#young!reader

[eshayteaparty]

The Helping Hands of your Tipsy Dads

~Fandom(s): Hazbin Hotel

~Warning(s): Swearing

~Ship(s): Huskerdust if you squint 

~Word count: 1,600

Stars platonic preteen/teen reader ! 

~In which Charlie has given you homework to revise on to keep your mind sharp. even down here- and you’ve sat down at the bar between two residents of the hotel, one drunk, one clueless and not yet drunk.

-♥+♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥+♥-

It was late at night, and in the dimly-lit foyer of the Hazbin Hotel, you sat alone on a velvety stool with a crisp sheet of times tables in front of you, numbers of all sizes causing your vision to flick from left to right across the page. You were in hell- why you were being forced to continue your education in the bitter afterlife, you weren’t sure, but you were reluctant about it as any child your age would be, even if everything was clean. Charlie had tried to teach you for a while, but noting your scowl and silence, she had thrust a book into your hands and sent you on your way, leaving you stuck on the fifth question on the page of all- that being a world problem of triple multiplication. What made her think you would understand this?

The situation was even more ironic considering where you had chosen to sit. There wasn’t really anywhere to sit down and work on math problems in the hotel, let alone anywhere in hell, and choosing the bar felt like a joke in itself. Once you had sat down, Husker had eyed your work, but hadn’t attempted to assist you. Perhaps he was as shaken by your venomous glare as the princess of hell had been.

You were scribbling out bits of the writing on the paper as an act of rebelliance, when the door to the hotel swung open, making you shiver from the night air. In walks Angeldust, the hotel’s resident ‘celebrity’. You and Angel had seldom communicated besides the occasional greeting and him sometimes hoisting you up under your armpits when you got too close to something you shouldn’t and depositing you elsewhere- those interactions were often silent on his end, as well. You glance towards him, interested in anything other than the tedious task ahead of you. He looks a little…messy. Ruffled. He isn’t exactly secretive about his profession, and you’re not some innocent baby, so you know of what he does, but not what happens to him exactly. 

He cracks his back, his lower pair of arms adjusting out his striped blazer, and comes right over to the bar as he always does after a rough shoot, greeting Husker with a blown kiss and sitting down a seat away from you, resting the elbows of his upper arms on the counter top.

“Summin’ strong, Whiskers.” he says, smoothing down his hair. “I’m drinkin’ to forget.”

As Husk sighs softly at the usual nickname and nods, turning away, Angel’s eyes are drawn onto you- sat there in your pyjamas, with a booklet in your small hands. His eyebrows pinch together.

“You’re not here to drink, are ya, tiny?”

You look up at him, then shake your head, looking annoyed. Angel is amused by your expression. “Well ya look like ya could use one, honestly. What’s that?” he taps your work book as you start to scowl all over again.

“Homework.” 

“What? Homewo- we have schools down here??” 

You shake your head, and your hand itches to vandalize the page in front of you. “No. Charlie told me I have to. I have to keep learning.” 

Angel can’t help but snicker at your predicament. “Buzzkill. Well I'm okay in some areas, little buddy. Pass it over.”

You’re surprised, for a split-second. A porn star wants to help you do…math. Still, you’d do anything to get out of it, so you cap your marker and slide the sheet across the countertop to him. He reads it over, squinting- much to Husk’s amusement.

“Ehh…oookayy. Yeaah. I g….I get it. Kay, so…” he sets the sheet down again, switching seats to be closer to you. He taps the page again, getting your attention. “It looks like- oh, what the- dammit, toots. Why’d ya scribble all over the page, huh?” 

When you don’t give him an answer, he looks up to Husk, sighing. “Fetch us a rubber, wouldya, baby?”

“I ain’t your slave.” Husker mumbles, but takes the rubber he uses to rid his notes on orders of mistakes and puts it on the table by your hands. Angel takes a hold of it, scrubbing the words and brushing away the shavings afterwards.

“Neat. Lemme see again.” he looks over the word problem, and starts to look just as confused as you. “This is- this is bull. What’s it even askin ya for?”

“I have to tell it how many biscuits are in the boxes.” you mumble, and hear Husker bite back raspy chuckles, with Angel struggling not to laugh as well. Your scowl deepens.

“B-biscuits?” Angel giggles, looking closer at the sheet. “Classic princess sunshine, huh? Okay, well…it says seventeen biscuits in each packet, and three in a- a box…what does that mean, toots?” he turns to you, secretly hoping you have the answer already. You don’t.

“How am I supposed to know?” you ask him, glaring down at the sheet again. “I don’t care about biscuits. They can figure it out themselves.” you reach forward to rip the sheet, before Angel takes your wrists in his hands, stopping you.

“Hold on, hold on, tiny.” he coos, trying not to laugh again. “It- it’s okay, alright? We can figure this out. So. seventeen- uh…seventeen in…three. Right? Wait, hold on…”

Husker snorts from behind the counter. “You suck at this, Angel.”

“Shut your pussy mouth.” Angel growls back, making you giggle out of shock. “You wish you could do math like me.”

You take your phone from your pocket, entering the problem into an online calculator under the table, hoping they haven’t just caught you cheating. “Got it.” you say, putting back your phone. “It’s seventeen times-”

“You little minx.”  You’re suddenly pick-pocketed by Angeldust, making you internally curse yourself as he tsks at you. He dangles your phone above your head. “I have eight eyes, toots. Didya really think that would work?”

“I hate you.”

“Woah!” Angel laughs, and Husker even chuckles a little. “So vulgar, little young’un! What do ya think Charlie would do, huh?” He pokes up your sides with his lower pair of arms, making you squeal and giggle dumbly. 

“Stop!” you push him away, embarrassed to have laughed. “You can’t even do it! There’s nothing left to do but cheat!”

“You make it sound like it’s the end of the world, piccino!” He affectionately ruffles your hair. “C'mon! Ya one of the only sober people here, ya got this.” 

“That’s because they’re under eighteen, Angel.” Husker mutters condescendingly, making Angel scowl. Angel moves the sheet around, getting you to look at it again. 

“Eyes on the prize, y/n. This’ll make you smarter than ever. Now do it off your head. Seventeen times three is..?” 

You sigh, uncapping your marker and writing seventeen, then an x, and a three below it. You write fifty-one as the answer, having remembered it from earlier. Angel grins. 

“Sweet. Okay. then um….okay, next the question asks how many biscuits will be in…” Angel gasps, taken aback by the lack of sense in the scenarios, making you giggle. “Fif- fifteen thousand biscuits?!” He snatches up the sheet, waving it around in front of Husker’s face. “These fat fuckers need fifteen thousand biscuits calculated for ‘em! Cows!” 

Both you and Husker start to laugh, your hands clutching the countertop so you won’t fall off your stool. Through the hysterical giggles, your brain has turned up to be useful after all. “I got it!” you shriek, taking back the sheet as your hand shakes with laughter. “I-I got it, I know! It wanted me to do- do seventeen times three, then the answer times f-fifteen thousand three hundred n seventy nine!”

You scratch down the answer, then fact check it on your phone after getting Angel to give it back to you. The three of you all cheer as the answer comes up- Seven hundred thousand and eighty- four, three hundred and twenty-nine. Biscuits. 

By then, you were hungry enough to eat that many biscuits, so Husker makes you a juice to drink along with them as Angel gets tipsier. You tick off the fifth question, drawing a quick doodle of Angel and Husker beside it in acknowledgement. It’s cute- who needs math when you’ve got such a talented hand? Your eyes scan down the sheet, and you giggle tiredly at the irony, looking back up at Angel and Husker.

“Okay, guys.” you say, rubbing your eyes and catching the attention of their own. “Only thirty five more questions to go.”

That was how you ended up spending the rest of your night- well, at least until you fell asleep at the bar with ten questions left on your sheet and Angel scooped you up into his many arms, taking you off to bed whilst Husker stayed at the bar, finishing off the sheet for you in his best attempt at replicating your shaky chicken scratch. Charlie didn’t have to know, and so long as you kept going back to them, she never would. 

-♥+♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥+♥-

So cute hehehe thank u for reading pookies 

More coming soon! 

#huskerdust #husk x angeldust #angeldust x husk #gn reader #reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #vivziepop #fanfic #fanfiction #gay #hellaverse #young!reader #teen!reader

[mockerycrow]

Hello!!!!!! So i was wonderinfg if you could do a piece for cod mw2? A platonic 141 (other characters can be added if youd like) x (preferably 18-20 yr old) gn or fem reader. It can be a oneshot or headcannons, i dont mind either format!!! If you do a oneshot, any scenario (a mission, off duty, etc) is fine w me!!! You basically have free reign, just keep it strictly platonic, not even a smidge of the hints w the reader and romantic relationships 👍❤️

Ain’t That A Kick In The Head? (Platonic!141 x Fem!Reader)

cod masterlist

A/N: YESS!! I LOVE PLATONIC FICS!! 99% of my writing so far has been romantic, kind of funny considering I’m aromantic and queer. thank you anon <3 i’m also sorry for taking so long. your speciality isn’t specified, but it can’t be demolitions, im sorry!! plot purposes.

[WARNINGS: mentioned misogyny, fluff.]

Considering how young you are, you deal with quite a lot of people who have low expectations for you. To be fair, you don’t have much experience, but you are a quick learner and that’s very much needed on this base. You’re a Specialist, one rank above Private in the U.S. army ranks. When people first meet you, they expect you to be a coward, a twenty year old girl—is what they like to call you—who doesn’t know the difference between a 5.56 mm cartridge and a 7.62 mm cartridge, a clueless little girl. Of course you did not know everything, but it was clear you know enough and have enough skill as you’re apart of the 141.

When you were first picked for the team, Ghost was a bit skeptical. Your age played a big factor because he was concerned about your level of experience, but he overall trusts Price’s judgement. A huge part of it was him worried about how you would take in all of the traumatizing sights they see on every mission. How you would be able to take someone down without a second thought, even if they pleaded for their life. He didn’t voice this worry, nor did he do anything to “shield” you because he knows you know what you signed up for.

You physically train/spar with Ghost and Gaz separately frequently. They are different in size and in style of defense/attack, so they both give you great pointers on how to defend yourself and how to initiate an attack. You have a schedule with them; when you’re on base, you train with Gaz Mondays and Tuesdays and Ghosts on Thursdays, preferably early in the morning with Gaz and in the evening with Ghost. Even when you perfect your own style for attack and defense, you keep training with them; “So you don’t get rusty.”

Price knows what you signed up for, and he knows that he picked you, so like everyone else on the task force, he begins to train you. Being an expert in violence and timing—unconventional warfare too, he occasionally sits in on your training sessions with Gaz and/or Ghost. Sometimes, he talks with Gaz or Ghost beforehand to set up a specific scenario for you to find a way to get out of alive.

Being said, Price takes you out as well as the team to a training field, doing the exact same thing but in a more.. realistic scenario. Being so young, he figures you still have an unacceptable type of response with “fight, flight, or freeze”. His plan is to strip away the freeze response because that’s the one that will get you killed. He also very specifically has himself and your teammates as the enemies in this field because while you’re supposed to trust your team with your life, there’s also often betrayal in the field.

Soap is a demolitions expert, as well as a sniper. He absolutely refuses to let you handle real bombs at first because he knows you didn’t specialize in demolitions like he did. After spending a few months with you, he brings out non-dangerous replicas of bombs and replicated parts to begin to show you how to take a bomb apart/defuse it, when it’s best to let it explode, or how to put one together for emergencies. He absolutely 110% makes sure you know it’s for emergencies when he isn’t there. It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable, but he can’t help but worry. Him learning about how Gaz and Price met, how Price only had seconds to shove the hostage with a bomb vest strapped to him over that railing? Fucking terrifying to him.

Gaz also helps you complete your interrogation training—not being the interrogator, but then interrogatee. Undergoing several mentally challenging tests himself of this variety, he tasks himself with giving you pointers. Your task is to keep your mouth shut about intel and escape the facility and remain hidden, uncaptured during the entire test. He’s so incredibly used to uncomfortable situations, so his pointers during this—seeing that he passed this test himself, the only one who past it in his class—his advice is helpful.

Besides training with Ghost, he coaches you ambushes and stealth. Every time you’re caught in a test, he coaches you on how to evade, on how to remain hidden even when the enemy is right in front of you. He teaches you how to set up traps and ruses, what traps are most commonly used and spotted and what ones aren’t.

Overall, they know you’re inexperienced and young, but you quickly take their advice and training into account, and you get to teach them a thing or two when you arrive on base. You learn quick and Price finally feels as if you’re ready for an intense stealth mission, accompanied by the team. They don’t have any doubt held in their hearts for you, 100% trusting your abilities.

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #mw2 2022 #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #mw2022 #cod #cod mw ghost #ghost x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #platonic #young!reader #cod headcanons

[angelstate]

DadBestFriend!Konig x Young!Reader.

DadBestFriend!Konig who always goes to your dad’s house when he isn't deployed, visits your family more than any of his actual family members because to him, having served in the military by your father’s side meant more than going to Austria and seeing his entitled sister and narcissistic mother, his dad long dead to even remember much of how he was like. 

DadBestFriend!Konig who although would never admit it out loud to anyone, does not only visit your house to see your father but also young little you, who he only got to meet when you moved in with your dad three years ago at age 18 to go to the university of your choice and study fashion design.

DadBestFriend!Konig who immediately caught a liking of your sweet and docile nature, appearing with gifts for you at your house door when he knows he isn’t home, and at first isn’t because of any malicious intention, at least not consciously. he just wants to gift you things he knows you like to show you that despite being in his 40s he is just the right fit to be your lover. 

DadBestFriend!Konig who pushes the narrative of “age is just a number” into your pretty little head, giving fucked up examples of relationships he knows his colleagues have where the age gap hadn’t been an inconvenience at all. Telling you that if it was so immoral as society make it out to be then a lot of people would be in jail. including your father because he and your mom had a 13 age gap when they got married. (disgusting bastard he is by making an example out of your parents)

DadBestFriend!Konig who visits so often your dad “convinced” him (Konig was the one of the idea) that he should move into the house instead of paying the rent of an apartment he barely used either way. claiming the house had a lot of empty space for him to occupy as he wished. 

DadBestFriend!Konig who shortly after moving in, takes 4 weeks of paid leave, saying that he only did it to get used to the house and grow comfortable to living with more people, even though he had stayed so many times over the last 10 years it was difficult to believe he needed time adjusting to anything. The only new addition your dad has had in the last three years was your presence in the house, which seemed to be a blessing more than anything else.

DadBestFriend!Konig who views you as the perfect little housewife, always doing something around the house, cooking dinner and lunch, cleaning and decorating every section of the house that is empty or lacks color. watering the plants every morning as you walked around, pajamas still on, under eye patches, and a face mask on your face. 

DadBestFriend!Konig who grows close to you quickly, not that you have anything in common, but he listens to you talk about the stupid little things young people like you are into, He often times swore he wasn’t old school, that he was a progressive man despite his age, but in reality, he wished nothing more to shut you up when you talked about wanting to work and build your career when you finished university instead of marrying someone and being a stay at home wife.

DadBestFriend!Konig who agrees with you that women shouldn’t get pregnant in their 20s. He is progressive in that at least, he knows and has seen how women resent having children so young and don’t get to experience drinking or going out. His mother was one of those women, she resented him for having him when she was 19 years old, (even though any time she brought it up he would tell her she should’ve kept her legs closed) and even more so when his dad abandoned her not even three months after he was born.

DadBestFriend!Konig who pretends to change his mind about certain topics of women being independent, playing the long game of slowly making you change your mind and have a more conservative look about certain things, the ones he knows that he needs you to have in order to make the perfect little housewife out of you.

DadBestFriend!Konig who can’t help but smile when you ask him to go shopping with you, saying that he always seems to find the most modest clothing items that had started to grow into you after Konig spent the last 2 weeks showing you and discussing how it looked well kept and professional, not outright calling it modest as to not trigger your brain into thinking he was trying to suppress your more revealing clothing style (he was though, he was really trying to suppress your “slutty” way of dressing)

DadBestFriend!Konig who doesn’t give a fuck about changing your mind about sexual modesty in the slightest, because he knows that you were too focused on your studies to sleep around, he knows you don’t like one-night stands and that guys your age don’t know how to treat women right. He feels no need to put effort into keeping you away from sexual interactions because you seem to be pretty opposed to them all by yourself.

DadBestFriend!Konig who only realizes that it also means you are pretty opposed to sleeping with him after you tell him that you aren’t looking for a partner at all and you rather just focus on yourself and your goals, that maybe after you finish your career you would consider looking for someone.

DadBestFriend!Konig who decides to double down his efforts and starts to be more pushy, leaning into you when you are cooking something, asking about the dish you're making as he cages you in between the countertop and him, pressing his chest against your back, his breath brushing against your neck, making you shiver, a small twitch of your shoulder that you don’t notice but he does, making a mental note your neck is sensitive.

DadBestFriend!Konig who is aware that sharing his most intimate problem with you isn’t appropriate but doesn’t give two fucks, telling you that is been so long since he slept with someone, that being a Colonel has left so little time available for him to meet women, that he is nothing short of pent up but doesn’t want to sleep with a woman he has never met before, needing a sort of connection before having sex.

DadBestFriend!Konig who knows he is not only being pushy but also borderline manipulative and can’t bring himself to care no matter how much the guilt eats him alive, and at times he wishes he had met you later in life so it wouldn’t be immoral of him to go after you, but God, aren’t you the perfect woman for him despite your young age and lack of experience in every aspect of life.

DadBestFriend!Konig who has an extremely big amount of self-control, having played a year-long game of playing with your mind, making you more and more open about the fact that older men treat women better, know more, and can protect you like no boy your age could ever do, giving you a more traditional look at life. He doesn’t give a fuck about having kids though, that’s why he never tried to change your mindset about being child-free, God knows he would kill himself if he ever had a kid to take care of. 

DadBestFriend!Konig who pretends to act surprised when you confess your love to him, saying his words back to him about age being just a number and if people don’t like it then they should look away. 

DadBestFriend!Konig who pretends to think about saying yes to you, pretending he cares about your youth and your ability to live it if you were with him, not because he actually cares in the slightest how it affects you, he just wants to hear your argument about it being alright, hearing his manipulative words that he fed you for a year finally coming from your mouth. 

DadBestFriend!Konig who immediately jumps at the opportunity to claim his “boyfriend privileges” the moment you say yes to being his lover. more or less dragging you to your room and throwing you on the bed, claiming on top of you till his thigh is between your legs, pressing against your covered cunt, feeling you throb at the small contact, unaware of the long night ahead of you. (Thank God your father had been deployed 4 days before, leaving the house alone with no risk of you being heard by him if you moaned too loudly.)

#konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig x y/n #konig smut #older!konig #young!reader #cod x reader #kortac #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #dadbestfriend!konig #fanfic #cod men #call of duty x reader #call of duty warzone

[simonsomeriley]

dutch van der linde with a

younger reader

1k words | female reader

@bisca-connell445 for you lovely <3

cw: (legal) age gap (r is in her mid-late 20s, dutch is in his early 40s), infidelity & unfaithfulness, dutch is a tad bit insecure, maybe ooc (?)

my apologies i accidentally ended it off in a cliff hanger 🥲 enjoy this blurb

You've had your eye on him for a while. An older, territorial, & handsome grown man with confidence in his step. Who wouldn't want him?

Of course you haven't said anything about it, much too shy to do so.

You don't know what pulls your attention to him. Is it the experience, how a man like him has experience under his belt, not afraid to take the lead in unnerving circumstances.

He's the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, you think. At least for you. You'd never say it to his face, mostly unsure of what he thinks of you.

Little do you know, Dutch sits in his bed at night, replaying your conversations in his head, overanalysing every word he says, did he come off to strong? Too distant? Too cold?

Sometimes you think he's cold with you. You're unsure if it's on purpose, but it throws you off. Usually his bubbling and sarcastic personality had never been hindered by you.

In his head, you're too good for him. He already fancies someone, after all. In an attempt not to come off too friendly, he'll accidentally come off as distant. He doesn't mean to, but he knows Molly would have the shock of her life if she found out how he looks at you.

The way the cigar hangs off his lips, the pride in his walk.

You're a proper lady, in his words. Even though you don't think that's true, you'll take his word for it.

You're a young thing, a healthy and attractive woman. Though something about you stands out to him. You're different.

He makes it less and less obvious how he looks at you, and you're sure Molly notices. You try to avoid eye contact with him, for your own good.

You think about him when you're laying under your sheets, head on the pillow, thinking about him. His voice, his confident expression, you want him. And you want him bad. This isn't good, right?

Surely if you slip up at any time Molly would notice. You're not even sure Dutch appreciates you wanting him in that aspect.

You don't see the love in their relationship. Like there's no spark. Molly defends him with her life, but to you it seems like she wants something he can't give her.

Like she's in denial.

Dutch is nonchalant, per usual he's seemingly upon his high horse, he takes pride in himself. Doesn't get dramatic.

You appreciate that in him. You see the good in him even if no one else does. You understand. At least Dutch thinks so, he'd never ever let you know. He's not risking losing the relationship you already have trying to get closer.

I could treat him better, you think. I could give him everything he wants and more, if only he'd take me. I'd say yes to him any day. Your thoughts are shaken off though,

You shake them off. You think about what he'd called you, a proper lady, you wonder what makes him think so of you. You enjoy dressing up, making your hair all pretty, laced up in corsets and bodices, wearing flowy dresses and hair pieces. You'd catch anyone's eye from a mile away, he thinks every time he sees you.

Dutch is sitting outside with Molly, eating whatever dinner there was available, pretty quietly it seems. Not a word is exchanged between them. You wonder where the tension started, why Dutch is so avoidant of her.

You come closer after spectating from a distance, you sit down at a picnic blanket a bit further away from them. Everyone seems to be out and about, minding their own business, you sit under a tree, enjoying the shadow it's supplying you.

Dutch meets your eye again, seemingly unaware of Molly's burning gaze at him. You try not to pay attention.

I wish I could read his mind, you thought. His signals are mixed all of the time.

Molly is clearly upset with him, for whatever reason, it isn't anything new to anyone.

He does his best to look proper. He freshens up his hair and his beard, he dresses in his finest suits around you and takes care of himself. His feelings were eating at him, practically eyeing you down like a hawk whenever he got the chance.

You're still standing outside now, it's night time, the stars are up and bright in the sky. He walks over to you, and your heart rate skyrockets. "How are you holdin' up, young lady?" you feel like you could die.

Usually he talks to you with confidence in his speech, fast-paced and never slurred. Right now, he looks like a flustered and smiling mess in front of you. "Dutch, have you been drinking? You seem awfully joyous this night,"

Not usually him. Just talking to him makes the butterflies in your stomach erupt. The cigar hanging off of his lips, he looks you up and down. "Well, there ain't much else to do at night, eh? You've been awfully quiet as well. Anything you thinkin' about?" he talks slurred, like he's zoned out or out of focus.

You assume he'd had a bit much. You stand and talk with him throughout the night, happy for his company and being able to see his face for however long. Eventually, the conversation gets deeper. More passionate. More... intimate. He's standing closer as well, he smells of whiskey, cigarettes and floral perfume. That must be Molly's, you presume.

He's looking you in the eye as he speaks about the things he's passionate about, like he can see right through you. You put your hand on his shoulder, a way of grounding you. Or him as well, as it takes him by shock, his eyes widen and he looks at you like you're crazy.

Is this too much? It can't be, if he had had enough of you, he wouldn't have been sticking around for so long. No doubt. He reciprocates after a while though, sneaking his arm around your waist. You smile at that, he isn't so distant after all.

Now it was only to figure out how to make him yours forever.

#simonsomeriley #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x y/n #dutch van der linde x you #dutch van der linde imagine #dutch van der linde fluff #dutch rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption two #rdr2 x reader #younger!reader #tw age gap #tw cheating #tw suggestive #young!reader #female reader #fem reader #dutch van der linde x fem!reader #molly o'shea

[platoniclokiimagines]

Imagine Loki taking on an orphan as their apprentice, taking the role of surrogate parent as well as teacher to a rambunctious preteen with the capacity for magic.

TW: None

Rating: G

WC: 2580

A/N: Hi, there! Long time no see, I know. Apparently, I’ve been hoarding finished prompts for a bit and haven’t been posting them, so I’m gonna post what I have before writing anything new for now. I have (minus this prompt) nine asks in my inbox, and I think two or three of those have been written and not posted, but once I get through what’s already done, I’ll probably be considering opening requests again, just to get some variety mixed in. As for this fic, I hope it was worth the wait. I played around a lot with how to do this, and this felt the most... chaotic and therefore in character. Enjoy!

“Loki, you can’t just take a kid you found outside.”

“Why not? That’s what Odin did with me.”

“Loki.”

“Damn, Reindeer Games, can’t argue with that logic.”

“Stark, do you really want to talk about shit dads right now?”

“No, there’s not enough alcohol in this kitchen.”

“Alright, alright,” Steve finally cut in, and everyone that had been arguing looked over at him as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Never mind any of that, do we really think it’s safe for a kid to be here at the Compound. I mean… We’re not exactly a daycare center here.”

“Well, the way I see it,” Loki began, glancing over to where you were sitting with a juice box and pretending not to listen to what they were saying. “You lot don’t let me go on missions all that often anyway, and if I can’t do anything like that to prove I’m an asset to the team, then maybe if I take care of the kid, you’ll believe me.”

“Are you… asking us to let you be a parent?” Tony deadpanned, and Natasha elbowed him in the side, despite biting back a small smirk.

“Well, if that’s what you want to call it, sure. Besides, was I supposed to just leave the unsupervised six year old where I found them?”

“I mean, there are people for that,” Steve said with a half-hearted shrug, but Loki only shook their head in response.

“Well, I found the kid first, so they’re mine.”

“Norns, Loki, you can’t just call dibs on a human being.”

“I just did. No taking it back, either. Tough.”

“Have we considered maybe asking the kid… well, anything, before we do anything further?” Bruce suggested, ever the voice of reason.

“What, you think I just picked the kid up without saying anything? Thank you, Bruce, truly wonderful to see how much you trust me.”

Several of the Avengers began to argue at that particular quip, but all of them fell silent as you finally piped up for the first time since Loki had sat you down in front of the tv to be distracted.

“I wanna stay.”

As if on cue, every single person turned to look at you, and you sipped your juice box as if you hadn’t dropped what seemed to be the most controversial thing anyone had said all evening.

“I wanna stay,” you repeated, politely sitting your juice box down. You got out of the armchair and made your way over to where all of the adults were standing, clasping your hands together in front of you.

If living on the streets at a young age had taught you anything, it was how to be cute, how to tug at heartstrings, and how to get what you wanted. By whatever means necessary.

“I don’t really have anyone,” you admitted, shrugging a shoulder. “My parents died when I was younger, so… You know. No guardians. And, uh… I’m not six, I’m ten.”

“Close enough,” Tony argued, and was quickly silenced by Natasha’s elbow in his ribs yet again.

“And I’ve been on the streets long enough to know that it’s not safe for anyone. Let alone a kid,” you continued. “So no offense to anyone in this room, but… I wanna stay here. I think it’s nice. And if Mr. Loki wants to take care of me, then that’s okay with me.”

“Ah, see? I even have the kid’s blessing. I… What was your name again?”

“Y/N. I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Loki seemed to soften as they considered you, and when they smiled warmly, you couldn’t help but to return the gesture. You hadn’t felt this comfortable around anyone in quite some time. “Well, Y/N, I’ve never really… taken care of a kid before, but, ah… There’s a first time for everything, and… Well, I’m sure this will end up more of a joint effort than anything, but if you need anything at all, and I mean anything, you come to me, alright?”

You nodded, and then looked around at each of the other Avengers standing in a semi-circle in front of you. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. And… And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just go back out. You know, on the streets. I know my way around.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. And if anyone in this room has any objections to this arrangement, well…” Loki looked around at the others, with an expression you couldn’t quite make out, before continuing in a lighthearted tone. “I suppose I’ll just have to kill them.”

“Yeah, so not helping your case, Reindeer Games.”

“Brother, you wouldn’t.”

“Oh, they probably would.”

While all the others began talking over each other in various states of both belief and disbelief, you could only laugh, because it seemed such a silly idea, for someone to be killed because of you. And before you could even really think any more on the matter, Loki had crossed over to where you were and held out a hand.

“Come. Let’s find you a room.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Settling in at the Compound came rather quickly. Well, the beginnings of settling came rather quickly. Loki helped you pick out a room, close to theirs so they could keep an eye on you, but with the promise of privacy whenever you wanted or needed it, and the other Avengers were all very welcoming, each in their own way.

But it was the better part of a year before you began to feel like you truly belonged there.

Fitting in came easily, all things considered. All things, of course, being the fact that you were a ten year old kid in the midst of the stuff of legends and superheroes, but none of them ever treated you like a baby, and what Loki had suspicioned would be the case came to fruition just as they imagined; everyone ended up co-parenting you to varying degrees, and while it was nice to have so many people look over you, you were just glad to finally feel like you were a part of a family again.

Your friendship with Loki, however… Well, they were simultaneously the most and least parent-like figure you’d ever had in your life. They were the one you went to when you had questions or needed help understanding words or phrases you hadn’t heard yet, and they checked in on you at night to make sure that you were comfortable and feeling alright. They were even the one to soothe you when you woke up in the night with bad dreams or worries that you couldn’t seem to set aside long enough to fall asleep.

But on the other hand, they taught you everything they knew. And everything they knew included a plethora of ways to make mischief and cause trouble without ever being caught. A skill that was just as fun as it was dangerous, you’d come to find out. Loki had an affinity for pranks that endangered but didn’t injure, and the other Avengers tended to be on the receiving end of said pranks. Which, of course, meant that getting caught could get the both of you in very serious trouble.

But Loki seemed to have a way of talking their way out of things, and that was a skill you had grown familiar with in your time on the streets, and with Loki’s help, you honed it into something they insisted was “truly masterful.”

You didn’t, however, always get away scot-free. While Loki had had dozens upon dozens of years to practice pranking and trickery, you were still learning. And that meant sometimes you got caught.

Which is exactly why you’d been sent to your room by Steve, who had simply not appreciated you turning everything in the cupboards upside down. A harmless prank, in your opinion, but Steve had thought otherwise, and rather than yell at you or talk down at you for it, like you might have expected from one of the others if you’d caught them in a bad mood, his way of punishment was much more tame. More suited for a pre-teen whose bane of existence was being sent to their room.

It was infuriating, in a way that something like that could only infuriate someone your age, and you were more than a little grumpy about the circumstances as you slouched on your bed, glaring a hole into the ceiling as you propped your legs up against the wall.

You didn’t realize Loki had come in until you felt the bed shift under their weight.

“Rogers told me what happened.” Their tone was even, and you couldn’t tell if they were about to congratulate you on an almost-perfectly executed prank, or advise you on how to better get away with it.

You shrugged a shoulder, and said nothing.

Loki seemed to consider this for a moment, and you could feel their gaze lingering on you.

“Do you want to tell me why you pranked him?”

You breathed out a sharp laugh. “You prank people all the time for no reason.”

“You’re right, I do. I was just wondering if you had one.”

“Does it matter if I did?” You couldn’t stop your tone from becoming defense, and you weren’t entirely sure why. Loki wasn’t saying anything that was upsetting you, exactly, but lately you’d been having a bunch of weird feelings. Like something was a little bit off with you and you weren’t sure how to handle it so your default setting had become to act standoffish and huffy. Normal for your age, you’d heard the others discussing the other night when you’d snuck out of your room after bed to listen in on them, but that didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, you felt like something was coming to a head, but you didn’t know what.

And that made you scared.

“Y/N, I just want to know what’s going on with you. I’ve noticed you’re starting to become a little more… closed off. Distant. Not like yourself.”

You rolled your eyes despite yourself. “And how do you know when I am or am not myself?”

“Well, I’ve spent the last year raising you, so-”

“Everyone in the Compound has spent the last year raising me.”

“Well, yes, but not to the degree I have. It isn’t the same.”

“What does it matter?”

“…I beg your pardon?” Loki’s hesitant response made you realize they were taken aback by your snippy response, and for some reason, that made you both angry and upset.

“What does it matter if you raised me more than they did? I still don’t…”

You didn’t finish the sentence. You didn’t need to.

You heard Loki exhale a long, slow breath before speaking. “What is all of this really about, Y/N?”

“…I don’t know. Everything feels all… weird and difficult.” You glanced at them for only a second, and then returned your gaze to the ceiling. “Have you ever felt like… no matter what you do, nothing is… right? Good enough, correct, whatever.”

“I have. Probably more than anyone else in this Compound has.” Loki’s tone was still even, but you could hear the heavy edge to their voice that assured you they were telling the truth. “Is that why you’re… acting out?”

It was an innocent enough phrase, and really it was exactly what you were doing. But for some reason, Loki using the term felt like betrayal in a way that you just didn’t have the skills to explain, and so you bristled.

“Ugh, why does everyone have to say that? I’m not a kid that doesn’t know how to act.” You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, that familiar feeling of tension and anger and heat swelling into a ball in your chest.

“No one’s saying that you are, Y/N, I just worry that you’re-”

“That I’m what? Too much to handle? A brat? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called literally anything like that, or worse.” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you were tired and angry and hurt and confused and so many other emotions at once and you didn’t know what to do with the way it felt sitting in your chest like it was.

“Y/N…” Loki’s voice had taken on a warning quality, but all it did was upset you even more.

“No. No. I’m allowed to be upset. I’m allowed to be upset a-and… and hurt and have emotions and feelings. I’m allowed to be mad!” You accentuated the word by slamming your hands down on either side of you.

What you didn’t expect, however, was for a burst of energy to expel from you, sending a ripple through the room that knocked books over and blew papers around the room as the overhead lights flickered before strengthening back to their normal power.

You froze. Unable to process what had just happened, but already worrying about what Loki was going to say to you.

When the silence became too much to bear, you turned your head just enough so that you could look back at Loki, and you were surprised to see them looking at you with an expression of complete understanding.

“You didn’t tell me you had powers.”

Well, that wasn’t the response you had been expecting at all.

Though now that Loki mentioned it, you supposed that would have been the obvious explanation for whatever you had just made happen.

“…I didn’t know…” you finally murmured when you could manage to get yourself to talk.

“No, I suspect you wouldn’t have. If magic isn’t learned, it can remain dormant until the right amount of emotions sort of… sets it free.”

You considered that, pushing yourself to sit up and scooting yourself around so that you were facing Loki. “Is that.. why I’ve been feeling so… weird inside?”

Loki made a face. “Weird how?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Iunno. Just… weird. I’ve had lots of emotions lately, and they’ve all kind of felt like they’ve been building and building and building, and now that I just did… whatever I just did, it doesn’t feel so…”

“Hard?”

You nodded slowly as you met their gaze. “Yeah.”

Loki nodded along with you, and was silent for a moment while they looked at you until they eventually cleared their throat. “Well. I suppose next is the matter of your training. And letting the others know, of course, that way there’s not any accidents are anything of the like.”

“Training?”

Loki looked at you, with a smile that you couldn’t help but to return. “Of course training. You didn’t think I was going to make you figure everything out on your own, did you?”

You relaxed, and let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in. Before you could stop yourself, you had launched yourself into Loki’s arms, hugging them so tightly that you could feel them stiffen for a moment before returning the gesture.

“…I’m really glad I have you to help me. I didn’t mean what I said earlier. You’re more of a parent than I’ve ever had in as long as I can remember. And I’m sorry for being mean.”

Loki chuckled softly, patting your back gently. “It’s no matter. You wouldn’t be my kid if you weren’t just as moody as I am, yes?”

All you could do was laugh, grateful to have a place where maybe, just maybe, you did belong, after all.

#Loki imagine #platonic Loki imagine #Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #platonic!Loki x reader #anonymous #ask #answered #thank you for the ask #parental figure!Loki #fluff #Tiny bit of angst #shenanigans #young!reader

[justice-maul]

Would you maybe write for a little reader

Little as in young? Or small? If it’s a young reader or teen reader, yes as long as it’s strictly platonic but if it’s a small reader I don’t think it would be my type of thing

#thanks for the ask! #answered asks #answered #teen reader #teen!reader #young reader #young!reader

[etfrin]

⤷❝Can't be Shared | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | somnophilia, mentions of prostitution (Snow was going to 'share' you) cunnilingus, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), possessive af Snow, impact play (he slaps your thigh once), ruined orgasm (you do cum in the end) | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow was going to share you with the elite of the Capitol but changed his mind halfway through only to have his way with you and make you the First Lady of Panem

⇢☾A/N: hehe, the longest fic I have writing so far, hope y'all enjoy this and reblog ;)

<masterlist> < bc: @cafekitsune >

He thought he would be okay with it. He was sure he would be okay with it. But he wasn't. Snow's blood boiled when the rich elitist of the capitol had begun to touch you, whisper you praises, and whatnot. The only thing that was going in his mind was his, his, his.

When had he gotten so attached, he wasn't supposed to be. Letting them touch you, and play with you was a strategic decision to get them hooked and you weren't meant to be his Queen but something had changed. Something snapping in him when the Capitols’ richest eyed you like a meal.

His jaw was clenched and he cleared his throat, “I changed my mind.” He said, “I am not sharing after all.”

You are his. His property. His bird locked in his cage and now his Queen. He pulled you closer, away from prying hands. He glared, memorizing the face of any and everyone displeased, thinking of plans of how to dispose of them quickly because even if briefly they had touched you that was a sin. No one taints the Queen but a King.

He cordially finishes dinner, keeping in mind he was a president, a newly appointed one at that even if he wanted to he couldn't drag you into his room and have his way with you. But he wanted to. His free hand is on your thigh, gripping it hard enough to leave a small bruise. His hold gets tighter the more he has to smile pretty and act polite.

You hadn't said a word, you weren't sure what to say. You were ready to be shared, used, and then discarded. Snow had told you of this beforehand, but he had changed his mind and you were grateful.

Even as he marked you, made you whimper with his grip, giving your thigh a warning squeeze to be quiet. You were relieved that he decided not to share. You were his, you liked that you were his.

Dinner took longer than you would have preferred, but when it finally came to an end, Snow leaned into you and whispered, “Be on my bed wearing my shirt and nothing else, my bird.”

You didn't reply. You get up, walking into his room, heat choking your veins and making your pussy ache and wet. You close the door as you reach the master bedroom of the manor.

Going into his closet you picked on a red shirt, knowing that it would match your skin tone well. You had taken everything else off, your panties and previous clothes on the floor. You were in full display as you didn't even button up the shirt. Your breasts are exposed to the cold air making your nipples harden.

You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come. One minute bleeds into ten and you laid down on the bed. One hour turns to several and your eyes close up. Sleep catches up with you.

You woke up with a gasp. Sleep at the edge of your mind but your mouth lets out a moan wantonly as several things hit you at once.

One. Snow was here.

Two. Snow was between your thighs, his hands keeping your thighs wide and spread for him.

Three. His lips were on your clit, sucking it vigorously making you arch your back and wanting to flinch away from the intensity.

And you tried to move away, your bud sensitive more with pain than in pleasure. How long was Snow like this, sucking at your clit. Your pussy was now impossibly slick and throbbing, wanting to be filled.

A slap was delivered onto your thigh, a hitched moan leaving your lips because of the delicious pain. “Behave,” Snow sneers at you, his blue eyes looking ravenous, his face smeared with your arousal. This was Snow? You thought for a brief second. For once he felt like a man brought down to his knees by a woman instead of something untouched.

“Sorry,” you gasp out as he dives into your cunt. His tongue drew circles onto your clit as your cunt clenched around nothing. You never thought Snow would be sloppy at anything, you thought wrong because his breathing was loud, warn air of his pants grazing your sex. His stubble brushed against your sex as all of his attention was overstimulating your clit.

He finally lost interest as you cried out that you were close just by him playing with your clit for who knows how long. It hurt. It felt good. Perfect, delicious pleasure and pain. You were dizzy, your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. Leaving no parts of your cunt untouched by his mouth. He was licking every drop of your juices, all the while he made you wetter.

Your hands were fisted into the sheets, your hips subtly moving for friction. A notion that was stopped with a squeeze of his hand on your thigh. You were brought to your high, so close to the edge you would fall in a second as moans spilled from your lips.

Only for that to be snatched away as Snow moved away. You cry out, “No! Please!” But Snow merely raised an unamused eyebrow while his hand wiped his mouth. “Snow, please,” you whispered, feeling the heat and the high of your lost orgasm.

He lets out a scoff as he sees your desperate state. “My meal is finished,” he merely said. His hand takes off the red suit, the same color as your (his) shirt. His fingers unbutton his white shirt, revealing his toned physique. Those same hands now unzipped his pants, his boxer down to the floor revealing a hard cock. The well-rounded tip leaking pre-cum.

“But I am not done with you yet,” he muses, as he moves in closer. You were sitting up now and his hand was on your nape.

“I don't think I'll ever be done with you,” he whispers, the words sealing a promise of forever. “Don't be,” you whispered back, leaning to catch his lips. Your arms around his shoulders to pull him on top of you, to feel his weight, his skin against yours.

Primal instincts take over you both as you kiss. Desperate whimpers and deep groans could be heard and his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Making it bleed and making him suck your blood into his mouth. He pulls back with a gasp, his eyes wide, his lips swollen. His taste was of a dessert you couldn't name. Addictive and delicious.

His left hand was on your cheek, another still on your nape. His thumb brushes your cheek in a manner of caring. “You're the Queen of Panem now,” he announces, making your heart jump in surprise. “The First Lady of Panem.”

With that, he seals his words with a kiss. Soft and ravishing, his tongue explores your mouth. Your hand is in his hair, the blonde locks between your fingers as you kiss back with everything you have.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing with yours, “My bird in a cage. My property.”

“I'll make sure everyone at Capitol knows it,” he said, his eyes looking at you with the ferality of an animal stripped to his bare instincts. “Is that understood, my bird?” He asked.

The answer couldn't be anything but yes. So you replied exactly that and he grins. He looked beautiful in that moment, his charms coming out making you even more needy.

You pulled him in for another kiss, his lips smiling against yours as both of your tongues tangled. His hand lowered itself and cupped your cunt. His fingers trace your entrance and you whimper into his mouth but he doesn't breach in.

He gathers your arousal on his digits, and he pulls back from the kiss to take the digits into his mouth. After sucking his fingers clean, he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself.

His hands pushed you down on the bed, your legs on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, taking you in, his bird being such a pretty mess.

He placed a kiss on your thigh that was unbelievably soft that for a moment you didn't believe it was action done by Snow's lip but the harsh bite of his mouth marking the skin of your inner thigh proved otherwise.

He leaned down, his hand in your hand above your head. Your free hand dug into his shoulder, forming crescent marks that made him groan, a choked-off desperate sound that you wanted more of.

All the while he placed his cockhead right at your entrance. You gasp as you feel the tip slip inch by inch into your velvety warmth. You wondered if he was going so slow because he wanted you to adjust to his length. However, one look at his face told you were wrong. His blonde strands clinging to his forehead, his lips parted and letting out hot breaths all the while his eyes closed shut, his eyebrows furrowed as he buried his dick into your cunt with the slow pace.

The reason he was going slow was because he wasn't sure if he could last and fuck, that got into your head. Birds are little teasers and you were no different so you clenched around him. His length half pushed in and felt your pulsing cunt wrapping itself tighter around him.

His eyes fall open as he lets out a grunt of surprise and pleasure, “Fuck.” His icy eyes glare at you, “Don't.” Your pussy only clenched further in reply and his hold gets harder, pressing your hand into the mattress as he sank in completely without a warning. “Ah!” You let out in surprise, the stretch painfully perfect.

“Take it,” he whispered to you, his lip biting your earlobe before he dragged his mouth to the pulse of your neck to mark you up properly as his property. His hips now beginning to move, calculated and controlled just like every other action of Snow. Every thrust hits your g-spot relentlessly, making you gasp and moan, back arching in pleasure.

“Gentlemen make their women cum but you're not a woman. You're my property but I am merciful so cum. Cum on my cock untouched, my bird.” He groans into your ear as his pace gets faster, a tad bit of desperation creeping in as his hips slam into you without a care. You could only moan in reply, truth is you didn't need to be touched to cum. His cock, his skin against yours, his mouth sucking your neck, and placing love bites were enough. More than so.

The heat was already forming in your stomach, waiting to be released and spread all over your body. The final push hadn't come long after. As you and Snow shared a filthy open-mouthed kiss, he had thrust so hard and deep, a small bulge had formed, your cervix being kissed with his cockhead.

You cry his name and your pussy comes on his cock, milking his length with repeated squeezes. “That's it, my bird,” he praises as he continues to abuse your cunt with his dick. Your nerves are oversensitive making you whimper and teary-eyed. He found his release with a whimper, his hot cum filling your womb. He pulled out with a small gasp and you wanted him again.

His hand ran through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands up. “First lady of Panem,” he stated, looking at you and then your body, his cum falling out of your cunt.

“First Lady…” you whispered, in disbelief and for whatever may come in the future.

#character x reader #x you #x reader #x female reader #fem reader #scenario #oneshot #smut #x reader smut #x you smut #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #snow x reader #coriolanus snow #president snow #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #thg x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes smut #tbosas #thosas smut #young president Coriolanus Snow #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #x fem!reader #dystopian fiction

[atrwriting]

future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox

#corio smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #corio snow smut #corio fic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus fic #coriolanus imagine #corio imagine #the hunger games #lucy gray #sejanus plinth #young coriolanus snow

[eshayteaparty]

Cats, claws and cards

~Fandom(s): Hazbin Hotel

~Warning(s): swearing 

~Ship(s): Husk x Angeldust 

~Word count: 1,606

~Starring gn, young!reader 

~In which you are bored in the hotel, with no other sinners your age really around, and luckily for you, Husk has a few tricks ready for the stage- or in this case, the lobby. A magnificent display, starring his famous, multi-armed assistant! 

-♥+♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥+♥-

You’d think being in hell would be a little more interesting, with all the constant and r-rated activity going on, but as you had appeared down here as a younger child and had just happened to run into the princess of hell herself looking around, you are being confined for your safety to these child-proofed walls- much to your dismay.

Charlie didn’t always have time to play with you, no matter how much she wanted to. It was easy to fall victim to your juvenile charms. But today, you are left alone to…what? Think over your choices in life? That wasn’t how you worked.

You sit up at the bar, struggling to get up onto the high stool at first, and peek over the countertop at the grouchy, crusty old cat opposite you, cleaning glasses. Husker. The two of you rarely interacted, because of course Charlie wouldn’t let a child near the bar…but Charlie wasn’t here today. 

You thought you ought to at least show manners.

“Mister kitty?” you had heard the fuzzy white bombshell of a resident, Angeldust, call him that before, and you had assumed it was out of respect, though you realized how sorely you were mistaken when he turned to face you with his ears back against his head and a scowl on his face.

He sighs. “Yeah, kid?” he isn’t going to tell you off as he would Angel, obviously. Who would do that to a kid?

…him, in most cases. But you were different. You hadn’t annoyed him too much so far, as your age led you to be shy around the others. Quiet was a good trait in his books.

“Can we play something?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Play- you wanna play? With me? I ain’t got time for games, kiddo.” he turns back around, his eyes on the bitter-smelling dishes. “Ask the princess, er' somethin’.” 

“But spidey told me you could do card tricks.”

Husker’s ears twitch, and he glances at you in his peripheral, his expression wary. “...Legs told you I-” he shakes his head. “No. no, I…I’m guessing you mean magic, don’t you? I ain’t got tricks. You shouldn’t be sittin’ up here, y/n. Someone’ll think I'm serving you.” 

You stretch your arms out on the countertop, whining as your hair flops over your eyes. “I’m borrrreeeed.”

He sighs. If anyone, you remind him most of Angel. He situates the damp towel he was using to clean over his shoulder, turning to face you as his ears twitch. He starts to smile, his eyes half-lidded.

“Bored, huh?” His tone is one that says he’s teasing you. “Really, really bored?”

You nod, spreading your fingers. “Yessss.” 

Husker sighs, thinking this over. He could either go on with getting the dishes clean, and have you sit there until you inevitably got sad from being ignored and went away.

Or…he could indulge in your suggestion. He could use some practice, after all. It'd been a while since he’d put on a show. And who were you to judge? You were a child. It would be easy to make you laugh. Win-win. 

He comes around the bar to stand beside you on your chair, then takes a hold of you under your arms, lifting you down from the stool like a doll. “Then let’s go, kid. Cmon. I've got some free time.” 

You giggle, and follow him towards the lounge in the lobby, where he had thought there’d be some free space…key word being thought. 

“Pussy cat!~” Angel cheers, swinging his long legs over the edge of the couch. Husker sighs loudly. Not him, anyone but him. 

You wave shyly at the spider demon, making him snicker. He had grown to be quite fond of you as well, despite your opposite personalities. That was what attracted, he guessed. “And company! What, is this another bootleg Disney movie night?” he reaches out to scruff up your hair gently. “Don’t tell me it’s Descendants again, y/n, baby.”

You giggle softly, shaking your head, and sit down beside him as he makes room for you on the couch. Husk pads over to the centre of the room, cracking his back and shoulders with a sigh. Angel dust’s many eyes widen with glee, and he sits up straighter, drawing his knees up to his chest. “No fucking way.”

“Language, Legs.” Husk grins fondly. “We’ve got a kid in the audience.” both you and Angeldust squeal. 

“Alright, so…” the cat rubs his paws together, and cards appear in his hands, just like that. Your heart starts to beat a little faster out of excitement, and you squeal again, clutching one of Angeldust’s lower hands. Husk grumbles. “Welcome to the show, uh…you two.” Angel cups his upper hands to his mouth. “Address us properly!!”

“Lady and Gentleman.” you start to giggle all over again. Husk shuffles his deck of cards, sniffing. 

“I'm gonna need an assistant.” he says dryly, and his lemon eyes flit between the two of you. Angeldust starts to furiously jump up and down on the couch, kicking his feet on the floor.

“Me! Me me me me me!!” he shrieks, making Husk’s ears flatten down and you fall into helpless peals of laughter. The bartender sighs, and signals Angel up to the ‘stage’ with his claw. 

He holds out his shuffled cards up to Angeldust, forcing back a smile. “Please, good sir, pick a card. Any card.” Angel starts to laugh, and pretends to mull over the decision for a long time, watching in the corner of his eye for a positive reaction from you- which he got. It delighted the two of them to see you smile, as you’re usually so withdrawn. With this, they decide to keep it up.

Angel scratches his head, and Husk grits his teeth in an ingenuine beam. “Any day now, good sir!” more laughter explodes from your mouth, childish, bubbly giggles echoing around the hotel’s lobby. Angel laughs, wiggling his fingers over the cards and bending down a little to be closer to Husk’s height.

“I’ll take this one!” he says cheerfully, pressing it to his fluffy chest. Husker grins, raising his eyebrows.

“Good, good. Keep hiding it, alright? Don’t let anybody see it.” 

As he says this, he notices Angel dust sneaking you a peek, and he covers your eyes with his paw. “I said nobody could see it! No looking, kiddo!”

You huff, but settle back into the couch, folding your arms as the show goes on. Both Angel and Husk start to smile at each other.

“Alright, mister dust.” Husk begins, his voice gravelly and mysterious. He closes in his patterned wings, making you coo in intrigue. “Tell me…was this….your card?”

He opens up his wings again, and reveals hundreds of replicas of Angel’s card stuck to the insides of them. You and Angel gasp, and you clap your hands together in praise, giggling in awe. Angel nods with vigour.

“It was my card!” angel hollers, and flashes you his card- the two of hearts. He turns back to Husk, and embraces him, spinning him around. “My king!! How did you know!?” 

Husk isn’t exactly a fan of the action, but as he sees your wide, happy smile, he flutters his wings, letting the cards fly everywhere. “I couldn’t tell you, sir. A magician never reveals his secrets.”

You catch hold of a few of the cards, cradling them in your arms. You get up from the couch to show the both of them, and they clap for you, too. You jump up and down frantically beside Husk. “That was so so cool!! You told me you couldn’t do magic!!” 

“That…uhh…” Husk scratches the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. He gently rubs your hair. “That was…that was a trick too, kiddo. A magic trick.” 

You think it must be over now, but suddenly, Husk’s pupils dilate. He stares past you, making you tilt your head. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve…” he bites back a grin, flexing his claws. “You’ve got somethin’...” Angel starts to catch on, and laughs, lifting his fingers towards your jaw.

“You’ve got a lil somethin’ right there, y/n…” he says softly, his accent sticking out as he lowers his tone. Your eyes flicker with concern, and you back up, getting scared.

“W-what? What is it?”

Husker smiles at you as Angel coaxes you back towards him, still giggling. “Hold on, I can pick it out. Stay still~”

Angel reaches behind your ear, producing a shiny gold coin from thin air. You shriek in amazement, and they’re sent into helpless laughter witnessing your reaction.

“You’re makin’ bank and didn’t even notice, kiddo.” Husk says, and takes the coin from Angel, putting it gently in your hand, making your smile even wider “Keep that one. An’ keep the cards, too. I don’t wanna clean them up. Make a….I dunno. A tower, or somethin’.  

You nod, biting your lip so you don’t overreact again. “That’s so cool!! You can both do magic, that’s awesome!” Angel reaches out one of his lower hands to Husk as you rant, and Husk takes it, squeezing it in triumph. His heart seems to beat a little easier when Angeldust is around, no matter what’s going on.

Angeldust then scoops you up into his arms, and you squeal, laughing. He spins you around. “What’s next, lil darlin’? Hm? You’ve gotta pick the next game too, yaknow~”

As you look between the two of them, up and down, you squeal, waving your hands around. “I got it, I got it!!”

They both look expectantly over at you.

“Dress up! And mister Alastor can play!!” 

((will be a part two))

-♥+♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥+♥-

So cute hehehe thank u for reading pookies 

More coming soon!

#huskerdust #angeldust x husk #husk x angeldust #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #husker hazbin hotel #angel dust #loser baby #hazbin angel dust #fanfic #fanfiction #myfics #fics #gay #hazbinhotel #reader #platonic #teen reader #young!reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin #hellaverse #pookie #patootie #cutie #fruity

[darknight3904]

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

Series Masterlist

#the hunger games #fanfic #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #katniss everdeen #mockingjay #peeta mellark #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #tom blyth #rachel zegler #jennifer lawrence #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus x you #sejanus plinth #tbosas #thg #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut

[snowsinterlude]

need someone older.

(teacher!coriolanus × student!reader.)

summary: a teacher can do a lot in private lessons.

c.w: reader is 19 for repeating a year, age gap (coryo's 29), fingering, tummy bulge, heavy smut, edging (f. recieving), overstimulation, stuffed panties, mild public sex, petnames (coryo calls reader bunny, pet, good girl.), reader thinks coryo is married so . cheating implications, marriage proposal

being a dumb girl was something you tried your best to do ever since you repeated the first year of high school, watching all your friends graduating before you was something you weren't proud about- not for them, but for you. you were supposed to be by their side.

thankfully, you had your professor, coriolanus snow. god. he was the only reason for you to pay attention to class (or at least try to), you were hungry for his approval. for you to be called a "good girl", and be said that you've done well in your tests? yeah, you were willing to do anything for that.

when he offered you private classes, you said yeah without even thinking much. you needed to learn, and spending more time with him was something you craved for. the ring on his finger? fuck it. you wanted it. you deserved it. more than his wife – if he had one.

you've been day dreaming about it constantly, eyes always searching for his on every class you had with him, and he would keep that smile painted on his face, not wanting anyone to think you were the reason for him to be smiling, even if you were, the didn't need to know about it.

"bunny," he voiced, leaning on your desk and taking advantage of the fact that you both were on the library, every student on the school had gone home and the teachers had gathered to go to a nearby bar. "stop looking at my dick now, will we?" he said, chuckling at you.

"huh?" you asked, finally waking to your reality.

"you need to learn that if you don't want to repeat a grade again." he said, sitting by your side, his hand holding your thigh. "you don't want to repeat now, do you?" you shaked your head negatively, and he loved seeing you like that, shy as a kitten even if you usually had his dick on your mouth when that used to happen. "c'mon, don't look at me like that. we have to put these things on your brain if you want to graduate already." he said.

his fingers slowly travelled all the way up on your panties, finding a small damp on the fabric, he looked at you with his usual smirk, his pupils blown already from everything he was about to do to you.

and now you looked like a mess. hands gripping on the library desk as your legs trembled with the aftermath of every time you almost came. you counted six till now, crying from how good it felt having him behind you, his fingers thrusting lewdly into your cunt.

"c-coryo- t-teacher, please. please stop it, i have to cum- i can't hold it in anymore!" you begged, clenching as his fingers rubbed deliciously on your clit after thrusting so many times inside you.

"well, it's not my fault, pet. you're the one getting your questions wrong." he said, pulling his dick to tease the core of your pussy, your cries only making him feel and making his ego bigger. "tell me, baby, how do you want it?"

"q-quick, pleease! if it get slower i-i think i'll die!" you said, legs spread as your skirt revealed a small part of your ass.

"oh, c'mon, i'm sure you can take it, baby" he purred in your ear, the tip of his cock teasing your pussy and slapping your clit slightly, making your body jolt slightly. you bend over, your elbows being now your main support at that table.

"please, teacher..!" you begged. but he didn’t even bat an eye to your cries, slowly sliding his dick inside you, and fuck, you both fucked on wednesday, how come he always seems to stretch you up so good? the pace he choose to torture you with was so slow, making sure you felt every inch of his dick inside you, stretching you, making you his. "please, don't do that to me. j-just ask something easier!" you cried.

"easier? okay... let's see" his hips bucked slowly into yours, your pussy gushing around him as if your own body needed that- as if he was the hair you breathed for. "what's your age, babe?" he asked, a playful tone being cast as his free hand massaged your boob, pinching on your nipple and freeing both your boobs from it's cage.

"n-nineteen." you said, and he laughed again as he said: "good girl, you're right.", his hips giving you a powerful thrust that made you cum with only that, making you cry from your own humiliation.

"ah, bunny, don't tell me you came already only with that." he said, joking with your face as you cried.

"i'm sorry- too good. i-it was too deep." he laughed, pulling back and thrusting deeper again, this time, you made sure not to cum again, edging yourself as he changed your position to put your leg over his broad shoulder, his dick making a bulge appear at your tummy. he loved that view- much more than he loved you.

"look at you, taking me so well. how does it feel, baby? use one of the words we learned at the literature class," he grunted your tightness coating his dick with your own juices, "use them, even if it's just two, and i'll let you cum."

"tortuous," you begin, crying from how good it felt, from how dumb you were getting. "spiralling, it's twirling my insides!" you cried. and he smilled, kissing and licking your tears before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips, pouding faster into you as you closed your eyes shut, moaning and grunting from all the pleasure- and yet you tried your best to avoid moaning only to hear his moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.

"good girl." he said, his hands holding your hips as he fucked you. it felt truly out of your world experience. his phone ringed just at the right moment he hit your cervix. "t-teacher, your phone- it can be your wife." you said, earning a frown from him as he turned the phone off.

"wife? baby, i'm single." he said, chuckling at you. "you've been walking around school with my cum stuffed in your panties even thought you thought i was married?" he pounded into you with a more quicken pace. "god, what a dirty girl you are. fucking around with married teachers." he teased you.

you felt a heat on your cheeks that you never felt before. god, how much would you end up humiliating yourself? "b-but, fuck! y-your ring-"

he showed you the ring. taking it off his finger with his mouth and sticking his tongue to you, an invitation for you to take the ring.

"keep it." he said once you took the ring

"but- s-sir, i-"

"mm, bunny, i'm a faithful man." he said. "and right now, i'm faithful to you." he said. you squirmed deliciously at the feeling of his cock filling you up again, his tip on your cervix as you came again, and soon enough, he came too.

he helped you get dressed into your panties again and straightned your clothes, a cast kiss on your lips before he smiled sweetly at you, putting the ring on your middle finger.

"i hope you know what that means."

"i-i do." you said, for both questions heavily implied in that context.

"great. then make sure to graduate, bunny." he smiled. "i'm sure the honeymoon will be great."

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #young president snow #tbosas smut #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #teacher crush #teacher x student #dark!coriolanus snow

[quicksilversg1rl]

this man is taking over every fibre of my being and i HATE IT

i want control over my own mind again thanks!

#tom blyth #coriolanus snow x you #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader

[m0chaminx]

Coriolanus Snow | “What about you?” “She's the star.” “Luckily I Like Roses.”

*•.¸♡Request: omg can you write a coryo x reader, i don’t mind what, just pls don’t make him go batshit crazy at the end😩😩

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, I completely forgot the other Covey peoples names :I, reader is shorter than Snow, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, and yes he's a terrible person but you’re here too

*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolauns Snow x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: On Coriolanus’s trip down to the lake with the star Lucy Gray, he found the most beautiful rose ever seen

Or

Coriolanus pervs on you while swimming (romantic)

*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k

Part 2

Growing up in the Covey had been a stroke of luck, simple as it gets, when Lucy Gray Baird and her family had been forced into District 12 Seeing the talent you had with a guitar one night as you played to the darkness, they took you to their next show where you played alongside Lucy Gray. She was still the star, she had the smile, the voice, the charisma. You could sing when you needed to, and you played the guitar just as well, but she always took the spotlight. And when she strolled into town after winning the Hunger Games, that star power only grew. She was the star, until one sunny morning.

Mockingjay's sang into the wind, the warm sun beating against your skin and the gentle breeze made your sundress flow in the wind. Meeting Lucy and the others on the walk to the lake you came face to face with Coriolanus Snow. Buzzed blonde hair, sharp jawline and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. His smile was bright, and his laugh was as sweet as Lucy’s singing. And it should be, he was laughing at her jokes. Smiling at her. Before he could catch you staring your eyes had shifted quickly, focussing on Lucy as you walked to her side.

She beamed as she saw you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

“Coriolanus, I want you to meet only the bestest person in the world,” Lucy went on, kissing you quickly on the cheek.

The same smile returned as he turned to shake your hand, his skin soft on your calloused palms. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He spoke your name softly, the syllables dripping from his tongue like honey. Your hand slipped from his, the tips of his fingers running along your palm.

Lucy quickly ushered you and the rest of the group on, starting the long hike down the green hills. Lucy walked ahead with Aurora, talking wistfully into the wind. You walked in silence, one hand gripping the strap of your satchel as you watched the critters race up the branches of the trees.

“Lucy said you played the guitar,” Coriolanus spoke up, swatting away another mosquito. He walked beside you, his tall figure blocking the sun from your face. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Why didn’t I see you performing last night?”

You simply shrugged. The answer was the crowds didn’t cheer for you, Lucy was the star, and she could play for hours without backup. But it sounded sad. You looked over the trees, the Mockingjay's flying higher into the trees. “Nothing special, you probably just missed me when I left.”

Coriolanus shook his head softly, “I feel like I’d remember you.” You couldn’t place what Coriolanus meant, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought over his words. You didn't say anything more after that, keeping your eyes ahead on the track leading to the lake.

As soon as the dock was close enough Aurora and Tip had stripped their clothes off and thrown themselves in the water. You tossed your bag down, the hot sun that had beat against your skin had made you more than happy to rush into the water. Tossing your sundress aside with your satchel you ran down the dock and dove under the crystal blue water. The cool lake chilled your skin enough to relieve the sun but not enough to raise goosebumps.

You swam up to the surface, pushed the hair back for your face and fixed the straps of your handmade bra that slid down your shoulder. Lucy jumped in after you, and with a yell, Coriolanus jumped in, the splash of water hitting your face. You laughed, using your arms to keep you afloat. Coriolanus muttered an apology through a smile, but you barely noticed as your eyes fell over his light skin, his collar bones and muscular shoulders.

The lake was sweet, a nice relief from the constant smell of coal and sweat, the rowdy crowds and the smell of liquor on everyone's breath. Some time later Lucy had swam to shore, helping Aaroa and Tip fish and dig up Katniss' roots.

You floated on your back, the gentle waves lapping at your skin as the sun warmed your face. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the dock, toying with his fingers as he watched you. The wind blew the waves softly, the sun reflecting on your skin like liquid gold. He pushed himself off the dock, slipping below the cold water once again. “Can I hear you sing?” His voice made you turn your head to look at him.

“I don’t sing,” You muttered, turning your head to face the sun again.

“Lucy said you sing.”

You turned to swim properly, treading water. “If you wanna hear someone sing you should ask Lucy,” You insisted. You pushed yourself closer, slipping your fingers under the slim metal chain of his dog tags, untangling the knot. You moved it to hang properly from his neck, your nails dragging ever so slightly across his soft skin.

His icy blue eye moved from your hand on his skin and looked up at your face, droplets of water falling from your hair, and slipping down your skin and when they hit your lips, you swiped them away with your tongue. “I wanna hear you sing.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours as you lifted her gaze from the metal chain.

You chuckled softly and he swore it sounded like the sweetest melody, a honeydew sound that he couldn't help but smile at. “You’re funny Coriolanus Snow,” you said softly. “Turning down the winner of the Hunger Games. A true victor.”

Coriolanus wiped a hand down his face, wiping away the water running over his eyes. “What about you?” He asked.

You shook your head softly. “She’s the star, the songbird,” You insisted, unsure you were convincing him or yourself. His smile made your stomach flip, his gaze made your cheeks burn, but his words… his honey words.

His hand slowly reached out, his fingers slipping beneath the strap of your bra and sliding it back up your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a moment before falling back into the water. “Luckily I like roses.”

ﾟ°☆Page navigation

#m0chaminx #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut

[jacesvelaryons]

spicy links. (pt 1)

here’s some spicy twt links of billy the kid and young coriolanus snow to boost your imagination

again none of these are mine and belong to their respective owners. explicit,18+ content be warned.

if you’d like more, please like and reblog or message me or send me any suggestions you have on my inbox! 📥

masterlist shall be updated and revamped.

coryo

forest

pliant

in the shower

punishment

sticky n sloppy

fingering

put it back in

don’t look away

hands behind your back

eyes closed

ridin

rough

billy the kid

save a horse, ride a cowboy

feast

good boy

worship

lovemaking

mirror

playful

after a long day

#spicy links #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #billy the kid x reader #william bonney #billy the kid #young president snow

[shellxrls]

SFW

lovedrunk!snow who loves to fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent to lull him into a restful sleep. freeing him of the paranoia that you might leave him in the middle of the night.

lovedrunk!snow who wraps his entire arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, burying his face into your hair and peppering kisses along your hairline.

lovedrunk!snow who ignores his capitol duties in favour of letting you sit in his lap and tell him about your day.

lovedrunk!snow who lets you call him an assortment of cutesy nicknames - "babe", "coryy", "coryoo", - that he would rather die than hear coming out of anyone else's mouth.

NSFW - mdni | 18+ content cw: explicit smut, unprotected PinV, breeding kink, cockwarming

lovedrunk!snow who fucks you sloppy n dirty against whatever surface he can find, desperate to get his hands on your hot skin and ravage you with his mouth, his fingers and his cock.

lovedrunk!snow who lets you dig your nails into the muscled flesh of his back and claw red and raised marks because he wants to be able to carry lasting reminders of you with him.

lovedrunk!snow who prefers fucking you in missionary bc that way you get to lay there all pretty, hair spread in a halo, while his abs tense and he fucks into you as hard as he can.

lovedrunk!snow who'll let you ride him just so that he can bottom out every time and watch your combined fluids dribble out onto his pelvis and stick to each other with every thrust.

lovedrunk!snow who wants to breed you - "ah f-fuck baby im gonna cum inside you, 'm gonna push all this cum deep inside, you're gonna look so beautiful pregnant."

lovedrunk!snow who lets you cockwarm him when you wake up in a restless fit, holding your back tight against his chest while he does his work.

#my works.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #mdni.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blythe #coriolanus x you #tbosas #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader smut #coriolanus x reader smut #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #president snow #tom blyth #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x reader fluff

[kafkasmuses]

innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.

tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment

coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.

he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.

what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”

“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”

he clears his throat, “sorry?”

“do you—“

“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“

“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.

you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.

“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”

he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.

loud incorrect buzzer.

he doesn’t!

coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.

“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.

he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”

“cocaine,” you swallow.

“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”

he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.

you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”

he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”

“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”

he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”

a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.

“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.

you bat your lashes at him, “what—“

“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.

you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”

he nods, “‘m positive.”

“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.

you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”

“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.

“good girl.”

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.

sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.

isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.

a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.

sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”

coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”

“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”

“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”

arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.

sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.

coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.

he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.

festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.

coriolanus heard his sex is never good.

funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.

coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.

what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.

coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”

you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”

“princess?” festus snickers.

coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”

coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”

festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”

coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”

your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.

festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”

his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.

“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.

“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.

so you do.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.

“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”

“sometimes—“

“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”

it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.

“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.

his tone is softer now, “why?”

“i didn’t know—“

“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”

you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”

your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”

his lips drop to a frown, “why?”

your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”

“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”

“what? why not?”

“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”

“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.

“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.

you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”

then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”

“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”

“that’s okay—“

“—i’m bad news—“

“—i don’t think that—“

“—i’m dangerous, doll.”

you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”

you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.

“you know how to chop up cocaine?”

you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”

“i’ll show you.”

and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”

he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”

“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.

“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”

“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.

he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”

you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”

your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”

“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”

“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”

“do you want it?” you pause your movements.

“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”

you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”

“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.

you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”

you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”

“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.

to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.

yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?

the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?

he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”

he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”

“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.

“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”

of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.

his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”

“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.

“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”

his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.

it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.

how cute.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.

you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”

he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”

and it’s true, you really were special.

you were a dangerous man’s doll.

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x y/n #tom blyth #billy the kid x you #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid #tom blyth smut #young president snow #young snow #coriolanus drabble #smut