#shame secrets and lies | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kierahn · 29 days

Text

DRIVEN. [ y ! assassin x m ! reader ]

[ nsfw, minors DNI ]

yandere! assassin x journalist! male reader

warnings :

nsfw

forced non-con [in bold letters]

dead dove

reader death

slight torture warning

semi-necrophilia ?

hi, i'm back after three months of dying🧍‍♂️ it might take me awhile before i post a fic again, but here's an update for you guys.

malachi was a man whose services could be availed with just the right amount of money. he isn't the type to settle for less, confident that he was beyond excellent at doing his job.

ask him to dispose of someone and it would be as if they never existed in the first place. most of his victims' bodies had never been found. that, or they would be beyond recognizable when found. traces of his victims' existence would be gone in a pull of a trigger, with only their names to be remembered by their loved ones.

you were a journalist, renowned for your boldness and endless pursuit for the truth. unlike malachi, your silence can't be bought by any amount of money. you never hesitated to shed light on several issues which made you a formidable force in the eyes of the elite. after all, a journalist who values transparency above anything is someone to be feared by their kind; shrouded with secrets that they dare not reveal to the media.

you were well aware of the risks that came with your job, but that never once detered your work. truly remarkable, but idiotic in a sense.

you knew that it would all come to bite you back someday. with all those companies that you had brought down and names that you have ruined; maybe this was your karma catching up to you.

even as you stood at the receiving end of malachi's gun, regret never once entered your mind. you will never regret challenging the elites. they were nothing but a bunch of cowards, hiding behind their status and disposing of anything that threatened to destroy it.

over the past few months he had been keeping a watchful eye on you, malachi hadn't expected you to barely flinch despite having a gun pressed against your forehead.

"what an interesting reaction," the male on the other end mused as his calculating gaze studied your unfazed expression.

you truly were a bold one, always so headstrong and indifferent. even when threatened with a bullet through your skull, you stood your ground, not even a yell for help or a plead for him to spare you.

"why am i not surprised," a sound of amusement escaped malachi's lips. "you've always been so fearless. perhaps, you were already expecting this to happen."

he wasn't entirely wrong, you've long envisioned this scenario inside your head.

you stood with an oddly placid expression before the barrel of his gun, but your hands told a completely different story. they trembled against your sides, a stark contrast to your calm demeanor.

you were scared.

you could only hope that he could do it quickly to save you from further embarrassment.

"there's no point in prolonging this, is there ?" you spat out in spite, opening the door for death who stood at your doorstep.

your eyes were always so full of challenge, malachi wanted to rip that away from you. he had always wanted to see you with a different expression; whether it was fear or something more.

"a shame," he slightly lowered the gun in his hand, now pointed right where your heart lies. "i've grown quite fond of you, journalist." malachi shamelessly confessed.

something you two had in common was being highly driven by your work. unfortunately for you, malachi still had a job he was committed to.

‘ bang! ‘

he didn't fret over the possibility of the gunshot being heard by a passerby. if anyone were to investigate the source of the sound, he would simply dispose of them too.

malachi watched intently as you dropped to the ground.

and there it was. your fearful expression.

your eyes were wide with tears as you clutched your side where the bullet lodged itself, your breathing laboured as your mind quickly worked to try and numb out the excruciating pain you felt. curses left your lips, the warmth of your own blood trickling down your wrist.

he wasn't quite contented in ending things there. normally, he would go for a swift kill and dispose of his victims afterwards. however, he had purposely shot you in a spot that didn't instantly put you to rest.

the sound of footsteps nearing your fallen form reached your ears before your hand was forcefully ripped away from your bleeding side and pinned beside your head, leaving you more vulnerable than you intially were as your killer straddles your bloodied waist.

malachi's eyes scanned your tearful expression with a hint of content. absentmindedly, his free hand moved to caress your open wound.

"!!" an excruciating scream left your lips when malachi suddenly dug his finger through your bullet wound.

his grip around your wrist tightened when you started to thrash around under him, your survival instincts kicking in. you tried to throw him off of you, but your frantic movements only caused your wound to open up more.

malachi clicked his tongue in disapproval, removing his finger from your wound. "now you're just making things harder for yourself."

“HN!– ha.. f.. uck you,” you curse him through gritted teeth. your expression hardened as you shut your teary eyes tightly, trying to minimize the pain.

he leans down to move his face close to yours, examining the tears that slid down your reddened cheeks and the saliva that trickled down your chin. malachi drew his hand that was stained with your blood, brushing it under your eye and leaving a streak of crimson red.

"you know," he starts softly, feeling you tremble underneath him. "this look suits you better than the stoic one that you always wore.”

"i bet i can make you show so much more than that," malachi chuckled darkly, his words holding anticipation. "consider this a parting gift for my dear journalist."

the male roughly grabbed your cheeks to prevent you from struggling when he leans in to capture your lips into a forced kiss. his other hand left your limp wrist to rest, slipping under your bloodied shirt and brushing over the bullet wound up to your chest.

his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the tight grip on your cheeks. anyone could tell that malachi was, to some degree, fond of the man under him.

he soon broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. his lips land on your shoulder where he suddenly bit down to leave his mark, making you flinch and let out a pained groan.

malachi pulled his lips away and gently licked the bleeding bitemark to try and soothe you in a way. he straightened back up to examine his handiwork.

your eyes seemed to be in a daze, your breathing slowing down. it was a clear indication that your conciousness was beginning to slip. but before life could completely escape you, malachi lands a harsh slap to your cheek.

"don't be so ungrateful, y/n." he warns, grabbing your cheeks roughly once more, his hand that was under your shirt leaving to grasp onto your thigh. "leaving without accepting my gift. no, no. i won’t let you do that.”

malachi released his grasp on your cheeks by roughly tossing your head to the side, he worked to unbuckle your belt before slipping your trousers down to your knees. he was seething. you couldn't leave him just yet, not without him seeing your expressions as he's (literally) fucking the life out of you.

your vision swayed as the blood loss eventually made you cease your struggles. the light in your eyes was slowly fading and so was your warmth.

but that didn't stop malachi from getting his entertainment. after pulling down his own trousers, malachi rammed himself into you in one single thrust, leaving you with no preparation as you jolt at the sudden intrusion.

you weakly claw at the male's clothed chest. there was just so much pain, from the bullet wound on your side to the bitemark on your shoulder, and now the size that stretched you out dry. you could feel something warm trickling down your thighs, a a texture you could recognize.

you sobbed quietly as the pain doubled when malachi started to move without giving you the time adjust to his size. the tip of his cock worked its way on your insides, trying to find the spot that would make you melt under him.

his eyes watched as your pained expressions turn into one of hesitance. readjusting himself, malachi sets his pace. he knew that he finally found the right spot when he felt your thigh twitch in his grasp and your walls tighten around his dick. lo and behold, your look of hesitance contorted into a disturbed one as you quickly throw an arm over your face to cover yourself.

a shameful moan escaped your lips as soon as he finally hits the spot that broke it all for you. it wasn't long before you turned into a hot mess under him. your chest rose and fell in a rapid rate as you whimpered and moaned under him.

malachi's free hand roughly removed the arm that covered your slutty expressions. you looked so lewd with his cock inside you, drool spilling from your lips and your eyes rolled back in undeniable pleasure.

now this was the sight he had been longing to see.

the pain from your wound was long gone as intense pleasure eventually replaced it. malachi quickened his pace when he noticed how your cock twitched, indicating that you were near your climax. he wasn't that cruel to deny you of orgasm in your last moments.

or maybe he was.

before the knot in your lower abdomen could come undone, malachi grabbed a hold of his gun and shot you straight in between your eyes, lodging a bullet through your skull and finally putting you to rest.

your warm blood stained his lower abdomen, trickling down to his cock that continued to drive into you who had long went limp under him, your eyes deprived of life.

he gave a few more thrusts before finally spilling his warm seed inside of your ass. his breaths were heavy as he kept his cock buried inside your now freezing and stiff body.

malachi soon pulled out of your corpse, fixing his trousers and standing back up. he sheated his gun back on its holster as he gazed down at your limp body.

he knew he was fucked up, but this was on another level.

he smiled smugly.

maybe you should've picked another job in the first place.

#male reader #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere #kiahndere

477 notes · View notes

getoswhore · 2 years

Text

‘ EVEN BEST FRIENDS HAVE SECRETS! , suguru getō.

𖦹 — featuring . . . perv! getō x f! bimbo! reader

# % !! synopsis . . . est. 2.0k wc + trying hard to study and be just like your older brother, it gets quite difficult, but a close sorcerer is always more than happy to help an idiotic girl...

# % !! warnings . . . sws + dub con (?), secert sex, risky public sex, cunnlingus (getō eats it from the back), age gap (reader is early 20’s, getō is mid 30's), mentions of breeding, creampie, heavy manipulation, squirting, spanking x1, pet names, reader calls getō master getō, praising.

+ request . . . “girl anything you write about geto is golden, but like him catchin feelings for satoru’s younger sister. ♡ the plot is all yours to mess around with, i just love the idea!” — @ella-simps !! >.<

the old, worn pages are cold between your fingers as you flip them idly, draining the information out the written text and etching it into your nimble brain the best you could with clicking time...

“hey.”

the focused and deep furrowed gape you stare at now rises — startled at the sudden voice creeping up behind you, even feeling a barred hand crawl against your back with a flat palm, tickling at the nape of your neck.

head craning over quickly, your tired eyes peer up to the voice, matching it to the loving face you know and adored, “oh! hey, suguru.” your lips curl softly, trying hard to wipe away the dry and tiredness marinating in your features.

“that book is full of shit by the way. it doesn't even cover all of the true meanings of curses.” suguru taps at the hard, ridden cover with his knuckles.

“oh... really?” your head drops back down, frowning and flicking at the corner of the pages, seeing how far you've already go into this book, and now hearing getō, your higher up, say that this is practically lies — a book without philosophy, without a sense of the real world or true meaning of curses, just futile words on a page, a useless time to waste...

huh.

“yeah,” his hand pats at your shoulder gently, almost reassuring you as he wonders mindlessly towards the shelves of worn spines of banquet books, scanning them with ill intent, “only people who dealt with curses can truly explain what they are.” suguru says in a voice not as amiable as before — almost ominous...

luring even.

“... well, i know you're an amazing sorcerer who's dealt with plenty of curses, so can you teach me then, master getō?!—”

“absolutely not. you're too young to have that type of information rotting in your brain.” he scowls, brown hues not even focused on you but you can feel the poisonous farce he glares with at the shameful books he evidently doesn't accept cluttering around you.

“please... sugu?”

shortening his name now? cute...

the tips of his fingers skim down the spine of a book, “it can make you lose some sleep, plus i know gojo wouldn't want you learning this yet, i know him — a brother would want to easily teach his younger sister, not his friend.” his back turns towards you, thinking he might just be frowning upon the old books, yet only if you're foolish self knew he was trying hard to hide that rising smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

your chair squeaks across the tiled floor as you rise up quickly with a pout, arms crossed and ready to sulk yourself towards him, “i promise i wont tell, please?” you trudge yourself close to his side, peering up at him with doe eyes and a gentle frown.

it's working, just as he thought — got you hooked and intrigued, ready to do anything to learn the ugly truth...

such a stupid girl.

“i don't know...” getō doesn't spare you a second, continuing to read the spines of books.

“at least tell me one thing! just one, please?”

oh, you looked so pretty pouting — practically begging with doe eyes futtering up to him.

“curses can breed with humans.”

what..?

his eyes shift down to you, beady and brown with hues of swirling greys putting on an earnest gaze.

“they'll ease themselves into someone, most commonly, non sorcerers — ‘cause they know they won't feel a thing, knowing some could even end up pregnant without understanding truly by what.” getō watches your eyes shake, almost disgust marinating your features and simmering with frustration.

he sucks the cold air through his teeth, “i mean, curses can breed with anyone, but they do tend to enjoy the innocent most.” his held tilts softly to the right, his hand reaching to brush the index of his finger along your jaw.

“so, make sure to keep an eye out.”

“what?! what do you mean?!” your eyes bat wildly, frantic and confused — and unconsciously leaning in closer to him; feeling that security and safety to be in his aura, like a small child would when their disturbed, running to their most loved and closest protector...

you hadn't even noticed — nerves shocked and worry overbarring your franzic mind, and he took this to his advantage; twinning mezily hands around your sides and tugging you harder into his broad chest.

“yeah... and there's only one way to keep them far...” getō’s tongue flicks out, slicking his lips, “to already be claimed.” he watches your face mush into disarray, ready to do anything to keep those filthy curses away from you.

“how... how so? how do i—”

“we can seal a protection together with just a few things to complete it, nothing too much.”

he sounds... eager..?

you lean in.

“the first step is just a simple kiss.”

simple? a kiss? a simple kiss?

your brother's best friend is asking... to kiss you...

“don't look at me like that, it's just a kiss, nothing more? unless you wish to become pregnant by some thing.” getō reels you back in, using those threatening terms to flee you back against him.

“ok, ok... just promise me you won't tell gojo—”

“trust me, angel. i won't...” getō scoffs before curling forward; a gentle hand soothing its way up your side and cupping the fat of your cheek as he puckers his lips against yours, smearing a hard wet press.

your tummy coils — barely grasping onto the fact that you're kissing your higher up... your brother's best friend...

his hands feel smooth across your skin; feeling lithe fingers play along the curvature of your back, and tracking the discs of your spine before clipping around your waist. and the kiss only presses in harder as getō rocks his body into yours till your back is crushing against the uneven, wooden bookshelves. he's moving quick, lips splitting for a second, feeling hot air catch between you two before sealing it again; a dribble of caught saliva adding to the taste, feeling warmth and sudden elation rising at your core.

but... he said one kiss? right?

maybe he's just trying to make sure, extra percussion... right?

you hope... feeling foreign guilt begin to bubble at your tummy when his boot kicks against your heel; booting them to spread your legs open and shift his body between them.

“g—... g-getō... getō—”

“shh, shhh, that's just step one. there are a few more things to do to seal it.” getō’s loose bangs frizz off to the side, his face beating with a kiss of soft pink, “don't worry, doll face, i know what ‘m doing.” he tastes you against his buds, tasting that sweet pop of cherry lip gloss you always pour onto your pretty lips...

you nod with wracked hands — a cute pink set gojo just bought you, settle against his heaving abdomen.

“what else is there?”

“turn around ‘n i’ll show you...” his hands guide you, twirling you around till your hands clipped atop the shelves — pretty eyes peering over and only catching glimpse of an empty room with cluttered books...

a lick of goosebumps rises along your spine, feeling tepid lips nip at the nape of your neck and sleazy, barred hands squeezing at the flush skin of your hips.

“next is preparing for a claim.” getō’s thumbs idly play around the frill of your skirt, toying with the hem and ruffling it up your perk ass; your eyes peel back wide, teeth catching your bottom lip at the cold air licking across your supple skin.

getō’s eyes ogle at the clear view of your cute ass all jiggly and round — a view he's been fantasizing over for years... now finally in his gaze, his hold; cruel hands kneading and groping at each cheek before spreading them, watching carefully how your back arches into a soft bow as his clipped nails dig crescents into your sensitive skin.

“are you... are you sure about this getō?” only a crack of a whisper spills from between chattering teeth.

“do you not trust your own higher-up?” getō sighs with a lazy thumb playing idly at the pretty pink string of your panties.

“... of course i do! i just never heard of a protection seal like this before—”

“because you're still learning, dear.”

he's right... and you perk your ass up, wiggling on your tippy toes and letting the sauntering man tug at your panties to the side.

getō can feel his mouth water, almost drooling and he doesn't hesitate to drop to his knees at level to your pretty cunt; gazing at the fat of your lips glistening with a slippery mess of your slick clinging between them, practically drooling...

his cock twitches, feeling himself throb hard in his tethered confines — aching with a bulging need to tent up.

“so perfect...” eyes squeezing shut, you feel a long and wet, broad stroke of his tongue slicking from your clit and dragging upwards to your pretty little weeping entrance. laying a flat, slippery tongue, getō spits out a wad of drool, letting it dribble between your folds and spill onto his tongue before poking a nuzzling, pointed nose into the crack of your ass.

your knees almost buckle, turning them inwards with crossed eyes and ridden knuckles scratching against the shelves...

getō prods the point of his tongue and teases it along your cunt, lapping and tasting every slick web you gush out — his glossy lips smack before delving a needy wet muscle between your folds, and curling it deep into your aching pussy; feeling how his tongue flicks against your gummy walls and slip past your heated core. and his hands keep a cruel grip around the soft mounds of your ass, keeping them spread nice and wide to nuzzle his face in deeper — to keep his slick tongue pushed into your cunt, fucking you with his warm muscle in need and in feral intent to lap along your walls.

he can feel you twich in his hold; your thighs trembling at each lick he strides against your pussy makes you whimper out. and it makes him wreck with a sleazy smirk.

so cute, he thinks, but so stupid.

a firm hand claps hard against the perk of your ass, feeling the ringing contact sizzle a warm tingle against your skin in burning heat; firm and cruel with digits tugging into the soft flesh and molding it into his hold... getō keeps you in place as he leans back up with a wet, sticky mouth glistening beneath the sheer lights of the room, and a hard cock pressing against his buckle — almost popping as he groans out,

“just one more step, sweetheart. you're doing so well, so proud of you, angel.” his voice is soft against the shell of your ear, kissing along the lobe with eager hands looping his belt from its ties.

your mouth hangs loosely, only pants and soft moans spew through... still trying hard to wrap your thoughts around this — this is still a protection seal, right?

“now it's time to close in the seal, claim it and make it known.” hearing metal clasp and leather chit against fabric, his baggy pants fall loosely around his ankles; crumpled lazily in the prior rush to expose himself to you — his heavy cock bobbing out and twitching up against his tummy; flush tip pearling with a sticky pre and beating a blossom pink.

“getō!—” he's quick to clap his hands around your mouth knowing you'll yelp out at the sudden and invading fill; forcing a deep arch to bow in your back as he reels your head backwards at the sharp pull to your mouth and stuffs his cock impossibly deep into your cunt.

muffled moans slipping past through the small cracks of his fingers, your heart strums with an ache, feeling it pulse and throb in sync at each barreling thrust he plummets into you with — feeling him quickly set a cruel rythen with haste movements and longing greed. and it makes his pretty earthy eyes to flutter, almost rolling back, unlike yours, already knocking to the back of your skull in growing elation.

“shh, shh, i know, i know...” getō groans through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep the skin-to-skin echoing in the library at minimal, but the tight feel your pussy wraps around his length makes it difficult — forcing his hips to rock harder into yours; watching your perk ass bounce against his pelvis at each cruel, tingling contact too, even salivating at the wet gush your pussy drools with when he slips his tip back in...

he keeps his palms flat against your mumbling and babbling mouth; arms stretched out and keeping you quite the best he could, but the way getō bucks his hips forwards and curves his cock just right to hit deep into your cunt makes you set loose into a boggling gaze — throat bobbing and scratching with wanton mewls.

a rough wave of pleasure shook at your core; the raw rutting inside you was sheer ravenous as getō pushed into you to the hilt. and in a moment of weakness, your hands scramble for purchase but fall pliant against old books, almost ripping and tearing at the sheets of dusted paper for a safe haven, feeling your gummy walls flutter and slick with your mess.

“cumming f’me princess?” he shudders, feeling your pussy squeeze and milk around his cock; a pretty translucent, milky ring barring around his length and globbing up as lube eases himself with a ridden pace.

knees almost sinking in, you feel your sticky mess drool down your thighs before dripping to the carpet in a clear puddle...

“good girl... feel too good f’you huh?” like auditory caramel, and the delicious control in his voice makes your chest sink in with heaving, shaken breaths.

not acknowledging the very harsh grip around your mouth and jaw — that is sure to blossom with bruises, you only cloud into a drooling frenzy, elation stirring to the very core of your tummy, and letting out inaudible sounds of bliss as getō used your little hole like a glorified sleeve. and soon his pace grew to a brutish and unrestrained tempo; his hips stuttering into a blur as he barreled his hefty length into your weeping cunt in every cruel motion.

‘now it's time to seal it, little one...’ he thinks deeply, almost chuckling at your stupidity for falling for such a stupid act, but it worked, and it lead him to feel his balls tighten, and a eager cock to twitch with a needed knot to pop...

the crude sloshing and belches of fluids slicking acted as a fine undertone for the drastic moans threatening to spill through and echo into the little library as getō pumped his cock into you, bucking in hard with a cruel and last thrust; forcefully and clapping his hips against your backside for a final time. running through throes of passion with such intensity, you felt his cock twitch and pump with a sticky mess to spurt out deep into your cunt; warm and sticky cum fills you up, feeling it settle and paint your walls with a milky spunk.

you both shudder, wrecked and sweaty.

getō moans deep, a guttural sigh bobbing at his throat as he slowly slips out; relishing the sticky feel of your cunt trying to swallow him back in.

“there angel... you're all safe now, no lousy little curse is gonna touch you.” he sighs, trying hard to keep the rotten act as he frees you from he barred hold. and you gasp, sucking in air as your eyes fall to the puddle that molds into a crusted mess in the carpet below you...

you nod, breathless — speechless.

“t-thank... thank you master getō...” you sputter out, knobbly legs trying hard to keep straight.

and as getō stuffs himself back into his confines with a sleazy smile resting at his lips, the wooden door of the library swings open.

“yo.”

gojo.

satoru gojo, your brother, was standing right there in front of you both.

thankfully, a rickety bookshelf was between you all, covering your dignity and mess...

“satoru! just in time, was just teaching your sister about curses.” getō cleared his throat and pats at your ass before walking around the shelf with hands in the air to greet him.

“getō, c’mon! i said i was gonna take her out and show her some real curses, not just talk about them — that's boring.” gojo steps in, but his nose whiffs in the air.

“y/n? what’re doin’? looks like you just ran a marathon — getō, must've been teaching you about that brutal curse sukuna, huh? made me break a sweat too.” gojo scoffs jokingly, but his brow raises over at you, only for getō to shove himself in his way,

“yeah, she couldn't even get through it all without breaking down, clearly she's not ready to even see real curses yet, gojo.” his smile is large and cocky as you try hard to gulp down a breath of air...

# % !! tags . . . @sparklingtragedy , @kenmasbimbo , @atsumeii , @sacvh , @luvbladez , @dukina , @rynfushiguro14 , @sauza , @getosbunny , @imvivian , @getou2001 , @carrixx , @sinfuldxlight , @depressio-milkshake , @bimbokutos, @groovyauras , @edens-pen , @diaphanoso , @suget , @sanjithesimp , @geniusso , @whosniya !! >.<

#💌.jjk masterlist #💌.suguru getō #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #getou smut #jjk x reader #gojo x y/n #tw age difference #gojo x reader #tw dub con #jjk smut #geto smut

7K notes · View notes

konigbabe · 7 months

Text

eleusinian mysteries

DAY 7 ⇢ Gangbang Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader x Toji Fushiguro x Kento Nanami x Choso Kamo Word count: 4k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; gangbang; oral sex (F & M receive); p-in-v; anal sex (F receive only); pure filth; fingering; cunnilingus; rimming; deepthroat/throatfucking; praise kink; protected sex; ass slaping (like once); pet names (each one calls you differently); basically 4 men 1 female gangbang Summary: How did you find yourself passed around by four men might remain a mystery; at least it's off of your bucket list now. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023]. Divider is mine. A/N: With NSFW Week oficially over with this piece, I wanted to give special thanks to the radiant Fae (@kennedyswhore) for her unconditional support [that kept me from dropping the event], sublime Kit (@vagabond-umlaut) for her encouraging and kind words (that subconciously pushed me to finish each piece), Karma (@kazushawty) who infected my mind with her filth (in a good way) that resulted in this mess (and kudos to her tutorial for this GIF) and to you, who's reading this [series]. Thank you for the support! ♡

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's a thin line between reality and a dream – which can easily be blurred. Especially when the present blends with the past and gets a hold of the future within its grasp.

"What's this?"

Satoru lies spread wide on the bed; torso bared to the world and stretched out, his physique like an invitation to explore. Especially with the way the moon casts its shine onto the mop of silvery strands that crown his head.

With a soft sigh, you position one knee on the plush expanse of the bed, flicking your eyes on your lover. His curious fingers dance towards the petite diary on your nightstand; a beacon of secret desires nestled in the soft glow of tonight's moonlight.

"A journal," you reply, "of sorts," the mumble that leaves your lips is faint, tinged with skepticism. Unease. Shame maybe – even.

"Can I?" With the book already ensconced in his slender fingers, he throws you a questioning look. Seeks your permission. Your silent approval is conveyed through a gentle dip of your chin.

Satoru unfurls the pages. Flips through them. Hair clinging to his forehead, eyes darting across each paragraph and list; he takes his time reading, studying each entry. Flipping through the pages, you notice the crease between his eyebrows deepen as he reaches the last page.

The last page.

There are no hidden feelings between you. You are an open book for him – now in a more literal sense than ever before.

"This page's interesting," he mumbles to himself, yet his words reach your ears clearly. And you know what he means. A warm flush sweeps across your cheeks, causing your eyes to divert towards the sheets, where your nervous fingers fiddle with the fabric, "is this a bucket list?"

His utterance is clear, and you grasp the implication quickly.

"Yeah, well, everyone has dreams."

You feel the bed on your side dip. Satoru shifts, sits up, the sheets cascading around his lithe waist. Warm breath fans over your cheeks, adding fuel to the fire smoldering beneath your skin. His hand finds its way onto your exposed thigh, thumb caressing the damp skin.

"Yours are rather," searching for the right descriptor, the hand that was on your thigh now slips underneath your chin, gently lifting it to align your gaze with the deep, cerulean depths of his eyes, "provocative."

Filthy. That'd be more fitting, you think.

The answer on the tip of your tongue refuses to budge.

"I like that," he adds after a while. "And if you want," sitting straight, his face now stands in front of you, a breath away, "we can do number three now."

When you don't respond – only watch his face inch closer, lips hover over the curve of yours – he licks a thin stripe across your lower lip.

"And I can arrange number seven if you want," he mumbles against your lips, pushing your face towards his.

How such a simple conversation led to this will probably remain a bit of a head–scratcher. How Satoru managed to have all of them agree to this will be a mystery. Maybe he has a knack for bringing out people's hidden desires or a way of making everyone comfortable enough to do this.

But these thoughts don't really stick in your mind. Especially with the way Nanami's tongue continues to lick thick stripes over your drenched walls. Back flat against the table, legs up and spread wide. Toji keeps a vice grip on one of your ankles with Choso gripping the other one – the two men keeping your legs open for the blonde man to devour you comfortably.

You'd never imagine there would be a day when all of them would see you like this.

And that there would come a day when you discover the taste of each of their lips; the unique sensation each of their kiss can bring.

Satoru you were familiar with – hungry. Sloppy. Messy. Remaining filled with passion even after years of familiarity. Holding your face with both his hands, cradling your cheeks. Like the first plunge into a lukewarm sea that turns into swirling foam – enveloping and capricious. He always speaks with his entire body; grinding up against you and wrapping his arms around your back. A boisterous lover.

Nanami – Nanami's kiss, on the other hand, is a contrast to Satoru's intensity. It's precise, measured, and full of depth. A slow dance of passion; like the waltz. His hand comes to your face and cups your chin, lifting your head up just the slightest amount of space so that when his lips meet yours, they nestle in there perfectly. His lips meet yours with a calculated tenderness. There's a sense of control and mastery in his kiss, and it leaves you with a feeling of being cherished and understood.

Toji – like a storm. Wild and untamed, coming out of nowhere with an intensity that left you breathless. An untamed force that sweeps you off your feet. Fingers gripping your chin with iron strength, thumb pushing against your lower lip to part for him more. Tongue both demanding and teasing, as if he can't decide whether to be gentle or let the beast out. The taste of danger and desire both eminent on his lips.

And Choso – the perfect blend of sweetness and ardor. His kiss is unexpectedly tender, considering his broad, rough exterior. A hand resting on your nape, not pushing or anything, with the other sliding up and down your arm; making you feel like he had waited a lifetime for this moment and wanted to savor the warmth of your skin under his palms. He tastes like moonlight on bare skin.

So when all four kiss you, the sensation is a whirlwind – a summer storm. A combination of the intensity of Satoru's kiss, the depth of Nanami's, the wildness of Toji's, and the tenderness of Choso's.

"Mmph–fuck," Toji rumbles, teeth showing in a grimace as nails dig into the flesh of your calf. Your fingers tighten around his base when you feel Nanami's fingertips collect your wetness, spread your lips apart before his finger teases your open hole.

You want to answer, urge Nanami to finally let go of the restraints – feeling like hours have passed since he went down on his knees and buried his face between your legs. Yet it's hard to do so when Satoru's cock plunges into your mouth. So deep in your mouth that you can barely breathe as he thrusts it into you; our lips and the back of your throat rubbing raw against its pulsing flesh. You feel him hit a soft barrier and push harder.

Hands slide across your chest. Slick with saliva before the softness of someone's lips envelops one of your nipples. A kiss, soon followed by a nip of teeth. Gentle, exploring – Choso, you guess. Compared to how Toji keeps squeezing the other one. All rough and fast, his thumb flicking over your erect nipple whenever your finger presses against his slit.

"Daamn, baby," you pick up Satoru's mumbles. And with your head thrown over the table's edge, you manage to look up. To see the underside of his chin, see how he's looking up; how his hand continues to caress your hollowing cheek, thumb collecting the tears that spill over your waterline.

A moan slips past the tight seal of your lips when Nanami's finger is finally buried all the way inside your drenched cunt. You arch against him, hips grinding against his moving hand before another one presses down onto your lower belly.

"Don't move, love," Nanami's voice echoes, hot breath skittering over your wet folds moving to your aching nub, "just let me prep you."

You tighten your grip – both of them – which only earns you deep grunts. Choso's teeth swipe over the tender flesh of your breast, over the soon-to-be bruise forming upon his attack. Tongue swirling over the silk-soft skin, making it stiffen with prickly heat. Your moan and twitch at the touch.

Toji flicks your nipple, rolls it between his fingers. Eyes drawn onto the sight before him. On the way your body lies completely bared; body offered on a platter of lustful ecstasy, like a sacred offering.

As Nanami's hand slides inside of you, heat spreads through every inch of your body. His fingers are merciless, relentlessly adding another finger and curling them both up to press against your walls. Searching for that sweet spot, that one point of ecstasy that will have you seeing stars.

"Baby," Satoru whines, thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth to draw your attention to him, "gonna cum. Think you can swallow me?"

Your hands continue to slide up and down Choso's and Toji's cocks, each on either side of you. Satoru stops moving, the throbbing tip of his cock resting on your upper palate. Your tongue swipes over his leaking slit, collecting the briny, pearlescent droplets before swallowing.

"Mhm," you attempt to nod, taking a deep breath through your nose.

"Good," Satoru responds, holding you in place by digging his fingers into the nape of your neck as his cock expands against your throat walls, pushing every nerve ending until a burning pleasure washes over you.

You can feel the heat spreading through your body, coalescing in the space between your legs.

Nanami's fingers continue to massage your walls, pressing against that slightly ridged spot deep inside – the one that tightens your throat, makes you clamp down on his fingers, grip Choso and Toji tighter. Everyone feeling your pleasure rise–

Satoru stills inside you. And you feel him spill. All hot and heavy; flowing over your tongue and melting on your taste buds like an ice cream cone in the summer sun. Tengy but savory.

–and rise until the dam breaks. Warmth flooding your nerves, overwhelming your senses until you surrender to it completely.

Nanami doesn't stop moving. Instead he speeds up, his fingers working you over until you are soaked in sweat; not a single inch of your skin dry or cool.

Fucking you through the first orgasm of the night while Satoru withdraws from your mouth. A feral groan escapes his lips as he watches scant droplets of his cum escape your mouth and rustle down the side of your cheek, smearing the sensuous skin with slick fluids that threaten to drip into your eyes. He leans down and sweeps up the droplets; plunging his sticky fingers deep inside your mouth.

All while the azure depths of his eyes lock onto your hazy gaze, you watching the upside down image of your boyfriend.

"You're so good," he praises, withdrawing his fingers and licking them clean. You can taste it on his tongue; the saltiness, the sweetness of his spent, "ready for the real fun?"

Nanami's fingers scratch your quivering walls once last time. His lips – soft and velour – press against your opening, tongue teasingly licking along the entrance before he stands up.

"Mhm–definitely," you murmur and watch. Watch as Nanami stands up, torso sculpted into perfection. Muscles rippling under pale skin, the veins visible beneath the surface. Your fingers itch, coming closer until the tip of your middle finger nudges against the graven abdomen.

His hips pitch forward upon your touch. Hand tightening around his cock as he gives it a few pumps.

You want it. Want him. Want to feel the stretch as he sinks inside.

"Condoms," Satoru chimes in from your side, stern but only reminding everyone as his hand strokes your cheek. Nanami grips your thighs to spread your legs wider for him. Nodding, he reaches to your side, grabbing one from the small stack of them you prepared beforehand.

With one hand on your inner thigh, her rips open the foil packet with his teeth and rolls it down the length of his leaking cock.

"Ready," he asks to which you nod.

The burn is intense, numbing as you're filled in one smooth motion. His cock feels even better than you imagined it would; slick and hot inside you. You can feel every inch of him, every inch that fills you up. His hands tighten around your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he stays still.

A mewl cascades past your parted lips. Body shifting, seeking more friction; movement. Nanami responds with a roll of his hips – exploring. Testing whether you opened up for him enough. And when he feels the unrestrained slide of his cock inside you, he can't help it any more. At first it's slow, shallow thrusts that have you biting your lip in anticipation.

"Fuck, get it over with already Nanami or I'm gonna explode," you hear a gruff voice.

Toji.

"Y'know," it sounds more like a moan rather than words but all four sets of eyes snap to your face, "I have two holes, don't I?"

Nanami shudders against your cunt, and you could swear he got more swollen upon your words. Choso's eyes snap to Satoru as Toji grabs the bottle of lube from the table. Yet Satoru's gaze lingers on your blissful expression.

"You sure about that?"

When he asks, your chest tightens, pulse gallops.

"She's a big girl, she can decide for herself," Toji responds, hand on your hip. He nods at you and then turns to Nanami, who looks up at him. They exchange a few words, a conversation that passes by your ears.

"Hey–"

"Satoru," you interrupt the man by your side, hand reaching upwards to touch the side of his neck, "s'okay. It's a gift for me after all."

You whimper when Nanami's cock slides out; now feeling the emptiness all over again.

"Gonna move this to the couch," Choso retorts–

Everything feels weightless. Surreal. Each kiss a caress, each touch a fire. Your thoughts are muddled, consumed by the need for him. For all of them.

–and soon enough, your legs are spread wide around Nanami's waist, his cock nestled deep inside you. You move in tandem, slow and shallow thrusts as you straddle him. He leans back against the couch, his head hidden in the nook of your neck; while at the same time, Choso stands behind it, with your lips sealed around his dripping tip.

Toji stays crouched behind you. Any other day, your face would burn over the thought – of having someone's finger up your ass. It's a strange feeling – the steady pressure of his middle finger as he twists inside you. Even with the generous amount of lube, it takes Nanami a few good thrusts and encouraging words – You feel good. Relax for us, yeah? – to get you mellowed enough for Toji to add a second finger and scissor them inside.

All while Satoru stands by the doorframe; fully naked, skin pale with pinkish hue. It feels as if he's glowing, radiant, when your eyes open and he's standing in your peripheral vision.

The motion tugs at something deep inside you. And you moan around Choso's cock. Hollowing your cheeks, tongue pressing flat against his underside as you feel pleasure washing the shame away.

Suddenly, Toji's presence leaves your body. Letting go of Choso's cock, you hold it in your hand, thumb swiping over the sensitive slit, earning you a grunt of appreciation as Satoru's eyes lock onto yours – and you feel a small smile tug at your corners before–

"What–"

Something wet slithers around your rim as Nanami stills once again. Teeth nipping at the skin on your clavicles, your lips press momentarily against the ridge of Choso's tip, tasting the saltiness before you use Nanami's shoulders to steady yourself enough to twist around. To look at Toji, crunched down, hands spreading your cheeks apart with face buried between them. His eyes, verdant windows to his carnal soul, glint in the faint luminescence as they look up at you; you can't help but gasp, mouth running dry. His tongue like fire, skin searing under his touch as he swirls around your ass before pushing inside.

"Wait, I–ugh–"

Satoru shifts in the corner of your eyes.

But somehow, it feels good. So fucking good and delightful.

"Relax, not my first rodeo," Toji rumbles when he pulls away, sinking his teeth into the plump flesh of your ass; then he goes back for more.

"Feels weird," you let out a chuckle, nodding in Satoru's direction, "but good." Hand grasping Choso's cock – who's been patiently waiting for your return – you kiss the side of the burning flesh while letting Toji devour you.

Nanami's hands slide from their spot on your hips, tracing the curves and dips of your body; settling around the globes of your breasts. They squeeze the abused flesh, kissing the tender spots. Hips having mind of its own, you circle them on top of him, causing Nanami to grow into your skin.

For what feels like an eternity, you stay this way – squeezing, warming Nanami's cock inside your dripping walls. One hand resting at the back of his head as he kisses your chest, massages your nipples and caresses your sides. The other hand moves along Choso's length, lips tightly wrapped around it as you bob your head, Choso's hand resting on top of your head, gently urging you to take more.

With Satoru watching over it all.

"Good," a sharp slap, sting on your ass when Toji finishes and stands up, "arch your back for me, kitten." His hand presses against your lower back, urging you into position.

Your body curves into Nanami's, like water around a rock.

Nanami spreads his legs more, opening you when Toji spread more lube over his cock. Tugs a few times to spread the slick, sticky substance over the condom, dipping the fingers in your ass to loosen the upcoming friction more.

You expect pain; pain of being stretched to the limit. Yet there's none when the tip of his cock slips past your rim and slowly slips inside you – further and further, until his hips are pressed against your ass.

"Fuck–good girl, ain't ya," Toji mumbles, more for himself as he feels the heat of your insides hug him tightly.

"You're doing great," Nanami's lips brush against the shell of your ear, tone quiet – just for you. "Wanna ride us?"

"Mmph–," you nod. Fingers sliding along Choso's cock, taking him in your mouth when you start to move on your own accord.

Which doesn't last too long as pleasure increases, makes it difficult for you to find a good pace. As if he can feel your struggle, Toji grasps your hips, stabilizing the pace as Nanami moves his hips.

Satoru watches on with a mixture of curiosity and admiration as Nanami starts to move; his cock sliding inside you with ease, meeting up with Toji's pace. You can feel both their cocks pushing deep within you, adding fuel to the fire inside.

Their hands never leave your body, grasping at whatever they can reach.

"Ah–" Choso's hips stutter the moment his cock breaches the entrance to your throat. You keep going, deepening the movement with each plunge. The sensation builds up in seconds, making it impossible to keep still as he grunts your name, feeling himself nearing the edge. "Gonna cum–ugh– damn."

His hands grasp your face, hips rolling forward. You grasp Nanami's shoulders, letting Choso ride out his high, his cum sliding down your throat before he slips out – spent and satisfied – and watches with grateful gaze as you swallow him down, not leaving a droplet to escape.

"Shit–," Toji speaks up after a second, "you just got tighter," and he grips your hips, moving Nanami's hands out the way as the intensity of his thrusts increases. "Look at you. Always knew you were a dirty one."

You can't even respond, just focus on the intense pleasure coursing through your veins. Pulling away, Choso takes a step back; steading yourself on Nanami, using his chest as leverage, you pull back. Back meeting Toji's solid chest, his hand wrapping around the side of your neck while he brings your head to his – cheek to cheek, lips pressed against your ear.

"Would kill to have you cum raw on my cock alone," he mumbles. And you know the reason for the quiet whisper. You can feel Nanami's hands move to your hips, steadying them as he thrusts in time with Toji. Together they create a perfect tempo, pushing you closer.

"Ah, ah–" you moan out as their combined rhythm sends pleasure through you, building up the intensity until it takes over every inch of your body. Until your walls shudder around them, body tensing before you let loose.

Nanami doesn't stay behind; his hands slide up your waist to grip your ribs. He feels you tense around him, and the sound of your name slipping past his gritted teeth echoes in the room as he drops his forehead to your collarbones. With one final thrust, he spills inside the condom with a groan. You can feel the tension in his shoulders relax; as if a weight has been lifted from them.

Still in haze – eyes closed – you let out a small sigh, feeling the last of Nanami's warmth seep out of your body before the scene shifts.

Satoru has you pinned against the wall, Toji standing behind. His hands grip your hips, pushing his hard, slick cock inside your loose asshole while Satoru moves in front of you, taking your face in his hands – his hands move down from your chin to your jaw, then to the side, to the sensitive skin along the bottom of your ear and your collarbone. The strong wide thumb of his right hand presses against the corner of your mouth, gently.

So you open up. Legs supported under Toji's wise grip, you offer yourself to the two. You can feel Toji behind you, his breath hot on your neck as he thrusts back and forth. Teeth marking your nape, electrifying your sensitive body – still high from another climax mere seconds ago, yet neither of the two stopped –

Satoru's lips move to your wet cheek before he inches closer again, lips ghosting yours until the tip of his tongue finds its way inside your mouth – warm and wet – a silent command for you to reciprocate, and you do. You let yourself get lost in his kiss while Toji's hips crash against yours, pushing you both forward.

The sensation is overwhelming – a mixture of pleasure and pain as both men push against each other, letting out groans of pleasure and grunts of delight that blur the line between lustful and loving. Primal and affectionate.

"Fuck–kitten," Toji grumbles, chest vibrating against your back, "gonna cum."

And even with the condom on, you feel it. Feel the sudden rush of warmth as Toji's cock pulsates inside you. His name sounds like a prayer on your tongue when he stills, flexing his arms and spreading you wider for Satoru's harsh thrusts to reach deeper. Pelvis massaging your swollen nub each time he buries himself balls deep inside your cunt – raw, unrestrained, without a barrier. Unlike the rest.

All while Toji relishes in the squeeze of your ass, the snug fit whenever Satoru hits that deepest spot inside you and bullies his cock in your walls (even if he hates to admit it).

The sensation sends your body into a new frenzy and you can feel the tension building up. Again. Watching Satoru's eyes close, the crease between his brows deepen. Hips stuttering, his hand cradles your cheek as he lets go. Your arms sneak around his shoulders, face nestled in the sharp contour of his neck.

(With all the sensations buzzing inside your body, in each nerve, you don't notice Toji leaving silently.)

A strong arm sneaks behind your back, the other placed on the back of your neck. Hips pushing into your softness as he grunts appreciatively; you feel the slickness flood your walls, paint it pearlescent white. He holds you close, whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Heat rolling over your body. His voice like honey and the sound of it alone is enough to bring you back to earth.

Until it all ends in a beautiful mess. A gluttony of pleasure, skin slick and breathless.

And somehow, you want more.

"Think we can do round two."

870 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 3 months

Note

naive nerd reader that trusts soap when he suggests they should study in his dorm room but he lies :((

college au: nerd!reader and party-animal!soap

cw: non-con/dub-con, blackmail, recording.

you're so naive, so easily fooled. what made you think that johnny, who never studies, would ever willingly choose to study? it had only been a couple weeks since the last time you fucked eachother, and johnny was already coercing you back into your dorm room, telling you he really needed your help. :(

you felt bad saying no, and being so meek and quiet, a people pleaser, you invited him inside with open arms. it didn't take johnny long ‘til he had you on your bed, bare and naked with your ass presented to him, with your back arched and your ass in the air, shaking with a feeling... shame.

johnny enjoyed how inexperienced you were, how he was easily able to tell you that this was right, that this was normal, that he isn't taking advantage of you by blackmailing you! he's simply training you, it's a reward, bonnie...

he prodded against your tight, unused ass, filling you with his girthy dick, while he mocked you and pushed your face into a textbook, degrading you for being stupid.

you weren't stupid, you were smart! but in johnny's eyes, you were just a cockdrunk, little slut, a whore hidden behind the façade of an innocent nerd.

and yes, he didn't coerce you into having sex with him for weeks, he needed his fill. using the secret recordings as blackmail so you'd obey and listen. :(

#orla speaks #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon #tw: dubcon #dark cod #tw: dark content #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #soap x y/n #soap x reader smut #soap x you #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #cod soap

582 notes · View notes

etfrin · 2 months

Text

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-one | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | canon typical violence, coriolanus snow, a lot of innocent people get murdered but there's no solid description! someone gets hanged as well | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow sees district thirteen getting what it deserves and finds himself with a goal

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i should be studying... But here ya go! Make sure to give me feedback, we're nearing the end soon!

Beta read by the sweetheart @nowitsmissing

masterlist | navigation

It was extremely early in the morning when every single Peacekeeper was called into the Peacekeeper base. There was a TV, it was surprisingly a big screen. Definitely from the Capitol. You were standing beside Commander Hoff and behind you were several Capitol officials.

“Today, we make history. Today we'll end the rebellion from its root,” Commander Hoffs’ voice echoes onto the hall.

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows, unsure of what exactly is happening. The confusion is jarring. You looked stoic, your face devoid of any emotions. You never looked so beautiful to him. You looked like power. Fuck.

Coriolanus diverts his eyes before his thoughts turn inappropriate. He looks at the screen and watches it come alive. A familiar face shows up. Lucky Flickerman. The first-ever host of the 10th annual Hunger Games.

Coriolanus furrows his eyebrows before he begins to connect the dots. This has something to do with district thirteen. Ending rebellion from its root? How is that possible? Unless…

District thirteen still exists and the Capitol has fed him lies about it from the beginning. Coriolanus wanted to feel bitter but instead, he felt relief because it meant you were doing something about it. You wouldn't let it go. And this was a gift for him, he realized. District thirteen was what ruined his family and now you're eradicating its existence from the face of Panem.

You were extraordinary.

“Today, district thirteen will cease to exist,” you announced to everyone standing.

And then, Flickerman begins to talk,

“Citizens of Panem, today the Capitol will make history yet again. From the dark age, we have learned not to repeat our mistakes. There won't be a war in Panem ever again, and this is a step towards that,”

He continues,

“Months ago, there was reported activity near the area of district thirteen since then the government has worked tirelessly to find out the truth. It has been revealed that district thirteen exists,” Coriolanus hears multiple gasps, and even Flickerman stops talking for a moment to let the shock settle in.

The man then goes on,

“But those lives there are not blameless. They live with the blood of beloved Capitol citizens on their hands. They have rebellion in their hearts and hence keep themselves a secret. But no more! Because of a special mission approved by the President and esteemed officials' dedication to keeping the Capitol safe,”

“We'll be seeing from our own eyes how the Capitol keeps us safe. We'll see from our own eyes why the Hunger Games is needed. Thank you.”

Coriolanus looks away from the screen and turns his eyes towards you. You were already looking at him and when his eyes caught yours, you smirked.

This was the secret.

This was the mission.

He could only hope that everything goes your way. The screen comes alive in a different scene. People in military gear with weapons of all kinds. Coriolanus' eyes widened, the Capitol would be broadcasting the slaughter of the district in front of their very eyes.

Not much different from the Hunger Games.

Coriolanus wonders why they do that- why broadcast it when you can keep it hidden? This shows Capitol can sometimes overlook some mistakes too. They found out about District thirteen accidentally after all. This is a shame for all of Panem for letting them exist for so long.

But he also thinks that it will reinforce the idea of the Hunger Games. It will make everybody think that violence, the punishment are necessary, or else another district thirteen will pop up again. And history might repeat itself.

Snow looks at the screen and hears the gunshot and the screams. They were murdering indiscriminately but the camera made sure only the armed forces of district thirteen came into view. Most of the soldiers there had extremely pale skin and red eyes. The way they were holding the gun, they were shaking.

All these would be missed by the blind eyes such as of the Capitol citizens but he knew every Peacekeeper and district citizens could notice it. They were sick, extremely so. It was a massacre happening disguised as something else entirely.

There was no fight at all despite what the Capitol wanted to make it seem like. District Thirteen was weak and soon a lot of people were captured, and those people would be tried for treason. Those people would die as well. There was no doubt about that.

He wondered briefly about what would happen to the kids they captured as well. He slightly shook his head, he let those thoughts get out of his head. Not his problem.

“District thirteen is ours now,” you were looking at him as you said that.

Ours.

Coriolanus liked it.

Coryo gives you a split-second smile. The rest of the people present watching the screen go blank. This moment was shared just between the two of you. The mission was a success.

A few seconds later, Commander Hoff speaks,

“To accommodate this victory, several rebels that were caught in District Twelve will be executed at noon . Everyone has to be present. Dismissed.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

At noon along with Sejanus, he was standing with his back facing the Hanging Tree. He looks through the faces of the people and tries to find you but fails. Maybe you were busy.

Coriolanus has another thought creep into his mind, but he doesn't let it settle. He was sure he would find you in your room when he got back.

He was stationed beside Sejanus. Every citizen present looked down, their shoulders hunched. Every instinct to fight leaves their body after seeing the latest horrors of the Capitol. It is how it should be.

Snow sees the rebels being dragged to their death. Commander Hoff speaks, loud and clear, “Watch all of you, this is what happens when you challenge the Capitols’ rule of law.”

“He's innocent!” A woman screams out, creating havoc in the crowd. “He's innocent!”

The rebel yells at her to run, and other people in the crowd try to make her stop speaking. The rebel was killed within a split second, his body now hanging. His screams are echoed by the mockingjays. It sends down a chill on his spine. His hatred for the bird increases.

Hoff commands the woman to be captured. Sejanus steps forward as if to stop them. Coriolanus holds him back, glad nobody noticed the moment of misconduct. “Don't,” he said, firmly. Sejanus has no choice but to listen.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

Later, he is called into Commander Hoff's office. He was slightly annoyed because he still hadn't seen you since morning. But to his surprise, you were in Hoffs' office along with someone else.

“You have visitors, Mr. Snow,” is what Hoff said before walking away.

“What's this about?” He questions immediately. He looks at you for reassurance. Which you give him immediately.

“I promise it's nothing bad, Coryo.”

The man in the black suit begins to speak,

“I am Richard Heavensbee. I am here as the representative of the government.”

Then the talk happens. Both you and Coriolanus stay silent as the man, Richard, begins to explain why Coriolanus is here right now. Apparently in district thirteen several nuclear weapons belonging to the Snow family were found. The weapons for which the Snow had lost their fortune.

The weapons will be under the government's control as no one in his family is qualified to have the sort of military power. Coriolanus was at the bottom, after all, he should be happy for not having the responsibility. But he wasn't.

He sucks it up because Richard informs them that Coriolanus will receive sufficient compensation for ‘selling’ the weapon back to the government. It was nothing more than a formality. A formality that probably wouldn't have been done if it wasn't for you.

It wasn't enough money to pay for all of his university semesters but it would certainly pay for some. Even with the bills Snow's family already had. Tigris and grandma’am could have some small luxury with this amount. Thinking of that, Coriolanus signs the paper without a fuss.

“Can't I go back to the Capitol?” Coriolanus can't help but ask.

His question is answered with a simple shake of his head. “Your punishment isn't forgiven, I am afraid. There's nothing we can currently do about it without the appropriate permissions.” After that, the man walks out of the room leaving you and Snow behind.

“What he means is that you need to impress Dr. Gaul. And you have to do it real quick, Coryo,” you look into his eyes, your expression more serious than he ever saw, “Because I will be leaving in a few days and I don't know when I can come back.”

With that, even you walked out of the room before Coriolanus could confront you. Coriolanus looks at the empty office of Commander Hoff. He could see himself here in ten years or so if he remains a mere peacekeeper.

That's a future that he can't allow to come true.

NEXT PART

276 notes · View notes

bookofbonbon · 4 months

Text

all a lie - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Abusive relationship. Death. Descriptions of dead person. Spoilers for TBOSBAS.

Summary: Your relationship with Coriolanus Snow was all a lie.

Word Count: 1k+.

A/N: Sad girl hours. I found the angst fic. I HAD TO THROW IN THE DESTIEL LINE HAHAH (please tell me if you catch it - it's very obvious lmao).

Your engagement to Coriolanus Snow was an arranged one. It was no secret. Everyone in Panem knew. History would report that it was a pre-arrangement between best friends and co-creators of The Hunger Games, Crassus Snow and Casca Highbottom.

Details would emerge how when Crassus Snow’s wife birthed a son and Casca Highbottom's wife a daughter, the pair of bestfriends wanted to join their families; intertwining two of Panem’s most influential families for an eternity.

Feature after feature of the upcoming wedding would be written and published; networks broadcasting far and wide for all to see. It was of course, a bonus that the couple were also in love.

The headlines would call it things like fate and true love, and the people of Panem would fall head over heels for it.

It was all a lie of course. A lie conceived by Coriolanus Snow. The arrangement, the engagement, being in love. None of it was real.

“I chose her also because I hate her,” you’d overheard him one day. A long pause; the drawn out silence broken only by the sound of his haughty laughter. You could hear the smugness in his voice. “She’s perfect.”

None would know that the arrangement itself was false but you were constantly reminded by those who were privy to the true nature of your relationship with him that you should be grateful. How lucky you were that the noble Coriolanus Snow would honour the wishes of his great father for you after the shame your own brought.

“You should be thanking me,” Coriolanus hissed, face close to yours and his grip tightening around your arm. “Your father damned you. If it weren’t for me, if I didn’t come up with this arrangement for you, you’d be nothing. I saved you. I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

The hardest part was that you were starting to believe it too. Reality and make-believe blurring into one - it was becoming increasingly more difficult to discern what was real from what was not; unsure of right from left, up from down. Everything snatched away from you in a moment's notice and you should be grateful. Everyone in Panem is happy for you but, you.

But, Coriolanus lied about the engagement, he was probably lying about that too.

Of course, it hadn’t always been this way. There was a time that existed when the two of you were friends, genuinely. Your father’s were friends, the very best and so were the two of you - you think.

In hindsight, you wondered if the downfall was inevitable, given the history; something broke down somewhere, your father’s weren’t particularly cordial in their later years. You had never thought that it would affect the two of you as well but, pinpointing when your own friendship with Coriolanus shifted into other was easy - the beginning of your mentorships for The 10th Annual Hunger Games and over the course of the next two months following that until it was dead… along with you father.

You groan, loudly and keel forward.

You press your free hand to your forehead but it doesn’t stop the barrage of images of your father’s lifeless body from coming to mind; slumped over his desk, nose bloody, face blue and a blank stare.

A journal would later be found amongst his belongings when Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus volunteered to clear out his things from the academy; a journal full of the ramblings of a mad, drug-addled man, that damned your father all to hell as a rebel. You were sure it wasn’t his - you couldn’t prove that it wasn’t.

But one thing that you were certain of in all of that, was that there was only one common denominator - Coriolanus Snow.

You try not to think about how his resentment for your father grew tenfold between reaping day and your father’s last, festering into something rotten. How this entire arrangement was likely revenge so, he would have you, Casca Highbottom’s daughter under his thumb and locked in his cage for the rest of your life to make up for the years of your father’s torment.

The newspapers would report The Revered Dean Casca Highbottom Succumbs to Morphling Addiction, despite the toxicology report finding traces of rat poison in his system; despite your father divulging that Lucy Gray used rat poison to win, smuggled in by Coriolanus Snow; despite you seeing Coriolanus Snow leaving your father’s classroom just moments before you found his body.

“Snow lands on top.” you’d watch him taunt your father’s grave on the day your engagement was announced.

Coriolanus Snow was never really your friend.

You think you might be sick.

You remind yourself it’s all hearsay and speculation, the official reports read accidental overdose and you’d push that small voice that told you otherwise further and further into the darkest crevices of your mind because Coriolanus Snow saved you.

“Darling,” Coriolanus calls, voice mechanical.

You remain seated with your hand pressed to your forehead for a few seconds longer until it clicks - he’s talking to you.

Hand sliding down your face, the band of your engagement ring is cool against your warm skin. Your elbow digs into your thigh as you rest your chin on your palm and look up at him with what you hope appear to be sober eyes and as best of a smile as you could muster, given your current state.

“The Vickers and Creeds are about to leave, we will see them out.”

Not a question but a command as he holds his hand out stoically for you to take; eyes swimming with restrained rage - had they always been so cold? Perhaps or perhaps not - not that you particularly cared at the moment, you just wanted everyone to leave.

If you could’ve, you yourself would’ve left the party a long time ago - a luxury unfortunately, not afforded to guests of honour. Not that you felt like a guest of honour. Quite frankly, nursing a migraine in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other whilst avoiding your guests for the duration of the night was not at all how you imagined your own engagement party to be but, that was exactly how it was.

There’s a familiar burning sensation in your nose, a prickling at the back of your eyes, the feeling of something stuck in your throat.

You hiccup and something akin to concern flashes in Coriolanus’s eyes but it's gone as quickly as it came - you were probably imagining it.

“Put the glass of champagne down,” he tells you and you do.

You want to laugh- or maybe cry but, instead you take his hand, intertwine your fingers, hold his hand loosely and your jaw tightly and let him lead the way.

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coryo x reader #coryo x you #coriolanus x you

327 notes · View notes

cursedcola · 2 years

Note

Dorm leaders react to finding reader/yuu crying and overhear them say "I want to go home"?

A/N: Ah. Angst. My specialty lol. I am assuming you want imagine format? Hope so because that's what I am going with. Thank you for the request :)

Note: Idia's is so long. I went so overboard omg. I am sorry. I just think that he's neat.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle has seen many people cry, and unfortunately been the instigator for no small number of occurrences. Prior to turning over a new leaf, he was heinously blunt with his criticisms. Everyone knows this.

At the time he thought those people to be sensitive and naïve to the cruel ways of the world. They needed to toughen up!

That opinion lies in the past now. He was a prick. Riddle won't verbally acknowledge it but he knows. There is no need to bring it up because he is trying to change his ways

Key word: trying

You can't uproot years of bad habits and trauma overnight. He has his moments. From freaking out over students not studying, dress coding half the school, lecturing his friends on their diet....nothing too harsh, and no permanent harm done.

"This is not your world MC; 70% is unacceptable for a prefect to score on an exam. Slacking will not be tolerated! What kind of example are you setting for the other students?! Your grades reflect on the school!"

Perhaps he could have taken a moment to think and not let his emotions overcome him. Riddle knew how hard you studied; after all, you came to him for help many times. Each occasion he happily obliged and saw you progress using his study guides

It is why he wanted you to succeed. To show up with a perfect 100 that would be celebrated over sweets

Instead you arrived apprehensive and hiding your test behind your back. Already fragile and he-...goodness.

He sent you off running

Likely to go cower in the library and beat yourself up for disappointing him. Just like he used to do. Great Sevens he is an asshole. Ace is definetly going to rip him to shreds or at least throw his tea collection into the pond

After a brief rest to wash his face in the restroom, Riddle goes to the library and his heart shatters at the sound of sniffles from behind a particularly large stack of books.

"I can't do this anymore...this is too hard...he's right...he's right...he's right...I want to go home"

Sweat pools at his chin and his hands clench into tight, clammy fists. After hearing that, Riddle can't bring himself to interrupt and stands on the other side of the books, silent, and with his head down

He always felt regret and frustration after having an outburst - but all pale in comparison to the absolute shame and heartbreak hurting you has wrought

Leona Kingscholar

"Go home. It's past curfew"

And...no response. You are very lucky that Leona tolerates you, because ignoring him so flat-out would get you two nights in the slammer back where he comes from.

A goody-two-shoes like you never bends the rules, which is why Leona is curious to see you roaming the botanical garden so late. Not going to answer him? Now it's personal and he is your problem.

At first he opts to follow you around. Not for any particular reason, and merely because he wanted to find out if you stashed any secrets in the area

His patience runs thin as you walk up to every plaque and study each plant. You can't seriously be out here at this hour for a botany lesson, can you? Why not do this during the day

Each time you study a plant your mood seems to sour further. For absolutely no reason, at least from Leona's perspective. Not unless you have beef with the flora and fauna - which is impossible. Maybe. He really doesn't know what to expect from you anymore.

Eventually curiosity grows to concern. He's kept himself entertained, following you and leaving commentary once in a while. Yet he can't help but be creeped out with how you move around like a zombie.

With one plant left, he observes as you once again ignore him to examine it...only to let it go and sit on the floor in disappointment.

"So...You're out of plants, what now?"

He doesn't expect an answer after an entire night of nothing.

"I guess I'll go 'home'...wherever that is"

"Finally talking to me, huh? The hell is wrong with you? Do you think it's safe to be out here this late?,"

"Safe? It's just as safe right now as it is during the day"

A part of him screams to shut up and end the conversation there. It's not his buisness and he can just pretend this night never happened.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He can't help it.

"It means that nothing here is like home. Not the buildings, or the people, or the food, not even the plants. You know, where I come from roses grow on bushes not trees. And I don't have to worry about the broom I sweep the kitchen with suddenly taking flight! I want to go home where shit is normal"

Okay. You got him. He definetly wasn't prepared for that level of a stress dump.

What's worse is that he can't comfort you. He wants to. Truth be told, watching you wander through the garden listlessly upset him more than he is willing to admit. Yet he can't do anything, because that level of homesickness is something no one can understand.

"...NRC doesn't store every kind of plant in this garden. We can check other areas tomorrow"

Azul Ashengrotto

"Ah! At last, my food critique is here," Azul glows, clapping his hands when you walk into the room, "The Headmaster has given the Monstro Lounge a great opportunity to market our buisness at the upcoming cultural fair. Our stall's menu must be perfect!"

Azul ushers you inside with a hand on the small of your back and leads you to a prepared table. Truth be told, he could easily taste the new menu items himself or have one of the tweels do it on his behalf. So long as it tastes good, it will sell, right?

Wrong. In exchange for a vendor's slot and location that will actually yield profits - Azul had to make this contract worth the Headmaster's time.

In short, he promised something "never seen before," that would fit the festival's theme. Naturally, he did not do this without a plan. He had one made long before approaching Crowley with the idea.

You. You are the plan. Azul was going to theme his stall off of your world. Neat, right? All he needs is for you to monitor his project for accuracy, which he has already half-succeeded in doing by luring you here to taste test a new menu

"Jade! Bring out the first item," Sweat drips from the side of Azul's head, his inner anxiousness getting the better of him. Perhaps he should have told you instead of making it a surprise? He only had a few dish ideas to build off of from the rare times you spoke of your childhood. Sourcing similar ingredients without any idea of how things should taste was a task in itself. What if he butchers it? Would you hate him?

Jade sets the first dish on the table, and you visibly straighten up in surprise. You eye him in confusion, as if to say 'where the heck did you learn to make this? How?' and he softly smiles, "Go on. Take a bite,"

And you do. You lift a piece of the dish to your face and smell the aroma before taking a bite. A moment of silence passes, and Azul thinks he may have just killed two birds with one stone. Literally. Death to any chance he had with you or with the festival.

"It...it's not quite the same," you stare at the dish in thought, suddenly solemn, "yet still similar. Nostalgic, even. Thank you for making this for me. Truly, thank you"

A mixture of emotions fill him as he signals for Jade to prepare the next plate. Should he take that as a good response? He failed in recreating the dish perfectly, yet you appear content. Sitting there, slowly finishing the meal bit by bit and cherishing every bite.

"You’re welcome. If it suits your taste, we can add this to our permanent VIP menu," he hovers near your side before laying a gloved hand on your shoulder, "just for you"

You reach to lay your hand on top of his, "I'd like that. Sometimes I want to go home, but this? It helps,"

At that, Azul steels himself. Not only would this dish be added to his menu, but he will personally learn how to make anything you every mention from your home. He would make you talk more, and hopefully find a way to carve a place for you in Twisted Wonderland where you will never have to want for somewhere else.

Kalim Al' Asim

"Is that really necessary?"

Kalim pauses - well, to be fair, everything pauses with a flick of his wrist. Dust rags mid-air, sponges amidst cleaning dishes, the broom sweeping the floor, and so the books that were rearranging themselves in alphabetical order.

He hadn't expected you home for hours. Did Ruggie lie to him about you watching spelldrive practice?

Kalim rubs the back of his neck bashfully, and flicks his wrist for everything else to resume motion.

"Oh, prefect! You're home early. I wanted to help you fix up this dorm in return for everything you have done for me! Do you like it?"

A wet mop flies over your head, " I..uhm..yes? Yes, it's very sweet of you to offer but do we really need magic for this? I could have helped," and nearly drenches you in dirty mop water, earning a grimace of disgust.

Kalim chuckles, waving you off and out of the kitchen. He felt bad for sneaking in to your home while you were away, but he wanted o surprise you! Which...also did not happen, but you said he was sweet for it and that is exactly when he decided to stop listening.

A mantra of 'they think I'm sweet!' plays in his head as he sends more tools to clean the house as you both talk.

He makes a joke about how cleaning is easy with magic, and that you can call on him whenever you need help around the dorms. He will happily do it on your behalf

Which...may not have been the best thing to say to a magicless prefect that has been busting their ass trying to survive and be independent in a world where they do not fit in.

Just a little bit insensitive.

Miniscule enough for Kalim not to understand why you're suddenly frustrated with him.

His brow furrows when you plop on the couch an bury your face in your hands with a frustrated sigh.

"Ugh...you just- you don't get it. I swear, all you magic folk wouldn't last a day where I come from...ugh, I want to go home already"

You say the last bit under your breath but he still heard it. Kalim is aware that sometimes he does get ahead of himself, and that he has clearly overstepped a boundary. Normally he is not so hasty, but with you? All he wanted was to do something nice, and his mind was clouded.

He knows better than to flaunt what he has in front of other people. Not everyone has magic or the free will himself and many other students here are lucky enough to have. You've been working hard to be seen for your efforts, and that's something he admires greatly.

One by one the tools fly back to storage for safe keeping. All aside from the broom, which flies into Kalim's open hand. He steps in front of you, and holds the other out to help you up.

"Sorry, hehe. That was rude of me. I still want to help, so can we try again? Your way this time?"

Vil Schoenheit

"What is that thing?"

He had not intended to sound so repulsed. Disgusted? Yes. Just a tad, but there is a fine line.

You quirk an eyebrow at his comment, and follow his line of vision to the make-shift bracelet on your wrist. It was nothing fancy. Just your old shoe-laces put into an adjustable braid.

You tell him as such, and Vil cannot fathom what compelled you to make such an eyesore. He catches himself this time and doesn't voice it as bluntly

But my dear, it completely throws off your uniform. Goodness it's worse than Ruggie's oversized vest that he refuses to tailor.

"They're sentimental and from the sneakers I had on before someone put me in the ceremonial coffin. I still don't know who changed my clothes; and frankly? Don't want to, but at least they left my stuff in there,"

Okay, he understands. A piece from your past is hard to let go of but do you seriously need to wear it around campus? It completely throws off your charm.

Vil has always had a nasty habit of imposing his standards onto others, and so for the rest of the week you find him constantly eying your bracelet whenever he is nearby.

He merely wants to snip it with some scissors, he thinks, ever so tempted one evening when painting your nails.

You are his soon to be lover. Well, once you ask him to be so. Then he will turn you down and ask you himself because (1) he is not one who seeks, but is one who is sought after and (2) he must always have the upper hand despite this mindset

Anyway. You cannot walk around with those dirty laces on your wrist. He cannot accept it despite trying to on multiple occasions.

His compulsion overtakes reasoning, and as your nails are drying he "accidentally" cuts the thin cord holding the laces together with cuticle scissors

Needless to say that you are upset. Much more so than Vil ever could have predicted, and he watches in guilt as you try to salvage the laces with various knots

"I am sorry, my potato. Allow me to get you a new bracelet - "

"There is no new bracelet, Vil. This is from my home. I...I want to go home. This is all I have left and I need to fix it!"

It is not every day that Vil feels regret for his actions. He convinced himself that he was doing you a favor by getting rid of the old thing, but really? He was being selfish and ignored your feelings for what he wanted

He pushes that down, choosing not to acknowledge his fault and silently takes the broken bracelet. With a few strategic knots he has it stable, but it'll take some extra loving to fix properly.

"We can go out tomorrow to get some supplies. With a few beads, I am certain that these pieces could bind a lovely necklace together!"

He will have to be honest about breaking it on purpose, but for now Vil is happy that you have calmed down and are satisfied with his solution. Part of him wants to decipher what you said; however, he'll set that aside and take heed from his previous mistake. Something is keeping you tied to your home, and if he wants you to stay then he'll have to create a stronger bond for himself and this world first.

Idia Shroud

What does he always tell you?

No, not that there is always a catch with 'f2p' games. Well - yes, he does say that but right now we are talking about the other thing

Y'know

That the outside world sucks??? Hello??? He is essentially a broken record, repeating this every time Ortho or yourself try to get him to leave his room

Everything you need for survival can be acquired from one space. Need money? Work remote. Food? Delivery. Entertainment? Does he need to even -

Look. The point is made. Back on topic, Idia has enforced this time and time again. Yet you always insist on dragging him somewhere or going out on your own if he refuses. More often the latter, because you need to find him in a very special mood for him to go out anywhere physically. When you weren't as close, he would let you go off easily. It isn't his job to babysit you? Now though? He is a bit more 'tricky' on the topic.

Idia thrives on your attention. Absolutely adores it. When the CCTV picks you up as you bypass the Ignihyde security, his heart throbs because he knows that you have no other buisness here other than coming to see him or Ortho. Yet...he has issues being honest about this. Normally he'll be freaking out like a normie in his room until you knock, and then he speedily throws on his headset and pretends that he was in the middle of programming something important

Then you do your thing and "annoy," him with your "normie" talk. Tell him all about your day, joke around, play some games, maybe sneak out and get him stuff from the vending machine so he doesn't have to

And then it ends. Either it's late and you have to go home, or you have other plans to attend. Either way, you always extend an invitation for him to join. Just to get some fresh night air or go have some quality people time

As stated prior, at first he did not care. He'd let you go without a peep. Now? He has...ugh, emotional attachments *barf*. He hates knowing that you're leaving him to go have fun with other people, and he also is extremely uncomfortable with you walking alone at night. Did you not learn from what happened to him? Are you asking for a ghost to kidnap and take you as their bride/groom? He won't save you, y'know. He won't!

Needless to say, he is hella paranoid. More so about the second scenario than the first, because at least with other people you're just doing boring things like shopping.

So, Idia does what any sane person in his situation would do...and stalks you by hacking into NRC's security cameras. Just until you're in you’re home, safe, and he can relax. His intentions are pure and you haven't noticed yet. Why stop?

It's odd that on the night Idia begins to think his protective tendencies are unnecessary, that his anxiousness is justified

"What the f*ck?" He nearly growls, seeing three figures lurking outside his dorm, just beyond the entrance. Obviously not any of his students and seemingly waiting for someone.

His suspicions are proven right when you walk out the front door and one of them steps in your way. Idia thanks his past self for investing in high resolution cameras for his dorm, because he's easily able to get a clear picture of their face.

Unfortunately, audio recording is unethical (curse you Crowley) and he can't hear a word that they're saying - but it doesn't look good. Not from how you shrink backwards towards the front door, looking frantically for a way out. Sweat dribbles down Idia's neck as he debates what to do. He's not built for confrontation? But he's dorm leader, so isn't stopping this kind of stuff his job? Okay, but you're not a student of Ignihyde. Shit, you're his "friend" though. If he leaves you alone then why did he bother with all this in the first -

One of the figures grabs you by the collar, and Idia is out the door faster than Grimm when there's a can of tuna on the line. His desk chair left spinning in his wake as he bolts down the halls of his dorm

"Now listen here you little shit-"

"How about you listen ya filthy noob. I will give you three seconds,"

Idia throws open the front door an immediately pries the newly noted Savanaclaw student off you. His hair blazing double it's normal height and dark red, fueled by rage akin to what only Kingdom Hearts can evict from people. His eye begins to twitch just from looking at their false confidence fall apart. Of course, normies are all talk and no act when shit gets rough. What else did he expect?

"We have no buisness with you, shut-in. Butt out,"

"Three seconds. Leave or I will activate our military grade security systems,"

"Wha-"

"Two"

"Dude, you think we care?"

"One"

"Fine! Whatever! Don't think you're off the hook, prefect"

The title is spit out like a curse, and Idia nearly calls his newest project to chase after them ('Cerberus' Robotic doggos meant to deliver mail, but have an attack function. Why not?)

By the time they’re gone, Idia's thoughts begin to settle and his sense of self returns. He's outside, in his casual clothes with no shoes, there's a slight chill, and he's gripping something - or rather someone - tightly.

"Ah! I'msorryIdidn'tmeantotouchyou," he jumps back, his hair turning bright pink and hands shaking from what he did

You cough into your fist, "No prob. You didn't have to do that...I know you hate confrontation," your voice comes out shaky, and Idia's brain halts, "You're crying," he whispers in disbelief.

"What? No. Pssh. You seriously think that could shake me up? Have you seen the stuff I deal with daily?"

He is not convinced. If it were anyone else, he would have left. He can't handle this kind of stressful situation...then again, he normally can't handle confrontation either, but he just did so…

He sighs, inching closer "What...what did they say to you?" he can try. He might regret it, but he hasn't been rational all night.

Your eyes glaze over, likely reliving whatever conversation just took place before your eyes well up, "I know it's not true. I know. I know I can fit in somehow but I just want to go home. It would be so much easier if I could just go home,"

The last of your words are muffled by your hands as you frantically try to compose yourself. Idia doesn't need to hear more. He's intuitive. From what you've said and the way that student spoke your title...he gets it. Which is why he leads you back inside, lets you sleep in his bed, and prepares a special little surprise for those students with the camera footage from earlier. He was planning to stay awake playing video games, why not use his time more ‘productively’?

Idia stands by his words - the outside world sucks. Yet you know what sucks more? Pissing him off, and making one of the only people he has *barf* emotional attachments to, feel the need to leave him and go to another world to feel safe. There is a reason he was placed in Ignihyde, and it wasn't his smarts or reclusiveness.

No. It was his temper.

Malleus Draconia

“Prefect. Does this belong to you?”

Malleus holds out a phone unlike any sold in Twisted Wonderland. At first he thought his technological illiteracy was why he couldn’t pin point the design, so he brought the phone to Ignihyde’s dorm leader. Not even Idia recognized the brand, but with a bit of tinkering he was able to get the phone charged and working (through methods Malleus could not begin to fathom).

The home screen brightened up and soon they found your name in the settings. Malleus was surprised, to say the least. He did not expect you to be the owner of such foreign technology, or for Idia to throw the phone as if it burned him. Something about being a ‘red flag’ and invading your privacy? Eh. Surely there is nothing too concerning inside an old phone.

To be safe, he withholds his curiosity in favor of returning the phone to you. He could not navigate it even if he wanted to, honestly.

He made the right call. The way your eyes sparkle with recognition at the device and take it gingerly from his hands. You twirl it around a few times in disbelief, earning a bemused chuckle from him.

“I found it near the ceremonial hall. Be careful with your belongings or else they may one day end up in the wrong hands,”

You smile brightly at him when the screen lights up, and throw your arms over his shoulders in a hug, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I can’t believe you found this for me! I was so worried I lost all my pictures and data,”

You startle him with the physical contact. He definitely did not picture your first hug to go this way. Although he quickly composes himself, returning the gesture albeit with less strength.

He grows curious, “Pictures? Data?” wondering if there really was something worth while in the phone. You pull him at arms length and giddily start tapping away at the screen, “yeah! Having this means I can should you all what my world looks like! Food, people, scenery - oh, I think I have some memes saved too,”

He refrains from asking what a ‘meme’ is, too caught up in trying to understand you. Sure, he expected you to be happy that he found your phone but to see this level of cuteness? Are you missing anything else that he can find?

You hastily show him your phone and begin to swipe through the “camera roll,” as you call it. Once in a while you stop to laugh, explain who a person is or what’s going in in a picture. He soaks it all in like a sponge, committing each face to memory since they’re important to you.

Time passes, and you begin to slow down. Occasionally you’ll stare at a photo longingly, or revisit others to zoom in on faces or pieces of the scenery.

“I wonder if they miss me,” you whisper, and he understands where your heart is. Painfully so.

He stares at your reflection in the phone, wondering how such joy can be turned to sorrow so quickly, “They would be fools not to. You are…unforgettable…to say the least,”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear, “I hope so. I want to go home, but the thought of them forgetting me? Or the people here doing the same…I wish that I didn’t have to choose,”

You will never be forgotten. Malleus can assure you that much. The nickname “Tsunotaro,” will forever haunt him (affectionately) for the rest of his life - and you? He will always care for you, no matter where you go.

He cannot make that choice for you or take away your suffering. Neither does he regret retuning the phone and digging up these old memories. It pains him to see you so heartbroken, but he knows you love that world just as much as this one.

You won’t have to choose. He will find a way to bridge both worlds if it means that you can be happy. Then you can take him to all the places in those pictures, introduce him to the people and things you love - and then? He isn’t quite sure, but it’s a start to a long road of ensuring that you never leave his side.

3K notes · View notes

waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle · 3 months

Text

ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?

Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)

-Secret crush!!

-Yandere Gojo.

Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.

Tags<33333:

Warnings: Simp Gojo ig, trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia.

*　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦

The car was slightly quiet, besides Gojo’s occasional replies to his phone call. The chauffeur seemed to have his mouth taped shut, only focusing on taking you to the warehouse where your boss's jets are stored.

The 3 a.m. breeze passing through the window and kissing your face is starting to make your cheeks cold to the touch. The night’s temperature makes you kind of regret your outfit choice, but what could you say? Leaving the drugs and mafia behind, it was your first time visiting China! You were so excited for every new experience there was to offer. You may be there on a “business trip,” but considering all your expenses are paid, you might as well make it memorable. That led you to go all out when choosing the first outfit you’d wear when flying private. Your chest was adorned by a burgundy sleeveless turtleneck top, a black miniskirt that hugged your waist, and some below-the-knee leather-heeled boots that combined with your top.

You quickly shook the regret away. Your priority is to progress on this week's worth of work, taking advantage of the current free time you have. Your soft fingertips quickly tapped the warm computer resting on your thighs. Unbeknownst to yourself, the tall figure with fluffy white hair scratched his undercut with one hand while the other lazily held the phone close to his ear. He couldn’t help but dare to take a peek at your smooth legs. He tried to contain himself, which he really did, but his eyes couldn’t help but wander up your thighs. The phone call is now long forgotten, only working as a background nose for his shameful fantasy, where he lies his head on your cushiony, soft thighs while your long nails trace figures along his scalp.

-“Whatcha looking at doesn’t like my outfit or what?”-You question catching him off guard after finally noticing his burning stare.

Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, but his ego wasn’t going to let him keep quiet and possibly seem embarrassed in front of you or anyone. So he quickly fixed his posture and struck back.

-“Are those the boots I gave you for Christmas? It's the first time I’ve seen you wear them. They don’t look completely hideous on you.”

Gojo thanked whatever god still had mercy on him for giving him the perfect excuse to look your way.

-“It is the first time I’m wearing them!!! How did you notice?” - You giggled at him shamelessly, flashing him your pearly whites. How could you do this to him? Now he wanted to buy every pair of boots in the world just to see your smile as you showed them off to him and blushed at him.-“ I wish I was as easily observant as you. You’re once again correct. I just wanted to save them for a nice event.”

-“You've never been on a plane before?"

-“Not a private one.”

Poor you.

So your first time is going to be with me, huh? How sweet.” Gojo joked proudly, wearing a smug smile.

You threw some sticky notes at his head that you had in your purse, to which he just responded with a low and slow cackle.

The chauffeur looked back in surprise, wondering how you still had all your extremities together after disrespecting the boss like that.

You now rest your chin on the window as you approach the warehouse. After passing various checkpoints with armed men in the middle of nowhere, you finally arrive at his warehouse.

Geto ordered around the employees as they packed something onto the jet. You couldn’t continue snooping since one of your guards opened the door to signal you to leave the car.

As you get off, you feel the rough concrete make friction with your boots. As you start to explore the view, you see like five warehouses surrounding the pathway. As your assistants grab the luggage in the trunk, you look around for familiar faces.

You promptly see your boss appear from the side of the train and shortly walk over to you.

-“Ladies first.” -He points with his head to the open silver jet door.

You glance back at him in a distrusting manner and soon head into the aircraft. The cabin smelled sterile, the hallways were wide and decorated with cashmere white seats adorned by cedar walls with floating tables and big round windows to your side was a twin bed with feathery pillows and cushiony covers.

-“Can i sleep here? If I fall asleep right now, I might avoid jet lag.” - You ask this question while settling down on the bouncy bed, you avoided giving any compliments to your boss, you didn’t want to seem easily surprised by his extravagant wealth.

-“Tired already? I thought you wanted to spend the night with me.”-He banters as usual.

-“As if you could offer me a good night.”- You joke back, and he simply raises an eyebrow.-“I’m feeling a little groggy, but if you need me up, I’ll be charging you a nighttime fee in USD of course, since we are traveling internationally.”

Gojo opens his mouth to respond but is shortly interrupted by his godmother.

-“Gas tanks are full; flights starting in 5.”-Comments the raven head while serving himself and Gojo a cup of whiskey from the bar.

-“Want some?” -He asks, looking toward your direction.

-“It’s 3 a.m.; what type of question is that? Pass the bottle, bro.”-You respond while tying your hair for a fun night.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Your knocked-out body is seen slugging on the before mentioned bed, neck in a creepy pose and your cheeks painted red. Your skirt is slightly riding up on your thighs,barely noticeable to the untrained eye,but still too much for Gojo's liking.

Gojo and Geto are sitting down in the seats in front of you, enjoying the spectacle of your drunken self. They’re still completely sober from their third glass of whisky.

Gojo takes his phone out and is about to take a picture until Geto grabs his hand.

-“Better not; what if she gets mad and fucks up our taxes.”- His best friend intervenes.

Gojo quietly nods and reincorporates himself into his seat, spreading his legs as far as possible , sliding his Ferragamo shoes across the carpet to touch your boots with the tip of his footwear.

After strutting back into the cabin from speaking with the pilots in the cockpit,Geto let’s gojo know that they’re landing in Sanduzhen in about an hour, just to later disappear into one of the rooms on the jet. Meanwhile, Gojo is still staring at your freshly run-over deer pose.

You look so uncomfortable.

You may even wake up with neck pain.

He wasn’t very content with the thought of you waking up hungover and with neck pain.

He sat up and looked around to see if anyone was looking at him, then strategically hooked his arm under your knees while grasping your arms with the other hand. Once he had you in a bridal position, he crouched down a bit and grabbed your leather purse to later stand back up again. He was so tempted to just stand there and hold you in his arms like a big baby and feel your hot breath tickle his neck, but he recognized you both have a busy day ahead of you, so he simply had to ignore your sweet cotton candy perfume and lay you to rest. He swiftly headed to the back of the cabin, where his bedroom is located, to next effortlessly open the door and shut it behind himself.

He laid your limp body cozily on the comforter, and he then proceeded to carefully sit on the bed while side-eyeing you to see if you would flutter your eyes open and catch him red-handed. Once he confirmed you were out like a light, he gently unzipped your boots and put them aside to then cover you with the thickest, softest blanket he could find.

He just as carefully stood up and was just about to walk off and do whatever shady shit he usually does when he realized he deserved a treat for being such a gentleman, right?

He crouched down to your face level and took his big, cold, and scarily pale hand and tamed the wild hairs that cover your face. His pointer finger then started to trace all your factions. He could feel his cheeks burn as your soft skin met with his finger tips. As if he weren’t already testing the limits of his self-control, his gaze faltered at the sight of your pink, rosy lips, slightly agape. He was better than this; he knew better than to fantasize about locking lips with his secretary. But he needed to get something out of it, something that was worth the agony he experienced at the thought that he couldn’t just lay next to you and cuddle away the cold, something worth his jagged breaths as he tried to ignore your intoxicating scent or worth making him hate himself as he acted like a teenage boy around you, like he wasn’t beheading some messengers from a rival gang then sending some of their parts to their boss and their families.

So he said, Fuck it, and submerged his head between your neck and hair as he inhaled your essence. After getting drunk on your scent, he backed off and planted a chaste kiss on your bare shoulder. He wishes to plant many more, but one is all he can afford for the moment.

Then he decided to finally leave before doing anything crazy, and to his luck he managed to withdraw from his room a few minutes before Geto left his own.

-“Satoru.”

-“Yeah?” The white-haired man replied, concealing his previous high adrenaline rush.

-“Do you think she’ll find out?”

After his best friend muttered that sentence, every drop of joy drained from his system.

-"What’s done is done.”

The godmothers face winced before an announcement was heard on the cabin speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s your pilot speaking; we have arrived in Shanghai, mainland China.”

*　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦

A/n: Hello my beautiful angels , I hope you enjoyed this chapter. What do you guys think gojo is hiding from the reader? Did you like the secret one sided romance going on? I’d like to remember y’all that suggestions and request are open. Once again comments are appreciated, until next time, kisses.💋

Poll for funsies

296 notes · View notes

grandline-fics · 7 months

Note

Your writing hits the point.

I would love to read more about Law falling love/being in love with reader

Maybe the story about how they become a thing, thanks a lot

DESCRIPTION: A continuation from Law’s part in this.

WARNINGS: Slight blood mention near the end

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,127

A/N: I'm so glad you enjoy my writing. Hopefully you like how this turned out

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

“Bet?”

“There was a bet to win a date with you?”

“When!? Who took part and didn’t tell me?!”

“Where was I?!” Law rubbed his eyes tiredly over the commotion he’d unintentionally caused in the dining hall during breakfast. Why did he have to open his mouth? Slowly he looked to you, watching as you peered at him from over the rim of your teacup. Your eyes glinted in amusement but when you lowered the cup you fixed him with a convincingly confused and almost concerned expression. No wonder the others hated playing poker against you.

“Captain, I’m sorry but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You told him, studying his face with a slight tilt of your head. “Is it possible you imagined it? I know sleep deprivation can cause hallucinations.” Law rolled his eyes, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated anything. The jolt of irrational panic he’d felt about someone going on a date with you was too real. At least this confirmed that you’d lied to get him to sleep, he still wasn’t completely sure why that had been your tactic in the first place. “Maybe you dreamt it?” You prodded with a growing smile, remaining in your seat as the others began to drift out of the room to begin their tasks for the day.

“It wasn’t a dream.” Law muttered as he rose to clear his dirty dishes away before heading to the door.

“Awww that’s a shame.” You hummed sadly. “I quite liked the idea of you dreaming about me, Captain.”

He snapped his head around to look at you while you rinsed out your cup. By the time you turned around your expression was innocent once again while his was one of agitation as he tried to fight the prickling heat rising up the back of his neck. Saying nothing more you walked by him with a smile. This one-sided teasing was insufferable.

Later in his study he found himself griping to Bepo who had listened patiently at first but finally he let out a small laugh, making Law pause and look at him in confusion. “What?”

“For someone so smart Captain, you can be pretty dense.” The navigator grinned. “Why do you think they were the one I got when you didn’t listen to me about going to sleep?”

Law opened his mouth to answer but then closed it again. At the time he never thought to really question it. He was extremely tired at the time and part of him rationalised that it was because the others had already tried. Bepo’s grin grew and he answered. “Because you pay attention to them more than the rest of us. Most of the time you don’t even realise it but when they move near you or speak to you, you either stop what your so hyper-focused on completely or at least take a break from it. They’re my secret weapon when you need to rest.” Only now Bepo realised, you were now his not-so secret weapon. However after this long of using you this way it was about time he got his Captain to open his eyes to how he felt about you.

“They’ve never lied about a bet before…or about the others getting to date them to get me to go to sleep.” Law muttered, rubbing his stiff neck. Even if he were to believe Bepo’s claim about your power over him, that was still something that was throwing him off.

“Maybe they were testing you?” Bepo mused. “It could have been their way of seeing if you would react to the thought of them being with someone?”

“Why would they do that? They’ve never exactly been shy about voicing their feelings about anything.”

“Maybe this time it’s different? Still it’s something to think about, yeah? That is if it’s something you wanted to think about.”

For the next two days, the navigator’s suggestion was all he thought about. With his words playing over and over in his head Law became more aware of how he was around you and how you in turn acted with him. When you helped him in the lab with preparing vaccines in preparation for the next islands for the crew you stayed close enough to be able to feel the warmth of each other’s presence but still separate so neither were suffocated or uncomfortable. When you were about to ask for a utensil or component he already had it in his hand in preparation to pass it over and when you did take it, your fingers always lightly grazed against his for the briefest of moments. It wasn’t unpleasant for him, now that he was aware of the fleeting moment with every exchange he could see you’d always done this with him.

With all of the possible vaccines completed, properly labelled and stored you and Law set about clearing the equipment away and cleaning the lab. Without warning the ship lurched and you were knocked sideways against the counter, hand shooting out to try and catch yourself at the same time Law caught your waist and braced as the ship corrected itself again. Suddenly all too aware of your Captain’s body against yours you looked up to meet his stare. “You’re bleeding.” Blinking you followed his gaze to see your hand pressed into the glass of broken test tubes that had thankfully been unused. The last thing you wanted was to get infected by anything possibly harmful. “Come on, sit over here.” You were thrown by the gentleness in Law’s voice and let him guide you to sit at the table, his arm still around your waist until you sat down.

As he picked the glass from your hand and methodically cleaned the blood away you couldn’t help but smile. A few minor stitches were needed but overall it was nothing major. “Who knew the Surgeon of Death could be so tender.” You said with a smile that grew when he let out a small chuckle. However your smile dropped into a look of shock when he unexpectedly placed a kiss against your bandaged palm. You tried to calm your growing blush and stared at him in bewilderment. “Wh-what was that?!” You asked while Law rose casually. He stared down at you in confusion and you had to wave your injured hand at him for emphasis. “Kissing my hand?!”

Law blinked at you slowly and your eyes widened when the son of a bitch had the nerve to tilt his head at you curiously, mimicking how you teased him just days before. Only this time to make matters worse he leant down so his face was inches from yours. “Is it possible you imagined it?”

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fic #one piece requests #one piece x you #one piece imagine #op x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #law x reader #one piece imagines #one piece scenario #one piece law

585 notes · View notes

scintillyyy · 14 days

Text

the way that the steph story in showcase '95 #5 is a steph story written by not dixon in the 90s & has some of the best character work that *includes* a lot of the negative traits she was given by dixon && ends up having some absolutely excellent parallels with bruce in gotham knights #1 and yet the only thing people want to use out of it is that she was on the gymnastics team.

okay. seriously, though. the story is that steph is on her school gymnastics team & her mom comes to a meet (much to steph's chagrin) & her mom immediately clocks that her coach is a junkie & steph refuses to believe her at first because to her her coach is a responsible adult (and the safest one she knows) who wouldn't do that & then does some investigating after a kid dies from a car accident after meeting with the coach due to driving under the influence & finds out that not only was he dealing drugs, he didn't think he was doing anything wrong with his double life & steph has to grapple with the idea of how anyone could lead such a double life *while* keeping her own double life a secret. like it has the all the highlights of peak steph characterization to me:

inability to fully divest herself from her biases meaning she refuses to acknowledge at first what's clear to others (see also: unintentional but fantastic parallels to bruce in gotham knights #1)

her shame over her own life circumstances--having an addict mother & criminal father--that she wants to divest herself from completely and pretend they don't exist so she is made completely uncomfortable when people see them because reminders of their existence goes against the narrative of 'being able to fit in with her peers and that she'e not like 'those' people' that steph is desperately trying to hold onto (see also: her immediate backing down on her suspicions when her friends tell her she's overreacting)

steph being a child of an addict while probably logically knowing that addiction is complicated thing, but being a child affected by a parent with addition has a lot of trouble seeing addiction as anything but a poor choice her mother makes and that people she deems good wouldn't be so weak as to make those same choices. steph being a character who is biased and thinks that people can choose their circumstances because she is someone who's just going to choose to be a better person and raise herself above her circumstances unlike her parents who hurt her is chefskiss. to me.

steph's motivations trending towards selfish--she goes after her coach because a kid died, but the crux of her conflict with her coach is about the personal betrayal she felt after her suspicions are confirmed and he was involved, it's more about her versus the death of someone. which is why her double life is juxtaposed against that of her coach/the villain. because steph's decision to be the spoiler isn't about the victims or a duty to them, it's about her. the tendency in her stories to compare and contrast her choice to be a vigilante vs. a criminal choosing to do crime (usually her father) is often used in interesting ways--hidden beneath her steadfast refusal to be anything like them is an uneasy similarity in that she's doing this for her own self-satisfaction more than anything else, much like her father. and her lies being shown in comparison to her coach's lies & steph's lack of internal conflict over her lies in comparison to her coach thinking he did no wrong...it's soo intriguing.

#genuinely this is one of THE steph stories for me.#and you see these traits through so much of her story. it's good.#i could expand more abt the steph/villains motivation juxtapositions tbh it's sooo interesting #but it's like. the comparison/contrast of her motivations to theirs due to her origins #and her interesting relationship to lying & her lack of. hm. remorse? lack of conflict? over lying bc it's so easy for her #to lead this double life

173 notes · View notes

likealittleheartbeat · 2 months

Text

I try to generally be constructive and engaged with the show I love on here, so on this day, I’ll just say that one of the most thematically important aspects for me from the original ATLA is Aang’s emotional core of real shame for running away when he was hurt by the monk’s decision to send him away. People who feel the kind of deep-seated shame that Aang feels from this decision can understand how that kind of all-encompassing shame is not built around a simple failure or a lie they tell themselves; it’s constructed from real misbehaviors and transgressions of their own sense of ethics—lashing out, telling lies, attempting to hurt others intentionally—that then have consequences (abuses, abandonments, or deaths) which seem to far exceed their expectations or even basic logic.

The combination of the misbehavior with exaggerated existential punishments (along with a lack of support and amend-making in the immediate wake of the events) is what transforms a sense of guilt (I fucked up) into shame (I am a forever fuck-up). Then shame, that sense of being a secret monster ‘no matter what I do or how good everyone thinks I am,’ invites all the avoidance strategies (Aang puts on big smiles, makes lots of jokes, constantly tries to make everyone happy, hops from town to town without building deeper connections). One doesn’t want to acknowledge one’s true feelings or let others in to see those feelings and experiences because it’s too painful to face the grief at the same time that you have to look at yourself for being responsible—even when you recognize it wasn’t totally your fault. It’s just that if you had just been good, less emotional, less human, then maybe the world wouldn’t be so messed up. Of course, in a zen view of things, the world will always be messed up in the same way it will always be beautiful. These are constant facts that always coexist in balance, and this is the truth that Aang learns and that undergirds the whole series.

So I always loved that Aang ran away. It was his sin and his salvation. And it becomes this constant tension for the series—he gets hurt in Bato of the Water Tribe and starts to run away from Katara and Sokka, he runs away to the Guru in the Crossroads of Destiny and his best friend is attacked, he and the gaang retreat after the Day of the Black Sun failure, he runs away to meditation in Sozin’s Comet when everyone wants him preparing for war. Aang’s reluctance to be a hero and the attachments and petulance for which he gets criticized are what metamorphasize to become his most noble attributes. They allow him to empathize with others shame and, ultimately, wield the kind of compassion that can deconstruct the power and perfectionism of imperialism.

So yes, Aang ran away from his temple 100 years ago. It wasn’t the mentally healthy choice. It wasn’t the ethical choice. It wasn’t the wise choice. It was human and emotional and shameful and real. Aang is a better character for it. ATLA is a better show because of it. And we are better people when we understand these kind of tragic emotional experiences that people are trying so hard to grow through.

#aanglove #vague posting about the nf adaptation lol #I won’t go off in my posts but I will in my comments #only 17 minutes in tbh #and already amazed at realizing how cool it was that the of series wasn’t told in a linear style lol #I do think the casting department went off for the nf series tho #the kid playing aang is so perf #and all the actors fit their parts so well #but the show doesn’t understand or seem interested in depicting colonial violence at alllll #and the language of the fire nation wanting to ‘take over the world’ is so much more marvel than a colonial rhetoric #and then aang just wanting to ‘go get some air’ to clear his head…😑#we aren’t allowed to have problematic protagonists anymore I guess #only people with perfect mental health strategies allowed in young adult fiction #because we view fiction from a moralistic standpoint now instead of an empathetic one #but 🤷🏻‍♀️

322 notes · View notes

demilypyro · 9 months

Text

Okay since this doesn't seem to want to go away here's me addressing every single "allegation" that I've heard about. I hope to have at least given a good explanation where the horrible things being said about me came from, and why I consider them either just totally not true or badly misconstrued. Some of my friends have recommended I don't say anything at all, but I've always preferred openness and honesty, so I hope that's appreciated.

I understand that some people will still dislike me even though the things being said about me are not true. That's fine. I don't need everyone to like me, but it's when I'm being consistently harassed and lied about that it interferes with my mental health and ability to work. So I'm gonna try and end things with this.

"She's racist"

From what I can tell this is about one time when I said I keep my interest in anime to myself around new people. I do this because showing you're a Huge Fucking Nerd right off the bat can make a bad impression. I could have said the same thing about Star Trek or comic books, I just happened to be talking about anime in that moment. Someone seems to have misconstrued this as me finding Japanese culture something shameful and lesser than other cultures?... Which I would call a total willful misinterpretation. The rest of this seems to stem just from being Dutch, because the Netherlands is a country that has a problem with xenophobia. This is true, but uhhh I'm mixed myself so I'm pretty well aware of that, and I obviously don't support our infamous "blackface holiday." Just because I live here doesn't mean I agree with everything this country does, be that historically or in the modern day.

"She's friends with racists/misogynists/transphobes"

The only thing I can guess this is about is when I was mutuals with a user called porko-rosso at least 5 years ago and didn't really believe it when people told me they were a bigot. I haven't interacted with this user in over 4 years but people still claim we're like best friends, which was never true in the first place, we just knew a lot of the same people. Most of the resentment from the people who repeatedly spread these rumours about me seems to have started here. So for the record: no, I am not friends with any racists, misogynists or transphobes.

"She thinks she's better than other trans women because she passes better"

This is just not true. This idea seems to pop up just whenever I post about enjoying the benefits of HRT or surgery, but most recently this was misconstrued from a post where I said being trans is about being yourself as much as possible. Since this was in response to someone saying that me trying to pass is "erasing my identity", people thought I meant trying to pass is the same as being good at being trans, which was not what I meant, but some people didn't seem to want to believe me when I clarified. My apologies for the misunderstanding I guess, but that's all it was. So no, I do not hate people who don't pass as well as I do, nor do I think all trans people should be transitioning medically, and I resent the implication.

"She has a secret discord server where she makes fun of pictures of other trans women and calls them slurs"

I had absolutely no clue what this was about when I first heard it. I was sent screenshots that supposedly prove this but all they show is me being rude about someone's appearance one time in january of 2022. I actually thought these were faked because I don't remember this happening and the things said confused me, but one of my friends says she found it was in her server, where she had showed a picture of someone and asked everyone present (mostly other trans women) if they were hot. Apparently I did not think they were hot. So yes, I did insult someone's appearance back in january 2022, but it was an isolated incident. Frankly even I find my remarks in these screenshots distasteful, I don't know what I was on when I wrote that stuff. I'm sorry to that person specifically. What I said has weighed heavily on me and I apologize for it. It's not something I approve of, and don't intend to repeat that mistake. Still, to say it means I hate trans women and I love to make fun of them in my secret discord server and call them slurs is just... a super-villain level of exaggeration. I didn't even know about the word that was named as an example. It's not true.

"She's often rude"

I can't deny this one. Autism gonna autism. I've seen many therapists, doctors, experts, what have you, to try and help me with this, but it seems my particular brand of autistic in combination with the cultural differences between mine and other countries just really often ends with my foot in my mouth when I speak English. I apologize! I have never meant to personally offend anyone. It just keeps happening and I can't stop it from happening.

If after reading all this, you still consider me bad enough to hate my guts, I can't stop you, but I wanted to have at least had my say. I swear that everything in this post is the honest truth as I understand it, and that I've never acted with purposeful malicious intent.

#and yes feel free to reblog and share #demilypyro #demily pyro

943 notes · View notes

ch3rry-wink · 4 months

Text

Michael Stone (AU)

Pairing: pornstar!Miguel x f!reader

Summary: Someone reveals Miguel's secret to you.

CW: +18, angst, annoying reader

Author's Note: "Happy New Year! I decided to start the year by writing smut with some suffering. I'm not good at content warnings."

The first time you met Miguel, he told you he was an actor, but not what kind. You were excited until a particular friend interrupted your happiness, mocking you when you showed a picture of you two. He simply sent a name, and you searched it online.

Michael Stone was his stage name, and his videos seemed quite popular; a doctor, a plumber, or just him in an amateur-looking video had hundreds of thousands of views. You began to question how you hadn't noticed this.

At one point, everything started to crumble within you. You became angry for going to that café and meeting him. You grew jealous because he looked at and kissed you the same way he did in the video with another girl, implying you weren't special. You became suspicious because he only gave you half-truths.

You started to ignore his calls, messages, and avoided him at all costs, even stopping going to your favorite places. It had been relatively easy (painful, but easy) for you to distance yourself from Miguel. However, for him, it was the other side of the coin. Due to work-related issues, relationships weren't easy, and when you disappeared, he knew something was wrong. Knowing you wouldn't do that because you were someone who tended to talk too much, he decided to go find you and ask for an explanation.

Miguel stood at your apartment door, repeatedly asking you to come out, but you didn't want to face him.

"What did I do wrong?" His feigned ignorance irritated you, and after being holed up in your apartment, you came out.

"I don't know what you did wrong, Michael Stone," you said sarcastically, showing him his profile on the adult website.

"Now you know?!" His expression changed to pure concern. "I swear I was going to tell you," a sense of shame appeared on his face.

"When?" Miguel went blank. You wanted an answer, and he didn't want to give it, thinking you wouldn't find out. He was afraid the relationship would end with the girl enduring for a few weeks and then leaving. "Didn't you think someone would recognize you?"

Your neighbors started peeking out of their doors and stopping in the hallway. Although you were upset, you decided it was better to continue the discussion inside your home than for everyone to hear your problems.

"Give me one reason not to tell me the truth." Miguel's thoughts were so scattered he couldn't find the right words. "You thought I was an ignorant hillbilly you could take advantage of."

"You were different, had that look in your eyes that made me believe i wasn't just a piece of meat." He approached, and you stepped back.

"No, if I had known what you were, I wouldn't have even looked at you."

You still didn't know if you were upset because he had lied to you or because you genuinely didn't consider him a decent man. However, Miguel had been a better man than the others who had invited you out when you arrived in the city, wanting to live the fantasy of the farmer's daughter.

"Tell me it's not true." Your words hurt more than all those failed relationships.

He approached you, lifted your chin to make you look at him, and immediately knew you weren't sincere. Still, you didn't want to admit it. He gently touched your lips with his fingers and planted a kiss on your forehead as a farewell. Your heart sank; you grabbed his arm and didn't let him leave through the door.

"I care about you a lot, but it hurts that you lied."

"You would have stayed if I had told you the truth." You didn't respond. "I knew it."

"Let's be honest, the girls who were before me also ran away."

"They didn't want Miguel O'Hara; they wanted Michael Stone, the version of me on screen." Tears welled up in his eyes. "But you want my real version, and that gave me hope."

"You're right; I like Miguel, but I don't want to think that accepting him means having Michael." Laughter echoed in your head from your friend mocking you.

"You have Miguel." You didn't want to continue this conversation.

"I want you to go, don't come back, don't call me, don't look for me.”

"Could you give me one last kiss" he begged, you agreed. Miguel was such a good kisser, you hated to admit it but he made you so horny, you didn't want to stop him.

A kiss turned into a long kissing session and that led to your hips ending up on the edge of the couch, your feet on Miguel's shoulders and his face between your legs, he drags his tongue through your folds and you in response tangle his hair between your fingers to keep it there.

Everything about this situation was obscene Miguel holds you by the hips, his jaw is constantly moving, you can see the sheen of your fluids on his face and his eyes are still fixed on you.

You can hear your heart beating, your breath hitching and feel the heat emanating from your body.

Miguel continues with his face submerged in you, his nose rubs your clitoris while his tongue has sunk inside you, this unleashes an overwhelming sensation that clouds your senses and puts a pause to everything, it's just you screaming and full of spasms of pleasure.

He adjusts your legs so that they are open on the edge of the chair and returns to licking your clitoris, this time his fingers begin to move near your entrance and from one second to the next his middle finger is inside you, you have tears in your eyes of pure pleasure and he continues with his work.

A new finger is inside you, he feels you squeeze around him and suddenly you see him smiling with satisfaction, you start to feel the same as you did a while ago, however he stops and you see him trying to settle in for what is coming now.

"Holy God" the position you had been in had not allowed you to see Miguel in his entirety and you almost choked from the shock, he was huge.

He is still on his knees but now higher, he pulls you towards him and rubs the head of his cock against your folds, he positions himself at your entrance and introduces his member slowly and surely, it feels amazing there is no space inside you that is left uncovered and at some point he bumps into something that stops him from moving forward.

Your eyes roll back in your head, he takes a while to start moving, however when he does he sets a relentless pace, his hips collide with yours and his fingers play with your clit, he bends down awkwardly and gives you a kiss that is interrupted by a moan from you.

Miguel knows exactly the right spot to hit, again your body starts to spasm and you know you have finally come, he slowly withdraws from inside you and a moment later you can feel something warm falling on your abdomen.

You question the weirdness of the situation, the set is decorated like a classroom, a voluptuous girl wearing lingerie that imitates a school uniform greets you cheerfully, the director tells her where she should be, she obeys and then Miguel enters the set wearing a white towel attached to his waist, he approaches you to kiss you, when the kiss ends you give him a smile that would only be described as uncomfortable.

"3, 2, 1 action" Miguel kisses the girl in the same way he kisses you, she goes down to give him head and you know you won't resist the situation a moment longer, you discreetly open the door and leave the set. You had put yourself in this situation by insisting over and over again to try to get to know his world.

"Curiosity killed the cat" you said to yourself.

It was time to say goodbye even though you liked Miguel you knew you could not live with his profession.

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman

321 notes · View notes