More Like Angels

More like Angels

Pairings: Hades!Jason Todd x Angel!Reader.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, mentions of torture (tongue cutting, nudity, etc), forbidden love, possession, minor injuries.

Summary: Jason Todd, one of the most powerful Greek gods, takes a specific liking to a certain Angel.

Jason knew that he was obsessed the moment you had stepped into the underworld, but who was to tell him that his obsession was wrong?

You must have been the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, your soft hair falling over your shoulders in waves and your wings strong and beautiful, dragging along the polished floor behind you with grace. You were adorned in gold jewels from Hera, and a white gown that hugged your curves perfectly and left little to his imagination.

Although your gaze was downcast, stood behind Hera, or otherwise his sister, Cassandra, he could see the innocent curiosity in your eyes as you glanced around his palace. It must have been very different compared to your home in Olympus. When you finally noticed his gaze, you were quick to avert them back to your feet, a deep blush coating your cheeks.

Jason knew then that he had to have you.

Somehow, he had managed to convince Hera to stay longer than intended, meaning that you would be staying, too. Jason would find any pathetic excuse to get you alone, sending the other angels off for tasks but insisting that you stay at his side. For what reason? He never said.

He would make flirtatious comments whenever he could, loving the reaction he pulled from you every time. Your flustered expression would always play in his mind, and it only made him do it more when you had no intention of stopping him. A god and an angel were never meant to be, and Jason knew this very well.

When you had asked him a question about his home, referring to him as Hades, he was quick to correct you almost instantly. It was Jason to you. Only you. Of course, you had been hesitant to refer to him as his proper name, but after consistent reminding from Jason, you had slowly begun to ease into the routine, secretly loving the way his name practically rolled off your tongue.

He found any excuse to touch you, whether it be simply grazing the tips of his fingers along the feathers of your wings, claiming how soft they were, or simply reaching over to feel your flesh against his own. You let him, loving the feeling yourself. No god had ever been this intimate with any angel before, yet Jason planned to change that.

It was no surprise to Jason when he heard the rumors - he would pass his servants within the corridors to which he would hear the quiet murmurs of whispers and burning eyes. Maybe he should have felt embarrassed, afraid even, but he couldn't help the pride blooming within him.

You, however, were much different. You could feel the lingering gazes of people whenever you stepped out of your room, deciding then that it was best to just stay in your room alone until you were personally requested by the gods. You hated the watchful eyes, hated the whispers and false rumors that continued to spread, and it made you fearful of what could happen if the gods were to find out your close relationship to the god of the underworld.

You had to admit that you loved Jason's presence. He was charming, daring, kind (to you, at least), and behind all of his anger, gentle. You refused to admit it to yourself, but you held a strong attraction for the young god.

Jason would always have a close eye on you, watching as you flowed with grace so easily around his home. It was like you had lived here this whole time. He swore that you would purposefully tease him, wearing clothes that were snug on your hips and breasts, talking to him with that sweet voice of yours... and he hated how much it affected him.

Of course, you weren't aware of this until later he had you pinned against your bedroom wall, lips trailing down your neck in pants and open-mouthed kisses, leaving purple marks in his wake. Anything to prove that you were officially his.

It had taken you by surprise, but you didn't hold back from kissing Jason back when his lips finally landed on yours, rough and wanting. His hands were eagerly grasping at the plush of your ass, causing for your mouth to open in a gasp which he quickly used to his advantage, slipping his tongue in.

Jason swore that you were a gift sent to him from heaven, and in a certain sense you were.

"You do this to me on purpose," he rasped against you.

"Do what?" You breathed, your lips chasing after his when he pulled back slightly, eyeing you with what you placed as lust.

So stupid, so naive.

His fingers were brushing against your skin, trailing down from the strap of your dress and over to your wings that fluttered at his touch. You let out a shaky breath when he slipped the strap of your dress off from your shoulders, letting the top of your dress drop down the curve of your breasts. Jason was instantly taking you in, admiring your bare body before him. You felt uneasy under his burning gaze, but before your arms could move up to cover your body or your wings could move to wrap around you, he was pulling you in for another deep kiss.

The both of you stumbled over to the bed, his hands pushing you back as your body landed upon your soft sheets that he ensured the maids laid out for you.

He wasted no time in brushing his nose against the nape of your neck, his lips brushing against the warm flesh. Your scent was arousing to him, like honey and rain. You were so oblivious to him, so oblivious to how much he craved you.

He took a moment, admiring your body laid out before him, your eyes staring back up at him with the same passion he held. The dress still hung loosely on your hips, and he was quick to rip it from your body. Jason's mouth practically drooled once he saw your bare cunt between your thighs.

"Beautiful, my love," he whispered, barely audible, but you heard it.

He knelt down, hands parting your thighs and breath hitting your slit. Any attempt at closing your legs was a fail when Jason kept his hands strong in place.

"Jason?" You questioned, voice like honey to his ears. "I-I don't know if we should do this."

He glanced up, meeting your eye and seeing the evident uncertainty held within them.

"Afraid somebody will catch us?" He teased, though you didn't return his smile. "Let them," he finished, before delving into your pussy.

You couldn't help the moan that slipped your mouth when his tongue flattened out against you, lapping at your juices. His nose nudged at your clit causing for you to gasp, and a single digit slipped into your cunt with ease. Jason pumped his fingers, craving the sounds of your moans and whimpers as you writhed, body shifting and fingers tugging roughly at his hair.

He couldn't have loved it more.

His lips attached to your clit, sucking and tugging at it gently that caused your back to arch, your mouth open in a silent moan. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but Jason tapped your thigh impatiently.

"Eyes on me, angel," he spoke into your pussy, the vibrations causing for another wave of pleasure.

"Jay-" you whimpered, and Jason felt the blood rush down into his pants.

Just as your climax was right at its peak, Jason pulled back with a mischievous smirk, crawling back to hover above you. The tears threatened to spill from your dark lashes, the coil in your stomach beginning to fade. You couldn't help but to buck your hips slightly.

Shrugging off his shirt, he tossed it randomly onto the floor and dove back to your lips, only this time, it was gentle. His hand combed through your hair, feeling it between his fingers. You would have thought it was all innocent and sweet if it weren't for the very prominent budge pressing against your upper thigh.

"Give me your hand," Jason demanded, and you listened. Your hand came up before his face and he grabbed it firmly within his own, brining it down to his pants.

He chuckled at the wide-eyed look you gave him. "Don't worry, Angel. You want to make me feel good, don't you?"

You nodded your head, and he took that as his sign to finally bring your hand down to his clothed bulge, watching you intently as your fingers travelled along his cock. He couldn't hold back the deep moan when you pressed down on him.

Jason wasn't a patient man. He was quick to strip himself of his pants and watch you admire his body. Big, muscled, and beyond anything you had seen before. You wondered what the others would say if they saw you right now - you would be kicked out of your home in Olympus, even possibly killed for your sins! Yet, you paid no mind as you let your hands wander Jason's body, craving to feel it against yours. Your cunt pulsed with need, and Jason knew this.

"Please, Jay," you begged, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

Jason watched you, silent, but then he tapped the side of your hip with his finger.

"Get on your hands and knees."

You did, your ass on display for his view and wings laying neatly over your body. You looked back at Jason as he took you in, his hand squeezing at the plush of your ass. Without another word, he was lining up behind you, cock pressed against you as he unintentionally bucked his hips, causing for the both of you to moan.

"It will hurt," he said, voice gruff yet full of determination. The tip of his cock pocked at your entrance, and you knew he wasn't lying. He was big.

He began to slip in, and you cried at the painful stretch. You were thankful that he had prepared you moments before. A tear slipped down the curve of your cheek the more Jason pushed in, and he hushed your cries when he bottomed out.

His hand laid against your back, following the arch and then caressing your soft wings. For a moment, you both sat still, adjusting to the new feeling of him inside you.

Jason hovered over your back, pressing his lips behind your ear before he began to move. It was small, short thrusts at first, but it soon turned quick and hard. The pain soon turned to pleasure, and your face laid pushed into the sheets as moans spilled out from your mouth.

"Fuck, you know you could get in so much trouble for this, right?" Jason grunted, landing a slap against your ass. You yelped, but he quickly eased the pain by rubbing his palm over the raw skin.

You tried to retort, but a particular hard thrust cut you off with a whine.

"I can't let anybody else have you... You're mine, Angel."

You knew he was right. With the many hickies littering your skin, the bruises that you were sure would show up by the morning between your thighs, you were Jason Todd's.

You breathed out, looking back at him once more with your teary eyes, although full of love. "I'm yours."

For the rest of the night, the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping on skin, broken moans, and heavy pants. When the time came that you had both grown sweaty and exhausted, Jason had laid beside you with an arm pulling you in close, your body being enveloped by him in warmth.

Jason hadn't seen you as much the past two days.

Though your behavior was normal between the two of you, everybody had just seemed to drag you away from him. First, it would be some of his servants and then the other angels, then eventually his sister was requesting your presence more often too.

It was also strange to him when Cass had insisted on speaking to him - tone blunt and firm.

So here he was, sitting upon his throne as she was stood before him, as well as his two brothers.

"What makes you think that they can enter my home?" Jason demanded, his gaze drawn to his sister in anger, but she remained stoic.

"Jason," his brother, Dick, spoke up. "We know about the girl."

Jason felt his heart rate quicken, though he didn't show it. He remained calm in his posture and only raised a brow.

Hera, or Cassandra, shook her head. "It was already a mistake coming to stay here, Jason, but it was an even bigger mistake to take her innocence."

Jason scoffed. "I haven't seen her for days. Your accusations are wrong," he spoke, but he felt his stomach drop when the three eyed him carefully, the large doors behind them swinging open to reveal your broken form.

You had two people on either side of you, dragging you into the throne room as you wept in their arms. When they tossed you onto the floor before him, he had the chance to properly take you in.

Your clothes were torn and dirty, practically already falling off your body and revealing yourself to cruel eyes. You had multiple cuts and bruises across your body, your wings a messy wreck, and just by looking at you Jason could tell that you were weak and vulnerable. It angered him.

"You dare do this in my home?" He growled, eyes burning with fury as he stood from his throne. "Release her!"

Dick shook his head. "We can't do that, Jay."

"Don't ever fucking call me that!" Jason attempted to walk to you, but his path was blocked. More people began to crowd the room, and the only thing Jason could hear was the horrified whispers and your loud sobs.

"She has broken one of the many laws, Jason. She's a traitor." Hera spoke, pointing to your frame. "She must be punished. If it weren't for your own selfish desires, nobody would be in this current situation."

The murmurs of the onlookers made his fury burn. How dare these people look at you - belittle you - in front of him?

"She should have her tongue cut out," A voice spoke from the crowd. "Hell, even rip her wings from her body!"

The last thing Jason heard was a loud cry and then crimson red blood seeping onto the floor. Gasps and screams filled his palace, and Jason turned to his siblings, the bloodied man below him nothing more than dead flesh.

"You leave my realm at once before I do the same to all of you," Jason began. "If you ever come back, I will rip your limbs from your body myself and feed you to Cerberus."

Jason swore he had never been so angry in his life.

His three siblings looked at him. Was it disappointment? Anger? He didn't care. Not now.

"She's not welcome back. If she does, I'll kill her myself," Cass spoke, before eyeing your form and walking out the door. His two brothers following behind.

Jason rushed to your side, and you didn't hesitate to throw your arms around him despite your pain, crying into his shoulder and his shirt soaking your warm tears.

It was then that Jason decided he would never let you out of his sight. You were his, and he would kill anybody who tried to take you from him.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Withered Cards | II

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.

Summary: Despite the many different problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.

Series Masterlist

The buzz of the flickering lamppost was almost tantalizing, the dimmed lights making all shadows look as though they were creeping closer from within the dark alleys of Gotham. Your feet were light and silent as you moved along the narrow path, wet from the rain that was beginning to sprinkle down. Broken glass crunched beneath your boots, and you cringed at the loud sound before taking a quick glimpse around. Nobody was here, besides the occasional drunk man stumbling across the street, too lost in his thoughts and large swigs to be paying attention.

The distant sound of sirens wailed throughout the night, and as the rain began to slightly pour down harder and soak your jacket, the cool breeze upon the wet fabric caused for you to shiver.

You almost wished that you could have been back at the lair.

Almost.

Your earpiece cackled to life, and a familiar voice spoke, "Well? Is he there yet!?" The joker groaned into your ear, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes and give a snarky comment.

Glancing out the dark alley you were currently hidden within, the shadows covering your form almost completely, you leant against the wall impatiently.

"No, he's not."

"Oh, fucken shit face!" He let out a loud agitated laugh. "Can't people ever do anything right?"

You glanced down at the wristwatch the Joker had insisted that you wore for his own reasoning, poorly looked after, but still useable. The glass of the watch was scratched and cracked in most places, and the leather strapping on your wrist was barely still attached.

3:43am.

You had been waiting thirteen minutes too long.

Your patience was already beginning to thin; due to the cold weather or the agitating voice speaking in your ear, you weren't sure.

Movement from the corner of your eye quickly caught your attention, and a man emerged from behind the flickering lamp post, his face shadowed as he bowed his head. You recognized him to be the one Joker had sent for you to meet, Dr. Grinvield. A white lab coat draped around his thin frame, gray hair thinning and glasses propped on the bridge of his nose. You noticed a thin scar trailing down his brow almost like a strike of lighting

You frowned, noticing a second man at his side. Tall and buff, with a gun held steadily at his side. You felt unease, and you hesitated to move out from the shadows to reveal yourself.

"Don't be shy, my little clown, go ahead," the Joker giggled into your ear, and you realized that you must have spoken aloud. "A big man holding a gun has never stopped you before now, has it?"

A pause, and when his voice came back, it was free of any humor.

"Just get the job done."

Inhaling a breath, you brushed off the nerves and stepped out from the shadows of the dark alley, your hand resting against your belt that gleamed the blade of your knife.

Upon hearing the gravel crunch beneath your feet, the two men turned quickly to face you, gun cocked in your direction.

Dr. Grinvield slapped the man, eyes wide in horror at the gun pointed toward you. "You fool! You kill her, then were both dead," he hissed, yellow teeth flashing from under his thin, pale lips.

By the time you were now stood in front of them, you took your time in scanning the two. Nothing threatening, to you, at least. Just two silly men trapped within in the Joker's deeds.

"I'd prefer if you came on time, next time," you spoke, eyeing the two. "And alone. The Joker never agreed to you have a little bodyguard."

The Jokers clear instructions played on repeat in your head; Meet Dr. Grinvield. Get the vial. Get out. No distractions, and no plan changing.

With a gruff sigh, Grinvield dug into the small of his pocketed lab coat, fishing out a tiny vial with a thick, dark liquid. What it was, however, you weren't sure. Nor did you care enough to ask.

You were aware the Joker had been planning something deadly, but you knew better than to ask. Perhaps another laughing gas or toxin.

He held it carefully within his palm, almost afraid of any immediate movement he made. He dropped it into your palm, gaze trailed on the sloshing liquid. He paused.

"Now, kid, you must remind the boss that this is only a prototype. It shouldn't be used until I've completely figured out the biochemical formulations and timely affect, but so far, it's what he's asked for."

You nodded, examining the small vial before slipping it into your boot securely.

"Tampering with it will ruin the formula," he continued. "But by the next few weeks, everything should hopefully be running on schedule. Just let the boss know-"

He was abruptly cut off by a nearby clang of metal, the sound echoing off the nearby walls.

You felt the hairs at the back of your neck stand, and you were quick to look around the dark deserted street. Nobody was in sight, but you did feel the lingering gaze of eyes watching somewhere nearby.

You frowned, taking one last glance at the two men before taking off into a quick sprint. You weren't in the mood to put up with any more people, and you most definitely were not in the mood to bump into Batman.

The familiar bat signal glowed brightly in the dark sky, glaring down at you like a taunting reminder. You could only hope that it wasn't him who so happened to stumble upon you just two seconds ago. Yet, something told you that you had yet to be completely alone.

You could hear the faint shouts of Dr. Grinvield cursing out to you for leaving him there, a pathetic whine as he practically dragged his 'friend' along with him.

Rain started to trickle down more until you were almost completely drenched, but despite the sounds of the rain dripping down, you could hear the growing steps of somebody behind you, and you felt your heart rate increase.

They were running.

Running toward you. And fast.

Picking up your speed, you refused to look back. You were panting and squinting from the water blurring your vision under your mask, still conscious of the chaser behind you. You quickly turned a corner and stopped, reaching for your knife hoping that you were a few seconds ahead of them. You clasped your knife tightly within your grasp, adjusting your grip when both the water and the sweat from your palms made your grip falter. You waited, waited for the attacker to come sprinting around the corner, but it never came.

It was like anticipating a jump scare in a movie; waiting for the moment the killer jumps out and attacks within mere seconds...

Perhaps you had lost them.

“Unfortunately, you might need to try a little harder to rid me, Sweets,” a voice called, and you internally groaned once you had realized that you had not in fact lost them, but instead let your guard down for a moment too long.

You turned to see a boy who couldn’t be much older than you by the looks of it, despite the black domino mask hiding his identity. He was clad in a yellow cape, red tunic and green pants. You had to stifle down the smile creeping up onto your face. The evident ‘R’ printed on his chest told you exactly who this was.

“Robin,” you greeted with a mocking bow. Though you had never met before, you had seen and heard countless times of how the Batman had trained a new Robin to take over from Nightwing. So far, you knew nothing of his weaknesses.

“I didn’t know you were waiting to see me. I feel so rude for leaving early,” you faked a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes.

Your heart was practically pounding in your chest. Surely if he was here, Batman would be lurking too, would he not?

Robin only shook his head, reaching for his bo-staff that was at his back. He twirled it in his grasp - experienced and practiced.

“Unfortunately, I'm not here to chat," Robin spoke, inching closer with a look that you couldn't quite place. Was it excitement? Nerves? Adrenaline?

You shrugged, readying your stance the longer the anticipation dragged. You just managed to catch the small smirk cornering on his lips.

It wouldn't be there for too long.

He was quick to move on his feet, swooping down and swinging his leg and knocking you off your balance. You grunted from the impact as your back clashed with the concrete floor, small pieces of smashed up glass, most likely from one of the drinkers, dug into your back and suit.

You raised your gun, kicking Robin off you and aimed, only for him to knock it out from your hand. You raised your other hand, clenched into a fist and punched. Hard. Kicking your knee up into the back of his knee, he doubled over off balance.

"Damn," you heard him groan, his hand moving away from his face to see the trail of blood trickling from his nose. "You know how to punch."

You went in for another one, only for his hand to stop yours mid swing, but you were quick to kick his stomach and push him down to the floor, his cheek pressed against the cold cement as you heard him groan in pain.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" You shot, your voice dripping in sarcasm the longer you had him pinned beneath you.

You just managed to catch sight of his jaw clenching at the comment, but you were quickly distracted once he managed to wrestle his way out from under the weight of your body, tossing a small ball-like object at your feet. A thick fog clouded your vision in mere seconds. You coughed as the smoke entered your lungs, your hand waving around to try clear an airway, but you gasped once a leg swung beneath you, knocking you off your feet and to land on the wet cement floor with a grunt.

You winced when your tailbone landed on the floor, but you ignored the pain. You needed to get this boy away somehow.

You looked over, seeing your gun just a few feet away, but Robin's hand wrapped around your ankle and dragged you toward him, your chin smacking hard against the floor. He was quick to hover above you just as you had done before, your arms held down by his own.

You grunted in an attempt to kick him off, but he held firm and frowned down upon you. "What's this?" He questioned, a certain tease to his voice that made your blood boil. His hand went to the left side of your face, and you flinched back as his fingers effortlessly removed your earpiece.

He turned it over in his hand, before hovering it over your face with a cocky smirk.

What a prick.

"Did I disturb an important chat?"

Baring your teeth, you flung your head forward into his, using that as the upper hand to kick him off your body and stand shakily onto your feet. You watched as he stumbled to get up, but quickly regained himself.

You let out a tired breath.

“Just give up,” he said, nodding his head toward you. “Seems like somebody needs a break, I can tell.”

“Do I?” You glared, before lunging once again, your arms grabbing around his torso to try getting him on his back again, but he held his stance firm. He knew it was coming.

His own arms wrapped around you and spun you around so that your back was to his chest, his arms pinning yours down at your sides. You twisted in his grip, but it only caused for the both of you to drop to the floor.

Then he laughed.

He laughed.

Your head spun so fast you swore it could’ve flown off, and you glared behind you as you watched Robin try to stifle the evident smirk across his face.

“Your laughing?” You grunted. "Is this a joke to you?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, I’m laughing at the fact that I have had you distracted this whole time," he cracked a smile before releasing you, giving a small bow as he began to walk back.

You frowned, confused. “What?”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, trouble! Nothing to worry your little head off, for now.” With a last glance, he grabbed his grappling hook and took off, leaving you confused and drenched.

Surely he couldn't have actually just taken off? There was absolutely no way he would have left you, a criminal, after a tiny fight? Surely, he would have tried to call the Bats, the police maybe, or even hold you hostage and torture questions out of you!

Your confusion only grew the longer you stood in your place, and it was once you had glanced down at the fallen earpiece on the ground that you remembered what you were here for.

You grabbed your gun and the dropped ear comm, taking one last glance over to the place you'd last seen him, and you ran.

@annabellelee

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

All my works are meant for 18+ due to adult themes as well as dark content. All stories will have warnings attached above.

𝒮𝒸𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂

𝒟𝒞

ℋ𝓊𝓃ℊℯ𝓇 𝒢𝒶𝓂ℯ𝓈

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓈

ℋ𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒫ℴ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Jealousy, Jealousy | Part 1

Parings: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Mentions/descriptions of sex, masturbation, swearing, manipulation, dub-con.

Summary: Coriolanus Snow is determined to make you his.

Part 2

The first time Coriolanus had seen you; it was during another one of the Covey's performances at The Hob.

He remembers that night vividly, having been stood at the back of the cramped barn and watching on as Lucy Gray sang one of her many songs with joy, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet with every step people took on the dance floor. The music of the band and the laughter that seemed to echo throughout the room caused for a sickly feeling in him. Despite telling himself that he deserved this night off away from his Peacekeeping job, all he really wished for in this moment was sleep and to be alone.

He debated leaving, his feet already shuffling closer to the door until his eyes were suddenly locked on yours.

It was quick and subtle, most likely to be forgotten in the next minute, but it was there. You had been smiling from ear to ear with your skirt waving around your legs as you danced, clapping along to the beat as you flowed your way around the crowd.

It was until the end of the song came that he realized he had been standing there watching you the whole time.

It was when Lucy Gray was tugging on your upper arm and leading you toward him that he finally allowed himself to move, barely managing a light smile when you and Lucy Gray stopped before him.

"I hate to be the one to disturb your thoughts, Coriolanus, but I knew you would've just loved to meet one of my dearest friends," Lucy Gray smiled, a mischievous gleam in her eyes that caught Coriolanus. When his eyes drifted back to you, he found that you were already smiling up at him, the same smile you had worn whilst twirling around the dance floor.

“I’ve heard lots about you, Coryo,” he didn’t fail to notice the mischief behind the tone of your voice, and upon hearing the nickname, a hot flush overcame him.

It was then that Coriolanus knew you would be his. Whether it was your decision or not.

He had made it his mission to chat to you throughout most of the night, drunk on the sound of your laughs and your gaze gleaming back up at him. So innocent, so stupid, and completely oblivious to the rush of blood going straight into Coryo's pants.

That night once he was back in his silly little cot, sure that the rest of the Peacekeepers were asleep, his hands were eagerly pushing down his pants from his waist, a sigh of relief escaping his parted lips as his hand grasped at his throbbing base.

You flashed in his thoughts. Your skin that was soft against his fingers, your breasts that rose and fell with every breath, your pretty mouth that he wished was sucking him in deeply, then your eyes.

He had to stifle a moan by burying his face into the plush of his pillow, brows squinted in concentration and mouth open in a silent 'o'.

With a few more silent pumps, he held in a gasp as he hit his climax, his spend hitting his sheets in a sticky mess.

The next time he had crossed you was when he was on duty in the merchant's section. He was stood beside a wall, gun held securely in his hands as his eyes observed his surroundings. And despite this, despite the loud chatter and occasional children screaming as they were chased by their friends, he still couldn’t get his mind to focus.

He wants to see you again. Needs to.

He wants to feel your presence, smell your scent once again, hear your soft voice.

It was as if the universe had heard his exact thoughts, because he felt his heart leap once he spotted you within the crowd, dirty dress and small bag at your side, observing the many small stalls around you.

He watched as you held up a piece of bread, offering the lady the few coins you had left over and give that darling smile of yours.

Oh, how he loved it.

He was just about to move from his position to get closer to you, until he halted in his tracks.

A man had strode up beside you, gleaming down at you with a wide smile that you gladly returned, and Coryo couldn’t do anything but watch as his lips pressed against yours, sweet and short, but full of love.

No.

He inhaled hard, teeth clenched and averted his gaze, his eyes travelling anywhere by back to you. You were his, and his only. How dare this man - this pathetic poor man - take you from him? How dare you do this to him.

His hold on his gun tightened, yet he kept his composure. Stood back in his original place, his eyes locked onto your interlocked hands with the man he now hated.

You were his, even if you knew it or not.

His thoughts were quickly snapped away when Sejanus nudged his arm, a concerned frown etched into his features.

“You ok, Coryo? You don’t look too good.”

His annoyance was growing. Did it look like he was ok? Could he not just back off him for once? With only a small nod, Coriolanus inhaled a sharp breath.

“I just need a minute. I saw something weird at the back, might check it out,” was all he said before he began to walk off, ignoring the confused look Sejanus gave him.

When Coryo made it to the back of the markets, he found that nobody was there. Only stacks of crates and old broken pieces of wood.

Ripping his helmet off, he ran a hand through his blonde hair and clenched his fists.

It had been a few minutes with him just basking in the silence. He needed this. He needed a break, but still, he didn’t open his mouth once he felt a presence beside him.

Your presence.

You didn’t say anything, obviously aware of the change in his demeanor, yet you stayed at his side. He had to hold back from pulling you in closer when he felt your fingers graze against his arm, and he opened his eyes to meet your own.

“Coryo? You ok?” You asked gently, almost like a whisper as if anybody could hear.

He couldn’t help but to let a small grin escape.

“Fine,” was all he said, watching as your fingers traced up and down his arm in rhythmic patterns.

So oblivious, yet so sweet.

You frowned slightly at his answer, unsure of his response.

“I saw you earlier, I was going to say hi but then you walked off and Sejanus said you seemed... off. I was just checking if everything was alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” he was quick to reassure once again, and he didn't mean the sharpness to his tone.

Your smile slowly lit up, and he swore that if you were to look hard enough, you would have seen how his face went flush, how his eyes flickered down to your lips and back to your eyes, yearning.

He couldn't help but to let the question slip. "Was that your boyfriend I saw over there?"

Your smile only grew, and as much as he loved the sight, he wasn't too pleased on as to why.

"Ryan? Yeah, we've been together for a few months now," you had said, looking over your shoulder to see if he was anywhere in sight. He wasn't.

Coryo nodded thoughtfully. "You looked happy."

Not as much as he could make you.

"Oh yes, I am," you smiled, and tugged on his arm. "Let me introduce you!"

He felt his heart pounding against his rib cage when you tugged on his hand, your hand fitting his perfectly.

Hesitantly, he pulled his arm back and out from your grasp.

"Maybe next time," he brushed you off. "I'm still on duty and I'm not feeling the best at the moment," he lied, hiding the fact that he hoped to just keep distance from the man.

Coryo felt a pang of guilt once your face changed from excitement to disappointment, and he resisted the urge to tug your hand back and tell you he'd come purely just for you.

Then the day came he had been dreading since the beginning. He had absolutely no desire nor intention of bumping into the man - but when Ryan had been pushed into Coriolanus' side at another busy night of the Hob, he couldn't have hated it more.

"You're Coriolanus, right? Y/N's told me heaps about you," Ryan said, his arm outstretching in order to give Coryo a handshake, although Coryo merely glanced down at his hanging hand which he awkwardly retrieved back.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Look, uh, mate... I'm glad Y/N has somebody else she can come to, but I can't help but think maybe it's a little... too much."

Coriolanus felt a spike of hatred flaring within his chest. Nothing would ever stop him from getting closer to you, even if it were to be your boyfriend.

He continued. "Just thought that maybe we could tone it down a bit? Y/N likes you, and I don't want to take that friendship from her," he finished.

If Coryo didn't hate this guy before, he definitely did now. He swore his blood would boil over if he was left alone with this guy any longer - maybe even get one of Dr Gauls terrifying mutts to get rid of him. But no, she would never approve, despite her sickened mind, and of course he'd never wish your precious eyes to lay on sight of his mutilated body.

He'd just have to do it himself.

It was him who had to tell you the tragic news, and he watched as your eyes welled in tears and your heart ached, your cries and please for your now ‘ex-boyfriend’ to come back to you were filled with emotion. Coriolanus had to resist the satisfied smile forming upon his lips as you clung to him for support, your face buried in the fabric of his uniform and soaking up your warm tears.

Even when you hiccuped and sobbed, he still saw you as beautiful. All his. He let his fingers weave through your hair and whispered reassuring words into your ear… your body was shaking within his grasp, and Corio couldn’t help but love how much smaller your body was compared to his.

Coryo finally had you, and he loved it.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Sweet Like Candy

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader.

Warning: MDNI, Oral (F receiving), fingering, swearing, masked Dick.

Summary: Nightwing might just think you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

"I didn't think you'd come," you breathed as Nightwing's lips traveled from the nape of your neck down to your collar bone, your head tilting to allow him more access to your skin that he practically devoured.

He pressed a few more open kisses to your flesh, leaving marks in his wake before he pulled back slightly, a dazed look to his gaze despite the mask.

"How could I miss this opportunity?" Just as quickly, he was back to kissing you. "You taste so good."

The cool night breeze caused for goosebumps to litter your skin, and sitting on a rooftop of Gotham city with Nightwing was not exactly ideal, but in the current moment you couldn't care.

Your breaths became more irregular, and gently Nightwing pushed you onto your back, hands beside your head as he sucked at your neck some more.

"Relax," he trailed, hands running along your body. You gasped as his hand squeezed at one of your breasts, before he began to go down your body.

You lifted your head, eyeing him curiously when he gave you a small smirk, his black mask staring back at you. His gloved hands worked at your pants effortlessly, pulling them off along with your panties and throwing them off to the side, forgotten.

When he made no movement, you attempted to close your legs from the outside breeze and his burning gaze, but his arms were quickly pushing at the plush of your thighs, keeping them apart.

He clicked his tongue. "Keep 'em open, pretty girl," he whispered, your bare pussy only mere inches from his face. "Let me have a taste."

You let out a moan when you felt his warm tongue lay flat against your cunt, sliding up and collecting all your juices onto his tongue. Your fingers racked through his hair harshly, and you swore you may have even pulled some of his hair out, but it didn't seem to bother him too much. He was lapping at your pussy eagerly, and you let out a curse when his lips latched onto your clit. He gave it a small suck.

"Oh my god," your back arched up, trying to keep you as close to him as possible, but he only let out a chuckle that vibrated throughout your body. You shivered from the vibrations of pleasure it sent.

"So sweet," he mumbled against you.

He was slurping at your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue fucking into you and swirling around. You already declared that this was better than what any man has ever given you. Your slick was coating his mouth and chin, though he pulled back and inhaled a large chunk of air.

"You taste fucking delicious," he breathed, staring your pussy down as his fingers came up to toy with your clit. You let out another moan and resisted the urge to close your legs.

He pinched and swirled at it teasingly, one of his fingers eventually dipping into you and curving upward, hitting your g-spot. His finger slid in and out, in and out. Then a second finger. In and out, in and out.

Your hands were desperately searching for anything to stable themselves against, since now you didn't have his hair to tug on. In the end, the only thing you could grasp onto was his left arm that was holding your leg down. Nightwing glanced up and gave another one of his charming smirks.

Although you and Nightwing have had these reoccurring 'meetups' many times before, you never asked the lingering question you wished to ask him when he was pleasuring you.

"Wha-" you were cut off by a strangled moan, and you tried again despite the coursing pleasure building in your lower stomach. "What's your name?"

You wanted to scream it, to moan it, you needed to have him.

His mask only shook back at you. "Nothing you need to know right now, my love," he delved down to suckle at your clit again, and the buildup was finally beginning to become too much for you to handle.

Your breaths were erratic, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Nightwing loved the sight, your body adorned and glowing in your sweat and your glistening pussy presented just for him. All him.

With a few more pumps of his fingers and a particularly harsh suck to your swollen clit, your orgasm washed over you in a massive wave. Your thighs shook and overstimulation was all you could feel when Nightwing was collecting your last few juices on his tongue, swallowing eagerly.

You were definitely right. Nightwing was the best pleasure anybody could've given you.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

Interlinked

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, major character death, blood, war.

Summary: Mattheo Riddle was hated by most, yet you saw more in him than what most could.

Mattheo Riddle knew that he wasn't the most approachable person out there, especially when more than half of the school referred to him as his father's son.

Besides his small group of close friends, anybody else was just another thorn in his side. He had come to learn that despite keeping his distance and reserved personality, he was still seen to be just like his father.

So of course, it was a shock to everybody when you had chosen to sit beside him in potions class away from your usual group of friends.

You hadn't said anything to him, merely sparing him a quick glance and small smile before you were placing your things down quietly onto the desk. He could see your friends in the corner of his eye gawking at you from across the room and silently waving you back over, one of them even going as far to call out to you, yet you paid them no mind and picked up your quill, scribbling down the notes written on the board before the professor continued on with the lesson.

He felt his gaze linger on you longer than he would've liked to admit, brows furrowed before he chose to let the silence thicken.

Mattheo knew then and there that this wouldn't be the last interaction he'd have with you.

It went on like this for a few more days. You coming into class and sitting directly beside him, showing him your bright smile that he desperately wished to hate despite the small warmth it gave him. At this point it became regular routine, and if you ever happened to be late for class Mattheo would ensure that your seat was kept empty.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you.

So once again when Mattheo caught himself staring at your bored expression in class, your head propped up onto the palm of your hand, he decided that for the first time it was time to break the silence.

"Not taking any notes today?" He couldn't help to hide the growing grin on his face when your head nearly snapped toward him, eyes wide as if you were checking that he was in fact talking to you.

You leant back further into your seat, shrugging as you turned to fully acknowledge him whilst also being discreet from the Professor as to not get caught.

"I'm just not really in the mood for it, I guess," you shrugged, giving him a small smile. "It's pretty basic stuff, anyways," you added.

He grinned once again, although this time he put no effort into hiding it. "Of course, one of the best students in class calls it 'basic.'"

He didn’t fail to notice the way your eyes lingered on his smile. He never smiled, really. Maybe the occasional half lipped smile to his few friends he had, but to you, it felt natural. Meaningful.

"It could be basic to you too, if you took notes and gave the lesson your full attention," you teased him, nodding to the board.

"Unfortunately, my attention is elsewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, and despite your attempt at hiding it, Mattheo noticed the obvious blush dusting your cheeks when he flashed you one last smile.

In truth, Mattheo wasn't awful at potions class at all. In fact, he found it to be one of his best subjects. He would never admit that to you, though. Not if it meant that you could continue to tease him about it.

The both of you quickly went silent when Professor Snape turned your way, eyeing mainly Mattheo for a second before he continued to pester poor Neville about what chapter to read from.

Small conversations would be thrown back and forth between the two of you, and Mattheo being himself, of course threw in many flirtatious comments, addicted to the way you'd attempt to change topic and hide the nervousness from him.

It didn't take long for him to realize he was craving for your attention every chance he could get. He found himself looking for you in the corridors and in the main hall when he happened to be walking with his friends, and it didn't fail to go unnoticed by them when his usual bored demeanor would instantly change when talking to you.

You would catch his attention with a bright smile and wave, before your friends were quickly pushing you away to giggle about the situation.

After practically begging you to help him study for the upcoming potions test, despite him not needing the help, he was insistent on getting to spend more time with you.

When you were both sat in the library with the few books you had brought over, Mattheo found himself watching as you concentrated hard on what you were explaining to him, with your brows furrowed and your eyes darting along each printed word on the page. Only it didn't last long when you suddenly closed the book and looked at him expectantly.

"You could at least pretend to be a little more interested, Riddle," you had teased when you discovered he hadn't been listening to you, earning a small chuckle from the boy sat across from you.

"Would it be a surprise to you that something else had taken my interest?" was all he said, watching you closely for a reaction. He caught the slight blush dusting your cheeks.

"You're funny, Riddle." You quickly turned away from him and picked up your book, opening to a random page to save you from the embarrassment of his words. You knew that he had you wrapped around his finger, and he loved it.

Christmas holidays had come, and of course the two of you were sad to go. The many bickering conversations and your smile would have to wait until next year.

"I'll send owls whenever I can, I better get some back, Riddle," you had said, throwing one of your jumpers into your bag as Mattheo sat watching from the common room couch.

He rolled his eyes at the comment, as if it were impossible to do so. "You'll be missing me that much, Princess?"

He caught you halting your movement, and you looked at him.

"Would it be a boost to your ego if I admitted I would miss you?"

He pretended to ponder, but he couldn't hide the grin on his face. "Not entirely sure, I guess were going to find out."

You rolled your eyes once more and zipped up your bag. "Then if it makes you feel better, I will miss you, Mattheo."

Nothing felt it had sunk in until you were stood on the platform to the train, Mattheo at your side and bags in hand. You would both be going to your homes, and the several months of friendship the two of you had built together would not make it easy for the next few to come.

Your father had insisted to pick you up himself, claiming he couldn't wait long enough for the train to arrive. Unfortunately, this would mean Mattheo would go by train alone.

So, when the both of you were saying your final goodbyes, of course it had surprised him to feel your lips press against the corner of his mouth.

You patted his cheek twice, to which he just silently gawked at you.

"See you soon, Theo," you smiled before turning away to find your father who was waiting somewhere nearby.

He watched you walk off, and without another thought he was turning on his heel and stepping on to the train.

Then he was gone.

Mattheo never sent a letter, and the months seemed to drag on the longer you waited. Every day you would run outside of your family home to check the mail, expecting, hoping, to see that he finally sent you a message. You couldn't deny the embarrassment every time you opened the mailbox to see it empty. Your hope was fading, but still, there was the smallest tinge of hope left deep in you.

You thought that maybe you were overthinking things too much. He did say he had plans for the holidays, after all. Your owl would wait by the window ready for you to clip another letter to her neck once again and fly off the moment you opened the window. No matter how many times you would send a letter, deep down you knew you wouldn't receive one back.

When school was finally about to start up again the coming week, you were beyond excited to see Mattheo again, despite the fact of his lack of letters. You were sure there was a reasonable explanation!

As he sat in one of the carriages in the train, his eyes zoned out of the window and watching the fog clouding the terrain, his memories flooded back in and for a moment he swore he felt a sharp sting on his forearm. Glancing down at the Dark Mark printed pure black, he remembers the exact moment his father had pressed the tip of his wand to his flesh and the searing pain that followed.

He felt as if the holidays had been the slowest they'd ever been. Being stuck in the same building as the Dark Lord feels like that, he concluded.

He was drawn away from his thoughts when he heard the carriage door slide open, and he wasn't surprised to see your face peeking in through the door with your usual smile, only it was brighter than he'd ever seen it.

Despite him not sending you letters; you were beyond happy to see him again.

Ignoring your excitement, you met his gaze and gestured to the seat across from him. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Truthfully, he wished for some alone time to dwell on his thoughts. He didn't need you or anybody else trying to strike up conversation with him, especially after he had been mostly ignoring your letters and leaving them stranded in piles upon his desk. The slight annoyance began to bubble in his chest, yet he gave a curt nod and continued to stare out the window.

You seemed to have caught onto his behavior, the awkwardness settling in once you closed the door behind you and watched in silence.

Your mind was swarming with questions you desperately wished to ask him - What did he do during the holidays? Why was he acting like this? Did he miss you?

You inhaled a breath before asking the question you had been craving to ask the most.

"You never sent me any letters over the holidays?" You regretted mentioning it the moment the words slipped your lips, and you bit the inside of your cheek when you heard a deep inhale come from Mattheo.

"Things get busy," was all he said, and the pang in your chest that followed caused for you to try think of anything else. He refused to look at you, and that only made the pang worsen.

"Oh, that's alright," you nodded, teeth pressing deeper into the skin of your bottom lip. "What did you do over your holidays?"

Mattheo shrugged, and you wished that he could just meet your eye the longer he stared blankly out the window.

"Nothing of much importance."

His bluntness to you confused you. Never had Mattheo attempted to be so short and bored with you, even when you were both at the awkward stage of just becoming friends. You took it as a sign to sit in silence the rest of the train ride back to Hogwarts, feigning it'll be back to normal once you're both settled into the regular routine again.

The longer the days passed at Hogwarts, the more Mattheo found himself hating your presence. You were always there - always following him like a lost puppy or trying to strike up conversation. He didn't want you here. Not at the moment. He couldn't.

You didn't fail to realize this either, firstly it being small things like the previous conversation on the train a few weeks ago. But then you found that Mattheo was physically avoiding you, changing seats to be on the opposite side of the class, leaving the dining hall whenever you attempted to sit with the rest of your friends. He never saved your seats anymore; even going as far as to make sure he was sat between other classmates to avoid you being near him.

You did miss him, but you also weren't one to push boundaries. Especially when it came to somebody you cared about as much as him.

You had tried to give him space, tried to give him time to come to you, but your own emotions were clouding, and you just wanted your old Mattheo. You had made sure to find Mattheo when he was alone, gently tugging on his arm and pleading for him to talk to you.

"Can't you just fuck off already? I don't need you here. You're a constant pain, how don't you see that?! I thought you would have gotten the hint ages ago!" He'd practically screamed in your face, and you had never felt more mortified than you did right now.

"Thats not what I'm trying to do at all, Theo-"

"You need to leave me the fuck alone, Y/N!"

He hated you. He hated you for making him feel this way. It was your fault. for making him care about anything in the first place, and it was your fault that he despised you for it. And most of all, he hated you for making him love you.

He could never forget the look on your face when he stood beside his father at the war, the tears seeming as if they were rivers along your dirty cheeks, cuts littering your body. Despite all that, in your pain seeing him, he still wondered how you had managed to stay beautiful even in these circumstances. Even with the blood from your wounds, you seemed like the brightest person here.

He so desperately wished to reach out a brush away the bloodied strands of hair away from your face, to apologies for everything. He couldn't stand the way your heartbroken gaze was practically burning into his soul.

Then the flash of green and a heavy thud echoed.

He hadn't even registered the war around him as he darted forward, tripping over his own legs as he dropped to his knees and cradled your body. He couldn't even hear his own wails and sobs over the screaming of his classmates.

He wished he hadn't looked down to the sight of you in his arms, because as soon as he did, he felt as if he had been stabbed in the chest. Your body was limp against him, your head lulled back to which he carefully readjusted his body to keep his arm supporting your neck. He could barely see with the tears cascading down his face and blurring his vision - some even dropping down onto your cheek and rolling off the slopes of your jaw. He quickly whipped it off with his thumb.

This couldn't be how you last remembered him, could it? He was pressing his forehead to your cold one the longer the seconds passed.

"You’re not leaving me, Princess, ok?" he was mumbling to you in your ear despite his sobbing. Deep down he knew you were gone, but the lingering hope that you'd flutter your eyes open and smile back up at him was haunting to him. He couldn't resist but to shake your shoulders in hopes that it would be true. "You need to get up now! It's dangerous," he cried longer, and in that moment, he couldn't care less what happened to him beyond that point, because the one thing he truly cared about was now gone.

He would never hear your voice again, your lips pressed against his, or your smile that he secretly wished to see every day. He wished that he could feel your hands running along his hair comfortingly as you whispered sweet nothing to him.

He would never be able to tell you that he did, in fact, read every single one of your letters. That he wished to write back. That he wished to see you every second of the day.

Your last memory of him would instead be of how he betrayed you. Left you, and fought against you in the war. Scared and broken because of him.

It was truly all gone, and he had never hated himself more in that moment.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.