?

This is so fucking good 💗🔥🥵😵

𝐁𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐆𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 - 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐚

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐦𝐚'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝐝𝐮𝐛 𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧? 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝟑.𝟕𝐤

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

The last thing Akaza wanted to do was meet with Douma, but it was needed. After years of searching, he had finally come across information regarding the Blue Spider Lily. And as aggravating as it is, Akaza came to the conclusion that he needed Douma’s help. After all, Muzan hasn’t let up on updates in regards to the flower. It’s just the best option. 

Seeing Douma was already enough - an insufferable headache, but seeing you would be an entirely different feeling. Two things stand in Akaza’s way tonight. 

You, who’s been degraded simply as a toy. A “prized possession.” And the Upper Moon 2. 

It’s not that you had the choice of being held captive like this, Akaza knows. Douma doesn’t usually open his arms to humans as he thrives on feasting on the desperate, using them for money and food. He’s never shed an ounce of care to anyone, until you. And Akaza knows why, he sees it. 

To his disdain, Akaza has known you for a little over a year now. However, it’s been quite inevitable to pay a visit to Douma’s often due to Muzan’s orders. 

And with that, he can see how special you are in the little time he’s been around you. How soft your skin looks, the way you shy away from Douma’s touch, your pleading eyes every time he needs to stop by Eternal Paradise. At first, Akaza thought you’d be a meal the Upper 2 is saving to ripen up for the right moment, but after a few visits, he could see the demon has taken a liking to you. 

You never say much, though, and that unknowingly opened a door of curiosity to Akaza. So, he began watching you closely during his visits. 

It turns out that it’s a shame, a disgrace, how Douma treats you - having you wait on his beck and call - treating you like a doll. A disgrace how Douma dresses you everyday, forces a spoon to your mouth every meal, speak when spoken to… The bastard has you right at his hip everywhere he goes but as soon as he needs to attend business with Muzan, he resorts to chaining you up. Akaza isn’t surprised by the demon’s behavior, he’s used to Douma being a scumbag, but he can’t help the thought of how you feel. How you got sucked into all of this and just accept the treatment given to you. 

Because Akaza can recall more than once how many times he's walked in on you bent over the bed, Douma roughly pulling at your hair to keep your head up, or a hand wrapped around your pretty throat, your mouth filled with Douma’s cock, you completely naked straddled over the demon being split over his cock while hes fully dressed - you name it. All while the Upper moon smiles sadistically at your scrunched up face, cooing in your ear. 

If Akaza could somehow voice his thoughts, Douma would disagree with the perception of rough treatment. He feeds you, clothes you, has given you a title in Eternal Paradise… you’ve gotten anything you’ve ever wanted and more. What's so bad about that? You’ve never back talked or tried to escape. He’s given you the life he thinks you deserve. He just simply adores you. 

And Akaza’s the only other demon who knows that an Upper Moon has taken a human for pleasure other than killing. In a fucked up way, he choses to. Douma keeps his secrets, so he will keep Douma’s. Especially if it means that you’ll be kept around long enough.

Akaza doesn't make a sound when he walks through the forest leading up to Eternal Paradise, the sky pitch black as the moon shines through the trees. He’s quick when jumping up, running across the roof of the mansion leading up to Douma’s room. 

-

It’s a routine night for you and Douma and the last member of Paradise had just left. Your head lays across his thigh as he sits upright in his throne. The room is dim and quiet as the candle lights flicker. He likes this time alone with you, as today was very busy for him. You don’t dare move a muscle until he says so, so you lay there peacefully as his fingers shift through your hair over and over, petting you gently while he hums a lullaby.

Every night ends like this after the last person stumbles through the door pleading for Lord Douma to help them. As always, he is more than happy to give them a home here at his paradise. He clothes them, feeds them and many work around the palace to tend to the gardens and clean. People seem to have a very fulfilling life here when they are at their lowest. And so it seems that after a certain amount of time, they leave. You believe Lord Douma helps led these people back on the right path in life. 

But for you, you have a different role here. And that’s why you can’t view the gardens, you can’t chat with the members of paradise. You’re bound to the Lord - to never escape his sight. 

Hearing a soft thump disrupts the silence. You look towards the open balcony, careful not to move your head on Douma’s lap. As the curtains flow with the gentle breeze, you can make out Akaza’s figure illuminated by the moon standing still between the balcony doors. 

“Ahh, Lord Akaza!” Douma greets, but his hand does not falter from petting you. “What a lovely night isn’t it? Not a cloud in the sky, you can see all the stars tonight!” 

You can see Akaza’s muscles tense as he steps in the room, his hands clenched and glued by his sides. When Lord Akaza shows up, he always seems like he’s holding back. You can see the hatred in his eyes and the way he stills when talking, yet he still visits the Lord. You’ve grown to drown out the conversations they have, and you really don’t know who the tattooed man is other than his name, but you can decipher these meetings and all the names you hear are tied to Douma’s sanctuary. 

“I’ve come to discuss the Blue Spider Lily.” 

“Why don’t you come make yourself comfortable, Lord Akaza? I haven’t seen you in a while, I’ve started to worry.” Douma’s cheerful voice fills the room. 

Akaza stands for a moment as he scans the room before his golden eyes land on you. 

“Come here old friend! Don’t be shy.”

The tattooed man thinks for a moment and without saying a word, he takes a seat in front of you and Douma on the floor before the throne. Usually he wouldn’t do this. In all honesty, in the back of his brain, he is disgusted with himself for showing such willingness to the bastard. He’d never shown an ounce of respect towards the Upper 2, but the way your eyes follow his every move intrigues him. His body moves without thought. He needs to see you up close. 

“I’ve overheard some information about the flower Lord Muzan has been searching for and-”

“Ya, ya!” The hand that's been petting you throws up in the air, waving off Akaza’s words. “I don’t want to discuss work, I’ve been working all day-” he pouts, “what have you been up to? Tell me something new, dearest friend.”

You're so close to the Upper 3, that when he gets cut off you can see clearly how his eye twitches in irritation. You can’t count it, but a long moment of silence thickens the room. 

“Ahh, my comrade, no need to scowl. You never smile! I just want to have a nice conversation. You don’t know how exhausting people can be, always telling us such negative things. Such a long day for me and my darling, you know? It’s nice to see such a familiar face, isn’t it my dear?” 

You nod against Douma’s lap as Akaza’s eyes find yours. “Yes, Lord Founder.” 

“Ah my sweet, you know not to call me that in front of friends! Work is over now.” 

“Yes, Douma.” You comply, and Akaza’s heart pings through his chest, gritting his teeth watching you obey the bastard without a thought in your mind. Douma notices this. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” A hand brushes your cheek to cup your jawline, “just the most beautiful thing in this world, right Akaza?” The white haired man hums.

The pair of golden eyes in the dimly lit room are unwavering, glued to yours as he sits silently. 

“C’mon Lord Akaza! Tell her she’s beautiful!” Douma persists. The hand over your jawline moves slightly, a finger grazes over your lips, asking politely to let it in. And you do. Your mouth drops slightly to cradle Doumas finger with your tongue, sucking down when he pushes in more. 

The Upper 3 swallows thickly, and you can see his chest rise and fall a little quicker now. 

“Yes,” his response is airy.

Douma grins, keeping his eyes on Akaza - the man who refuses to take his gaze away from you.

“I see you, Akaza. I see it every time you visit.” A second finger gently pushes through your lips and presses down on your tongue, causing your mouth to drop open. Your saliva pools onto Doumas pants. Your body is trained by every touch the Lord makes, much to your dislike, but you can’t help how fat your body grows hot just from this.

“You can’t help but stare at her. She’s such a beauty, I don’t blame you one bit.”

Akaza straightens his back, taking his attention towards Douma. “Lord Muzan-”

Your moan interrupts his sentence. This is the second time he’s been interrupted, but it’s not as infuriating as the first. If anything, it spikes anxiety in his chest as his eyes are quick to look at you. 

Your face is flushed and your mouth is drooling all over Douma’s fingers, soaking his pants as he continues to push in and out of your lips. Looking down, Akaza can see Douma’s other hand playing with your breast over your dress, teasing and twisting your nipple as you squirm. 

Akaza pries his eyes away, forcing himself to come back down to reality. Before he could move to stand, Douma’s voice is low and soft as he asks.

“Would you like to have a go? She’d be happy to please our good friend, right darling?” You give a nod after a pause.

Akaza’s eyes widened, unsure from shock, from disgust or from… something else. 

There’s no way he’d stoop to this level, right? He sees the way you’re treated by this monster. He fucking hates the guy. Your delicate body getting abused by him, he can’t handle thinking about it. Douma repulses him. 

Douma is quick to hoist you between his legs, your back to his chest as his feet swoop over your ankles, causing your legs to stay wide open and in place. 

“Look, she’s not wearing anything under her dress! I keep her like this all the time. I can’t get enough. You’ll see why - Just look, look at how pretty her pussy is.” Douma voice sing-songs through the room again, happy as ever to persuade the other Upper Moon. 

“Fuck you.” Akaza stands quickly to leave. 

“Are you sure Akaza? Look at her, she’s so needy.” He pauses, “She needs you, see?” 

Douma’s hand slithers between your legs to rub your cunt a few times before spreading you open. You can’t help but buck your hips into his touch, your pussy getting slick with minimal effort. 

A soft smack to your cunt makes you jump. “Be good, darling.” Douma says lowly in your ear as a light warning. 

Fuck Douma. Akaza’s face is burning, his heart pounds loudly through his ears. He can’t do this. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, but he can’t do it like this. His mind races back and forth, does he want this? Fuck Douma. The throbbing in his pants says another thing. And, fuck, does he ache for you. He’s been hard since the moment he saw you tonight., of course he has. But now, he's painfully constricting his own pants. It’s hard to deny anyone in the room, including himself, that he doesn’t want this. Fuck Douma.

It's been a true battle deep within himself about how he feels towards you, towards Douma, towards the whole situation.

“C’mon comrade! I can hold her just like this and you can fuck her however you want! She’s so sweet- will let you do anything.” Douma presses a quick kiss to your temple. 

Akaza’s chest heaves deeply, his veins constrict as he stands there seething. His body is hot with hatred, but his blood feels like lava aching to touch you. 

He could show you what really feels good, not this sadistic shit Douma puts you through. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes meet yours. What he would do to see you come undone. He needs to see that fucked out face again, it’s burned in his memory. The only thing he can picture after all the times he’s walked in on you and Douma - you.

Akaza slowly turns back to face you both and you immediately see how hard he is through his pants. Precum is already leaking through the fabric as his cock is strained against it - he looks painfully hard. 

“C’mon Akaza, be my guest.” 

Like a moth to flame, Akaza mindlessly steps forward to kneel before your open legs. Saliva builds thickly in his mouth taking in the sight of your pretty cunt as Douma rubs little circles around your clit. 

Douma’s eyes are dark and wide, smiling ear to ear as he watches Akaza become entranced by you. But as soon as Akaza leans forward for a taste, Douma speaks up.

“No need to prep her Akaza, that’s for another time. I can see how you want to fuck her right now, why don’t you just do it?”

The tattooed man's teeth clench with the other’s words. Fuck Douma. 

Before Akaza makes a move, he looks up to your pleading eyes. You look so beautiful. 

Akaza pulls down his pants only to his thighs to free his aching cock before fingers are shoved forcefully in his mouth. 

“But I’ll let you taste her like this for now, isn’t she so sweet? Everything about her is fucking perfect dont you think?” Douma plunges his fingers, rolling around Akaza’s tongue so he can get a proper taste. 

For a second, he’s bewildered by Douma putting his hands on him, but that thought was flushed away when he tasted you on his tongue. And holy fuck did you taste like heaven. With fingers in his mouth, Akaza’s eyebrows furrowed as he jerks himself off to tasting you. 

“What do you say to our dearest friend, sweet girl?”

“P-please Lord Akaza, I want you inside me.” Your voice is needy. Your stomach bubbles with anticipation. Looking between your legs as Akaza jerks off you take a good look at what’s coming. He’s thick, thicker than your lord, but not as long. His head is agitated, red from throbbing and oozing in precum, slicking down with every stroke he makes. The sound of Douma’s fingers in his mouth mixed with slick clicking from him touching himself fill the room. 

The clicking noises get faster, golden eyes stare down between your legs as Douma plays with your went cunt before him. 

“Ah ah, Lord Akaza, slow down, you’ll want to save that. She’s so tight! She’ll suck you in so bad you don’t think you’ll ever get out!” 

And with that, Douma removes his fingers to lift your dress up all the way, revealing your stomach and breasts. Akaza’s body shakes with need, his eyes blown wide taking in the sight of your whole body. 

“Come on, comrade, she needs you. Look at how wet you got her!”

The next thing you feel is Akazas blunt head poke your clit, running his cock easily along your folds. The man lets out a staggered sigh, his eyes glued to the movement as his hand slithers under your knee and around your thigh. Blunt fingernails knead into your flesh as he rocks himself over your cunt. 

You’re unsure of how Douma wants you to perform. Butterflies fill your lower stomach, the heat is unbearable as you want to rock against the man too. The feeling of his cock dragging along your folds then his balls pressing against your opening makes you want to cry at how badly you want to come. With every drag away from you, your slick strings to his balls and it feels like a crime.

You look up to Douma with pleading eyes, unsure of what he wants. He’s never shared you with anyone. You’ve come to learn Douma is incredibly possessive of you. 

A sadistic, dark face is already staring down at you when you look up. Colorful eyes blown wide as his mouth is curled up in that creepy smile he does, the same exact face he makes when you cry, or gag or plead with him when he fucks you. 

It’s pure unhinged lust.

“Show him how good he’s making you feel.” 

This gives you the green light to buck your hips into Akaza, letting out a soft whimper. Your hips roll and grind into his cock back, making him groan. 

“You make her feel good, Akaza, look at how wet she is! Put it in, you’ll wanna see the face she makes, it’s like the gates of heaven. Like looking at a real life angel!”

Akaza’s blunt head slides down once more and meets his head to your opening, and without any warning, he presses in. 

“Holy fuck-” Akaza breathes. 

Your back arches away from Douma, your head falling back into his chest as your mouth lolls open. Akaza’s thickness stretches you out like nothing before, and you feel every inch of it. 

Hands come up to cup your cheeks, “Oh, sweet baby, look at you! Oh Lord Akaza, look at this face! So perfect.” 

Akaza is transfixed on your face. Tears swell at the corners of your eyes and fall, your lips open like this look so perfect, your furrowed eyebrows - its taking everything not to come right here and now. 

Akaza bottoms out. His balls press firmly against your ass. He can feel every quiver you make. 

“Look at him, look at how good your pussy is!” Doumas hands squeeze your cheeks to obey. You look up through thick lashes and tears to Akaza’s mouth slacked and eyes half lidded. To no warning, he pulls out and thrusts back into you. 

“Hmph!” You whimper with every stroke he gives you. 

Akaza cant control himself, no fucking way now. You’re so tight, sucking him in with every thrust and not letting go when he pulls back. You’re fucking pure sin. You really are an angel. 

“Tell her she's beautiful, Akaza.”

Without a thought in his mind he obeys breathlessly, “So fuckin’ beautiful- so pretty.’

“You hear that darling? You really are something! Grab her, fuck her faster, she likes that. Maybe you’ll get her to come! You wanna come?” A finger taps at your cheek and you nod. 

With every thrust, your head rubs up against Douma’s cock. It’s hard under his clothing and you can still feel the heat radiating, but he doesn’t seem like he wants to do anything about that. Douma is fully engaged in letting Akaza take you tonight. 

Akaza groans, picking up the pace. The squelching of wetness is hard to ignore with every movement. 

The Upper 3 moves his hands to grip at your hips, digging and bruising the flesh. His golden eyes fixated on every motion your body gives, from the bouncing of your tits, to the ripples of your skin. He won’t say it out loud, but you feel so fucking good. The way your body responds to him, the way your face is fucked out with peasure makes him think Douma is the luckiest fucking bastard. Anger bubbles in his stomach, but as soon as his eyes meet yours, it’s replaced by obsession.

You fuck back into Akaza, letting go of all inhibitions. You’re breathless now, feeling every inch of his cock pound into you as Douma holds you down for him to do so. Douma’s eyes watching every move of you both, completely enamored by the sight. 

Pleasure festers within you, and you turn into a blubbering mess. 

“Lord Akaza- feels so good- you feel s’good,” in which Akaza responds with pressing his weight into you deeper, fucking you deeper. He doesn’t give a fuck how close he is to Douma right now, he only cares about you. You cloud his vision.

Your vision gets hazy, seeing Akaza through heavy lidded eyes as you moan “going to-”

“Come baby. Come all over his cock, yeah? Keep going, Akaza, she’s so close! I can’t wait for you to see this!”

Your orgasm comes quickly, your walls twitch and tighten around his cock and your vision gets spotty. Your jaw slacks open, but your vision remains on him. Your hands come up to squeeze Akaza’s shoulders, scratching him deeply with your nails.

Akaza is breathless, his own orgasm quickly approaching. Without thinking, he leads into you to give a needy kiss. Your lips are hot, your face is wet from tears, but he doesn't care. He feels so fucking good right now. 

A desperate tongue forces past your lips, and you let him. His face and body press against you so hard that it's difficult to breathe. His lips suck on your tongue, his breath hot and fast as his fingers painfully dig into your sides. 

“Fill her up, Lord Akaza! Come inside her.” Douma insists, fingers now digging into your head, pressing you even further into the upper moon's kiss. 

Akaza sees white. Pushing as hard as he can, unknowingly crushing your body, he spills into your cunt. Groaning and shaking as he grinds into you, lips still glued to yours, shooting cum deep within you. 

A few moments pass before anyone moves again. Douma’s fingers shift to your sticky and sweaty hair now, brushing everything out of your face as Akaza lays on top of you, inhaling every scent he can. 

“Wonderful job! You both did amazing. My darling, you did so well.” He sings before placing a kiss on your forehead. 

He hums, “Now, what about that Blue Spider Lily?”

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their stage names, either."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple. Something easy, yet not so simple.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

mf this damn fucking fireworks being spammed in the sky, like what the actually fuck.

POV: you try to join the mean girls (you're firecracker)

Sugar and Sweet

I DID IT I FINALLY WROTE IT 😎

Paring : Dark!Coriolanus Snow x bimbo reader

Warnings : degradation, yandere, smut...

From the moment the midwives handed his daughter to him, Casca Highbottom knew he would do everything in his power to protect her from the horrors of the world. With your mother passing away a few weeks after your birth, leaving your father as your sole parent, it came as no shock that you were a complete daddy's girl.

You were a pure soul, a little angel without a mean bone in your body, always trusting and kind towards anyone you met, albeit some would snicker behind your back, calling you foolish and naive, but for the most part, people couldn't help but be drawn towards your sugar and sweet personality.

The first time Coriolanus Snow saw you, he was eight. You were a little thing wearing a puffy pink princess dress and playing on the swings with the boy from the Plinth family when a group of elitists came to mock the boy. Usually, Coriolanus ignores the ruckus, thinking himself above it all. On that day, he couldn't help staying and watching as you stood in front of Sejanus and told the bullies to leave him alone. Of course, that had ended with you getting pushed down and scraping your knees; luckily, your father had arrived just in time to save you, "stupid girl." Coriolanus mumbled before leaving the playground.

That was all years ago. Now, at eighteen, Coriolanus was far from the little boy in the playground; having become an excellent actor, never letting anyone notice the imperfections of his life in between the cracks, and you, oh how he hated you with your pretty (h/c) hair and perfect life, the little darling of the academy, always surrounded by people trying to carry favor with you in hopes of getting in the good graces of your father, everyone knowing how much Casaca Highbottom spoiled his precious daughter.

"I hate her." Coriolanus would whisper breathlessly, waking up from another one of his filthy dreams with you in it, "You're mine !" He'd moan in the shower, hand on his cock, as he imagined you on your knees struggling to fit all of him in your mouth.

Anyone else would've had a hard time hiding their desires, but Coriolanus was different; he'd been aloof when he saw you that day, smiling as if he hadn't just cleaned the bathroom tiles at his home after he'd cum with thoughts of defiling you.

There was only one person who saw through Coriolanus's acts, Dean Highbottom saw the boy for what he was, a vicious snake biding time before striking, so he had tried everything to keep you away from Coriolanus, but you simply ignored your father's warnings, "Coryo's a good person, papa !" Words that made the aging man worry for you more than before, but try as he might, you still continued to spend time with Coriolanus, much to the boys' satisfaction.

It all started when a professor paired the two of you to complete an assignment. Despite popular belief, you were actually quite intelligent, a fact that shocked Coriolanus, who only saw you as a pretty fool. During the time spent together, you'd developed a crush on him. Who could blame you...He was just so charming, with pretty blue eyes and Icy blonde hair. He noticed, of course, the way you'd blush and stutter around him, and he used it to his advantage.

"I don't love her," he'd remind himself while kissing your pouty lips. "I'm just using her to get back at Highbottom." He'd think, as you gave him a kiss on the cheek holding the rose he gave you, so why did his blood boil when he saw you giggling at something Sejanus said or the sweet smile you gave Felix after thanking him for helping you get a book from the top library shelf...

Even now, with him on top of you as he trailed kisses down your neck, he didn't want to believe it. "Do I actually..." No, of course he didn't. He couldn't possibly have fallen in love with you; that was ridiculous. You were too sweet for his taste, always bringing him little snacks you made, holding his hand in reassurance when he took you to his mother's grave, telling him you were so happy he was your boyfriend...

"I...I love you, Coryo." You'd cried doe eyes filled with tears as he rutted into you for the first time, his cock so deep you'd felt it hit your cervix, your virgin blood staining the silky sheets of your childhood bed "f..fuck." he'd groaned, biting your already brused neck, "Say it again." He demanded it this time, as he trusted in you faster and harder, desperate to have you speak the words to him again as he filled you up with his cum.

"I love you too..."

Coriolanus mumbled, running his hands through your soft (h/c) locks, having finally come to terms with his own emotions as he looked at your sleeping face, your hands clinging on to his bare chest right on his heart as if you'd known the beating organ was yours to claim all along. There was no denying it anymore. "Snow had fallen."

Likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated !

My ask box is always open if anyone wants to talk !

Might do a part 2 if I'm motivated enough 💅🏼

Taglist for this : @wotcherpeak @2summer-sound2 @2summer-sound2 @jadelakes @sleepydang @notyourwildestdream @prettyinsatiable @themorriganisamonster @isa-swlyn @poppyflower-22

IM SO READY FOR THIS MOVIE!!

✿ good girl

`` a/n: this fic is inspired by princessbellecerise and sugerapplefairy, low-key reader being a little cute bimbo is living rent-free in my head like omg, like it's living in my brain.

warning: misogynistic coriolanus, smut, objectification, dumbification, creampie, spanking, bathroom sex, groping, kitchen sex, reader being a housewife, reader being a stupid little bimbo + nymphet.

pairing: coriolanus x bimbo!reader

word counter: 1.2k

ਏਓ ` Imagine being coriolanus stupid bimbo wife, it is easy to be with him. He gives you a stress-free, lavish life with money, expensive things, and jewelry. It was an easy choice for Coriolanus to pick you, you were attractive, with perfect curves sculpting on your petite body and dreamy tits propping up on your chest. It was easy to control your little empty head, he controlled what you do, money, and everything making sure your being a good little girl.

ਏਓ ` A good little housewife for him, you cook, clean for him, and wearing a cute light dress, and no panties or a bra underneath because you knew coriolanus hated not having easy access to you. Every time coriolanus came home, you were always awake, running a bath for him, but what would always happen would be him fucking you in the tub, soap suds covering your body. Your hands holding the sides of the bathtub, as he abused your cunt, mewls rolling off your tongue.

ਏਓ ` When coriolanus is stressed, you would always know what to do, taking his cock down your throat making you gag, tears pricking your waterline, moaning out. His hands force you down the shaft of his cock, facefucking you. Rolling your tongue at the tip of his cock, your lips bitten up, your mascara smudging your blushy cheeks, making eye contact with him as you took him whole.

ਏਓ ` he loves either making you swallow his cum or giving you a facial, his cock spurring cum onto your little cute face and your perky chest. On your knees like a whore for him, coated in his warm hot cum.

ਏਓ ` He loves groping your chest when he stressed, his rough hands twisting your delicate nubs making you squirm from his touch, clenching around nothing. Even fingering you, he enjoys dumbing you down, it stroked his ego. Your little screams and yelps, boosting his ego.

ਏਓ ` Your little play doll for him to change, shape, and form. He programs you to do things he wants, and you just nod your head at his words though you don't understand them, just giving him a smile on your lips. A sexual object for him to put his cock in and breed, as he spreads your legs apart, your delicate fingers already spreading your pussylips for him, ready to take his cock inside of you. Biting your lip, rolling your eyes as he plunges into you. Harsh comments slipped out of his mouth like 'Slut', 'whore' or 'Bitch' as he harshly fucked you, almost making you bleed.

ਏਓ ` When he's working on important papers for work, you would be his cocksleeve, his cock stuffed into your wet cunt. Slopping sounds coming from you, as he did his work. His cock bulging in your stomach, squirming around. Your cheeks being flushed, and your lips bitten up, all red. Your nipples poked out from the light fabric of the dress, whines coming out from your mouth and him just ignoring you as you tried to move but everytime he would purposely smack his pelvis into you, making you jolt.

ਏਓ ` Coriolanus loves to see his bimbo wife all dolled up in lingerie or short-dressed, making sure to order a bunch for you and giving you an extra amount of money to buy the special lingerie he likes. Bunch of reds, pink, and whites. All lacy, with bows, ribbons, some tights, and garters. Your body lying down on the bed, all dressed up for him to just ruin you.

ਏਓ ` Imagine being in the kitchen, making dinner for him and his hands just all over you, his lips on your neck, and him grinding on your ass. It was super hard for you to stay focused, trying to make him stop but you knew he wouldn't just for you to bend over, your dress flipped and fucked raw, his cock slipping in and out of you, your face on the cold porcelain counter.

ਏਓ ` He loves to edge you, slapping his cock onto your clit, watching you as you writhe being desperate to be filled.

ਏਓ ` He loves to punish you for stupid things just to emphasize his control over you, making sure you crawl on all fours, in your cami dress, while he sits on a red velvety couch, as you crawl to him looking up at him, with a sad expression, tears dripping down on your cheeks. You felt guilt about what you did, though you didn't know it yourself. Laying on your stomach, bent over on his lap. Your body was almost bare, just a light dress covering you. As he spanks you, your body jolts from the pain, fat tears dripping from your eyes, his hands slapping the plush of your ass. Your whines falling deaf on his ears.

ਏਓ ` When Coriolanus fucks he loves pulling by your hair, forcing you up as he plunges into you further, doggy style, his cock kissing your cervix deliciously. His finger slipped into your mouth, gagging your moans, being forced to breathe through your nose, his cock snapping into you.

ਏਓ `Coriolanus always track your cycle, making sure to cum into you a lot when your ovulating, so you'll be pumped with his warm cum burrowing into you further. He would love to see your stomach filled with cum, awaiting a baby. Your breast filled with milk, and your belly all round and big, even if you were pregnant he would still fuck you, just more gently, but still hard.

"𝐀 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞"

n.o.t.e.s - The animate version of Doma got my toes curling.

w.a.r.n - penetration, creampies, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), non-con.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - Douma x Fem!human reader

w.c. - 1.2k

You remember your childhood like it was yesterday, living in debt by your parents. Sitting down on the grass, with your dirty kimono and hair, was messy as well.

Your parents were in debt, barely able to afford food for you and your siblings, working day and night for you while you helped with your siblings until your parents sold you off to the Ogimoto house. While you sat down at the wooden vanity, you removed white powder off your face.

It wasn't hard for you to climb the ranks of the Ogimoto house; it was preferably easy because of your beauty which tricks many of your clients into spending a lot in the house.

You were now a high-ranked Oiran, earning the Ogimoto house honor for your beauty and body. Rubbing off the red pigment off your lips, staring at yourself in the mirror with your bare face, gently touching your skin.

Here you are, looking at your raw beauty in the mirror, covered by powder and makeup, the top of your yukata slipped down to your shoulders, showing pieces of your skin. Unsurprisingly, your beauty was a weapon against other houses, your price went up, and your demand was higher than other Oirans in the red-light district, making the Ogimoto house busy with business.

Before you got to stand up, you heard the sliding shoji door open. A silvered head man walked into the room, he wore a black-to-red kimono. "Oh, I thought Daki was here" he exclaimed, flicking his golden fans over his face, his multi-colored eyes staring at you menacingly.

Your screams were still in your chest, as your heart was pumping fast, "But you're a too beautiful and for me not for me to enjoy"

"W-who are you" you yelled, crawling back until you hit your head on the surface of the wall, you manage to take one of your sharp hair pins. your eyes still on the silvered-head man. He walked towards your shaking body.

"Does it really matter" he cooed at you, cocking his head to the side, giving you a eerily smile.

Before you can even protect yourself, he was face to face with you holding your throat. You tried to pry his hand from your throat but failed too, struggling to find your breath.

"Be a doll, and don't scream" he whispered into your ear, your eyes staring at him in fear.

"Nod if you understand, darling" he demanded, you reluctantly nodding to his demands, his grip off your throat

"Now, beautiful, you'll do what I say before I consume you. Take your clothes," he said, gently cupping your face, his sharp fingers grazing your cheek, making a little cut on the cheek, soon licking the blood droplet.

You obeyed what the demon said as you trembled to remove your yukata, His multicolored eyes looking at you while you stripped yourself of your clothes, every piece of it.

The last fabric slipped off, showing your bare body to the silvered-head demon.

The rainbow-eyed demon licked his lick, as he saw your bare body in a display of him, your hands fisted in a ball. You were too smart to go against the strong demon, but the aura of the said demon gave you a bad feeling, especially with the kanji that look to be carved into his eye.

The number two.

You never saw a demon before, but from your first encounter, there were fearful beings.

The silver-head demon walked to you and cupped your face, he force you to look into his colored eyes, "You are gorgeous, maybe even tastier than most women, what's your name" the demon exclaimed.

"Y-Y/N" you stumbled out,

"Y/N" He tested it out, "Y/N-chan" he smiled at you, before he placed his hands on your bare shoulder, looking at you up and down, "Daki wasn't lying how beautiful you are, you sure look like a oiran"

"My name is Doma, Y/N-chan" he analyzed you and your name body.

You could barely even respond, how quick his fingers were already side you, before you got pressed on the wall.

You stumbled a moan out, from the quick action.

Your breast up against his chest, his finger plunging further side you, before pulling it out of you, giving a quick lick of his fingers.

"Your even more delicious, Y/N-chan" he looked at you with lust covered eyes.

The beating of your heart seemed to be growing rapidly near him, "Y/N.." Doma said, before he cocked his head to the side.

"...Turn around and bend over" he demanded, giving you a creepy smile.

You obey Doma, bending yourself to the walk, gripping your hands to the wall, exposing more of your parents to the demon.

It felt like the tension in the room could be sliced with a knife, before you felt his hands taking both your hands with one of his own pressing it to your bare back, forcing your body into the wall, your breast squished into the shoji wall.

You watched his movement with the corners it your eyes. The noise of a belt coming off, made your body tremble.

It was normal for you in the district with your clients, but you never did this with a demon nevertheless.

You felt him lining up to your entrance, his member splitting you open, the searing pain in your cunt. The simmering pain, as you tried to just to his size.

Your walls fluttered around his cock.

His hips rolling into yours, jackhammering in your pussy, you felt the pain in your lower region, hitting your lips.

"Fufufu, who knew your this wet for me, y/n-chan~" he whispered into your ear teasing you, he licked the tops of your ears.

Your hand still binds together, his razor-sharp nails scraping your hips. The pain turned into pleasure as he frequently plunged into you, you curved your back more, and your moans ranged out.

You lolled out your tongue, and your breath got heavier, feeling your legs numbed. Your cunt was on fire before you saw white, moaning out loud, turn your head back to get a glance of Doma.

His eyes were still filled with lust and contentment.

Your head was on the wall, his cock getting further into your cunt, your moans ranged out of your lips, eyes watering. Your pussylips dripped off your juices and blood.

He placed his head on your shoulder, muttering sinful things into your ears, making you hotter.

He bit your shoulder before spilling his seed into you; his white essence dripped down your legs, your walls sucking him dry.

Before he withdrew his dick from you, you fell to the floor, mixed liquids dripping onto the floor, before he shoved his dick into your mouth, kicking the oxygen out of you.

"Suck it" he demanded, his cock coming out and in into your mouth. Slick coating your lips, dripping onto your chest.

You looked at him, your e/c making eye contact with his own multi-colored eyes, before he took your head, slamming your head to his pelvis.

His pelvic hair tickled your face, drooling dripping out your mouth.

His length hit the back of your throat, gagging on it, trying to get air into your lungs, before he spilled his seed into your mouth, he grabbed the back of you by the hair off his cock.

A string of spit connected his dick to your mouth, and your tongue lolled out, as you greedily tried to breathe in the air.

Your eyelids felt heavy before you turn around to see Doma already have his pants on, fixing himself together. He bent down to your level, "Y/N-chan, I will spar your life, but.." he put one of his fingers on his cheek.

"You have to serve me and suit my needs" he smiled, as he finished, before gently grabbing your chin, tilting it up.

Your face felt hot, but who knew that you would be here just fucked a demon and got cummed in, but you had to face the fact.

"Yes, Doma"

Pls do something with peacekeeper!Coriolanus I have yet to see anyone do that trope + I feel like he’s more mean and protective in that era

mastermind |peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: based off above prompt, but wanted to tweak it a teeny tiny bit so this is how coriolanus meets capitol!reader. the plot of the original film is altered a little to fit this.

contains: tw- violence, guns, shooting. dark, protective, manipulative coriolanus. not super heavy, but there are some kinda darkish themes so read at your own discretion.

“Snow,” Commander Hoff’s gruff voice rang through the doorway, hitting Coriolanous head on, his heart lurching with fear. They found out about Lucy Gray, that she’d escaped after Mayfair and Billy’s death. Or maybe worse, maybe she hadn’t headed north, maybe she’d told them. 

His mind raced as he took a step forward, helmet in hand respectfully, hoping Hoff wouldn’t see the way his hands trembled. “Commander, Sir.” Snow held his head high. If this was to be the end, he wouldn’t go out crying. Not like Sejanus- no, Corio would have pride. 

Hoff set the papers down on his desk with a huff, head jerking back for Coriolanus to come towards him. “Snow, I need you to escort Miss Duke to the Mayor’s office.” He nodded towards the corner. “I guess with the recent tragedy of his daughter, Mayor Mayfield’s mind has been elsewhere. He didn’t get his quarterly tesserae count turned in. The Capitol sent Miss Duke to get them, so make sure she gets there.” 

Coriolanus’ eyes wandered to you, standing in the corner properly, hands clasped elegantly in front of you. A shining beacon in the dark skies of the coal country, a glimmering ray of good after all the bad Corio had. He could tell you were from The Capitol, though you tried to dress more humbly for the visit to the district, he supposed. 

You gave him a smile, and for a moment, Corio’s heart leapt with excitement. That familiar rush of heat returning, coursing through his chest. “Private Snow will take you there, Miss Duke. He’s one of our best. On his way to officer training in Two. You’re in good hands.” Commander Hoff nodded. 

You thanked him quietly, kitten heels clicking across the hardwood floors. Coriolanus followed you, trying to keep his stoic expression, though his eyes wandered to the swell of your ass, hugged perfectly in your dress. 

“Snow,” Commander Hoff called before he left. “A word?” 

The icy chill of fear flooded back into Corio’s system, gripping the knob. You didn’t seem to notice, nodding politely, shutting the door behind you. 

“Sir?” Coriolanus swallowed the lump in his throat, approaching the desk slowly. 

Hoff leaned back in his chair. “You know who that is, right?” 

Coriolanus blinked. His mind had been so occupied with his impending doom, his fate had seemed to turn and tread on the worst sides of things, he was so sure it would continue. “Miss Duke?” 

Hoff blinked at him, laughing softly. “Yeah, Duke, Snow.” He pressed. Coriolanus felt dumb, small like he did when he talked to Highbottom. “Snow, does the name Atticus Duke mean anything to you?” 

Coriolanus' eyes widened lightly, turning towards the door in surprise. “Atticus Duke? The-” 

“-The man who owns half of Panem?” Hoff snorted lightly. “Yeah, that’s his youngest out there. Only girl, alright?” 

Coriolanus felt his curiosity peek. He’d been wallowing in the loss of Lucy Gray, he didn’t even put it together. Thinking you were just another Capitol girl. Not the Duke Heiress. 

“Yes, sir. I-I see that now.” Corio nodded dumbly. 

“Good. So you know that her father paid for the destruction of the rebellion? That he funded the Capitol? And that if these people see her, those fucking Rebels are likely to want to hurt her?” Hoff pressed, his eyes narrowed in seriousness. “And that if something happens to her, our entire platoon will be hanging from that tree- or worse?” 

It shouldn’t have made Coriolanus as excited as he was. The thought of having that much power. He could easily have that level of control, have people quaking with fear- even the powerful ones, trembling at his feet the way Atticus Duke did. Oh, how he envied it. How he craved it. 

“Yes, sir.” Coriolanus nodded. 

“Snow, listen to me.” Hoff sat up straight, leaning over the desk. “If any of them get close to her, no mercy- do you understand?” 

Coriolanus nodded again, spine straightening with authority. “I have others trailing and leading the both of you- crowd control, but I wanted her to feel safe. Feel welcome. So I stuck her with you. Figured a familiar face from the Capitol would put her at some ease. Keep her from telling her father something that would have him questioning my rank and order around here.” 

“I understand, Commander.” Coriolanus said firmly. “I’ll keep her safe.” 

“Wow,” You muttered, looking around the cobbled street. The Peacekeepers ahead of you barking orders, scaring off any pedestrians wandering about. “Is it always like this?” 

Corio blinked, his gun cradled in his hand, finger on the trigger- ready. “Always like what?” 

“This,” You waved around you. “It’s very…” 

“Depressing?” Corio muttered, a grumble, eyes scanning the perimeter in front of him over the gray skies and smog filled air. 

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I pictured it… prettier?” 

“It’s the coal district, Miss Duke.” Coriolanus said, the barrel of his gun pointed for backup at a scurrying coal miner. 

“So that’s what makes it so sad?” You challenged, brow raised. 

Corio didn’t answer. He knew what you were implying, and he wouldn’t humor it. Instead, his eyes scanned the street. “May I ask why you’re here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“What?” Corio snapped, harsher than he meant to. 

“Why you’re here?” You repeated. “I, uh, I don’t want to sound rude. I just- I saw you on the games. You were the mentor who won. I just, I figured you would be at University with the others.” 

“I made an enemy. A powerful one.” Corio quipped shortly, jaw set. He couldn’t let his mind race and spiral, not now. He needed to stay focused. 

“Oh,” You muttered, looking down at the wet, broken road. “I’m sorry.” 

Corio’s heart skipped, maybe with joy, maybe with fear. “May I ask you why you’re here?” Coriolanus asked, eyes cutting down towards you. 

“I have to get the count for the tesserae.” You motioned towards the Mayor’s office before you. “I have to take them back to The Capitol.” 

“Yes, but,” Corio paused, scanning the area. “You’re- Surely, you don’t need to do that, Miss Duke.” He muttered, voice dropping to a low octave. 

You blushed, sheepishly looking towards your shoes, ruined from the muck in the road. “So, Commander Hoff briefed you on me?” You grinned. 

Coriolanus didn’t answer. “I already knew.” He lied easily, eyes cutting to you. “We’ve met before. In passing. I was Sejanus’ friend.” 

“Oh,” Your face fell. “Right. I-I am so sorry for your loss. It was-” 

“-Yes.” Corio nodded, the bile rising in his throat. “We-We met at the Academy’s Ball two springs ago.” 

You turned, looking at him fully for the first time. He tried not to blush, icy eyes meeting your own for a moment. “That’s right.” You grinned. “You-You had longer hair. Tigris’ cousin?” 

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. 

“She was apprenticing for my aunt.” You smiled softly. 

Corio looked at you, his rigid posture slacking just for a moment, relaxing in your presence. “Why aren’t you doing something like that?” He asked, brows furrowing for a moment. “Or in University, yourself. Surely that would be… more appropriate than this.”

You bit back a smile, chin ducking down. “Maybe.” You shrugged. “I like this job, though. I get to see the Districts.” 

“Why would you ever want to do that?” Corio snarled lightly. “I can’t wait to get out of them. Get away from these people.” He muttered bitterly. 

You blinked at him, eyes narrowing lightly, stopping before the steps of the Mayor’s building. “You seemed quite fond of that song bird you helped win.” You countered. “And she was among these people.” 

Coriolanus was stunned, mouth opening stupidly, before swallowing his jumbled words. Instead, he offered you his arm politely for you to steady yourself on while you climbed the steps to the Mayor’s office. 

Coriolanus waited outside the office at attention while you collected the tesseraes for the quarter from a distraught, and clearly drunken, Mayor Mayfield. His slurred speech, pores sweating out whiskey soaked odor. 

You took the envelope, thanking him before quickly slipping out. Coriolanus stood beside you, falling back into step with you, the other Peacekeepers joining around the two of you. 

“You’re returning to The Capitol today?” Corio asked, though his eyes stayed straight ahead. 

“They asked me to stay the night.” You answered simply. “Something about a train leaving in the morning?” You looked at him carefully. You knew he was to join you with the others. You’d given the orders from Dr. Gaul to Commander Hoff that morning.

Coriolanus frowned, turning to you curiously. “Tomorrow? Why would they make you-” 

The ravenous bark of Peacekeepers in front of you made you jump, a deranged looking man, covered in soot from the mines, charging at you with a vengeful pace. You froze, clutching the envelope in front of you like a shield, glued to the concrete in pure fear. 

“Gimme that envelope, you stupid bitch!” The man roared, mere feet away from you. “Get my daughter’s name outta there! Take it out!” 

You flinched, bracing for the impact of him hitting you, his body hurling towards yours. It never came. Instead, a shot behind you had a gasp tearing from your lungs. The bullet so close to your own head, you heard it whizzing past you like the June Bugs that flew in the fields in the countryside of the district. 

The man grunted, a bloody gurgle, a crimson patch seeping through his stomach. The other Peacekeepers seized him, shouting and grabbing at him, hauling him away roughly. Your hand trembled, pressing to your lips. Coriolanus stood behind you, gun lowering, finger still on the trigger. 

His face was hard, stoic, eyes narrowed dangerously- furiously. “Come on.” Coriolanus muttered, a hand gently on your back, guiding you forwards. The crowds were peering, poking around at the sound of gunshots, the groans and screams of the man. “We need to get you to the Commander’s Quarters.” 

“Snow, hey, look we-we didn’t see him-” One Peacekeeper jogged frantically, hands trembling in fear. “He just- He came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry, Miss.” 

“It’s alrig-” 

“-Come on.” Coriolanus hissed, cutting your apology off short. “We need to get her back quickly. Can you manage that?” He snapped at the other boy. 

The other boy faltered for a moment, scrambling back into line. You were still shaking, pushed into Corio’s side far closer than what would be appropriate for two strangers. “He-He was just saying sorry.” You muttered, your own eyes scanning around you. 

“He nearly got you killed.” Coriolanus snapped, his eyes hard but they never met your gaze, scanning around you protectively. “His carelessness nearly cost you your life.” Cost us all our lives, Corio thought. 

You didn’t respond, only stepping with his quickened pace. 

“Are you alright?” You asked Coriolanus, peeking around the corner of the train station towards him. 

He was surprised to see you, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been. He assumed the ‘Princess of Panem’ would have her own private carriage on the train, not subjected to riding with him. 

“I think I’m supposed to ask you that.” Corio gave a half smile, a tone much lighter than it was before. 

You blushed, looking down. “I’m alright.” You sighed lightly. “I told your Commander that. I promise I don’t need an escort back to The Capitol.” 

Coriolanus looked down at his bags. “I’m not- I’m returning to The Capitol as well.” He said, chest boasting at the words. 

“Oh?” You lifted a brow. “No District Two?” 

“No,” Corio shook his head. “I’ve been asked to return.” It was vague, and he knew it- knew it piqued your interest. 

“Well, congratulations. I’m sure your family will be excited.” You smiled politely, lifting your own overnight bag when the train doors opened. 

“Here,” Coriolanus stopped you, reaching for the strap of the bags. Your hands brushed in the smallest way. Overlapping as he took the bag politely, a surge of electricity jolted between both of you, rapid sparks that would crescendo in the days, weeks, years to come. 

You blushed, turning your head to hide the way it flustered you. It was so embarrassingly juvenile, his eyes sparkling, lips tugging in a grin when he looked at you, pinky grazing over your knuckle just for a moment before he held the bag. 

“Allow me.” Coriolanus was smug, proud, pulling the bag up. He let you on first, placing the bags away, eyes cutting towards you. You were stealing a glance at him, turning after being caught sheepishly. 

You had the window seat, looking out at the smoggy station. “Is this seat taken?” Corio asked, hand resting on the arm of the seat next to you. 

You shook your head, moving your hands to your lap. You were so poised, Corio knew it had been drilled into your head since you were young, just as it was to him. His mind raced with excitement, the idea of getting you to be so improper, defile you. 

“Do you know your orders once you return?” You asked, looking at him carefully. The trains whistle trilling in the background. 

“I’m not sure.” It was a complete lie, he only knew a fraction of what awaited him when he returned. All the more reason he needed an ally, a powerful one at that. 

“Why?” Corio pressed, leaning forward to look at you. His dog tags hung loosely around his neck, draping over his underclothes of his uniform. It made your heart race. 

“I was just curious.” You shrugged, swallowing gently. 

“You were wanting to see me again?” Corio pressed, boldly. His heart skipped when you whipped around, staring at him with a wide eyed expression. 

“W-What?” You choked out, trying to remain calm, composed, but your heart was beating so fastly you were sure it would burst. 

“Were you wanting to see me again?” Coriolanus hummed, shifting in his seat to turn towards you. You were pressed against the glass, pinned by his gaze. “Because I was hoping to see you again. If you’d have me.” 

“You would?” You squeaked, sure that your fluster was apparent all over your face. 

“If you’d let me.” Corio purred smoothly. “I’d like to take you out sometime. Get to know you better. I’m very,” His fingers brushed over your own hand, satisfied at how you shuddered. “Interested in getting to know you.” 

You swallowed. No man had ever been so direct with you. He’d saved you the night before, so effortlessly. The feeling of his bicep around you, shielding you away, strong and steady. It had you sneaking your fingers between your thighs later that night shamefully at the thought. 

“I-I would like that.” You nodded, mind screaming when his hand held your, cradled with such care, you almost forgot how brutal he was yesterday. 

“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus asked, head tilting to the side. He wanted to set the date before you forgot, before you had time to ask around about him or think too much about his actions before. 

“That-That would be lovely.” You nodded, tongue swelling thickly in your mouth, heart hammering as he pushed closer and closer. 

His hand cradled your jaw softly, thumb stroking over your cheek bone. “May I?” Corio hummed, eyes lustful. 

You nodded. You weren’t quite sure why, you’d certainly never done something like this before. But then his lips were on you, hand cradling your jaw, moving to the back of your head gently. He migrated into your chair, somewhere between the Districts, hands on your back, pulling you in closer and closer. He kissed you like a man starved, possessively and passionately all at once- it made your head spin. 

It dawned on Coriolanus, what Dr. Gaul was talking about. Sacrifice, while brutal, was necessary. Losing Lucy Gray, Sejanus, without that would it have ever brought you to him? He would be in the woods, starving with a girl who nearly used him to survive, or hanging from a tree next to Sejanus. Certainly not sitting side by side in the train car, stealing small smiles and gentle kisses with you. His fate had turned, re-routed and he could see it now- his future, his empire with you. 

they lowkey fine asf, smash both ways df.

this pic should be illegal i need them to fucking beat me to be able to move on with my life good night