. cyno hate the split screen because he always gets confused on what side he’s on so he lets you use his switch, that way you’re both still comfortable. he’s more of an explorer if you do get mod packs for him, likes the horror ones the most. there’s nothing like hitting the enemy or shit talking the thing that could potentially one shot you with your s/o‼️ yall crouch a lot, its like a little dance. he really likes the disc “far” it itches his brain in the right way. definitely downloads the little raccoon mobs but then regrets it because he gives up all his berries to them, look at their little begging arms, literally how can you say no to that?? AND THEY WASH THE BERRIES. you both fall asleep to the ambience and to each others breathing all cuddled up ‘n warm. cyno absentmindedly sings the music while chopping wood or mining that shit has you SLUMPED. he kisses your head when you fall asleep, smiling like a silly goober.

“do-do-do-do do-do-do-do do, neow neow neow nneow neeeowwww… huh? oh, i’m almost done then we can go to bed, yeah? i’ll charge the switch too, don’t worry. just rest.”

(he’s singing that one part in danny lmfao)

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

DILUC

╰┈➤ diluc does not understand the concept of minecraft but its okay, he’s just happy to be here. he also doesn’t call it minecraft but “cave game”, the original name, he did his research though it is rare that he actually calls it minecraft. found out that you could breed animals and accidentally made a pack of wolves. diluc is really good with redstone its actually insane😭 he’s the type to protect you the whole time while you’re getting flowers for the house, boyfriend bodyguard. diluc doesn’t play much because of his job but when he does, he’s prepared to sit for hours and spend time with you :(. these are the times where he’s most affectionate, randomly kissing your cheek, getting water for the both of you before you play, etc. luc loves the mod pack “industrial”, he can build machines, how neat is that??? also it has way more OMFP with the added features it has yk? he likes the trains :D

“is the water running…? the water’s running, they have moving windmills!”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

╰┈➤ kazuha has the most expensive equipment yet doesn’t use this shit half of the time unless he’s streaming with heizou??? like im talking msi infinite rs pc, multiple monitors, a graphic drawing tablet, headphones with immaculate sound quality AND!!! the ear cups have fucking cyberpunk 3d wing guards on them. but anyways, minecraft, yes, he plays. in fact, kaedehara has about 10 beaten hardcore worlds every time a new update comes out, he must beat the game again. he rarely plays minecraft without his shaders so when you want to play the original og minecraft, he doesn’t mind, he actually enjoys the nostalgia. so much so the music is actually his background music when he’s just lazing around. words cannot express how much he dislikes (hates) wardens omg. he’ll protect you from them but if there were diamonds behind a warden, ig he’s going somewhere else😭 kazuha gives you random shit, weather that be something really sweet or questionable…

“love, do you want my rotten flesh? here<3 oh! and, i also got you some steak, you’re low on hearts…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KAEYA

╰┈➤ he’s heard of it, watched people play, just never played it. but when he does… he’s a menace. kaeya got his hands on flint and steel and set an entire jungle on fire… but he can be sweet sometimes! you’re the one protecting his ass while he walks around at night UNARMED to gather blue flowers for you. like you’re cute, but take a shield or something😭 he’s jumped off of a tall building before and landed on half a heart for a stack of bread you didn’t want. he’s rather oblivious to the mobs around him, he once thought shulkers were friends because they were just “silly little guys in little boxes” yk until they almost killed him. you bought him his own skin and introduced him to parrots and now its his favorite animal, he looks like a pirate!!! kaeya is chaotically sweet.

“yes, you almost died protecting me but how could you resist my everlasting love plus pixelated blue flowers?”

(has a cat unironically named ice spice LMFAO)

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

SHIKANOIN HEIZOU

╰┈➤ your boyfriend is good at literally anything else BUT minecraft. its the way this game constantly has it out for him too like what did bro do??🙁 heizou stream’s with kazuha every now and again and on those, he still doesn’t know what to do… he’d rather play on the servers, bedwars in particular. extremely good at bw, you’d rather NOT be his enemy😭😭 wins almost every single game even when he carries, rank 98 in the server. yet when it comes to a casual server between you and him, the chats are filled with his deaths and his hashtagged rages💀 heizou despises silverfish which is also why he hates going into strongholds, they could get stomped on for all he cares! >:( he has texture packs with really beautiful skies and then a picnic mod so he can stargaze with you and eats minecraft cake :(<3

“oh. babe, green is heading for our bed, no pressure or anything. i loovveee youuu😚”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

XIAO

╰┈➤ xiao has the MOST downloaded mod packs, shaders, and worlds. not very expensive mod packs most of the time but when they are, they’re always good. spends his time fighting off mobs at night, #1 totem holder. he even has his own custom skin!!! he’s kinda been waiting for you to ask so when you do play mc together, you already have your own room, but when you voluntarily move your bed into his room to sleep… he melts. xiao loves cuddling while the two of you play, he’d rather your arms around him than the other way around, feels more intimate. you have matching hoodies for occasions like this. he has the dragon mod pack and has his own golden and orange dragon named ‘li’. he doesn’t talk while gaming, curses silently when he gets hit, but other than that doesn’t talk. if you want to talk, he’ll listen, he likes hearing about your day :].

“no, keep talking. i’m listening. see, li’s listening too.”

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

Text

Before He Cheats | Dagger Squad Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: female pilot!reader x Dagger squad (platonic), reader x ex!oc (past romance)

Content Warnings: angst, cheating, profanity, ends with sweet revenge | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 3.8k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: One thing about cheaters, they’re always gonna get caught. Whether right when it happens or years down the road the truth always comes out. And one thing they should realize is revenge is a dish best served cold.

Note: I finally finished my first year of grad school!!! Fucking finally people. Now I can relax and get to the drawing board. I already have visions and outlines for all current requests in my inbox and be sure to check out my April/May upcoming works and my pinned works in progress for what’s coming and posted! Thank you for your patience and to the anon who requested this I hope you liked it!

Also y’all….is there like some freaky shit going on with the universe and my works 💀 cause three days after I posted Lover inspired by Taylor swift she and her man of 8 years broke up and now I’m posting a cheater imagine (this request is from end of February) when there’s stuff going about Glen 👀 this is just freaky now

—————

Friday night at the Hard Deck consisted of a full house ready to kick off the weekend with beer and music. For a few years now Y/n had been working at the bar serving drinks and singing from 8pm to 9 as a way to make extra cash while her college sweetheart Ryan, who was a Lieutenant Junior Grade, was stationed at Miramar. Having not been married despite being a couple for so long, Y/n lived off base with some roommates while her boyfriend stayed in the dorms, however, he’d come to her place after work and stayed on weekends.

It was rare to see a military couple not be the stereotypically, “we got married right after I commissioned so my partner can be my dependent and travel with me when I get orders.” No, that wasn’t Y/n and Ryan. After Ryan’s commission Y/n stayed to finish up her Master’s at the University of Miami where they met while he was sent to Japan for two years. Then he was stationed in Virginia, followed by Lemoore, and now he was at Miramar. The longest base he’d been at. Y/n had been with him in Virginia, but didn’t move to Lemoore as she had a three-year contract with her job at the University of Virginia.

Toward the end of his two years at Lemoore, Y/n called Y/n to inform her he was being stationed at North Island and the contract was to be at least five years. Wanting to be close to him after being apart for so long and filled with hope they’d finally settle after Ryan hits ten years in the Navy, Y/n transferred to the University of California San Diego as the history of music professor. She also took on a part-time job as a bartender Friday and Saturday since she was only teaching two sections that occurred on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Plus Penny allowed her to sing Friday nights as an added bonus knowing she loved music.

Y/n settled rather quickly in North Island. With her two jobs she developed a friendly social circle consisting of the UCSD staff on campus and regulars at the Hard Deck. Several of the aviators took a liking to her. They knew Ryan and would often meet up every Friday after work to catch up on the week and watch her sing. Y/n always had their rounds ready the moment they walked in, “got ya seven cold ones.”

“Already?”

“The newbie over there didn’t read the sign. Round’s on him.”

They’d cheer Y/n on when she sang, literally the loudest bunch in the whole bar. “Sing it girl!”

“Ariana ain’t got nothing on you!

Phoenix sometimes sat at the bar when she needed to get away from the guys. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Penny gave me the night off since I got papers to grade…but If I get done early I’ll be free.”

“Please, I am in need of a girls night. Hell I’ll even come help you grade if you tell me what to do.”

“Damn, Nat, were the guys too much this week?” She placed another beer in front of the pilot, removing the empty one to discard. “This one’s on me. You look like you need it.”

“You have no idea, Y/n. All week we’ve been training for an upcoming mission and they’ve been driving me nuts.”

Ryan had his own group of friends from the base who’d come toward the later hours of the night. They’d usually take up the space at the bar, Ryan greeting Y/n with a kiss and telling her how the day was. He’d nurse a couple beers before he and Y/n would retreat to her apartment when the place closed at eleven.

They’d been together for several years, coming up on their eighth anniversary when Y/n discovered his infidelity.

And it wasn’t just a one-and-done “I was drunk and stupid, she doesn’t mean anything,” type of deal. No, this was a long going affair lasting almost a year.

What was the kicker? The other woman was a married coworker of his.

Now Y/n may have had the reputation of being the sweet, down to earth, understanding person who would never hurt a fly. But as soon as her eyes landed on Ryan, her partner of eight years, shoving his throat down another woman’s throat while grabbing her ass like it would vanish from thin air…..she saw red. Kill Bill sirens blasting in her mind. Y/n wanted to ruin both of them seeing she wasn’t the only person betrayed. The woman’s husband was also being deceived.

And what was punishment for adultery and extramarital sexual conduct? Well, according to the Uniform Code of Military Justice those in the military who are married or have affairs with married personnel are dishonorably discharged, forfeited of all pay and confined for one whole year.

Was it harsh? Maybe some would see it that way. But cheaters need to be taught a lesson.

And Y/n was gonna make sure they got it.

For a whole week Y/n put on a brave face. Accumulating photographs and screenshots of text messages, emails, and bank statements to show proof of the affair and how long it had been going on. She secretly got in touch with the husband of the Lieutenant Ryan was sleeping with, presenting him with everything. Heartbroken and angry, he agreed to remain quiet until the meeting Y/n had set up on that following Friday with their partner's supervisor.

“I know this is a lot to ask,” she exhaled, tired from everything and having to act like she was fine. “But come Friday they’ll be faced with the consequences of their actions. I’m sorry you’re having to go through this as well.”

“It’s not your fault—you’re not the one who cheated on me. You’re the one who found out and had the decency to tell me. We both got screwed,” he rubbed his face with his hands, wedding ring flashing under the light. When it caught his eyes all he could do was glare at it. “The only thing making this somewhat bearable is the fact they’re gonna be hit with the ultimate blindside.”

Y/n nodded to his ring, “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m contacting a divorce lawyer once I leave here. Hopefully the papers will be drawn up quickly so I can bring them to the meeting. Make it a double whammy. You?”

Y/n threw back the rest of her gin & tonic, letting out another tired sign, “I booked a flight to Cabo. Spring break is next week so I’m gonna take a well needed week long vacation and then figure it out from there.” Sunny skies with margaritas and radio silence seemed to be the best therapy at the moment.

For the next three days Y/n maintained a strong façade. Whenever Ryan went to kiss her she’d kept it short or moved to where his lips hit her cheek. She continued to send screenshots to her phone and delete the conversations so he wouldn’t notice. When she surprised him at work for lunch the day before the meeting it really threw both the cheaters off.

“Y/n,” his eyes went wide, “what are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d surprise you for lunch,” she held up a bag of homemade stir fry, bidding a glance at the woman who also was white a sheet. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Y/n.”

“Becca.”

“Becca,” she repeated, a smile tight on her lips. While doing so she gave an obvious glance to Becca’s ring finger, finding the diamond. “Beautiful ring you’ve got there. Are you engaged?” Becca became flustered, but kept calm.

“Married.”

“Ah, your husband has a great eye for jewelry. You’re so lucky.”

Ryan was quick to cut the conversation short after the mention of Becca’s husband. Visibly uncomfortable with how Y/n was throwing their aldurty in their face despite not knowing she was aware of it.

The next day Y/n marched into their superiors office, dressed like a corporate CEO ready to fire the entire team for an unforgivable mistake, with two boxes on each arm. One filled with all the evidence of Ryan and Becca’s affair, the other containing all of Ryan’s belongings he had at Y/n’s apartment. Becca’s husband, Tim arrived a minute later with a folder of divorce papers in his hands.

They met with the supervisor first. Y/n introduced who she was and who Tim was, presenting the box of evidence and explained while the Captain shuffled through the papers. Visibly disgusted, the Captain thanked Y/n for bringing it to his attention and promised the adults he would handle the rest.

“Are you calling them in right now?” She asked.

“I was planning to this afternoon, why?”

“I’d like to be present if you don’t mind,” a hand came up to the other box she had, “These are his things and frankly, I want to see the look on his face.”

“Me too,” Tim piped up and waved the folder in his hands. “These need to be served to Becca.”

The supervisor simply shrugged and said, “if that’s what you want, fine by me.” He hit a button on his phone, “Wilkins, please inform Lieutenants Stevens and Leeds they need to report to my office immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” Though her heart was racing, Y/n remained poised and took a seat against the wall of the room. Tim sat beside her, both setting their gaze on the door to await their soon to be exes.

Roughly ten minutes later, a knock on the door sounded and the Captain gruffly said, “enter.” The door opened to reveal Ryan, whose eyes went straight to his superior before scanning the room ultimately resulting in him to freeze where he stood. Turning white as a sheet, Y/n could only imagine what was running through her ex boyfriend’s mind. There was great satisfaction seeing his eyes flicker from her to Tim to the Captain.

“Have a seat, Lieutenant,” the older gentleman's finger pointed to the seat in front of his desk. It seemed to snap Ryan from his daydream, the man stumbling into the room and unable to form words.

When he sat the first thing he tried to say was her name to which the Captain voiced, “I didn’t say you could speak, Lieutenant. Keep quiet, we’re waiting on one more before we get started.”

Becca’s reaction was pretty much the same when she arrived two minutes later. “T-tim,” she stuttered, red as a tomato and fear etched on her face.

“Rebecca,” his tone was blank, matching his expression. Just the full name combined with the parties in the room indicated to Becca she was about to have the worst day of her life.

But hey, maybe she shouldn’t have cheated then.

And Ryan? Mans was shitting bricks where he sat. Couldn’t even bring himself to look at Becca when she sat in the chair beside him. He kept trying to plead to Y/n with his eyes but she wasn’t having it.

The Captain got right to it. He laid out all the evidence on the desk for the two to see, Becca immediately breaking into tears while Ryan tried to explain. What could he explain though? How could he defend a year long affair with a married coworker in front of her husband, longtime girlfriend and superior.

When it came time for the Captain to discuss where to go from there, Y/n excused herself by dropping the box of Ryan’s things into his lap, “Here’s all your shit,” it nearly spilled onto the floor when the action surprised him. “Don’t call, text, show up at my place or at the bar tonight otherwise I’ll call the cops. I’m done with you, Ryan. Thanks for wasting eight fucking years of my life.”

“Wait, Y/n, please—,” she cut him off when he went to stand.

“You’ve not been dismissed yet,” that got him to freeze, noticing the Captain smirking in the corner of her eye. She turned to Tim, “Thanks for your help. Good luck with everything and I hope it works in your favor.” Becca gasped, realizing what the folder in Tim’s hand represented. It spurred on another wave of tears.

“Thanks,” he gave a tired smile, “And good luck to you.” With that Y/n was out the door and Ryan was out of her life. First thing she did was go home, change, and drive to the Hard Deck. Penny immediately poured a glass for her, “long day?” Y/n accepted the beer with a nod.

“Glad it's almost over.”

“What happened?”

Y/n felt the tears welling in her eyes. The emotions she had been holding the past two weeks had finally broken free. Concern formed on Penny’s face. “Ryan was cheating on me for the past year.”

“No,” the woman gasped. Never had she thought Ryan, who always came to the bar to keep Y/n company and watch her sing and her partner of almost a decade would betray her like that. “Did you just find out today?”

“Last Monday. I went to bring him his dry cleaning he left at my place and found him making out with his married coworker.” Another gasp left Penny. “I’ve been playing actor the past two weeks to make him think everything was okay while I gathered proof. Told the woman’s husband a couple days ago and we both met with their superior today. Gave him his stuff while I was at it.”

“I’m so sorry honey,” Penny reached over to pat her hand, “he’s an asshole and you’re worth so much more than him.” Y/n softly smiled at that, mumbling a thanks. Penny served her another glass, “Take the night off okay, I can call Elise to take your shift.”

If Y/n was being honest the offer sounded like a dream. She wanted to go home and cry herself into a bucket of ice cream while watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine until she passed out. But part of her also wanted to sing her pent up feelings out. “Thanks, Penny. I’d still like to sing though if you don’t mind. I could use the release.”

“Of course,” Penny waved a hand, “Whenever you feel like it I’ll have Jose set up the mic. Your guitar’s in the back where I keep the stock.”

For the next couple hours Y/n caught up on grading some papers at a booth while she waited for 8 to roll around. By 6 most of their regulars from the base arrived, signaling the end of the work day. Nat was the first to spot Y/n, strolling over and immediately noticed by the professor's body language that something was off.

“What happened?” She sat across from her.

“What makes you think something happened?”

Nat gave a look, “first, you’re not working the bar.” Y/n shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

“Penny gave me the night off. I’m still singing though so I thought I’d hang out for the time being—catch up grading before spring break next week.”

“The tone in your voice is off.”

Y/n scoffed even though the pilot was right, “It’s not off.”

“What’s not off?” Rooster comes up, pushing Nat aside so he could slide into the booth.

“Y/n’s acting off and won’t say why.”

“I’ve been grading papers for the last two hours,” Y/n rolled her eyes, “sixty to be exact and all are six pages each. If I sound off it’s probably because I’m tired.” Again, Nat doesn’t appear convinced.

“But you’re still gonna sing even though you probably would rather be home sleeping the day away?”

“Friday nights are what I look forward to during the week,” Y/n scribbled a grade at the top of the paper in front of her, placing it on the stack, “I get to see you guys and sing whatever I want. I wouldn’t miss this.”

“Is Ryan coming?” It was an innocent question and one to expect from her friends given they had no idea of the events that’d taken place. However it didn’t stop the sharp intake of breath Y/n did.

“No, he’s not,” she quickly added before they could ask why, “he got held up at work. His supervisor needed to discuss some things with him.”

“Uh oh,” Rooster made a face, unaware of the boiling anger surfacing in Y/n. “That can’t be good.”

“Yeah,” Y/n clicked her pen, finishing up the last paper. Nat decided not to press further on what was bothering her friend. If Y/n wanted to say then that was up to her.

So to brighten her mood Nat bought her a round and challenged Y/n to a game of pool. Y/n packed up her things, placed them behind the bar and then greeted the other daggers.

“There’s our favorite singer,” Jake announced with a smile. “We were wondering where you were.” Y/n took the cue Rooster handed her.

“Just trying to get through the semester, Hangman.”

The two women played best out of three with Y/n winning the first and final game. By the time they finished it was pushing 7:50 so Y/n informed Penny she was getting her guitar. Once retrieving the instrument she returned to the floor to see Jose had set up the mic and stool for her.

Grabbing a glass of water, Y/n took the stage and set the glass beside the stool before clearing her throat, “Hey everyone.” There were a few hoots and whistles from her friends and regulars at the bar. “How’s your night going? Good?” There were some ‘yeahs’ from the crowd, people moving to get drinks and settle close to the stage. “That’s great to hear. Just sit back, relax, and feel the music.”

Y/n played several songs, all acoustic, starting with Taylor Swift’s ‘Getaway Car’ followed by ‘Back to Black’ by Amy Winehouse. She changed the tune by playing Bill Withers ‘Ain’t No Sunshine,’ but changed ‘she’ to ‘he’ that not many caught. She played ‘Norman Fucking Rockwell,’ by Lana Del Rey and ‘Somebody That I Used To Know,’ from Gotye.

Coming up to the final five minutes of the hour, Y/n gulped the remaining bit of her water and put on a brave face. “This last song,” she paused to close her eyes, “fits the theme you’ve been hearing all night, but is a little more close to the heart. It’s dedicated to someone who’s not present in the crowd which really is a good thing because he knew what was best for him,” very quickly Y/n saw the confusion appear on her friends, some whispering to each other to ask if they knew what she was talking about. “If you can relate to this song because you’ve been on the receiving end of betrayal then my heart goes out to you for I feel your pain. If you can relate because you’ve been that one to betray someone, well, I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

Letting her fingers drum against the strings, the beginning chords of ‘Before He Cheats’ by Carrie Underwood echoed through the bar.

“Right now, he’s probably slow dancin’,” her voice carried into the mic, raw with emotion. “With a bleached-blond tramp and she’s probably gettin’ frisky. Right now, he’s probably buyin’ her some fruity little drink. ‘Cause she can’t shoot whisky.”

Out in the crowd Nat cursed under her breath, anger rising at the realization, “That sly bastard.”

“What?” Mickey whispered, the guys leaning in.

“Right now, he’s probably up behind her with a pool stick. Showin’ her how to shoot a como. And he doesn’t know….”

“Don’t you see?” She gestured with a hand to Y/n, “Ryan cheated on her! That’s why he’s not here. That’s why his supervisor needed to see him. It’s why she’s dedicated this song, a song about a cheater, to him!”

All the sirens ring in their heads as Y/n belts the chorus.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, I slashed a hole in all four tires. Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.”

“Oh,” the word left Jake’s lips, fury in his green eyes. Y/n was his friend, and nobody hurts his friends. “Oh he’s gonna regret that.”

“You guys thinking what I’m thinking?” Rooster crossed his arms over his chest. All of them shared a look. Nat took one look at Y/n and saw how she was holding back tears.

Kill Bill sirens flooded her brain.

“Yeah, I think we are.”

Come Monday Ryan was emptying out his desk while he awaited his discharge hearing, dark circles under his eyes and in dire need of sleep. As he carried the box out to his car, it fell from his hands with horror coating his face.

Parked in the same spot his beloved red Mustang Charger was not the way he left it. The windows were shattered, tires slashed, the leather of his seats torn. His license plates were missing and the word cheater spray painted in white along the sides.

Hiding behind the building, the guys were biting back their laughter at his reaction. Bob holding the spray paint can, Mickey with the Louisville slugger and Bradley and Jake with pocket knives. Reuben had the plates behind his back and Javy kept checking the phone where he had hacked into the building's security cameras to make sure they were disconnected.

Right on time, Nat came running around the corner in her PT gear, slowing her run when she approached a visibly distraught and furious Ryan. Removing her headphones the pilot whistled, “Damn. That’s gonna be a field day to fix.”

Ryan snapped his head to her, “Do you know who did this?” His tone was accusatory and Nat couldn’t blame him. He knew she was friends with Y/n and frequented the bar every week. He wouldn’t put it past Nat being involved. “Was it you and her? Huh? Y/n had to get one last final laugh—as if she hasn’t done enough!” Nat only scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t throw accusations so loosely, Ryan. I’ve had PT all morning and Y/n left for Cabo yesterday.” There was no lie in her statement. Y/n was currently sitting at the poolside of her resort with a margarita in her hand. She’d posted on her instagram stories and let Nat know when she landed. Plus the pilot did have PT and was finishing up her run before heading to the flight line.

But she was the mastermind while the boys did the dirty work.

The truth only angered Ryan more, his face turning even more red. “Then who did this?!”

“How should I know?” Nat smirked, putting her headphones in as she started to move past him. “But maybe next time you’ll think before you cheat.”

………..

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