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#I’m losing it (I never had it in the first place)
miserycanary · 1 day
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PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader 
synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)
tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst 
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The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you. 
With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul. 
Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.
Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.
Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten. 
As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue. 
“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you. 
Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you. 
Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way). 
But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring. 
Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine. 
And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints. 
Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you? 
He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?
You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open! 
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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kitskiis · 1 day
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I think the saddest part about secret life Joel is just how futile all of his actions are in that season. On a surface level i mean stuff like all of his more careful gameplay being cancelled out by a singular failed tnt trap but on a deeper level i specifically mean how that character contrasts with last life Joel. Joel is undoubtedly at his lowest point in the life series in Last Life. He goes down to red in session 2 and spends the majority of the rest of the season alone (and when he does have allies it’s only bc of a shared bloodlust). The red bloodlust completely takes over and this festers for nearly *8 sessions*. Not only that but the one time he is given a chance to restart and go back to yellow his old alliance member goes to red, leaving him alone again, and he is made boogeyman the next session. This, overall, has lasting consequences (he actually wanted to be fairly friendly at the beginning of LL, a stark contrast to how bloodthirsty he was at the beginning of DL or Lim L), and gained him a reputation that has never fully gone away. This is especially bad bc most people agree that LL was the most violent season (despite the lower kill counts in comparison to LimL) and was generally the worst and most traumatizing experience in the games for most people involved. Compare this to secret life, which everyone agrees was definitely the happiest season for Joel (or at least the most normal. His life is a tragedy no matter the season.) he has allies that (for the most part rip mumbo) stick with him until the end, he is friendlier with a larger group of people, and when he initially has to deal with the loss of some of them he has people who can ground him (bc as much as I adore the bad boys, grian was not qualified to do that). He was so hopeful that season, and was generally in a much healthier place mentally. And yet, despite how much he seemed to have grown, those 2 seasons ended so similarly for him it was almost comical. Joel engaged in a fight at the end, watched his ally get killed by scott, and is then forced into a 2v1 against Scott and another player that results in Scott taking his final life and him finishing 5th overall. I was describing both of those seasons here. After everything he did to grow, after all the improvements he had made, everything ended *exactly the same*
Making this about the bad boys for a second (because I’m me) they kinda suffer similar fates. Grian learned in the most tragic way possible that his allies were doomed to fail as long as he was with them no matter what, that this was not something that he could control by simply avoiding killing them himself. Even when he actively tries to save them (“let Tim do it he needs the time” “Joel you can kill me!”) he’ll still lose them in the end. I think this realization is also what made him stop trying to fight it, which resulted in him killing or almost killing his allies from previous seasons immediately afterwards (stabbing scar in the back and that one scene where grian kinda ominously jumps with a sword like he was about to crit and kill bigb after finding out he had 50 seconds left on his timer). It’s sorta like a way of telling the universe “fine. You win”
Similarly Jimmy. Well. I don’t think I need to explain that one. Even when he was given hope that things could be different, that he could break the curse, he died only a few minutes later. I still hold on to the narrative that the watchers only allowed that to happen to give Jimmy false hope that things can be different only to rip the rug out from under him and drive home the point that he is in a losing battle because by the time of secret life Jimmy was one of the only few people who genuinely still believed he had a chance. Obviously this is not something that can fully be a reality until he goes out first next season so if he doesn’t that’s a little awkward but just work with me here
TLDR; here is reason number 672 on why I believe the bad boys are the most doomed motherfuckers on this server and their alliance is a modern tragedy
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biasbuck · 1 day
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BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays
Happy Friday everyone! This is my first 911 ficrec post (I'm usually over here if ill-fated hunters and their angel husbands are your jam) but I've been DEEP in the Evan Buckley hyperfixation throughout April so come with me for what I've been reading!
This is a combination of Buddie and Bucktommy and buckeddietommy (aka buckeddie and meatballs, heh!)
26 April 2024
tell me about despair by @hattalove was the first fic I read, specifically because I wanted to get inside Eddie's head more as on first viewing I found him a little trickier to grasp...but yeah...that might just be because I am he and he am I. This fic was an wonderful way in to understanding his inner workings. His queer awakening and the associated traumas he has to work through were handled with such care, and the character voices were just gorgeous. "Eddie's not entirely sure he believes in getting help, at least not for himself. There's only so much healing to be had for a body torn apart by bullets, for a mind that's only half there, for a man who's been leaving pieces of himself behind all his life with nothing to take their place. Except, as it turns out, falling apart happens in increments, and healing does, too"
evan, elated and euphoric by @gayhoediaz 16500 words of bucktommy first time smut anyone?? "Buck likes it - not just being with Tommy, being with a man - that part is obvious, but he… likes that he likes it. He loves that he likes it. Truthfully, he doesn’t think that he has ever felt more at home in his own body than he does in this very moment." This is such a delightful exploration (through copious amounts of sizzling sex) in Buck feeling fully present and fully himself in his sexuality, and it's gloriously decadent as well as sweet and sexy as hell. I loved this characterisation of Tommy.
Both Bermuda and Golden (Lost but Doing Just Fine) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels all hail the threesome fics! In which the correct answer is always - Both? Both is good! This one is gloriously kinky and sexy and I love the 'guiding hand' aspect and how both Buck and Eddie allow themselves to be led. "It's not that Buck's not happy with Eddie. It's just that being with Tommy taught him things about himself, things he wants, and he doesn't quite know how to ask Eddie for those things. He shouldn't have underestimated how well Eddie knows him, or how willing Tommy is to lend a helping, instructional hand."
Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by @elvensorceress is a gorgeously written allegorical tale with PEAK Buddie and Christopher family vibes set between S4&5. "In the aftermath of the sniper attack, Buck has to keep going without his partner while sorting through the layers of everything they are to each other, while Eddie fights for his life and through all his internalized trauma and regret for everything they never managed to say. aka After nearly losing each other, Buck and Eddie find their way to each other and their family’s happily ever after." My absolute favourite thing about this fic is the thread with the bedtime story that Christopher and Buck have created together. Just beautiful.
five ways to fall in love with the man in the mirror by @buckttommy is a bucktommy fic but crucially a Buck absolutely revelling in the poetry of getting to know your own identity. It also crucially gives me Jay Hulme vibes (iykyk) "Buck meets God at a gay club. He finds him in an oil-slick puddle on a damp night, neon lights reflecting off the kaleidoscopic liquid in the parking lot. or; Evan Buckley falls in love with himself."
and i know how i feel by @middyblue is a very sweet Buck coming out to Bobby fic, written I believe between 7x04 and 7x05. ALL the Dad!Bobby feels. "Buck stares off over the hills of Los Angeles, hugging his knees. He half wants to take out his phone and start playing Nine Simone (it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me, and I’m feeling - ) and half can’t bear to drown out the thin peace of bird calls in the quiet blue of the morning. Footsteps scrape on gravel behind him and he turns, half-expecting another hiker, but it’s Bobby, carrying a coffee tray with two to-go cups and a paper bag."
Short and sweet fic:
For All Occasions by @storybelle FIREFAM FEELS! In which of course, as per tradition, Hen makes the 118 a cake. I neeeeeed Hen and Buck queer camaraderie show, I need it, and just like this!
Wedding Bell Blues by @klutzygirl - much needed supportive parents actually fic! "Margaret and Phillip meet their son's new boyfriend when they arrive in town for Maddie's wedding." it doesn't go how Buck would expect, in the best way.
PS - if you have any henren authors/fic recs I should check out PLEASE let me know! I'm new and I love them!
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barleyalive101 · 2 days
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Don’t you guys wonder how rhaenyra felt seeing alicent birth sons easily while her moth struggled, I’m not saying she wished to see alicent struggle but I’m saying she might have felt some sadness to her mother , some bitterness on her mother’s account seeing alicent having son after son healthily while her mother only had her ,seeing alicent doing the thing her mother couldn’t do.
I wonder if rhaenyra wished to be a boy , then she would have been enough, her father wouldn’t push for a son , her mother wouldn’t have died , everything would have been better ( Viserys would still want more kids as it’s risky only having one but he wouldn’t have been that insistent ,perhaps a break between the pregnancies )
Can you imagine having your best friend that knows how much you love your mother , how it saddens you she died trying to birth the “male heir” , how much it hurt losing her , how much it hurts even more that your father will have to marry , marry someone who’ll replace your mother, turning out to be the replacement, Be the someone who your dad will marry after you told her everything, turns out to be seeing your dad behind your back a few weeks/months after your mother’s death.
I know Viserys must marry but marrying Laena is different than alicent , cause rhaenyra doesn’t have a strong bond with Laena (show ) , it doesn’t feel personal like a break of trust. Having someone whom you cared about rise and take your mother’s place.
Alicent didn’t even have the decency to tell rhaenyra before the council even , alicent knew viserys choice , she made sure she was the choice by otto’s orders , Alicent at that moment didn’t treat rhaenyra like a friend , she was like everyone else.
Side note : Viserys also should have told rhaenyra beforehand , she’s his daughter not some lord to find out at the council. He wasn’t exactly a good dad to rhaenyra either. He wasn’t even there for her after he killed her mother , the first thing he says to her after her mother’s death is about the prophecy like really that’s what you are opening the conversation with ? , After not talking to her for soo long , then he comes in blaming daemon , “you weren’t there for your niece”, well where were you for your daughter ?.
One extra thing viserys never questioned why the fuck does the hand of the king ,Otto fucking Hightower has spies watching his daughter and brother? Spies he hasn’t ordered being put , why is he stalking the royal family, it ain’t his business unless viserys makes it his business, when was it the hands job to have spies without the king’s knowledge?
Back to the main topic ; So Alicent’s betrayal is waaay worse than rhaenyra’s supposed “betrayal” , Rhaenyra doesn’t owe alicent anything after the move alicent pulled , alicent betrayed first keep that in mind , before you say “well Otto forced her to do that” , how is rhaenyra supposed to know that , alicent didn’t say anything and afterwards we see alicent undermining rhaenyra by ordering the bard away ,reminding her of her position above her then after the fiasco with daemon , alicent comes in talks shit about the targaryen customs , ( after she’s married to one , hypocrite) basically dissing on the entire family tree , throws some heavy accusations at rhaenyra, barley letting rhaenyra talk and Rhaenyra didn’t lie to her she said daemon didn’t touch me ( touch in this context means sex not kiss cause even Otto says it as sex ) which is the truth, she didn’t lie , she just didn’t give her full details and why would she , alicent is no longer her friend, she’s her queen as rhaenyra was reminded beforehand.
Funny thing , Like a fool I honestly expected alicent knowing rhaenyra did it with Crispin , would prove that rhaenyra didn’t lie about daemon,that Otto was wrong but no alicent turned into a mega bitch, who constantly sought out to ruin rhaenyra’s peace , out of jealousy, even though Rhaenyra didn’t hurt her.
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dr. feelgood - chapter twelve
pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader
summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss
warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, oral sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, PTSD, choking, angst
word count: 3.7k
a/n: ask and you shall receive! I started doing my final proofing and got tired and decided to post so apologies for any typos, I'll fix them later lol. please enjoy this one and thanks for your patience!
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It took exactly three seconds for Bucky to come to his senses. The gentle click of the door shutting brought him back to reality and he realized he couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t pretend like his heart didn't skip a beat every time she came into the room. That every time she smiled at him, he completely lost his focus. She was all he thought about, day in and day out, even when he was avoiding her. He wanted a future with her. In fact, she was the first woman he'd ever met that he could see a future with. And he had messed it all up. 
What hit him suddenly, as she walked out of the house, was that if he let her go, he was just bringing on more trauma. He would never emotionally recover from losing her. He would be stuck with his PTSD night terrors and would always live life wondering what if things were different. One of the lessons he learned in combat is that life is short and precious, and it shouldn’t be wasted.
“I’m such an idiot,” he mumbled to himself. He flew out the front door, hoping he could still catch her before she took off. It was a monsoon outside, with water pouring down in buckets. He caught the headlights of her car flooding the driveway and he darted toward the vehicle without another thought. He didn’t waste time putting shoes on, running outside in just socks. While wet socks were one of his pet peeves in life, at this moment he didn’t care.
He knocked feverishly on her window before she could put the car in reverse. She was initially startled before she rolled down the window. 
“What are you-” before she could finish her question, his hand was around her jaw and his lips were caressing hers. This was the last thing she expected, but she didn’t stop him, wondering if this was the last time she’d feel his lips on hers. He was dripping cold rainwater all over her and the seat of her car but she didn’t even care. She leaned into him, savoring the taste of his gin-coated lips.
He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers, stealing the breath from her lips. “I’m not giving up on us,” was all he said. 
That gave her the confidence she needed. This time she took the lead, placing both hands around his jaw and pulling him closer to her, smiling in between every delicate kiss. 
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispered in between kisses and she reacted by holding him tighter and running her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us. I just wanted to protect you.”
She pulled away and nuzzled into his neck, “I know, I know Buck. It’s okay.” Their blissful moment was interrupted by the cheerful barking of a golden retriever. Bucky turned around to find Liberty running around in circles in the pouring down rain, sloshing through the mud. 
“Well shit,” he chuckled.
“You leave the front door open?” 
“Apparently,” he turned back to Y/N and gave her one more quick peck on the lips. “I better wrangle her up, Will you stay? I’ll meet you inside and we can talk?” 
She nodded and laughed while he ran off after Liberty, sliding shoeless in the mud as he attempted to usher the dog back inside. Y/N was already half soaked from Bucky’s drippage so she easily made the decision to cut the engine and run inside. She captured Liberty’s attention as she ran to the front door and the dog darted after her. Once Liberty had followed her inside, she knelt down to give the dog some attention and to keep her inside. Bucky ran inside and shut the front door behind him, sliding ever so slightly on the hardwood floor. Y/N smiled up at him as she stood up and he returned her grin. As if on cue, Liberty shook off the moisture from her fur, completely coating Y/N and Bucky in more rain water and mud. They both started cracking up, laughing at both their disheveled states as the dog simply walked off to her dog bed. 
Bucky stepped closer to her and placed his hands on her hips. 
“You know, this look is kind of working for me…” he said, narrowing the space between them.
“Oh yeah? You into the swamp monster look?” she bantered.
“More like queen of the swamp,” he said, inching closer to envelope her lips in his. Her arms effortlessly wrapped around his neck and he pulled her in even closer, so her body was flush against his. They were cold and wet and muddy, yet there was no place they’d rather be. Bucky couldn’t believe he almost let this amazing woman slip beneath his fingers. He was savoring everything about her now: her smell, her taste, her touch. But what surprised him the most was how at ease he finally felt. The past few weeks, he’d been so tense. He was worried about Y/N, he wasn’t sleeping, barely eating, and just getting by an hour at a time. Now it was like he could finally breathe again. He didn’t realize what he was missing until he had her back. And now he never wanted to let go.
She started to pull back for a breath, but he wouldn’t let her, verbally expressing his dismay with a hummed “uh-uh.” She smiled and he kept her close, kissing her again and then moving from her lips to her cheek to her neck.
“Bucky,” she giggled. He loved hearing that sound and it just encouraged him more. “We should wash the dog before she spreads more mud around the house.”
“I don’t care about that,” he replied.
“But it’s Steve’ house and-”
“I will deal with Steve’s house later. Right now, I’m not letting go of you.” He moved in close again, seeking the soft touch of her lips. And she had no working defense mechanisms. She sighed into his mouth, loving the feeling of being back together with the man she’d been longing for over the past few weeks. But the logical side of her won over in the end.
She pulled away and Bucky shifted his attention to her jaw, planting kisses up toward her ear. 
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal…” she offered.
“Mhm,” he replied, opting not to part from her skin.
“If we take a pause to wash up the dog, then we can pick this up later. In the shower.” Bucky froze considering his options. They’d never shared a shower together and it was something he’d always wanted to do but they’d never had the opportunity.
He let out a deep sigh into her neck, “You’re killing me doll.” She gently scratched the back of his neck and kissed his ear, signaling that their make out session was over for the time being. Bucky walked over toward Liberty and effortlessly picked her up in his strong arms. As he walked toward the bathroom he called out, “You better be helping me with this!” Y/N smiled to herself and eagerly ran after him.
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It took all four hands to wrestle Liberty into the tub and that was only the first step. It was fortunate that Bucky and I were already soaking wet from the rain because Liberty showered us in bathwater as she splashed around in the tub. It took us a minute to find a rhythm, with one of us rinsing while the other shampooed. After about thirty minutes, I pulled the drain plug and we pried Liberty out of the tub, wrapping her in a towel. Once she was mostly dried off, we gave her a bone which she happily curled up with in her dog bed. 
I leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a quick moment to catch my breath, which didn’t last very long. Bucky approached with a smirk on his face and, without a word, swept me up into his arms. 
“Bucky!” I called in surprise.
“Pretty girl,” he countered, awfully pleased with himself.
“What are you doing?” I protested, as he started ascending the staircase.
“We’re getting you cleaned up.” Bucky strode into what I assumed was Steve’s bedroom, and before I could argue, he opened the door to the master bathroom and I was speechless. It was spacious to the point where it could’ve passed for a health spa. There was a giant soaking tub next to a window, with tealight candles lined up on the windowsill. Accompanying the tub was an upholstered ottoman holding a tray of bath salts, luxury oils, scrubbing brushes, and any other things you might need during a soak. In the corner was a beautifully tiled walk-in shower, complete with a rain shower head and a built in ledge that could double as a bench. Along the wall was a long countertop, with two sinks placed in front of the giant framed mirror. Before I could take in anymore, Bucky sat me on the countertop next to the sink, like I was a child and he was tending to a scrape on my knee. He walked over to the closet and pulled out two, lush looking, sage green bath towels, and hung them on the silver towel rack that was placed by the entrance of the shower. 
“This is…” I said, looking around the room with wonder.
“I know. Steve takes his self care very seriously,” Bucky joked. He turned the handle in the shower and the water started flowing through onto the beautifully laid tiles, mimicking the sound of the rainforest. 
Bucky made his way back over to me and I wondered what his next move would be. I was happy to sit back and enjoy the ride of whatever he had in mind. His face hovered in front of mine, as he placed his hands on the counter, his thumbs so nearly grazing my thighs. I studied his face, waiting for him to lean in and kiss me again, so that we could pick up where we left off. Instead, he planted a chaste kiss on my cheek and exited my personal space. His right hand found its way to my thigh and he slowly slid it all the way down my leg, until he was gripping my ankle. He extended my leg and brought my foot up towards his mouth, using his teeth to nip the top of my sock and carefully pull it off my foot. He planted a sweet kiss on my big toe and then repeated the process with my other foot. 
Then he moved to my hands, removing the rings and bracelets I had on and placing them carefully in a small bowl on the counter. His slow, calculated movements were turning me on more than I thought they would. As much as I needed to have him, I wasn’t going to rush through this. He removed my earrings, giving one of my earlobes a playful nip, before he pulled off my blouse, planting kisses from my collarbone down to my navel. He came back up to my eye level, but his fingers were already working on the button of my jeans. 
“I might need your help with this one,” he said, as he pulled down my zipper. I leaned back onto the counter and lifted my hips, allowing Bucky to pull at the waistband and slide the jeans off my legs. I sat back upright while Bucky kissed his way up my legs, taking a little extra time when he reached my inner thighs. I could see the hunger in his eyes and I knew that this teasing must be killing him, but it would all be worth it. His mouth found my bra strap and took it in his teeth as he lifted up slowly and released it so it snapped back onto my skin. His hands worked their way up my love handles and met at the clasp of my bra. 
“Ah ah ah…” I chided, shaking my head before he could continue. He gave me a confused look and I merely pulled at the hem of his shirt, “You are fairly overdressed.” He let me pull the shirt up and over his head and I tossed it across the room. He leaned back in, continuing where I stopped him but I simply shook my head again. I pulled the drawstring of his sweatpants loose and tucked my fingers into the waistband and he effortlessly wiggled out of the material, leaving him stripped down to my level, clad only in his boxer briefs.
“Happy now?” he asked, with a tilt of his head.
“Almost,” I smiled mischievously. He slowly closed his eyes and sent me a toothless smile, knowing what I was getting at. When he opened his eyes back up they locked onto mine like a wolf stalking its prey. It sent a chill down my spine and all I wanted was to feel his hands on me again. He placed two thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and easily pulled them down, stepping out of them and closer towards me. 
“You have some catching up to do,” he growled.  I smiled as he kissed me, this time with urgency. His hands were behind my back unclasping my bra with ease and it fell to the floor. He started kissing my neck as his hands ventured south and rested on my hips. It didn’t take him long to pull at my thong, and I raised my right hip up to aid him, and he happily accepted the help. 
I felt a bit of a breeze and shivered briefly, as my nipples hardened slightly due to the cool air and Bucky’s fingertips. He noticed my momentary shudder and grinned into the kiss. 
“Why don’t I warm you up a little,” he suggested, sweetly kissing my jaw before shifting his attention to my pert nipples. He took each one carefully into his mouth, giving them just enough attention and then continued on his journey, eventually kneeling on the ground. I hadn’t realized that’s what he meant, but I wasn’t going to complain. He gently pulled on my legs as a signal for me to come closer which I did. He ran his tongue up my sopping wet pussy to my clit and ran circles around the sensitive bud. My head fell back instinctively, missing the feel of his touch. He dove right into my folds, exploring with his tongue and forcing labored breaths out of me. 
“Bucky…” I called, running my fingers through his hair in an attempt to pull him back towards me. He took that as encouragement and increased his efforts, shooting his eyes up to watch my reaction. I let out a soft moan and pulled on his hair harder, which he seemed to enjoy. 
“Bucky, stop,” I softly commanded. He immediately stopped and pulled back, looking up to see if everything was okay. “I can’t wait anymore. I need you inside of me.”
He acted quickly, standing and collecting me off the counter with ease, and carrying me into the immaculate shower. The minute we stepped under the water, his lips were back on mine and I tightened my grip on his neck, pulling him as close to me as possible. My legs were wrapped around his torso and his strong hands were cradling my lower back. 
“God, I missed you so much,” he whispered into my neck. 
“Show me,” I challenged, feeling bolder. Bucky reacted immediately, pressing me into the cold tiles of the shower. I let out an exhale and he took that as encouragement. He expertly shifted my position so that he had a better angle to my entrance, all while keeping me secure. And then he thrusted into me and I almost came on the spot. A moan escaped my lips and Bucky picked up his pace, grunting into my neck. 
“Fuck baby,” I let out, knowing I wouldn’t last much longer. 
“This one might be quick, but I’ll make it up to you.”
“I don’t care, you feel so good inside of me.” He gave me a quick love bite on my shoulder and then gently returned me to the ground.
“Turn around,” he commanded, caressing my hips with his fingertips. I placed my hands on the shower tiles and bent forward as he pulled my hips toward him.
“You know me too well,” I smiled.
“Of course I know how my girl likes it.” He didn’t give me a warning when he entered me and I let out a squeal of pleasure. He gave my ass a smack before clutching my hips tighter and increasing his rhythm.
“You’re so wet for me, pretty girl. I’ve missed your tight little cunt.” He thrust in deeply and paused, wrapping his hand around my front to play with my clit. 
“Ohhhhh…” He was pushing my every button and I was nearing my climax.
“Those noises are driving me wild…” He picked up his pace again and I let out another moan. “Now be a good girl and cum for me.” That was all it took to trigger my orgasm. My back arched and I leaned further into the tile to stabilize myself while Bucky’s hands kept his strong hold on me. It all seemed to happen so quickly, as I panted and tried to bring myself back down to earth. 
“Wow…” I breathed through my satisfied smile. 
“I second that.” He slowly retracted and took my hand. “C’mere.” He pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around my waist. I locked my arms around his neck and smiled up at him as he planted a few sweet kisses on my lips. 
“That was amazing,” he said, connecting his forehead to mine.
“I know, we’re pretty good at that.”
“And we keep getting better.”
“You think it’s because we’re in love now?” I suggested.
“It has to be that,” he said, kissing my nose. “Also, I didn’t pull out. I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment.”
“It’s okay, I’m on the pill so we should be fine.”
“I won’t do that without checking with you ever again.” 
I placed a hand on his cheek and said, “I said it’s fine.”
“I know, but I still should’ve asked your permission.”
“Well, I appreciate that. Now can we get clean and spend the rest of the night cuddling?”
“We can do whatever you would like my dear.”
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Once we finished up in the shower and dried off, Bucky lent me the T-shirt he packed and he put on a pair of sweatpants. We curled up together on the couch and turned on a rerun of Bar Rescue. 
I rested my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around me and kissed my temple.
“How are you feeling, pretty girl?”
I tilted my head so that I was looking at him, “Happy.”
“That’s what I love to hear.”
“All because of you,” I smiled.
“Ah, can I bring something up at the risk of ruining the moment.”
“I don’t think anything could ruin this night for me. Unless you break up with me.”
“Well I’m never doing that. But I do think we should talk about that night.” 
“Oh. Okay,” I shifted so that I was facing him, giving him my undivided attention. He collected my hands and held them tight in his.
“I know you said you pulled me out of the nightmare, but I don’t want to put you in that position again. It might not work next time. So I’m going to start up therapy again. It did help me a lot before and I only stopped going when I thought I had things under control. But I think it might be more of a lifelong thing.”
I nodded, “I think that’ll be really good for you.”
“It’s really hard for me to ask for help, but I do think it’ll make things better.”
“And I’m happy to go slow as we figure everything out. I want to make sure you feel comfortable with things.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to go slow. I’ve finally got you where I want you. But I can’t let that happen again.”
“We’ll ease back in. No sleepovers for a few weeks.”
“Well I’m not agreeing to that,” he smirked.
“What!?”
“I want to fall asleep next to you every night.”
“Yeah but-” I started to protest.
“I think we can start with staying at your house. It’s not my space and I don’t think I sleep as deeply because it's a different environment than I’m used to. Plus I’ve stayed over your place a handful of times and never had any issues.”
“Are you sure?’
“Positive,” he stated.
“Okay, we can start there and see how it goes.”
“I still want to have a back-up plan for you though. Maybe stash an air horn or something by the bed just in case. I’ll come up with something.”
I chuckled lightly, “I don’t think an air horn is going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Do you want to know what I did the first time?” 
“I am curious actually.” 
“First, I placed my hand on your cheek,” I announced as I demonstrated. “Then I slowly pulled you in closer,” He moved with my hand until his forehead was pressed against mine. “And then I did this,” I gently brushed my lips against his and he sat there stunned.
“Yeah, that’ll do it,” he commented with a small smile on his face.
“I thought if I fought back you would only push harder but that affection might confuse you.”
“And it worked.”
“It didn’t really confuse you, though. It sort of…calmed you. You curled into me and fell back asleep.”
 Bucky looked a little stunned as he considered this, “Smart. That was very quick thinking.”
“That’s why I’m in trauma.”
“I’ll give you that. But I still want some sort of back up plan in place.”
“Well I will let you think on that and come up with a plan because you probably know better than I do on this matter.”
“I can do that. So until we have a back up plan, no more sleepovers.”
“That’s fair.”
“Tonight I’ll let you sleep in Steve’s room with Liberty and I’ll take the guest bedroom.”
She wanted to protest, badly, because she couldn’t imagine leaving his vicinity. But she chose to respect his wishes. For now, she nuzzled into Bucky’s shoulder and entangled her legs with his, enjoying every second of being in his presence.
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whizzinpast · 2 days
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Autograph
Log 2600.04
Rating: General Audiences
Characters: Ivan (Alien Stage), Till (Alien Stage)
Pairing: Ivan/Till
Summary: Ivan talks to a fan. He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know his face, but he does know he has a strange inclination towards losing things.
Personally, he finds him very delightful.
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“—she saw it, I saw it, we all saw it. It looked like a segyein took a dump and rolled in it all across the platform. Really smeared it in. All the toilet paper got painted red.”
Ivan chuckled. Coincidentally, the marker that the artist was using seemed to be painted red as well, most likely as a result of the incident.
He raised his sugary drink and sipped from the straw. “I’m starting to notice a pattern.”
“That so?” The artist drawled, his head lowered at the sketchbook in his lap, his second one. The first one laid next to two cups of espresso, both emptied in a manner of minutes. It was a ratty thing, that book. All his books were. They preoccupied the artist’s attention, so direct eye contact was scarce. Ivan barely saw a glimpse of a light, blue-ish color in the shade of his hood. Teal, perhaps. It was really hard to tell.
He placed his drink down and leaned against the table. “You’re very careless with your belongings.”
“S’not my fault I got more important things to worry about.”
“Yes. Like your—“ An idea formed, and Ivan pulled a random sheet of paper out of the sketchbook. His companion guffawed, bony hands reaching for it, but to no avail. Now he could properly see all the shades of gray imbued into his skin, his eyes, his hair. If the hoodie he wore under his white, sleeveless jacket wasn’t maroon, Ivan wouldn’t have realized that his eyes are green. He tilted his head at his discovery with a pleased grin.
“Sheet music,” he flipped the page over, his gaze flying over the dreadful handwriting. “With the dullest bridge I’ve ever seen.”
“Shut up,” the artist snapped, his tone a little sharper than what he was used to hearing. Ivan was immediately addicted.
“Hm. The lyrics are off. Is this supposed to be a ballad?”
“Mind your fucking business.”
“Well, I’m proficient in ballads. If you need assistance—“
Finally, he snatched the paper out of his hands. Ivan let him.
“Your girl’s here,” he mumbled as he flipped the binder of his ancient sketchbook open and attached the ballad to a page with a crooked paper clip. So many drawings were attached in the same manner. It was really a shame he never showed off his work.
Ivan looked out at the street, and noticed his Guardian’s pristine white vehicle. He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed.
“So she is.” Rising from his chair, he called out to the bartender to pay for their drinks. It was customary, and the artist never protested.
When all was said and done, Ivan offered the man a picture perfect smile, snaggletooth included. He wished he could offer something better, but the expression was long engraved into his facial muscles, too deep to be scraped off. “Thank you for your company. I hope to see you again some time.”
He pivoted on his heel, white coattails fluttering, until—
A grip on his wrist. A yellowed sheet of paper in his face.
Ivan blinked in confusion, then relaxed. He took up the artist’s pencil and the sketchbook, holding it carefully with his palm so his signature won’t end up too shaky. “I’m starting to think you’re auctioning these behind my back.”
“No, I’m—“ The artist’s thin lips twitched. His fingers readjusted the white, vandalized scrap of a jacket worn over his hoodie. His most eccentric piece of clothing, Ivan concluded. “Careless. I got careless. One got caught in the segyein shitstains. Acrylic. Whatever.”
“You’re lucky I enjoy doing this.” Ivan finished off his autograph with a flourish, cherishing the sketchbook’s texture before he handed it off. “Cheer up, sir, and good luck with your ballad.”
The artist didn’t respond to that. He never did.
As he entered the vehicle, Ivan leaned against the darkened glass to see him stagger forward, full of hesitation, only to bump into a rushing passerby. It took him no less than a millisecond to raise his middle finger and spout obscenities.
Ivan felt the silliest giggle bubble out of his throat. What a funny man.
“You should report him.”
His head swiveled to look at his co-passenger. Sua’s empty eyes stared through the glass, glued to the hooded artist as he shuffled his sneakers in the street and pulled at the seams of his fingerless gloves. “He’s been stalking you for two weeks now.”
“I know,” Ivan grinned. “I’m flattered.”
Sua’s fine brow lowered to her eyelids, a rare wrinkle rising on her temple. “He still has a gun in his backpack.”
He did. He never appeared without it.
His presence was consistent at Ivan’s favorite café. In spite of the place he claimed for himself, his silhouette smeared the small establishment like a splatter of paint. Ivan found the sight strangely mesmerizing, and he continued to stare long after the scenery in the window changed.
Sighing, Ivan hooked his arms above his head, shifting to one side, then another. He hadn’t stretched in the last two hours he’d been sitting in that café. His side was stinging again.
“He’s not dangerous. Just lonely,” Ivan said with confidence as he pulled out a black marker out of his coat’s pocket. The red acrylic on its surface chipped a little. Red flakes stuck to his fingertips.
“I should really bribe him for a name one day.”
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bambeebirdie · 10 months
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This is for @bluepeachstudios ‘s Ghost in a Shell. It’s really good you should read it.
I looked at exactly one picture of Jupiter Jim and went “yeah this should be enough to draw him.” I will not be answering if it actually was
Have some bonus content under the cut!
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And sketches
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(I love any character who can say “I don’t want to go back to prison” it’s like the funniest thing to me)
#i don’t know what compelled me to hand write that text. it’s not very good#we just don’t do things the easy way here. that’s why I render with an app on my phone. i don’t believe in simplicity#i had a plan for a lot more full body shots but then I couldn’t find any good lair references so I decided to screw it#I’ve never drawn rise characters before. this is my first time drawing them and expressions wow#I’m not very good at style copying and my default is so much rounder than rise is so that was just a woof#i should say all text in these shit posts aren’t canon at all. you can figure out where they likely take place yes#but they never show up in story#just a little fyi incase anyone decides to check it out#the entire inspiration for this post was just watching 2003 and going#WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY DID THAT??#ghost causally dropping the most wild facts about his life has like endless shit post potential#yeah I went to space. stole a ship. went to jail. aided a fugitive. held a dictator at gunpoint#and folks that’s just one arc. go watch 2003#i debated making angst as it is likely more currently topical but I’m a shit poster at heart#chapter 29. how we feeling boys? I’m actually doing rather well. i think just the fact the build up is over and I’m so tired I no longer#have emtions I’m just pumped for the next chapter whoo!#i started to lose mojo very fast while doing this but I wanted to finish today so I did. i hope it’s not too obvious#yeah anyways go read ghost in a shell#go watch 2003#go read ghost in a shell#i’m gonna go to bed now#ghost in the shell#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2018#fan fiction recommendations#fan art of a fan fic#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#teenage mutant ninja turtles 2003
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fallowtail · 10 months
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i try not to let it get to me but the knowledge i am always going to be The Stupid One in every situation i’m in just…really, really sucks. sigh. oh well. i stay silly :3c
#cant even blame it on being audhd because everyone else i know who is#is smart and talented and their brains work alright 😭 i'm just stupid and incapable#i feel like i’m the only person out there who does not get to experience any of the benefits or joys of these things#for me it is nothing but brain damage and endless suffering with no brightside or intelligence or anything#but then everyone tells me i’m the bad guy because if there was a magic button that would make me not audhd i would click it immediately#like why am i wrong for not wanting to suffer#everyone else seems to have a special interest or a fixation and they can remember information about those things but i...dont. i can't. LO#i do not experience the autistic joy everyone else talks about. i dont have the adhd focusing on what you like superpowers or whatever#my autism made me barely pass highschool and i couldnt handle community college and i had to drop out and i can barely handle having#an entry level job that everyone patronizes me about#i'm barely verbal and i am losing my ability to function to brainfog and everyone around me treats me like i'm their little pet idiot#but wanting to change that about myself makes me evil and bad or something i guess#sorry to whine on tumblr like the good old days but twitter is sick of my shit LOL 😭#pmdd making me spiral worse than usual#one of those times where i'm realizing that if everyone else experiences these things totally different from me than maybe that was never#what was wrong with me in the first place lol. maybe i dont have an explanation and i'm back to being 10 15 19 24 sobbing wondering why im#like this. why i'm so stupid. not even in a self hating way in a legitimately proven way that i am functioning below average intelligence.#ok im done sorryyyyy god i forgot how good tumblr is to vent on#z
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purrrcrastination · 1 year
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tirednotflirting · 1 year
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night went from so good to the absolute worst so fucking fast last night and i have yet to rlly cry about it
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antimony-ore · 2 months
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OK one last gripe to get it out of my system, I hurt my foot somehow the day before my mom left and it’s been bothering me A LOT and the farm work isn’t helping
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months
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a darling and a virgin | f. odair
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masterlist
summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.
notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.
word count: 6.8k
Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.
For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.
Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.
For six whole months.
When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.
You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.
Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.
So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.
“Pretty cold out here.”
A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.
“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”
He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.
Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.
Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.
“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”
You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.
Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.
“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”
To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.
Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”
Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.
With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”
Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.
“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"
“Finnick.”
“He’s a fucking—”
“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”
He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.
You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.
His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.
The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”
You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.
Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.
“You’re a virgin?”
Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.
“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”
Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”
God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.
He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.
His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”
Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.
“Okay,” you said warily.
The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.
His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”
*************
You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.
Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.
After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.
You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.
Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—
“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.
But your gaze remained on the bed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”
Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.
“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”
He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”
“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”
He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”
A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.
Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.
The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.
“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”
The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.
You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.
Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.
“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.
You nodded.
“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”
His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.
“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.
He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.
“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”
Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.
Finnick Odair was kissing you.
His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.
This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.
A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.
“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”
He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”
Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.
“Is that okay?” he asked.
You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”
“Okay, good.”
Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.
He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.
And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.
Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.
Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.
When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.
A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.
It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.
After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.
One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.
Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.
He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.
His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”
“Yes, please,” you breathed.
As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.
Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.
“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.
But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.
“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”
His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.
Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.
Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”
You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”
And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.
There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.
Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.
Does it hurt?
You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.
He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.
His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.
Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.
Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.
He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.
Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.
Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.
Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be ­­crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.
He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.
His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.
Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”
He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.
Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.
His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.
While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.
Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”
Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.
You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.
And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.
Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.
People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.
His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.
“Finnick,” you moaned.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.
His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.
This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.
Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.
It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.
Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.
“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.
He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.
“Yes!” you cried out.
Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.
The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.
“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t describe even it.
Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”
Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.
As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.
Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"
Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.
His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.
He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.
After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.
Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.
Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.
“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.
His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.
You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”
You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.
He whispered, “Me too.”
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tiredsadpeach · 10 months
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Glad my mom was finally vulnerable with me
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cursingtoji · 10 months
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thinking about the first time toji gets to fuck you in your bedroom surrounded by stuffed animals. he knew you were a girly girl and he absolutely adored that about you, your always glossy lips, pink outfit and short skirts were what made him approach you at first. i’m
being older and making more money than you, toji had a better apartment, a spacious and nice located flat, so the first few encounters were always there until things started to get serious and he asked to go to your place tonight.
toji was far from surprised when you open the door and he was welcomed to a colourful living room and a sweet vanilla smell, he noticed a couple teddy bears by the couch and a few action figures next to the tv, but as soon as you started to make out on the couch you got up and took him by the hand to your bedroom.
“wow” he let it scape when he saw all your plushies, the big ones were in the floor, a bunch on the shelves and a few more in the nightstand, “sweetheart are you sure this is your room and not a 6 year old’s?” he teased and chuckled when you slapped his chest.
“i like them okay? most of it is from those claws machines so it’s not like i spent crazy money on it…”
“oh yeah? and you got all of those in the first try?” he poked your waist as you laid down in your bed.
“well…” no you didn’t “never mind, kiss me please” you pulled him by his shirt and he placed his knee on the bed before hovering you.
“i’m not gonna support this addiction of yours you know” he reached back and pulled his shirt off.
“shut up smoker” you giggled and proceeded to take your clothes off as well.
nights with toji usually escalated very quickly but that night he seemed more distracted and a bit uneasy. when he finally had you on your hands and knees his pace was not as fast as normal, in fact he seemed to be shifting a lot.
“toji? you okay?” you asked looking over your shoulder.
“we’re switching.”
“wha—“ before you could process he had already laid on his back and manhandled you onto his lap, “toji~” you whined.
“be a good girl and ride me” he slapped your ass as he helped you sit on his dick, and how could you deny when he bosses you around like that, “that way i don’t have to see those…” he murmured and slapped away some teddy bears in your nightstand. you stopped your movements and started to laugh.
“wait is that the reason?” you chuckled but one hard trust he gave you made you lose your balance and fall on his chest.
“there must be like a thousand eyes in this bedroom” he said looking around and massaging your waist to relieve his own tension.
“oh come on old man” you teased biting his lobe, “those thousand eyes watch me touch myself every time i think about you and you’re not around” that seemed to be enough to bring the big man back to his usual self. toji placed both his feet on the mattress and proceeded to fuck into you as you got up from chest to find a better position holding onto his flexed knees.
“and who gave you the right to touch my pussy huh?”
suddenly the stuffed animals were not a problem anymore.
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ghostfacd · 5 months
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I BET ON LOSING DOGS.
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
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PART TWO
summary: you were the epitome of sunshine, and coriolanus? he was like the storm, the rain, and the everything in between.
warnings: SPOILERS from the movie & book, SMUT (protected cause we wrap it before we tap it! p in v), losing virginities to each other, snow (cause he himself needs a warning), toxic relationship, coriolanus is only in it for himself, mentions of losing virginity, you practically giving everything to snow and getting zero in return
author’s note: erm this is kinda long idek where tf i was going with this, first time writing smut on this account LOL so it might be bad. also this isn’t proofread so there might be mistakes, just ignore! as always, reblogs and comments are so greatly appreciated, enjoy reading + kisses 💓
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You were the epitome of the sun itself, the sparkle, the light, and most importantly, the brightness. Despite being filthy rich, you were still that sweet sunshine Y/N everyone grown to love, the heir to the Cicero family.
Coriolanus Snow hated that about you. Not only were you everything he was not, but you lived such a lavish and easy lifestyle that it made him sick. Why was he stuck eating cabbage while you were off eating the finest thin slices of meat in the Capitol made by your chefs? It wasn’t fair, it just simply wasn’t.
“Well, Coryo!” Your sickeningly sweet voice fills his ears like a mantra.
He turns around, a smirk plays on his face. “My Y/N.”
Hearing him call you his made your heart flutter. You loop your arm through his, passing through the other academy students who were engrossed in their conversations
“Finally the star pupil.” Arachne Crane says, a glass of posca in her hand. “Lovely shirt you’ve got there. What are these cunning buttons? Tesserae?”
He looked at the shirt, shrugging. “Hm? Are they? Must’ve why they reminded me of the maid’s bathroom.”
You held his hands in yours. You knew of Coriolanus’s home life, how he wasn’t so lucky like you to have a gigantic home filled with lovable parents. His mom had died during childbirth, Coryo mentioning to you once how he was supposed to have a little sister. His father—died in the hands of rebels.
“Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous.” Felix suddenly spoke up, taking a bite of the food that was currently on his plate.
“Didn’t daddy teach you table manners?.” Festus sneered, watching the other boy in disgust.
“Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix snapped back
Coriolanus took a deep breath in, already feeling overwhelmed by his classmates arguing.
After the announcement of the assigning of mentor to tributes, you could tell Coriolanus was upset. Although he wouldn’t let anyone see, he was visibly anxious and quite frankly, annoyed.
“I mean, cmon, how could it that I got the worst district?” Coriolanus says, head in his hands. “He hates me. He really does.”
“Who hates you Coryo?”
“Dean Highbottom! Isn’t it obvious?” He cries out, hands flinging into the air. You slightly flinch back, never seeing your boyfriend in such state. “He hates me Y/N. He adores you.”
“He doesn’t adore me,” you say, feeling like you were stepping around eggshells talking to Coriolanus.
“He does!” Coriolanus screams in anger, getting up in a hurry.
“Wait, no Coryo, I’m sorry.”
But your words aren’t enough, they’ll never be for Coriolanus Snow, so he walks out without a second thought.
- - -
The next day, Coriolanus apologizes. It’s a breathy, quick 5 second apology, but you being so you—accepted it without a second thought.
You loved Coriolanus, so it didn’t matter how much he hurt you.
“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips.
You felt quite excited, you and your boyfriend hadn’t exactly gotten to that stage in your relationship, so thinking about sharing an intimate moment with him filled you with giddiness.
His tip had entered carefully through your folds, making you slightly wince as it bullied its way to your walls.
“Coryo..” you breathe out hazily, doe eyes coming to meet his. He sucked in his breath at the sight, never has he felt anything as good as this.
He tries so hard convincing himself he doesn’t love you. That this—it meant nothing to him. He was just here for your money, your possessions as the only daughter of Cryon and Hermione Cicero. But as he felt your nails claw its way into his back, he lets out a slip, a tiny whimper that makes your head foggy.
He spilled into the condom, pulling out with a hiss. Although you told him you were clean, and it was fine if he didn’t wear one, he simply couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t going to accidentally bring in a child into the world, having no intentions of taking care of anyone besides himself—maybe Tigris, and his Grandma’am.
“I love you,” you say quietly as you sat up, watching him discard the plastic into your trash bin.
“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” He says, putting his shirt on. It kinds of pains you at his total ignorance of the intimate words you just shared, but you nod your head.
“I could use some food,” is all you say, putting on your pajamas from earlier. “What’re hungry for Coryo? I’ll ask the chef.”
- - -
Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom had allowed all the mentors and their tributes roam the arena for about 15 minutes, letting them think of ways to win the game.
You were talking to Bobbin, a boy from District 7 whom you’ve had become closer with these past few days.
Suddenly, the loud scream of Felix catches your attention and before you knew it, loud bombs filled the air as tall lights fell to the ground near you.
“CORYO!” You scream, coughing loudly at the dust filling your lungs.
“Quick Y/N, we don’t have time!” Sejanus screams, grabbing ahold of your hand.
“But Coryo—”
Meanwhile, a tall pole had crushed Coriolanus’s arms.
Well, he thought, this was it.
This was how he was going to die. His girlfriend and best friend hand in hand as they ran out of the arena, the sickening feeling of betrayal filled his guts.
“What’re you doing?!” One of the tributes screamed at Lucy Gray, who was struggling to get the giant metal off Coriolanus’s arm. “Run while you can you idiot!”
But she doesn’t bother, only focusing on getting Coriolanus out. And she does, successfully, before all went black.
- - -
“Coryo? Oh Coryo!” You say, hugging him softly to ensure you weren’t hurting him.
You had felt so guilty after everything had happened. You should’ve never ran off with Sejanus, Coriolanus was your boyfriend, you should’ve saved him.
“Is Lucy Gray okay?” Is the first thing he croaks out, which makes your heart slightly crack.
“She’s—she’s okay Coryo.” You say, brushing a few blonde curls out of his eyes.
“And where were you?” He says, gaze slowly turning into anger. “I was going to die, Y/N.”
“I know! I was going to—”
He cut you off. “But you didn’t, now did you?”
His bitterness towards you makes you want to cry, tears already forming at your lash line.
“Oh now you’re crying?” It seemed like everything you did seemed of inconvenience to Coriolanus, but he opens his arms, letting you reside in them as you let out a few tears. “Always the crybaby, Y/N.” He says, hand holding your head as you buried your face into his chest.
- - -
Coriolanus Snow never believed in love. Not when he used to look at his mother and father when they were still alive, and not when he found himself a girlfriend, you.
Your relationship was merely another step stone towards success, Coriolanus viewed it. You were the heir of your family, you had countless amounts of money, and you were easily fooled by his advances. To Coriolanus, he had hit the jackpot, regardless of loving you or not.
So why did he feel so weird watching you interact with Sejanus? Sure, he considered the former district 2 boy his best friend, but it was only because Clemensia had been spending time at the hospital. The flu, Dr. Gaul described it; but Snow knew better. He was there when she had gotten bit by the snakes, and to be completely honest, if she hadn’t, he’d probably have dated her instead of you.
Clemensia Dovecote was way more smart, and he knew he wouldn’t fall inlove because they were both after the same thing. Power.
But with you, you were head over heels for Coriolanus. It almost made him sick, if it weren’t for your family name.
He clenched his jaw as he saw you throw your head back, hitting Sejanus’s shoulder as you hysterically laughed at something he had said.
What was so funny? Nothing was funny in the Capitol, not now. Maybe he was bitter, he should’ve never cheated in the games. It was stupid, and now he was getting the punishment of getting sent to 12 as a peacekeeper for 20 years.
Fuck, he really shouldn’t have cheated. And now he couldn’t even use his girlfriend’s family name as a way out.
He really should’ve known better. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t think you’d love him so much so that you begged your father to let you stay in 12 for a while to be with Coriolanus.
If there’s one thing about you—it’s that you’re a Daddy’s girl by heart, and of course, your father had once again served your request with a silver spoon. He hated that about you. He hated it. You got things too damn easily.
“Hi Coryo!” You say, making your way to him. Your beautiful sundress made him gulp, and he wanted nothing more but to snatch you away, pulling it off so he could get inside of you. But he couldn’t—he was in 12, much to his dismay.
“Y/N,” he says, placing his peacekeeper gun to the back. “Talking to the scums?”
“They’re just people from the district,” you say, frowning at his rudeness. “They’re nice, Coryo. Real nice, you’d like some of them.”
Coriolanus scoffs at that. How oblivious and stupid you were. Him, Coriolanus Snow, liking some of the district 12 citizens? What a fucking joke.
“Go along now Y/N, I’ll see you later.”
You nod, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before you left, leaving the other peacekeepers to whistle at Coriolanus who only responds with an eye roll.
When later eventually comes, he was packing away the Jabberjays in their metal cages, Sejanus being right next to him.
“I saw you earlier,” Coriolanus says nonchalantly, “talking to that woman in the window. What are you playing at Sejanus?”
Sejanus scoffs, shaking his head. “They’re gonna escape Corio. Leave the districts. And I’ll be helping them.”
Coriolanus sucks in a breath, “is Y/N all in this too?”
God, he hoped Sejanus said no. But then again, it’d give him an advantage if he had said yes.
“She is,” Sejanus says, continuing to tell Coriolanus of the plan.
Without Sejanus knowing, Coriolanus had tuned the jabberjay so it could record back the whole conversation. When Sejanus finally leaves, Coriolanus sneaks to where the train bringing the birds back to the Capitol stood, placing the jabberjay in it to send it to Dr. Gaul.
If anything, Sejanus was a blocking point in Coriolanus’s way, and getting rid of him and you were like killing two birds with one stone.
- - -
The next day came and you were peacefully talking to one of the younger girls in the district when you’re suddenly pulled away along with Sejanus.
“Hey! What the hell!” You scream, thrashing in the unfamiliar peacekeeper’s hold. “Get off me!”
You and Sejanus struggle, and Coriolanus almost wants to step in and get you out of his fellow peacekeeper’s arms. Almost.
“Coryo! Tell them they’ve been mistaken!” You cry out, locking eyes with your so called lover.
“You two have been charged with treason towards the Capitol.” The peacekeeper says, his cold gaze and strong hold on you makes you let out a whimper.
“Treason?” You say, “there has to be a mistake! Call my father! Call my father!”
“I’m afraid your father can’t get you out of this one, Miss. Cicero.”
He drags you and Sejanus up the main stage of the district. “Everyone! Pay attention! This is what will happen if you are disloyal to the Capitol!”
Another peacekeeper points a gun behind Sejanus’s back as the peacekeeper who was holding you earlier pokes your back with the cold metal. You felt terrified gazes of the citizens of District 12, including Lucy Gray, stare at you.
“CORYO! TELL THEM!” You scream, begging with your eyes. “Coryo, please. Please.”
But Coriolanus Snow stands still in his spot, not budging a thing.
You thought he had loved you—or at least, cared for you. You gave him shelter when he was at his worst, you gave him your virginity, you held him when he cried about how unfair Dean Highbottom was, you let him into your home, and you always were there for him. You practically did everything for Coriolanus Snow. And what did you get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Your Coryo won’t save you.” The peacekeeper snarls, before firing the gun.
Two gunshots go off, and the body of yours and Sejanus fall to the ground in an instant.
Coriolanus Snow almost wants to barf, his eyes closed for a minute before reopening them again.
Had it really been worth it? Ratting you and Sejanus out so he could get home to the Capitol faster?
He thinks so when your family and the Plinths give him their fortune as a thank you for being such a good boyfriend and friend towards their son and daughter.
If only they knew, though. But Coriolanus would never let that happen, because no matter what, Snow lands on top.
And this? It was just the beginning.
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nightprompts · 1 year
Text
&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
( this is basically just a very self indulgent list of various fluff, angst, and suggestive themed dialogue sentence starters. )
❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜
❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜
❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜
❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜
❛ you’re not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜
❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 
❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜
❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜
❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜
❛ come back to bed. ❜
❛ you look good like this. ❜
❛ working together again, it’s just like old times. ❜
❛ how is it you always know what i need, huh? ❜
❛ you’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜ 
❛ i can’t imagine losing someone like that. i’m sorry. ❜
❛ you know you can always talk to me. ❜
❛ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. ❜
❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜
❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜
❛ may i have this dance? ❜ 
❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break. ❜
❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜
❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜
❛ we can't keep doing this. ❜ 
❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜
❛ just relax and let me take care of you. ❜
❛ thought you’d be lighter without all that blood. ❜
❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. ❜
❛ everything looks so beautiful from up here. ❜
❛ you treat all your ladies like this? ❜
❛ well? how do i look? ❜
❛ can’t sleep? ❜
❛ do you mind if i smoke? ❜
❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜
❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜
❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜
❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜
❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜
❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜
❛ i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you. ❜
❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜
❛ just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new. ❜
❛ i’d say we make a pretty good team. ❜
❛ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❜
❛ i'm here for business — not pleasure. ❜
❛ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. ❜
❛ you'd look better down on your knees. ❜
❛ fine, keep acting like you hate me. ❜
❛ kiss me again. ❜
❛ are you asking me out on a date? ❜
❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜
❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜
❛ well, i do feel better now that you're here. ❜
❛ i'm not drunk enough for this. ❜ 
❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜
❛ i was wrong about you. ❜ 
❛ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. ❜
❛ you gonna be a good girl / boy for me? ❜
❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜
❛ books mean more to me than people anyway. ❜
❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜
❛ how about a kiss goodnight? ❜
❛ i don’t have time for distractions right now. ❜
❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ 
❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜
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