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kasagia · 6 months

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Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

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obssesseddepressedsleeplessmess · 4 months

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hermitcraft season x

everything keeps going wrong and its hilarious

day 1:

welsknight's power went out five minutes before they started

keralis couldn't join and no one noticed for a bit

xisuma fell in lava and almost died in the first five minutes

mumbo had to do the introduction (and he claims he know the least of what is going on)

gem's game was glitching with falling blocks

ren set up the coop caving only to be the only one to die

impulse (skizz's best friend) killed skizzleman as the first kill (not death) in demise

after that:

grian is obsessed with fishing to get a mending book and can't get one in over 4000 attempts when impulse got one in under 20

mumbo dying to phantoms rather than the complicated trap set up for when he came back from afk

iskall's collaborative base

scar seeing the trap cub set and activating it while laughing about how he wouldn't fall for it (and losing all his resources)

stress dying to a trap made for iskall

Bonus: not really wrong but everyone taking things slow except for doc who had a villager trading hall day 1 and then took off to go be doc and break Minecraft

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft season x #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #welsknight #keralis #xisuma #geminitay #renthedog #impulsesv #skizzleman #tangotek #iskall85 #docm77

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

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wait though because seriously. the boys share everything with each other.

(smut, be warned. this turned way too long thank @waves-against-a-cliff for this)

they share bedrolls and tents when they're stuck in the freezing cold during a mission.

they share canteens, mre's, cigarettes. (price is smoke snob so simon always carries a cigar or two for him)

they'll share a room in base when simon's not sleeping again due to his ptsd, or johnny's gone and gotten injured again. john slips into kyle's room sometimes just to remind himself that he didn't lose kyle when he fell out of the helo.

they share showers, too. sometimes in a safe house there's not enough hot water to go around 4 individuals, and other times they just need a hand that isn't their own wrapped around their neglected cocks. (simon mewls like a kitten when john fists him from behind, beard scraping on the junction of his shoulder as john gives him a peck or two on the neck)

they go on leave and stay together, too. simon and john are the ones who keep a home-- johnny and kyle sleep at whoever's they please; essentially living there as well.

then john gets a little bird, a sweet (much younger, simon notices) thing who's far too gentle and soft for gruff men like themselves, just a doting, kind girlfriend.

they share you too.

it hadn't really been hard to nudge you their direction, either. john's only ever sung praise of his crew, his boys.

johnny and kyle are the pretty ones-- it's completely normal that your eyes wandered from john to them when they visited. johnny's hand lingered a little too long on the small of your back when he needed to get past, the touch scalding even through your shirt, and kyle's gentle demeanor and warm smiles toward you never failed to get your heart racing. they were easily game.

simon had been a bit more of a challenge.

he'd been jealous of you, at first. of course someone full of life such as yourself would capture his captain's heart. a bright, burning star in comparison to him, a stellar remnant. he'd seethed when johnny had taken a picture of the both you and john asleep on the couch, him partially lying atop of you with his head firmly on your chest. simon can't even have light weight on him as he sleeps, lest he dreams that he's underground again, dirt clogging his mouth and nose as he claws himself back to the world of the living.

but john knows him better than he knows himself, and he'd nipped that issue in the bud-- slinked into simon's room in base and reassured him with a hand curled under his jaw that there is enough of him for everyone, and now you, too.

"what's mine is yours, simon. and that little morsel back home is mine."

john only brought it up the once, and how eager you'd been. so receptive to the idea of treating his boys the way they deserve. they haven't had much good in their life, he'd purred, but you'll be good, won't you?

yes, you'd jerkily nodded, so good, i swear.

they had you watch them first, just to not overwhelm you. meager handjobs and suggestive kisses to flushed skin. whispered promises of what's to come, playful nips to the ear. it went well enough, john observing how you rubbed your thighs together whenever one of them finally peaked over their own stomach.

then you interrupted their session, one day, asking if you could try to give one of them a hand (ha). the last time he came that hard, kyle had touched him under the table in a restaurant, in front of decent company.

he'd even spurted cum all the way up to his collarbone.

it upgraded quickly after that, any self doubt all but gone under their touch. fingers sunk and curled inside your throbbing cunt, squelching with each movement. john sat behind you, keeping you somewhat upright so you could just focus on their attention. johnny's warm mouth laved at your stiff nipple and kyle swallowed all of your moans.

johnny went first, rambunctious man that he was. he flipped you onto your knees and hilted in one smooth stroke. john stood by your side the entire time, his hands brushing away the damp hair that stuck to your forehead. "doin' so good, love." johnny's grip around your waist had been the only thing that kept you from sprawling forward with each heavy thrust.

kyle had gone next, and what you'd thought would've been a sensual missionary ended up being a devastating missionary press. he pushed your knees to your chest, feeling the air rush out of your lungs. when he bottomed out, john had hissed above you. "made a proper mess there, johnny. there's not enough room for kyle when she's stuffed full of you."

"i'm not sorry, sir," was his cheeky reply.

johnny's spend had been forcibly pushed out when kyle pushed in.

his length was in your throat as he took you and he gave you no respite, just a constant drag of his cock along your sensitive nerves. your mind was scrambled, unable to form a single coherent thought. his fingers dug into the soft meat of your thighs when he came.

simon chose to be last, because you'd be warmed up and slick enough to take him without much discomfort.

wrong.

even with him on his back, you choosing how fast or slow the coupling went, it'd stung. it was an invasion, a searing ache in between your legs, inside your core once you sat flush on his thighs.

simon's hands tightened around your hips, and grunted. "alrigh' getter off. she's clearly in pain--"

"no! i'm just sensitive, is all. i just need a little time to get accustomed."

his face showed disbelief, brows furrowed and lips slightly pursed but john was quick to assuage the situation. "you heard her, simon. she can take it." john turned to you and cradled your face in his hands. "can't you, love?"

'course you could. you promised to be good, after all.

kyle came from behind and wrapped his own hands around your waist, canting them forward, simon's length going so much deeper, and a sharp breath escaped you.

"there ya go, doll. much better now, yeah?"

you rolled your hips slowly, testing the waters. underneath the pulse of pain, was pleasure, crawling up your spine, dripping slick down the base of simon's cock.

finally.

leaning forward, you placed your palms on his sweat-slick barrel chest and began to ride him with fervor. john threaded his fingers through simon's hair and tugged harshly, a ragged moan falling from his lips. it hadn't been much longer after, which you are grateful for because you were about to pray to the gods that your hips hold out with how fiercely they burned with effort.

john had kissed your temple in the end, praising how well you did and to not worry about him, this was more than enough.

aftercare had been a long, drawn out process that had your eyes heavy with sleep, and chest warm with affection.

they left you asleep, exhausted, curled up in john's oversized bed and simon was the one to drag them all into the guest bedroom because john hadn't come once tonight.

when he tried to protest, kyle huffed and cut him off with a wave of his hand. "we take care of each other, captain, and now it's your turn."

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod smut #task force 141 #poly!141

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cultrise · 8 months

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OVERSTIMULATION. SAL FISHER

꒷꒦ CONTENTS NSFW, mutual overstimulation, praise, p in v, clit rubbing ᵎᵎ wc 906

꒷꒦ NOTES i wrote this while half-asleep so i might edit more through it later 😭

ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !

your boyfriend had been stressed for a while. his nightmares have gotten more frequent and he would often wake up in the middle of the night, sweating and hot all over.

you often spent the night with him because of it, ignoring any other responsibility just to be there and soothe him when he needed it. sal felt extremely guilty for it, apologising endlessly even if he didn’t need to. but in all honesty, no one could calm him the way you could, when he woke up panting and panicking and he got pulled into your arms, head nestled under your chin as you stroked his hair “it’s alright, sally. you’re home. you’re with me. everything’s alright”

college admissions were also coming up, which put even more pressure on sal, which was stupid considering how smart he actually was and how everybody around you was convinced he’d absolutely nail it. but this poor boy was stressed beyond repair, losing sleep every night and breaking into a sweat from the smallest task.. so it was no surprise when he came to you for help.

you had already told your boyfriend countless of times that you were going to be there for him and help him out with whatever he needed, just like you did back when you were teens. however, since becoming a couple, helping sal destress transitioned to…. other ways.

you whine loudly into the pillow, face almost buried into your pillow as sal pounded into you like a desperate man, trying to release his tension. his usually pale face was flushed pink, sweat making his blue bangs cling to his forehead as he let out staggered breaths and choked moans “fu..uck, i’m so.. so sorry, baby. you feel.. ah!.. too good”

his strokes were messy, his pace was uneven, yet somehow, even in his desperate attempts to get off he was still so attentive to your body, one thumb on your clit as he matched the unsteady pace of his hips with the one of his finger. and god, did you thank yourself for properly teaching this man how to please you because your knuckles had turned white from holding the sheets balled up into your fist. he was just that good.

the covers pooled under you as sal announced his 4th orgasm, making you whine. there was something truly paranormal about the way his stamina changed when he was stressed, he could go at it for hours, until he got every worry out. and oh, was he getting them out. you were both whiny messes, unable to speak other than utter each other’s names breathlessly while you moved your hips to meet his, desperate for more friction.

occasionally, sal would slow down for a second, shaky lips to your ear as he asked you “..hah.. you okay?.. wan’ stop?” and you always shook your head impatiently, asking him to “just move already!” and as his hands grip your hips, he complies to your request.

you were past counting how many orgasms you had by then, body limp and sweaty as your pussy dripped. and sal? sal kept going. if you weren’t so fucked out you would’ve been staring at him with your eyes wide, wondering if this really was the same lanky, shy and nerdy sal you fell in love with back in high school. so you grab his cheek gently, smoothing a thumb over his bottom lip (or what was left of it, anyway).

“that stressed? sure you don’t want to talk?” and sal whines, shaking his head rapidly before begs start stringing from his mouth “no.. nonono… after.. i, shit!.. one more and…. d..one” sal closed his eyes shut tight, tears forming into his eyes as the last wave of pleasure came over him. you had never seen him so fucked out, so needy.. especially by his own hand.

“oh..oH, fuck, baby!” sally whines as you press kisses to his temple, legs squeezing around his waist as you moaned into his heated skin “come on, pretty boy. know you can do it” that nickname. pretty boy. it always had sal’s brain spinning and he captures your lips, cumming loads into you before he drops limp on top, face nuzzled between your breasts.

your hand flies to his hair, gently caressing it as he brings you into a thankful kiss, body still coming down from the original high “ ‘m sorry” sal speaks up, making you smile “did i hurt you? in any way?” always such a gentleman. even after he has both of your bodies shake uncontrollably and consecutively, he’s still the one to ask if you enjoy it. and how can your response be negative?

“no, sally. it was perfect” you sigh as you kiss him, letting him finally relax and fall on top of you, in your embrace “made me feel so good” you coo as his blush deepens, not wanting to think of how filthy he was. to his core, no matter what sal fisher went through, he was always a gentleman, a soft hearted boy that was so selfless it actually hurt.

“think we deserve a nap now” you hum as you tie up his pretty hair into a low bun “think? i’m spent. this calls for a 5 hour nap” sal groans before getting a towel and jumping back into bed “come on, let me clean you up. can’t have my pretty girlfriend all dirty”

#✦— kinktober.#𐙚 — pages.#𐙚— dreamscape.#sal fisher #sally face #sal #sally face x reader #sal x reader #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher smut #sal fisher x reader smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #kinktober '23

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peachesofteal · 8 months

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Black Sun

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon Riley/female reader 5.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Dark and twisty. Explicit sex, dubious consent, forced breeding/pregnancy kink, praise kink, size difference, creampie. Simon is insane about you. Panty sniffing/stealing. Obsessive behavior. Possessive Simon Riley. Alcohol. Reader is prescribed/taking muscle relaxers. Toxic but I think it's sweet. Angst, comfort, emotional hurt/comfort. Tags are for your health, not mine. Simon never wanted a divorce.

Simon does not consider himself a common criminal.

A war criminal, perhaps. The things he’s done for the 141 would put him behind bar in over fifty countries, and on death row in at least eight. The things he’s seen alone make him eligible for life in a padded room, and that’s if you don’t count the things that have happened to him.

But he’s never stooped to petty crime like this before. Before this mess. Before you asked for a divorce, insisted he move out, demanded time apart.

There’s a first time for everything, he thinks. First time for a lot of things, actually. The first time he actively tried to avoid the divorce paperwork, first time he let his obsession take him this far, first time he indulged in his darkest fantasies, things he wouldn’t even dare whisper about to Price-

The door welcomes him like it always does, squeak gone from the hinges, greased out by his hands in the middle of the night last week, swinging wide so he can silently step across the threshold… into his house. Into yours.

Riley whines in greeting, lowering himself into a play bow, and Simon kneels to pet him, rubbing his between the ears and under the chin just how he likes, before instructing him back to his bed, to keep watch. He’d maul another man who tried to step foot in here, per his training, but his dad- his dad is okay. His dad is allowed.

It’s not that he’s too far gone to recognize the complete dismantlement of your boundaries, it’s that he doesn’t care. The chilling fear of losing you has seeped deep into his bones, fostering the growth of a plan that he knows is not rational, or right.

He knows what he is doing is wrong, but he cannot stop himself.

You are his. His wife. His life, his person, his reason for it all. You’re the sun and the moon and the stars and everything that makes this miserable fucking existence worth living.

He’ll do anything to keep you.

Anything.

So, it doesn’t feel wrong when he stands in the bedroom at the foot of his bed, watching you sleep, twisted up in the blankets, favoring your one side like your shoulder must have been bothering you before you fell asleep. It concerns him, worries him, this lack of improvement regarding your pain, and he wonders if maybe you should be in physical therapy.

It doesn’t feel wrong, when he traces the curve of your ass, perked up in the sheets, as if you’re waiting for him to strip your ratty little sleep shorts down to your knees and shove his cock to your cervix. He wonders if you’d even wake up if he rubbed his nose across the seam of your cunt. You’ve always been a heavy sleeper, through thunder or commotion, you’d stay sweet with your lashes flush against your cheeks, mouth slightly open in a soft snore.

He leans over you in bed, stroking the back of your head with his hand before pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple, something he knows won’t stir you, not with you how deep you’re dreaming, and certainly not with the muscle relaxer in your system.

He is a stealth operator, after all. It’s not like he hasn’t been watching, observing your new routines, the changes to your schedules and habits that have appeared over these last few months. The muscle relaxers, for example, that were prescribed for the strain in your neck and shoulder, that you’ve been taking once an evening for a week and a half, around six thirty. They’re extended release, usually able to keep you mostly pain free through the night, and he’s grateful to your doctor for insisting upon them. For more reasons than one.

He gives you another light kiss before pulling the sheet up around your shoulders, tucking you in how you like. You get cold in the middle of the night, icicle toes usually wandering across the mattress to seek the space between his thighs for warmth, shocking him into a gasp that would elicit a string of sleepy giggles from your mouth. He makes sure you’re comfortable, before slinking onto the second part of his routine.

The bathroom.

Every night, he holds his breath as the medicine cabinet pops open. He hates the anticipation, the fear of what he could discover, dreads the idea of having to start the clock over or worse, swap them for placebo. You never disappoint him though, and he catalogues the perfectly color-coded rows of birth control pills that haven’t been touched in over a month, not since his last op with wicked desire hearting his belly. What a good girl you are.

Before, he would have told you the opposite. He did, tell you the opposite. He told you were good, so good, for taking your pills, for making sure that you were safe for him, that there wouldn’t be any accidents. Guilt would eat at him each time the two of you had the argument, the ‘discussion’, about having a baby, and you would cry with misery staining your cheeks.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.” He tried to tell you, dozens of times, that he didn’t think he’d be good at it, that he wouldn’t like being gone so much, leaving you at home all the time with a baby.

“I love you, Simon. I want to have a baby, with you. My husband. Is that so wrong?” You would cry, and he could feel the weight of his choice breaking you apart, the pressure cracking beneath his skull.

“You… you don’t understand. I- I can’t.”

It’s not why you asked for a divorce, but it certainly played a part.

Something catches his eye when he turns to leave, a wayward item of clothing hanging haphazardly outside of the hamper.

Your underwear.

He plucks the scrap of blue lace and cotton from the edge and balls it into his fist, bringing it to his nose with a deep inhale. It’s sick, the way he needs you, the way the smell of your dirty panties, the honeyed ambrosia of your musk, makes his mouth water like a juvenile. Before he can change his mind, he shoves them in his pocket. He doesn’t usually take things, too aware of potentially tipping you off, but this; this is something he needs.

“Simon, can we please just… can we please just meet up and at least look at these papers?” It’s early for you to be up, on a Saturday, and he frowns at the screen in contemplation. Before, you’d never be up this early. Before, you would have insisted he stay under the covers with you, would have draped your body over his eagerly to convince him, sweetening him to your side with barely a whisper.

“How many weekends do we even get, anyway? This is your first one home in weeks. Stay in bed with me.” And he would, because of course he would. Because there was no place he’d rather be in those moments, curled up in bed, his nose in your hair, watching the rise and fall of your chest just to be sure it was all real, that it wasn’t some cruel dream that would disappear as soon as he woke up.

“You’ve been home for two weeks and haven’t even looked at them.” He grits his teeth, pressing the hard edge of his phone into his cheek. He can’t be divorced if there’s no signature. But you sound exasperated, stressed, and he’s eager to fix it for you, easily agreeing without too much badgering.

“Alright, sweetheart. Alright. I’ll meet you.”

He cannot believe his luck.

You’re nervous. Your hands flitter about, constantly touching the table, the silverware, your sore shoulder, the manilla envelope before finding the stem of your wine glass and tilting it to your lips, swallowing the alcohol over and over without any kind of hesitation. You must not have taken the muscle relaxer. He's well versed in navigating your emotions, calming you into a relaxed state with a few words or a reassuring touch, and he wants to reach out and take your hand in his, soothe you, tell you that everything is alright but… it would serve no purpose for him tonight. Sorry, sweet girl. He sits at the little two top across from you with his arms crossed, watching his lack of interest in the conversation break you down, little by little, until you’re ordering another glass of wine, and then a third, all while he nurses the same glass of bourbon. The alcohol distracts you, strays you from your course, and you eventually stop trying to try talk about that bloody manilla envelope, leaning to one side a little more than the other in your chair. When you order a shot after dinner is over, he doesn’t protest, just watches your tongue follow the seam of the citrus wedge, dabbing along the spongy white fibers before your teeth dig into the flesh of it, lime juice squirting across your tongue.

He loves you drunk. Loves you sober, loves you tired, or grumpy, or smiling. He loves you anyway he can get you, but sometimes, when you’re like this, your smile sweet like sticky toffee, buzzing and humming, it helps him get away from himself, helps him stay present and lost inside you, swept up in you. It makes him think about the honeymoon, your feet buried in the sand, tucked away in secluded cove, no one around for miles. He fucked you on the beach, fucked you in the ocean, fucked you in someone else’s cabana that day, and you giggled the whole time. Pearly pitched music that wrapped in him the strongest feeling of bliss, skin that tasted like brine and sun, your hand in his on the walk back the hotel, peeking under your wide brim hat every few minutes to press his lips to yours.

“Wan’ one?” He shakes his head, but pulls your hand into his, feeling the warmth of your skin. When you don’t pull away, his blood heats, churning through his veins like fire. “Figured.” You sigh, and then flash him a mischievous, coy grin. Cheeky girl. Think you’re so clever. “Want to get out of here?” You croon, and he smiles indulgently behind the mask. “Lead the way.”

You’re giggly, excited when he bends you over the table, the kitchen table where you used to eat together, breakfast for dinner when he’d come home, waffles and bacon at one in the morning.

You don’t protest when he slides your skirt down your hips and over your ass, thumbs spreading you wide to reveal your glistening cunt, twitching and desperate.

“My poor girl, has it been so long?” He coos, relishing in the way you moan with your lips on the wood. He knows it has, knows you haven’t been with anyone since the last time he fucked you, months and months ago, on the night you asked for the divorce. “Shhh. I’m here now, I’m gonna take care of it.”

“You have to pull out.” You slur, breath hot, fogging against the finish of the table. “Promise.” He grunts something under his breath, nonsense, but you can’t tell the difference, and when he slides inside your scorching cunt, you howl, breath hitching with the stretch.

Bleedin’ Christ. You’re so tight, so wet, soaked enough that it sticks to the curls around the base of his cock. How could he ever give this up?

“That’s it.” He kisses your shoulder, pressing his chest to your back with his weight, pinning you in place, his hands clamping down around your wrists like shackles. “Squeeze me tight, good girl. Show me-“ Show me how you’re going to hold my come in your tight little pussy once I fill you- comes to mind, but he bites his tongue instead, not willing to tip you off too soon.

To have and to hold. In sickness and in health. For better or worse.

I promise to love and cherish you.

Till death does us part.

Till death.

“Simooon.” You sing, hips start to push back with him, fucking yourself onto his cock, chasing him, chasing your pleasure, mouth half open with the little pants and whines that are music to his ears. He keeps you pinned, flat against the table, fingers between your legs, stroking your clit, shoving you closer to your orgasm, delightfully pleased by the way your pussy pulses around him.

“Come on.” He urges, big hand between you and the table, pressing against your lower belly, still tapping away at your clit, indulging in the trembling of your legs.

“Fuck- fuck, Si.” You cry, clenching down around him with your orgasm, voice breaking.

“There it is… what a good girl.” He hisses, keeping his pace, pushing deeper and deeper until he’s notching himself nearly inside your womb. It’s overwhelming for you, he knows, but he doesn’t stop swirling his fingers around your clit, zapping electric pulses through body.

“Nngh Si. Too- ooh it’s- it’s too much.” You wail, a tear on your cheek, and he nods, nosing above your ear.

“I know. You’re doing so good for me, so perfect.” It’s whispered with a groan, hands stroking your hip, keeping your steady, in place. “Just need a little more, just- just a little, I’m gonna-“

“What-” You ask, more with it now that you recognize the edge he’s riding, the roughness in his voice clueing you in to where he is, but he sends you back into orbit, pressing your clit and working you in circles. “Oh, oh.” Your hips rock, and he moves with the momentum, fucking into you faster, grunting the truth as he speeds towards the cliff, desperate to drive the car over the edge, eager to change the course of his life, your life, his marriage.

“Take it.” He spits, wide palm spread across your shoulder. Everything in him tightens, fire spreading through his veins, pressure rising in his body like a fucking tea kettle, about to scream out a whistle. He’s going to breed you, fuck you deep with his come and put a baby inside you, give you what you want, what you’ve always said you wanted, the thing that made you cry in the middle of the night when he refused.

Well, he’s going to give it to you now.

“Fuck- here it comes.” You rock again, half lost to the world, eyes glazed over in pleasure, spasming around his cock with your second orgasm. He slams into you, burying deep and you keen, fingers gripping the edge of the table, his hips flush with yours like a lock.

And he’ll throw away the key.

You blame yourself for the first time.

You blame your nerves. Your lack of self-control. You drank too much, trying to fight the anxiety that was threatening to spill from your mouth by way of your tongue.

And well, didn’t he just look too fucking good, sitting across from you at dinner. Eyes on your lips. Hand dwarfing the rocks glass. Shoulders broader than a door frame. He put on mass since you saw him last, and you spent half the meal trying not to think about stripping his shirt off so you could inspect for new wounds, new scars, new stretch marks.

And didn’t he feel so fucking good too, bending you over the kitchen table, sliding into you from behind with almost no prep, hint of pain making you see stars, just the way you like it. Fucking you like the man you married, like the man you fell in love with. Calling you his good girl and making you come all over his cock like a champ.

You blame him for the second time.

You could blame yourself, for inviting him over- but your intention was clear. Sign the papers. Discuss the house. Be done with it all and close this chapter. Move on with your life, with both your lives.

But he showed up on the wrong day, at the wrong time, with a bottle of your favorite wine, the malbec. The one from your first anniversary, with a large pizza, thin crust with extra cheese (your favorite) and an order of garlic knots.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d eaten or not, figured I’d pick something up, just in case.” He shrugged, and just like that, you were bereft of words, staring at him with nothing coming to mind. Didn’t you say tomorrow? You stood in the door, blinking, Riley whining behind you, already eager to see his dad. “Sweetheart? You feelin’ okay?” His hand was on your arm, warm, thumb rubbing a circle on the inside of your elbow, and even that small amount of contact, that little trickle of concern, sent you into a spiral, muscle relaxer already working its way through your system, slowing your response time, making your brain a little fuzzy. His eyes shimmered in the porchlight, and you nodded, robotically, feet still stuck in the doorway, until he was prompting you to let him inside. “Can I come in then, get this signing business done?”

You ate pizza and drank a glass of wine (frowned upon considering your medication, but one glass couldn’t kill you, right?) out of regular glassware (a sin, if anyone asked your poor mother) as the manilla envelope sat on the coffee table and practically watched the two of you, oozing with judgement.

You’re supposed to be divorcing. Not cozying up on the god damn couch. Weren’t you the one who told him to find a new place to live? Weren’t you the one who said the two of you wanted different things in life, from it? Weren’t you the one did this, pushed him away, shoved him out the door, told him it was all too little, too late?

But when his fingertips drifted to the top of your spine and then over, like he knew exactly where you were tender, you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch, more and more until he had your back against his chest, strong grip on your shoulder, working your taut muscles with expertise.

His fingers dig deep, groan slipping between your teeth, breathy and low, enough that he’s immediately releasing you.

“Did I hurt you?”

“N-no.” You shake your head, which only makes you dizzy. Probably shouldn’t have had that glass of wine. “Feels good.” He chuckles, and tucks you closer, head tipping back into his chest, eyes half closed. “Tweaked something in m’shoulder a few weeks ago.” For some reason, you feel the need to explain it, to tell him. “Went for a slide tackle, ended up halfway under the girl. And she was a lot bigger than me.”

“You still playin’ in that women’s league?”

“Every Sunday.”

You were so relaxed, so pliable, that you didn’t utter a single protest when he leaned you back on the couch like a doll, pulling your leggings down and off your ankles, sliding your panties away to bury his face in your pussy. You didn’t want to protest, or stop, or get up off the couch, even though, somewhere, in the back of your logical mind, you knew what you were doing was stupid. You knew, that doing this once was mistake, but doing it twice was just downright foolish. It’s just sex though. He can still just sign the papers and go. Who hasn’t had a little runaround with their soon to be ex-husband before the final nail is hammered in the coffin? You’ve never been a saint, after all.

“Lift your hips.” He taps your side, and you do, letting him slide a throw pillow under them, plumping it under your ass for good measure. “Good girl.” You beam, woozily, and he chuckles, face cracking into something that’s flooded with light, something happy, the face of the man who used to be your husband, used to love you, want a future with you, not just endless rotations around the world with the 141 and a sometimes wife that he sometimes saw.

“You have to pull out.” There’s backbone to your words, but it’s brittle, and easily breakable. “You didn’t listen last time, and ‘m still mad about it.”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl.” His lips press against your thigh, and then your knee, trailing up to where he’s got your ankle in his hips. “You just feel like fuckin’ heaven.” You huff. “I will this time, promise.” He rubs your thigh, zinging your skin with a small slap, your yelp teetering off into a moan when he presses knuckle deep into your sopping wet cunt.

“This doesn’t change anything.” You don’t know why you say it, why you’re so compelled to draw the line in the sand in this moment, when you could have said it any time before hand. Or, even better, had him sign the papers like you originally planned.

“I know.” He shifts you, pulling his occupied fingers free to rearrange your legs, folding your knees back against your chest, the position combined with the pillow under your hips practically tilting you all the way back, the angle enough to make you a little dizzy. Your hand shoots forward to latch onto his forearm for balance, little whimper sneaking away from you, making his brow crease in concern. “I’ve got you.” He whispers against your cheek, lips ghosting over yours, plucking a sweet kiss from your mouth before there’s heat grazing your opening. He keeps a hand on your knee until he’s pushing inside, thrusting in one fell swoop all the way until he can’t go any further, punching your cervix with the head of his cock, swearing behind a tight jaw. It’s a lot of stretch at this angle, deeper, sharper, and you squirm, adjusting to the pressure of him splitting you open.

“F-fuu-ck.” Your eyes roll back in your head, off somewhere, somewhere not this planet, not this plane of existence where he’s practically in your belly, slick noises bouncing off the walls of your living room, his knees against the pillow, back sloped for enough leverage that he’s practically fucking downwards into you, bent forward with his chest against yours, torso locking you in place, arms around your head like crown. Or a cage. “Si- fuck. It- it hurts.” you babble, gasping into his neck, teeth dangerously close to his shoulder.

“I know, doin’ so good. Almost there.” You start to melt around him, gentled into it, the patting and cooing and kissing sweetening you soft by the passing second. “Easy love, open up for me.” He pants into your mouth, tongue licking in behind your teeth, invading your senses, your very existence, and it’s so much, too much, but you can’t stop. You let yourself get swept away, mind slipping deeper and deeper every time he thumbs your clit, rubbing a circle around the swollen bud, tapping across it just how you like. “Relax, sweetheart, that’s it.” He keeps bringing you closer and closer to coming, playing your body like only a husband could, plucking the strings that make the sweetest melodies, chords vibrating together until you’re clenching down on his cock, spine curling forward, everything inside of you exploding with a blinding, fiery orgasm that has you crying his name, body shaking underneath him with aftershocks. “You’ve been such a good girl for me.” He murmurs into your sweat-soaked temple, cock sliding out just to push all the way deep again, hips grinding against your ass in a circle. “Haven’t you, sweet girl?” You nod, because yes, of course. You’re always good.

“Yeeah.” You squeak, vowels heavy, eyes heavy, head heavy, everything too thick underneath the weight of your orgasm, his cock lodged inside you, the muscle relaxer mixed with the Malbec, the chagrined manilla envelope sitting on the table, a mere two feet from your prone body.

“I know. I know you have.” The muscles in his arm flex, tendons in his neck becoming more defined, and his movements stutter, fucking you in a frantic, desperate way, wild with some sort of chaotic need. “I’m gonna give you a gift for it. For being so good.”

“You- you-“ You mean to say you what? What do you mean? What are you talking about? But you can’t get any of it out, only able to watch him through half shuttered eyes, admiring the slope of his jaw, the white of the scar on his chin, the drip of sweat in his clavicle.

“I love you.” A big hand holds your hip upwards, steady, pinning you to the pillow, pace turning hungry, unrelenting, his forehead pressed to yours as he bottoms out, trying to fuck you as deep as possible, to consume you, to drown in you, shoving you further and further up the couch. It’s erratic, and insane, and so- so Simon, that the tears dripping down your cheeks feel normal, everything feels right in your hazy, fucked out brain. “I love you.” He tells you again, and his jaw clicks in your ear. “I love- fuck, fuck, I’m coming.”

You should have protested. You should have reminded him of his promise. Should have said no, remember, you did this last time. We talked about this. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Couldn’t even get your mouth to work right, too spun out on him, on yourself, on floating on a cloud, high above your life, like choices didn’t have consequences. You were blissed out on your own bad decisions, sleepy in the cocoon of an alternate universe with your hips tilted on a pillow, where your husband was still your husband, and not some absent ghost.

You didn’t even protest when he gathered you together in his arms and carried you upstairs. Didn’t mind that he got one of your make up wipes from the bathroom and cleaned your face, tucked you in, and kissed you goodnight.

You didn’t mind any of it, until you woke up the next morning and faced that manilla envelope.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter, because in a weeks’, two weeks’ time, he’d be somewhere on the other side of the planet, or hemisphere, or country, somewhere classified, doing god knows what. He’d be gone, and you’d be here, just like always. Just like old times. The sex didn’t matter. It meant nothing. You hardly remembered most it, just clips here and there, the taste of his mouth, the feeling of being so full of him. It didn’t matter, and you repeated those three words in the mirror, four, five times in the morning, intentionally not looking at the gleam of your rings, the wedding band and engagement ring, a fated pair… all alone.

Besides, you could always mail the paperwork. Address it to John. He’d make sure it gets taken care of.

You cringed when you thought about the note you’d have to enclose, the awful acknowledgement of your ineptitude- “Hi John, sorry, but could you have Simon sign these when you get a chance?”

And then, everything changed.

“LT!” Soap shouts over the din of the common room, jerking his head towards the office at the end of the hall. “Price needs ye.”

Price is standing behind his desk, arms across his chest when Simon pushes the door open. His lips quirk, head shaking with a sigh. “You have a phone call.” He motions to the landline, one of the only phones in this entire building, currently off the hook, open line waiting in the air. A phone call? “I’ll give you some privacy.”

When the door shuts, and he’s alone with the phone in his hand, he takes a deep breath, and puts it to his ear. “Hello?” His thumb strokes the silicone wedding band on his ring finger, rubbing it in a circle as he waits for a response. This number is for family members and emergencies, real serious shit, and he’s not-

“Simon?” It’s you. It’s your voice on the other end of the line, wet with tears. His heart stops in his chest, lungs frozen in place, anxiety curling in the pit of his stomach. Your crying always puts him on edge, and it’s worse, with him here, and you alone, everything hanging on the precipice. “Simon? Are you there?”

“I’m here. What’s wrong?” He closes his eyes. Say it. Please. Fucking hell. Please.

“I- I need, I have to tell you something.” You’re still crying, hiccupping with distress, and he wishes desperately that he was there with you, holding you, telling you everything going to be okay to your face, instead of over the phone.

“What is it sweetheart?” He tries to encourage, relaxing back into the chair when you take a deep breath. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I’m pregnant.” His palm covers the receiver immediately, just in case, and he thumps the top of Price’s desk with his fist, stupid grin stretching his face wide.

“You’re what?” He feigns shock, confusion. “Did you say… you’re pregnant?”

“Yes.” You blubber.

“I thought you were on the pill, sweet girl. I wouldn’t have-“

“I told you to pull out! And I was b-but I stopped taking it, like two months ago. I forgot and after the first time when you were home, after the restaurant I thought, oh well, I had only been off the pill for a month, less than, after being on it for like fifteen years!” You practically shriek in his ear, a mix of sob and hysteria, trying to suck air into your lungs before continuing. “Getting pregnant after being on it for so long just doesn’t happen. It’s almost impossible! So, I d-didn’t worry about it. And then the second time was only like, two nights after that night and I just thought- I thought everything would be fine! I’m s-s-sorry, I’m so sorry.” You’re babbling, gasping, and he rubs his neck.

“Alright, alright. Hey, hey listen,” you’re still crying, voice cracking over the line and his heart breaks for you, guilt swamping him over you being alone. This was not the plan. He was supposed to be home for this part, to be there for you, if it took. “Sweetheart, breathe. You need to breathe.” You struggle through a few deep breaths, nearly wheezing, and he winces each time. It can't be good for you, or the baby, to be stressed like this. “Good girl, that’s it. Nice an’ slow. Good.”

“I'm sorry. I don’t know what to do, but-” You whisper, like you’re telling a secret, and he closes his eyes, imagining you pacing in the kitchen, hand in your hair, on your hip, anxious. He knows you. Knows you better than he knows himself, anyone. Soap, even. He knows, the reason why you’re saying sorry over and over, isn’t because you’re apologizing for getting pregnant, the two of you did that together. Or rather, he did it.

It’s because of what’s coming next.

“I do know that I… I want this baby, Simon. I know you… you don’t want this. That you’ve never wanted it, and that’s okay. I can do this, alone. We’ll still get divor-“

“Stop.” He doesn’t enjoy cutting you off, but he needs to put an end to this talk, this idea that still seems to have a hold on you. “Look, I’ll… I’ll come home. We can talk and, figure out what we’re going to do, okay? You’re not alone sweet girl. I’ll be there.” You’re silent for a moment, a moment that feels too long.

“Okay. You promise?”

I promise to love and cherish you.

Till death does us part.

Till death.

“I promise.”

#peaches writes #black sun #simon riley #simon riley x reader #🥞 anon #🌵 anon #tw forced pregnancy #tw dark and twisty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #tw forced breeding #cod x reader #cod mw2 #female reader #simon riley x female reader #Black Sun by Death Cab

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bookishdreamer28 · 5 months

Text

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Mattheo opened the door slowly, trying not to make loud noises. As he walked in his room, his eyes fell on your sleeping figure peaking under the covers and he felt his body instantly relax. The reason why he has been so upset lately is because he had these really awful nightmares about you, nightmares that made him scared and had made him spend most nights staying awake, while watching over you as if he was afraid that you might actually disappear.

He took his clothes off and strolled to the bathroom. Once he was done from there, he headed to bed, wanting desperately to hold you. Once he got under the covers he gently wrapped his arm around you and brought your body against his. He leaned in to take a look at your face and when he saw the cute sleepy face of yours, he gently smiled, his heart beating rapidly at the sight of you.

He was about to lay back on his pillow, but then he felt your body stirring and he moved closer, afraid that you were having a nightmare. But then you slowly opened these gorgeous eyes of yours, and he hugged you, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Hey sweet gir" he whispered and you turned to the side, smiling beamingly at him. You wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his scent which brought you comfort and warmth.

"Is everything all right? I noticed how upsetyou seem lately" your hand cupped the side of his face and he leaned in your paml, in need to fell your skin.

Dont worry sweetheart everything's ok" he kissed your forehead and held you closer to him. In all these times, the day that haunted him the most was the fay he almost lost you. He had never utter a word about how he feels scared of losing or how these nightmares tormented his soul. He wanted you to not worry about him.

"I know you're hiding things from me Mattheo" And he knew you were about to be serious since you called him by his name.

"You need to talk to me. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to hide things just because you don't want me to worry about you. I'll always worry. And it's not my job. It's because I love you" you whispered and you could see how his eyes became glassy, trying to hold his tears back.

"Express yourself the way you feel and want to Mattheo. You should've known by now that I'm here for you no matter what" after that he instantly laid his head on your shoulder and you silently played with his hair.

His released a shaky breath and his hild became a bit tighter around you.

"I love you, I love you so much" you heard his voice shaking with emotion and you turned your head to kiss his head.

"I just don't ever want to lose you. In all my life, I had only known darkness. Nothing good or pure surrounded me but that changed when you came into my life. You know how dangerous it is to be with me and trust me, there were times I thought I should push you away for your own safety, but my love for you grew day by day, with every smile of yours, every laugh, every touch." he slowly sat up to look in your eyes.

His fingers traced your cheek softly as he slowly moved closer to you, pressing a kiss to your lips. The kiss was full of unsaid feelings and strong emotions, the desperation in his movements as he cradled your face to deepen ths kiss, made your stomach flip.

When you both pulled away, he laid his head back on his pillows and circled his right hand around you, bringing you close so you can rest your head on his chest. You looked up at him and said:

"I'll always be here for you love, always" you whispered and he smiled at your fondness in your voice. He kissed you once more and held you tight.

Having you right here in his arms, was the greatest gift he could ever have, especially after he experienced great loses in his life. You were everything he could've ever asked for and even though at first he didn't want to be around you because you made him feel things he had never felt before, he doesn't regret a single thing. As long you're here with him, nothing can make him live in fear anymore.

----

I've been crushing over many fictional men lately and one of them is Mattheo 🙌 I thought about writing a mix of a bit of everything, sooo I hope you enjoyed reading it ✨

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hollyskywalker · 6 months

Text

Worst nightmare

She had him wrapped around her little finger.

Coriolanus knew she did. He's no longer the same teenage boy trying to wrap his head around what this achy feeling in his chest is. He no longer convinces himself it's hunger, or that he's just confused. He knows the feeling is longing, desire, lust, or maybe even love.

After everything that happened in District 12 with Sejanus, with Lucy and the people he left behind he had hoped he'd never have to go through this again. A foolish hope, he realizes now. He's a human being and it's almost unavoidable there are people out there who would know just the right thing to say or just the right thing to do for him to lose his ambition focused mind in the fog that is love, or obsession in his case. He's not sure there's really a difference between the two.

But he thought he knew better than to let someone in again. He hadn't liked how Lucy made him feel vulnerable, and how it had hurt when he realized she'd left him in the woods.

Yet here he was, pressing this infuriating woman against the wall with her legs wrapped around his hips, their lips barely parting to breathe before pulling the other back in.

She was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

She was also his close friend's wife.

He always thought of himself as a gentleman. Sure, he did questionable things and studied under the most questionable woman of Panem during his time at university, but at least he was polite about it. Or at least, he acted in the way one would expect a gentleman to act.

Kissing your old classmate and close friend's wife is not very gentleman-like. He knows this but when she tangles her hand in his hair the way she does, he can't find it in himself to care.

“Festus will come find me” she murmured into the kiss. He ignored her and started to kiss his way down her neck. He's not going to acknowledge another man's name coming from her mouth when his mouth is the one making her keen so sweetly.

She repeated her words and when ignored her once again she gently nudged him back a bit so she could look into his eyes “Coriolanus, you know he can’t catch us. Everything will be ruined”

He thought he might start laughing. He honestly pities the tree somewhere out there whose single purpose is to replace the oxygen her husband wastes. “Festus Creed does not have the capability of ruining anything for me”

She hummed and brushed his hair off his face. “Your mood before we came here seemed pretty ruined to me”

His grip on her waist tightened at the memory of Festus drunkenly clinging to her, embarrassing her, during the entirety of the evening before Coriolanus had cleverly thought of an excuse to whisk her away.

“Very daring, to take me away from my husband in front of all those people” she whispers, her hands coming up to rest gently on his shoulders. “Not at all like you to take that kind of risks”

He didn't bother responding to that and simply rested his head in the crook of her neck, pulling her body as close as possible to his. She rolled her head to the side, giving him better access as her eyelids fell shut. His nose grazes up and down the length of her neck, breathing her in.

It had been a long day. His path to becoming Panem's president was set and he was prepared to wait for the perfect moment now that he has the right people on his side. He was not an impatient man, but so close to his goal it was hard not to long for time to speed up just a little bit.

That's why he'd already been annoyed when he arrived at this fundraiser which must be the 10th this month, and then he had to watch Festus wrap his arms around her. It was just too much.

When they are together, it's like all the noise is cancelled out and he can finally feel at peace. His mind finally rests and he enjoys when they focus solely on each other and nothing else.

“Marry me” she murmurs in a voice like honey.

He's taken aback, pulling away from her to look at her wide-eyed. He hardly noticed anything around him; he felt disorientated, dizzy. His mind worked feverishly. Did she really just ask that? Did he imagine things?

It takes a moment for him to gather himself enough to answer her. “What?”

She tilts her head to the side with a grin, linking their hands. “Marry me. You want to become president and you have all it takes to become one except for a wife. People will expect you to have one by the time the campaigning truly starts, and you know no one works a crowd better than me. I have them hanging onto my every word within seconds,” she pulled him down slightly so she could comfortably wrap her arms around his neck “With my family name, and influence, and your talent as a natural leader, combine the two of us and Panem would be yours by the end of the year”

He stared at the wall on the other side of the room.

Laying her fingers on his left cheek, she turned his face to look at her. “Just imagine how powerful we could be together as a couple”

He was imagining it. But...

“They'd never allow you to divorce Festus” he said with certainty. This he knew for sure. The family name and influence she spoke of would not be as impactful if everyone knew she divorced someone from the Creed family. They'd call her crazy, and steer clear of her.

“We could not marry unless Festus were dead”

Her eyes darted between his, her hand cupping his face. She truly was ethereal.

“I know”

Her response is entirely too calm and he frowned at her.

During events he would often watch her socialize and play the crowd just like she said, until they were hanging onto every word that fell past her pretty lips. She always seemed so genuine when she talked to people, but he had caught the glint of ambition in her eyes, just like him.

She was an impeccable liar without a tell. She could lie to whoever she wanted to. Despite that she tended to be a very honest woman. He knew he would be able to count on her if she was on his side. Her, with her always impeccable appearance and her fashionably styled hair wearing nothing but lavish clothing standing out blindingly, concealing her still very much venomous nature. Perfect. Absolutely perfect she was.

Festus was undeserving of a woman like her. He'd always thought it but now he was sure of it.

He could already picture it. Him, waving down at the crowd with her by his side, the envy of Panem. There would always be people against him and his tendency of making unethical choices. But how could they doubt his leadership if a woman as good as her was married to him? They'd believe she'd keep him on the right path.

She was working her way to the top, and she was succeeding. So it would only make sense for her to ask him. Festus had his sights set on presidency too, but if she believed Coriolanus had a better chance... Coriolanus tried not to let it get to his head.

Was she insinuating he kill Festus for her? So they could marry and she could become Panem's First Lady? Did she know he'd killed before? If she did, she obviously wasn't bothered by it or scared of him because of it.

But then there was Festus. Coriolanus didn't particularly like the guy, in fact, seeing Festus trip was the highlight of his day not even a week ago, but could he kill the Creed heir? He had killed before but in this situation it's less trivial. It's not about survival, nor about making it to the top. He was sure he could make it without her...but still... did he want to, without her? Is she not worth it? Is having her by his side worth killing Festus Creed for?

She's not worth it, he thought and tasted the lie as soon as it crossed his mind.

He met her eyes and thought of her smile – the smile he can't ever seem to get out of his head – and-

He was going to kill Festus Creed.

Memories of Sejanus flashed across his mind. Sejanus had been in the way of him ever returning to the Capitol. So he took choices that haunted him, but he didn't regret. Just like he wouldn't regretting ridding her of her infuriatingly incapable husband.

Truthfully, Coriolanus was surprised Festus was able to stand with a spine that weak. Always following what others told him to do, never thinking for himself, so easy to manipulate. Yet he saw himself suitable for presidency?

His hands have settled on her waist seemingly out of pure instinct. His throat felt dry, and he swallowed several times before he tried to speak.

“Yes” he nodded, decision made “Alright”

Something bright flared in her eyes as she looked at him. After a pause, she practically launched herself at him, knocking into him so hard that he had to take a step back. He laughed quickly. One of his hands is still on her waist, but the other cups the back of her neck as his thumb strokes over her throat.

She tilted her head up and pecked his lips. Something horrible tugged at his chest, and he knew. There's no one more dangerous in the world than her. Because he's obsessed and in love as she gazed up at him through her lashes.

The blood was thundering through his brain. Happiness filled his chest; a dizzying sensation and his head swam with emotion. His arm slid around her waist, his hand coming to rest on her hip.

“Mrs Snow” he whispered like a promise, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.

"What is it?" she chuckled "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, roughly but passionately.

"You are my worst nightmare and the woman of my dreams all at once"

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #tbosas #tbosbas #president snow #coryo x reader #coryo snow #the hunger games #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you

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themultifanshipper · 19 days

Note

don't be shy. elaborate.

personally i see this podium as carlos holding reader in place between his legs, readers back against his chest as oscar absolutely devours them. i just know he's the king of guy to unhinge his jaw and eat his partner alive because have you seen that man? no further explanation is needed. carlos is praising reader to no end while they're squirming and poor lando is sat in the Cuck Chair TM (there's one in every hotel fight me) unable to touch himself even though he's so hard it HURTS and all he can do is grip the armrests of the chair until his knuckles turn white. go forth and do with my thots what you will 🙃

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/750822766739111936/or-foursome-if-youre-not-a-pussy

This lineup goes hard

Warnings: nasty, nasty foursome. Unhinged Oscar. female reader

Oscar and lando bet that whoever was in front would get to eat you out while the other was forced to watch.

They put everything they had into that race, but Lando got damage and fell behind Carlos through no fault of his own.

So Oscar had an idea: let carlos join, just to torture Lando that much more.

So there they were, Oscar with his head buried between your legs, Carlos behind you holding your arms behind your back so you couldn't touch oscar, whispering sweet praises into your ear, and poor Lando in his cuck chair facing the bed.

Lando wasn't allowed to touch himself, so he was white knuckling the armrests as he squirmed, cock hard and leaking in his pants.

Oscar had promised him that if he was a good boy, he would fuck him nasty after, so he was determined to last.

Oscar was undeniably the best at giving head. Lando and Carlos were good too, amazing in fact, but Oscar had that lazy desperation that drove you insane. He alternated between gliding his tongue over your pussy, and shoving it as deep as possible while using his nose to rub at your clit, jaw unhinged and eyes rolling back as he loses himself in the sensation of your sweet juices running down his face.

You were three orgasms in when he finally lifted his head, face and shirt soaking wet, and looked at Carlos, who was also very hard but didn't dare try anything.

"Do you want to fuck her while I fuck Lando?" He asked, droopy grin exposing his bunny teeth, but weirdly he looked more menacing than cute in that moment.

Carlos groaned, his head rolling back towards the headboard. Lando whimpered in the corner and they both looked at him.

"Yes, please" was all Carlos could muster, the sight in front of him was changing his brain chemistry. Lando's hair was soaked in sweat, as was his underwear, very obvious tent under the wet patch as he panted and rolled his hips, searching for friction.

That's how you ended up in reverse cowgirl as Carlos pounded into you from below while Lando faced you on the bed, on his knees, prostate being abused by Oscar's fingers.

Once he was prepped, Oscar grabbed his hair and shoved his face down towards where your pussy was quivering around Carlos's cock, forcing Lando to look at it, and slid into him to the hilt, before starting a punishing pace.

Lando wailed into the covers as tears ran down his cheeks from the pleasure after being denied for so long, as Oscar started teasing him.

"Look at that Lando. Look at our girl's pussy being split open by another man's cock. That could've been you."

Lando whined as Oscar gave a particularly hard thrust before continuing "You could be making her feel good if you hadn't fucked up your race"

He knew that it wasn't Lando's fault, he was just being mean. But it was working because Lando moaned and tightened around his cock, so he slowed down to a slow grind, making Lando wail in desperation again.

"Don't be selfish Lando, our girl needs to come first, why don't you help her out, hmm?"

So he let go of Lando's hair, the older man immediately surging forward to lick over your lips spread around Carlos's cock, and Carlos groaned as he slowed down ever so slightly to help Lando out.

When Lando licked over your sensitive overstimulated clit, you shrieked and clenched around Carlos, which created a chain reaction.

Carlos suddenly pounded back into you, pumping you full of him as he came inside you, which made you come, drenching Lando's face in your juices, the sight of which sent Oscar into a frenzy, slamming his hips into Lando's, who then came completely untouched, the two mclaren drivers tumbling over the edge together.

You were all a mess of panting, sweaty bodies as you all caught your breath on the now very damp bed.

Lando spoke up first, wiping his slick wet hair away from his eyes. "Next time I win, you're going to suffer, Osc"

I spiralled (what else is new?)

Look at THESE MEN! RAIL ME! PLEASE!

#my thots #lando norris #oscar piastri #carlos sainz #lando thots #oscar thots #carlos thots #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #f1 #formula 1

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sintiva · 5 months

Text

ARMINEEEE pt.2

pt.1 of church boy! armin

his dick practically leaked between the soft pillows of your thighs. the fluffy, burgundy comforter disappeared under the tight clasp of his fingers. it felt like you’ve been milking him for hours ‘n hours but it’s only been ten minutes and he’s came…. one, tw-, three times! “y/nnn, i’m gunnu cum, ughh godddu… again —“ the poor things overstimulated himself to the point where he can’t stop, he doesn’t want to. and you’re not doing much, but the casual stroking and warmth of your body has him hooked in between your thighs. it’s comforting, exponentially better than anything he’s experienced.

when you told him he could touch you however he liked: the first thing he reached for were your cocoa scented thighs and how they rose ‘n fell with each curious imprint he placed upon them. they fluffed and molded under his hands like a pillow. hands down the softest things he’d ever felt. he groped you so eagerly, jaw wide and eyes quivering in awe of how you felt. “their not going anywhere, i promise.” intentions for him to relax only continued his exploration like he was starved. “so you really are a goody two shoes? i figured.”

“no-no, i-i’ve done this kinda thing b-before.” he blushes; bound by his own lies you giggle and he feels his face grow hotter, embarrasment like this hasn’t coursed through his bones since the day his parents took his door “you’re lying to me? that’s no good armin, remember?” your fingers caress his face; he’s hot to the touch. “i-i have!” he’s beyond flustered at this point. he grabs onto your wrist and flashes those pretty, pleading, wet eyes, begging for you to stop teasing him so much. with each passing second they grew wetter just like his… yeah. “you just wasting your time at church huh?”

“so as i was saying…you haven’t there’s no need to lie to me, besides—” you straddle his lap, and he sinks further into the bed, his eyes widen in shock. “you’re getting this excited, wanna put it in me that bad? you wanna fill me up this bad thinkin’ about it?” armin swallows back a moan and bites down hard on his lips; flush from sheer force. you feel his thighs tremble and his grip on your skirt tighten, “why are you getting all wet, min?” your brown eyes flutter one too many times, and his heart sinks into his chest. all the breath in his lungs fans out between his lips. is he being ostracized he can’t tell, but when you glance down at him with that look… as you’re dragging your hips harder along the prominent tent in his pants, you’re making him moan so much louder, “didn’t mean to, i didn’t.” he whines and bucks up into you. this long into the night and he’s writhing,, sniffling uncontrollably and babbling on about how good you’re making him feel. “but i didn’t say you could cum, you have to control yourself armin.”

ouch:( it felt like you were upset with him-well, that came a little too late… and he came bit too early. those super ugly khakis that he wore every wednesday for bible study grew warm and wet right under where you sat. soothing, unpleasant, but more of the former, considering its spread. hot, scorching your skin, blue like the hottest flame—spreading in your stomach. you can’t blame him, you’ve been searching for something like this for a while. “didn’t your mama tell you good boys don’t make messes?” bite. this far into the night your skirts bunched up around your waist, and armin’s losing his mind. he’s tried so hard to apologize for enjoying all this — you letting him do everything he pleases. the same excuse tumbles between his lips, in that sime high pitched whiny voice while a deeper flare of red painted his skin. curiosity settles in your stomach, to think he’s acting like this — and it’s not even sex.

“i’ve….oh’y god - never felt anything like…this — like you—” you can hear the nervousness in his voice, see it in his face. avoiding, your gaze, his eyes shift back and fourth, uncertain of where he can look that won’t expose his innocence. that won’t expose how abundant his joy is. the delicacy in his voice, the slight tremble and strain in it. can’t you tell he’s working so hard to keep it in? but when you grind down so hard on his hips. bend forward to bite down on his lips, and lick them to lighten the sting, he’s cracking bit by bit. he can physically feel every part of his body throbbing and how his lust for you overflows. while your thighs envelop his length, working so hard to squeeze out every drip of cum. his chest falls and that high piles up on him, higher and higher, till it comes crashing down and he’s pumping out another sticky load.

“what are you blaming me for, you’re the one whose fuckin my thighs outta control like a pup.” his moves are sloppy, out of time, uncontrollable. “‘s too much.” bubbles out. his eyes roll to the back of his head, his fingers clamp down onto your thighs. “you don’t wanna keep using me ‘til you’re satisfied?” the hint of sadness embedded into your question deepens his feralness. it hurts so much to keep going; to keep getting consumed by your offers of induction. the ‘keep goings’ and ‘don’t stop, i want you to make yourself feel so good baby’.

“you’ve been hidin’ this big ole thing from me ‘cause of your dumb parents. you’re so mean armin.” words mean everything to this boy. there’s power in every syllable you cast from your mouth. they tug on his resolve, gratifying every action he’s taking. cursing his subordination, his inability to have something like this all the time. his parents fought so hard to “protect” him from all this corruption because, “that girl will land you in trouble, can’t you see we’re trying to do what’s best for you? as your parents? it’s like you don’t care about how you’ll end up, how that reflects on us…”

your words sound better, they don’t sound like you’re degrading him to make yourself feel better. affirmations encouraging all those uncertainties his parents made sure he’d be too inept to act upon. outlining all of his priorities: all the things he could and couldn’t do. truthfully he was tired of it, so letting you have your way with him; in his parents word “corrupting” him felt liberating. this newfound freedom, that his parents warned would leave a stain, felt otherworldly.

“minnn, i want you to put it inside me.” you lift up your legs by the underside of your knees. taken aback, he groans as you fall back onto the bed, thighs spread; your cream white panties were eaten up up by your pussy lips. you pull them to the side, innocently inviting him in. smearing all your mess over your pussy lips then spreading them to reveal your puffy clit. “if you put it inside it’ll feel good.” and he takes the bait. he crawls forward, and his cock twitches. outstretched, nervous; one hand takes place on your knees and the others follows in spreading the pretty girl’s legs who lay in his parents bed with arousal leaking between her ass cheeks. “wanna let you feel something better.”

"i'll teach you how to use it, but it can only be mine, k? he looks so cute and your hearts skipping beats, it's getting so loud that you can barely hear. but as he gets closer to you and begins to line it up, asking questions to make sure what he's doing is okay you hear something. "wait!" your stomach drops and your legs do the same, armin fusses so you plave your fingers against his lips. "there it is." it's faint but you can make out that sound, the eerie beeping of a key pad. the distant notification rings through the house, chime! — disarmed, ready to arm— muffled voices, keys, shoes removed, voices growing louder, creaky floor boards. "you're fucking parents."

the two of you jump up. "fuck, fuck, fuck. armin! you said they weren't coming back til tomorrow! why are they here?" the bed was a fucking mess and armin was frozen while you collected yourself. "i-i don't know." tears stream down his cheeks and he starts to panic, the realization kicks in and he's sobbing. the only thing running through his mind is punishment if his parents catch him, when they catch him and you. the girl, the only girl they've warned him about, together in their room. "they're gonna kill me and i'm never gonna see you again and they're gonna ship me away —you're gonna forget about me an-"

"armin, if you don't stop all that bull shit and listen to me." as you readjust your skirt, you instruct him on what to do in this situation. it hasn't been your first, but you're to old to be worrying about getting caught fucking by old hags "got it?" he's already started pulling the sheets off the bed, you duck into his room tossing things everywhere; pulling drawers open and scattering papers on the floor. he runs the sheets to the laundry and tosses the comforter in first as it was the scene of his crime. the sheets could wait. you dig through some of his drawers, adding to the mess; looking for nothing causing a distraction for him. you pop his window open, the alarm chimes and that tells him he needs to be in his room. it gives you time to hop out while his parents find there way to the back if the house yelling his name, but he'll get there first in enough time to...

"armin robert arlert, you better have good reason for opening your window this late at night, so help me god, before i bolt tha-" his mom's eyes twitch. the back of the house is a complete mess, and armin's jamming to the music filtered through his earbuds as he cleans your mess; the cool breeze of the night sweeping through his room. he's stripped to clean boxers and a white tank top. "what is this?" she wails, hysterical and bitchy as always. "just cleaning, my rooms a mess, ma."

"well fix it. quickly. and my sheets, i didn't tell you to take them off. but thank you." she huffs the last part out, turning on her heel stomping down the hall back to his father.

holy shit. under his breath a sigh that releases all the fear accumulated within the last 5 minutes. we pulled it off. it's hard to hear him, but the earbuds pick up enough his voice for you to decipher the static.

"i told you we would… robert."

"you're a fucking genius, but don't ever call me that again."

"you've got a filfthy mouth, maybe i should've let your momma see how her beloved robert gets down." he smacks his lips and yells a good night, embarrassed again. "who are you talking to?"

#armin x reader #armin x reader smut #armin x black reader #armin x black reader smut #armin arlert #armin smut #armin arlet x reader

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storiesforallfandoms · 16 days

Text

moved on ~ thomas shelby;peaky blinders

word count: 2213

request?: no

description: in which his ex comes back after two years, and his fiancée is worried about what this means for their engagement

pairing: thomas shelby x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Tommy didn't expect to fall in love after Grace had ran off. He had loved her more than he loved anyone, and he thought he'd never find that love again.

Until he met (Y/N).

They met at an event Tommy had to attend. He only went to make an appearance, and was looking for a way to leave when he spotted her. Right away, he was taken by her. He spent the rest of the night talking to her, and even drove her home at the end of the night.

Within two months, Tommy had proposed. He couldn't risk losing this one. She made him feel even better than he had with Grace. (Y/N) was the one, he was sure of it. So, he asked her to marry him, and he was beyond ecstatic when she said yes.

Everything was perfect, until the day Tommy took (Y/N) to the races.

It was a scorching hot day in Birmingham. Tommy and his brothers were set to go to the races, and obviously he had asked (Y/N) to come with them. She was wearing a summer dress that Tommy had bought for her and, as he had predicted, she looked breathtaking in it. He couldn't keep his eyes - or his hands - off of her.

"You're going to cause a scandal," (Y/N) teased as Tommy's hand made its way under her dress again.

"No one's looking, love," Tommy assured her, moving her hair from her shoulder so he could start kissing her neck.

(Y/N) fought the pleasure his actions were giving her to push him away. As good as Tommy made her feel, she was no going to let him have his way with her in public.

"Can you get me something to drink?" she asked. "I'm parched, and quite hot."

"Of course, darling."

Tommy gave her a quick peck before going to find a concessions stand.

He was waiting for their drinks when a familiar voice said, "Tommy?"

He thought he imagined it, but he realized that couldn't be it. He hadn't even thought of her in years. There's no way he would suddenly be imagining her again. So, he allowed himself to turn, and there she was.

Grace.

Just as beautiful as the day she left him.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said.

"I didn't expect to see you anywhere," Tommy responded. "I thought you fell off the face of the Earth. Since I never heard from you and all."

A flash of guilt showed on Grace's face. It made Tommy happy to know she felt guilty for what she did.

"I can't apologize enough - "

"No, you can't," Tommy said. He was finally given his drinks. He took them and began to walk away from her.

"Wait!" She took hold of his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Please, let me explain. I'll tell you everything."

Tommy looked down at her hand. It was hard to miss the diamond ring on her ring finger.

"Will your husband be okay with that?"

She seemed to bristle a little at the comment, but she managed to keep her composure. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind me catching up with an old friend."

Tommy held his tongue from correcting her. He wanted to know the truth about what happened with Grace. Even if that's all their meeting was - which it would be - then it could at least be some closure for him. He agreed to Grace's proposal, but only under the condition that she meet him at the Garrison. He needed to have some sort of control in this situation.

It was only as Tommy was walking back to his seat that he realized he hadn't told Grace he was engaged. In fact, he had completely forgotten about (Y/N) for those few moments.

She was still in her seat wen he got back, eagerly watching the current race. The moment he laid his eyes on her, Tommy felt his heart swell. He realized that he felt nothing but contempt for Grace. He wasn't eager for their meeting at the Garrison as he would've been nearly two years ago. It was nothing more than a business meeting to him now, because his heart belonged to one woman.

(Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. "You've been gone for some time. Did you get lost?"

He smiled back. Instead of responding, he sat with her and kissed her cheek. (Y/N) giggled and leaned into him.

Tommy thought about telling (Y/N) about Grace, but he wasn't sure how to. He didn't want her to get upset over Grace's appearance, and their agreement of a private meeting, but he knew there was no way to bring it up without (Y/N) getting upset. He couldn't blame her either. If the roles were reversed and one of (Y/N)'s exes were trying to reconnect with her...well, that person wouldn't be around much longer.

(Y/N) looked up at Tommy and nudged him. "Are you alright? You look deep in thought."

"I saw Grace," he blurted.

"Grace? Like...the Grace?" Tommy nodded. "When? Just then?" He nodded again. "Oh, wow. What did she say?"

"She asked if we could meet up to talk about her leaving."

"What did you say?"

"I told her we could meet at the Garrison."

(Y/N) nodded, her face unreadable. "When?"

"Tomorrow night."

"And...did you tell her about me?"

Tommy was silent. He couldn't lie to her, and his silence was enough of an answer. She turned away from him to focus on the race again. She felt so many emotions that she couldn't even place them. She knew Tommy loved her, and she knew he was loyal, but she was also aware of Tommy and Grace's past. He told her everything about their relationship when they first got together. So she knew how intense Tommy and Grace's relationship had been, and how broken he was when she left.

Tommy reached over and put his hand on her leg. "Love, look at me."

(Y/N) reluctantly turned to face her fiance.

"I will call the meeting off if it makes you uncomfortable," he said. "Or you can come and be there when it happens."

She shook her head. "No, I think that will likely make it more awkward."

Tommy cupped her face. "Do you trust me?"

"My mind is screaming that I shouldn't, but my heart says I do." She chuckled and added, "That sounded so cheesy."

"It did," Tommy agreed. He pulled her towards him to place a kiss on her lips. "I promise this is nothing more than a meeting to get some closure. Any love I felt for Grace disappeared when she did. You are the only woman who has my heart, and that will never change."

(Y/N) smiled and leaned into Tommy. "I believe you. Just...tell her about me the moment she shows up, okay?"

"I will, love."

~~~~~~

The next night, (Y/N) was pacing her and Tommy's shared living room. Tommy had left for his meeting with Grace moments ago. He had kissed her and told her he wouldn't be long, and she had smiled at him but didn't speak. Once he was gone, she had stood and immediately began to walk around the house. Her nerves were making it impossible to be still.

She told Tommy she had trusted him, and that wasn't a lie, but she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of unease and jealousy. It was a cliche to say, but it was Grace she didn't trust. She didn't know Grace besides what Tommy had told her about their previous relationship, and the fact that Grace was now married. But would that be enough to stop Grace from wanting to make a move on Tommy? Would Tommy's engagement be enough?

Her mind would not rest. She was starting to regret telling Tommy she wasn't going to accompany him to the meeting. Even if it would've been awkward, at least her mind would've been at ease.

Before she could register what she was doing, (Y/N) was pulling on a coat and heading out the door. She started walking towards the Garrison. She knew it was a bad idea to just drop in on Tommy and Grace's meeting, but the not knowing was killing her. She couldn't just stay home and wait for Tommy to come back.

It was a slow night at the pub. There were a few men sat along the bar, and three men sat around one table. Harry was wiping down some glassware at the bar when (Y/N) walked in. He regarded her and nodded towards the private room that the Shelby's frequented, signaling that Tommy was still in there. (Y/N) walked towards the room, intending to knock before entering, until she heard a woman's voice on the other side.

"I never meant to hurt you, Tommy. I know I betrayed you, and nothing can ever change that. But you have to know that I did love you - that I do love you. I left Birmingham because I knew it would be better for you if I did, but I never stopped thinking about you."

"What about your husband?" came Tommy's voice.

"I love him, but I'm not in love with him. He has been a marriage of convenience more than anything. He was there, and he had a good job and a good life, and I hadn't hurt him."

There was silence. (Y/N) could only imagine what was happening on the other side of the door. She hadn't missed Grace admitting to still being in love with Tommy, and even if it seemed Tommy had. Or maybe was just ignoring the fact that she said it.

Or maybe he was happy to hear it?

"I've missed you so much, Tommy," came Grace's voice, soft. "I've thought about you every day since I left. I've been hoping for a day where I could see you again, just one more time, and as for you to give me another chance."

(Y/N) could feel her heart breaking. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she backed away from the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Harry looking at her. She wouldn't look directly at him, but she could make out the look of pity on his face. He must've known what was happening in that room, or had some idea anyways.

She was about to leave when she heard Tommy say, "Any chances you had left when you did, Grace."

(Y/N)'s ears perked back up as she moved back towards the door.

"I loved you once, Grace. If you had come back, even after admitting to me your betrayal, I might've taken you back. But I've moved on now. I have found a woman that I love more than anything in this world, and who loves me just as much. There is nothing and no one in this world who could convince me to leave (Y/N), not even you."

There was a silence on the other side. It wasn't until the knob started to turn on the door that (Y/N) realized Grace was leaving. She quickly stumbled away from the door just before it swung open and hit her. She was stood frozen as she looked at Grace - beautiful, blonde, elegant Grace, stood in a crimson red dress and her hair curled. Grace seemed just as shocked to see someone standing on the other side, but swiftly moved around (Y/N) to exit the pub as quickly as possible.

Tommy was sat at the table with a lit cigarette to his mouth. He didn't look surprised to see (Y/N). He took a long drag and blew it out of the corner of his mouth, before motioning with his fingers for (Y/N) to join him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to - "

"How much of it did you hear?" he asked.

"Well, I arrived sometime before her love confession."

"Which one?"

(Y/N) felt an angry heat rise in her face. "There were multiple?"

"There was two. Three, if you count her asking for another chance at the end there."

"Well, in that case I arrived before the second one."

Tommy reached out for his fiancée, gently touching her arm and pulling her to sit next to him.

"So you heard what I said to her, then?" he asked. (Y/N) nodded. "And you know I meant every word."

"Of course I do," she said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just shown up like this. I just couldn't settle down at home while I waited for you. I needed to be here."

"I did offer for you to sit in on the meeting." His tone was light and there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. That's how (Y/N) knew he wasn't being serious, or that he wasn't upset about her appearance.

"I know. I should've taken you up on that," she said. She leaned close to Tommy and kissed his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too, darling. Don't ever think that I don't."

"I won't. I promise."

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #one shot #imagine

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ilygetou · 8 months

Text

MET HER 0N THE iNTERNET | EREN JAGER.

PAIRING: EREN JAEGER X FEM! READER.

SYNOPSIS: Eren Jaeger met you on the internet & immediately fell in love with your looks, personality and body. He knew his crush on you was dumb and will not last long because come on — online relationships? Those don’t last that long. Until eren found a way to not make it online anymore!

C/W: losing the pwp war, noncon –> dubcon, online stalking, solo m! masturbation, lovesick! eren, possessive! eren, cheating, vaginal fingering, face/throat fucking, facial, brief after-care at the end.

WORD COUNT: 5.9K

NOTE: repost. i know y’all are so sick n’ tired of me but this is going to be the last time i promise 😓😓🤞

Eren was laying down on his bed, the moonlight illuminating and reflecting on his phone screen as he scrolled through people’s accounts/profiles on instagram. None who’ve piqued his interest, scrolling and scrolling until he came across your profile.

Clicking on your username, he was met with the highlights you have saved on your profile and the three posts you have posted. Eren clicked on the first post–it was a picture of you laying down on your bed, ass slightly up while you had your tongue in-between your teeths with a small smile.

Eren slightly gulped and continued going through your posts, his breath slightly hitching once he came across a picture of you with your thong peeking out from the low rise jeans you were wearing, shirt too tight your cleavage was all out.

Eren quickly zoomed out and went to check your highlights, clicking on the first one which was titled with “<3”, knowing exactly what it meant as soon as he saw a picture of you and another man holding hands. The next story being another picture of you and that man nose touching. As eren continued going through the highlights, the more furious he got even though he doesn’t even know you.

Eren clicked his tongue in annoyance before hitting the ‘follow’ button, maybe, fate might be on his side for once and you’d break up with your boyfriend soon.

The next day came rather quickly and throughout his whole day–eren was thinking about you. He was thinking about how gorgeous you looked, your smile so sweet, your hair styled in a unique way, everything about you was perfect. He couldn’t help but keep thinking about you, despite not knowing who you are.

12:40am.

Eren threw himself on the bed, letting out a sigh before unlocking his phone–clicking on the instagram app and checking his notifications, to find that you’ve followed him back. Eren smiled. Viewing your story to find that you’ve posted a new picture of yourself, it was a full body mirror picture. Your body slightly tilted to the side showing off your ass, you held up a peace sign over your face–you were wearing nike pro shorts with a plain white t-shirt.

Eren quickly liked your story, swiping up to reply–“lookin real’ good” and not even a minute has passed, he has already received a reply from you. “Thank youuu,” eren scoffed at the lack of energy and effort in your reply but then again, he gets it, you have a boyfriend. You shouldn’t be giving into other men’s compliments.

Eren decided to check your following, maybe even try and find your boyfriend’s username since you didn’t tag him in any of your posts.

You were following a couple of hashtags, some celebrities and then the rest were mostly your friends, family and classmates. Eren scrolled and scrolled until he came across a guys’ profile, he had your initial in his bio and a “i ❤️ my gf” pfp. His account was private and you were one of the few people following him. Eren decided that this was your boyfriend and to confirm his suspicions about it he went through your posts and checked the comment section.

A total of almost 200 comments were under each one of your posts and finally, after a few seconds of scrolling he found the same guy bombarding your comment section; “wife” “😍😍” “mine <3” eren rolled his eyes, slightly clenching his fists in annoyance.

He turned off his phone and placed it anywhere besides him. Eren was laying down on his bed, his hand resting on his forehead as he went deep into thought. Thinking of ways to get to know you better and maybe even make you fall in love with him just like how he fell in love with you at first sight.

Then an idea suddenly popped up. Eren quickly turned on his phone and texted one of his closest friends.

Eren’s fingers dragged towards the “ + to your story” button, scrolling through his camera roll and clicking on a picture of himself after the gym–shirtless and all sweaty from working out. He added any song that seemed to fit and posted the picture on his story. In a matter of a few seconds, eren got a bunch of notifications– “armin_arlert liked your story” “conniethegoat liked your story” “mikasa_ackerman liked your story” scrolling past the notifications and pausing once he got to a certain notification.

It was a notification from you, your username displayed on his screen with a ‘liked your story’ beside it. Eren felt his heart flutter, it was just a small little interaction from you but it still left eren flustered. He did find it a bit odd though, you had a boyfriend and no guy would like it if his girlfriend was liking other men’s stories. Especially not pictures of other men shirtless.

He didn’t give a fuck though. That just means he was one step closer to having you.

Eren took a screenshot of your notification, to stare at it every time he’s feeling a bit down–to remind himself that the girl he’s currently chasing noticed him and knows he exists.

Eren was already working on getting rid of your boyfriend. So he could finally get the chance to slide into your dms again but he needs to have your boyfriend out of the picture; It was simple really, all he had to do was contact one of his closest female friends to get the job done.

And who would he speak to other than mikasa. One of the prettiest girls he knows, his childhood best friend. Texting her & telling her to do him a small little favor; to text your boyfriend and “befriend” him. She obviously refused the request, why would she break up a perfectly healthy couple? And to have you, an innocent sweet girl, fall for eren’s schemes. But after eren’s constant nagging and him threatening her to drop her and waste years of a long healthy friendship made her agree.

“mikasa_ackerman requested to follow you.”

Your boyfriend didn’t accept mikasa’s request until she suddenly messaged him;

“You’re cute. Think you can settle for two?” your boyfriend was confused, how does this stranger know what he looks like when his account is private. He didn’t question it any further though–not when he went through mikasa’s profile. Pale-skinned girl with gray eyes, shaggy black hair that reached her chin and bangs that added more to her looks, her well-toned body that made her more attractive than she already was.

Immediately accepting the request and following her back.

“Thank you, not sure about the ‘settling for two’ thing though.”

Sure, your boyfriend might’ve done the wrong thing by messaging her back instead of just ignoring her dm but come on, men will be men and having a cute girl in his requests–patiently waiting for him to text back, did not make him greater than any man.

They texted for a while, mikasa occasionally sending pictures of herself wearing a sports bra while at the gym or sending full body pictures to your boyfriend to make him fold. All to which were eren’s requests and of course against mikasa’s will. Feeling an aching feeling in her gut every time she had to text another girl’s man made her feel horrible about herself. She was no better than a homewrecker.

Your boyfriend didn’t cross the line while talking to mikasa, yeah sure he was hiding it from you but he wasn’t flirting back. Sometimes, occasionally, on rare events, he’d compliment her. Saying she has a well-built body or sometimes saying she’s “kinda” good looking. But that was all before he found out she lived in the same city as him.

As soon as he found out, the way he was treating mikasa all changed. Becoming flirty with her, washing her with compliments. Doing all that behind the “i heart my gf” profile picture and behind your back as well.

And it wasn’t long before you found out. Eren texted you from an anonymous account, making mikasa send him screenshots and even screen recordings of her and your boyfriend’s chat for more solid proof. You didn’t believe it at first, denying the proof presented to you.

Until you found yourself at your boyfriend’s apartment, tears stinging your eyes as you held up your phone to show him the screenshots displayed on the screen. Crying while asking him if they’re real and begging him to tell you they’re fake, that it’s just someone wanting to play with your feelings. But when you saw the look in his eyes, shame and regret. You broke down crying, asking him why’d he decide to ruin a perfectly healthy relationship over some girl he met online? Were you not pretty enough for him? Did she love him better than you did? Deciding to just leave and not hurt yourself any longer by staying here as your ex-boyfriend chases after you. Calling you and yelling for you to wait.

As soon as you got back home, you didn’t even bother changing clothes–laying down on your bed with your phone in your hands, watching as it buzzed from the calls your ex was spamming you with, along with his desperate text messages. You dragged your finger across the block button, not thinking twice as you pressed on it. Switching apps to block him everywhere. You even deleted the story highlight, removing him from your bio and deleting posts that he appeared in. When you were finally done, your eyes were red and puffy, swollen from crying too much.

It’s been two days since the breakup and two days since you last posted on instagram. Eren knew that his vicious plan worked, having you dump your boyfriend and getting extra information about you; for example, where you’re settled at.

And what a lovely coincidence, you both live in the exact same city.

eren 🦇

Hey, everything alright? You haven’t been active lately.

Your phone lit up with a notification from; “ern_yger.” You stared at the notification for a while, debating whether or not you should respond to this random stranger who noticed your absence when even your own friends didn’t.

Unlocking your phone and tapping on his notification, dragging your fingers across the keyboard–thinking of a simple, fitting response.

Yeah I’m alright, I’ve just been busy with college.

You clicked send, not thinking twice about your response. Your message has already been seen by eren, you were left on read for two minutes before you saw him typing and while he took his time thinking of a response back you clicked on his profile. You were met with two highlights and zero posts, you clicked on his “me” highlight, feeling your mouth run dry once you were met with a picture of eren shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants and Calvin Klein boxers that peeked out. He was laying down on his side, the room was slightly dim but you were still able to makeout his face. The next one was a picture of his side profile, his hair was put up in a messy bun–his hair also looked soft and messy.

The other picture was taken from a slightly high angle, he was wearing white beaters with gray sweatpants. Once you were about to view the next story, you suddenly got a notification from eren which you accidentally clicked on.

“You sure? I noticed the missing highlights and change of bio.”

If you weren’t in the midst of trying to cope and move on from your past relationship, you would’ve noticed the fake acting concerned tactic men use to get any women they want and in this case, you were in the start of it. And deciding to fuck it and just pour your heart out to this random stranger because you really need it. Need someone to talk to right now and since none of your friends got time for you, you really appreciate eren reaching out to ask about your whereabouts.

You didn’t hold back, venting out your emotions and feelings about your situation. You didn’t leave out a single detail and made sure eren knew exactly how you’re feeling.

Eren was slightly taken aback by your reaction and willingness to share your private life with him. He even felt bad for you, you seemed genuinely upset and hurt but that still wouldn’t make him give up on chasing you. He comforted you for a bit, sending you long reassuring paragraphs. And eren slightly cringed at himself, he has never done this type of thing before—never in his life has he ever had a girl vent out her feelings to him and have him comfort her.

At the end you thanked him a lot for listening to you and apologizing for "being a bother" which eren responded with: “Not at all, I was the one who reached out first, don’t apologize.” You liked the message and thanked him once again before going on with your night.

It’s been three months since your breakup. And three months after you started talking to eren, he helped distract you from thinking about your past partner. He was funny, kind and understanding, everything you looked for in a man. You both even shared the same clothing style, music style and humor.

You didn’t have any bad intentions while talking to eren–you weren’t trying to use him to help you forget about your ex boyfriend. He was the one always texting first, asking you how you are, cracking jokes, sending you songs that he thinks you might like (you always end up loving them), sends you both movies & tv shows suggestions–he says they’ll help with distracting you and keeping your mind occupied from thinking about anything related to your past love.

While eren was the one filled with bad intentions and thoughts. First thing he did in the morning was check his phone for any notifications from you and if he got one, a wide smile would form on the corner of his lips–immediately unlocking his phone to respond back. And if he doesn’t receive a message from you, he’d unlock his phone only to be met with “sent 9 hours ago”, he’d aggressively throw his phone back to his bed. Sometimes gritting his teeth in anger and frustration, stressing over you not texting back.

But as soon as he does get a response back, he’d immediately forget all his anger and frustration from earlier. Telling you that it’s alright and to not apologize once you tell him how you fell asleep because you were too tired and ended up oversleeping which were followed by a bunch of apologies from you. And eren dismissed them, reassuring you by saying it’s okay and he really doesn’t mind—acting like he wasn’t absolutely losing his shit over you moments ago.

Second thing he does is go through your highlights. He has seen the pictures in the highlight multiple times but he still always ends up getting mesmerized by your beauty, way too much that he’d accidentally get turned on. An erection forming just by simply staring way too hard on your photos and eren couldn’t contain himself—pulling out his laptop and logging into his instagram and pulling out your highlight.

He’d zoom in on one specific picture, It was you laying down on bed while holding your camera high in the air–You were wearing a spaghetti straps pink tank top with baggy pajama pants. Your cleavage was all out and was very visible due to the high angle. Your face was mostly the main focus as you flashed the camera a small, warm smile.

Eren cupped his bulge, his breathing shifting from steady to unsteady, letting out shaky heavy pants as he lowered his slacks to where they stopped right beneath his knees. Eren’s eyes were heavy, his eyelids threatening to shut close as he started caressing the tip of his dick, kneading the tip roughly with his thumbs. Spreading his pre-cum all over the tip and slowly coming down to his shaft, massaging his hands up and down his length as his eyes were glued to the picture of you plastered on the screen in front of him.

A moan of your name slipped past his lips, his head slightly thrown back, his eyes were squinted–his hands wrapped around his cock as he messily jerked himself off. Curses and moans kept leaving eren the more he stared at your photo and the more his fantasies about you grew wild. Thinking about splitting you open with his cock while you whine and babble about how big he was, having you gush and cream all over his cock multiple times until you pass out from overstimulation.

Eren fastened his movements, squeezing the head of his cock as you kept flooding his mind and not even 5 minutes had passed and eren was already cumming all over his laptop screen. Staring at the bright screen with half-lidded eyes, his cum staining your picture that was displayed on the screen–he was letting out loud heavy pants, thinking up a way to make you his quickly and fast because eren can’t keep going on like this and it pains him knowing that he lives in the same city as you but still feels as if he was too far away from reaching you.

Eren’s phone lit up with a notification from you, a small smile spread across his lips as he stared back into his laptop screen before grabbing his phone and clicking on your notification. You sent him a couple pictures of yourself, asking him which one to post. Eren felt his heart flutter, staring at your photos in absolute awe. He clicked on each one of your pictures and saved them to his device.

He wanted to tell you to post all of them and that you look beautiful in each one of them but the idea of other men seeing your pictures ticked eren off, he didn’t want other men to see you, just the thought of it had eren boiling up with anger—with furrowed eyebrows, eren aggressively typed you a response back, a not very nice one.

“None. They’re not post worthy and the camera quality makes you look off,” which wasn’t true at all. Eren was sure that even with a poor camera quality you’d still manage to look good.

You stared at eren’s response for a while and then went and looked back at the pictures and the more you kept thinking about his reply the more his words started to seem true, maybe you do actually look kinda bad in these pictures…even though you finally got ready for the first time after the breakup. You did your hair, makeup and carefully selected an outfit for these pictures. You decided to just brush it off, you could take better ones next time.

“Oh okay! I won’t post them then.”

It has now been six months. You and eren started talking more frequently and even started going on both regular and face-time calls. And eren couldn’t be happier, your voice was soft and soothing, every time you sent him voice messages of you ranting about your day to him, he’d melt from the sound of your voice, he’d replay the voice message multiple times throughout the day. Your voice brings him both comfort and easeniss.

But then again, eren was sick in the head. He was the definition of the word ‘deranged’ but you still didn’t know that yet.

The way he’d wrap his hands around his cock while you two were on a call together, he would be on mute as you talked to him about random things–thinking that eren was listening to you but he was more focused on rubbing his aching, hard cock to the sound of your voice.

Every time you notice the silence you’d ask him if he’s alright, concern visible in your tone. Eren would reply with a shaky, low; “y-yeah” accidentally stuttering which he cursed himself for it in his head. Fisting his cock rapidly as you went back to talking. Eren loves it when you have a bad day, he’d get the chance to hear you whine and complain, sometimes on the verge of tears as you rant to him about your bad day, it makes his cock hard against his pants.

11:10PM.

You posted a picture of you in your story but you weren’t alone in the picture, a young man who looked eren’s age with short, light ash-brown hair with the sides and back trimmed shorter; making them a darker hue. He had small, intense light-brown eyes. His hands were wrapped around your waist making both of your shoulders touch.

Eren’s eyes twitched in anger, his brows knitted together as he swiped up and replied; “Who’s this?” you immediately replied with “A friend of mine! :)” eren left you on delivered, his jealousy over-taking him as he kept looking back at the picture, the way you happily smiled at the camera and the way you willingly allowed that guy to touch you like that pissed him off. A lot of thoughts ran through his head, one of them was marking you and making you his already.

An idea popped up in eren’s head. Quickly grabbing his phone and opening up the chat between you two, completely ignoring what you said earlier and typing out; “You free this friday?”

You opened the text and looked at it in utter confusion.

y/n 🐐

what do you mean?

eren 🦇

I’m asking if you’re free this friday? You know, maybe come over to my place.

y/n 🐐

Come over? To your place? I’m sorry but i can’t.

eren 🦇

Why not? It’s finally time we meet up, don’tya think?

y/n 🐐

We could meet up anywhere else, it shouldn’t be your place.

eren 🦇

What? don’t trust me?

y/n 🐐

it’s not that, it’s just that i’ve never met you before.

eren 🦇

Well obviously you didn’t? but we went on facetime calls and we’ve been close friends for months now. I even helped you get over your ex-boyfriend and you still don’t trust me yet?

Eren stared at his screen for a while, hoping that his guilt tripping tactic works. And to his surprise, it did;

y/n 🐐

You’re right, i’m sorry. What time?

Eren lets out a long sigh that he didn’t know he was holding.

“7pm is good.”

Friday, 7:30PM.

You wore a simple pink dress that reached above your knees with black thigh highs and throwed in a plain black jacket to cover up a bit. You were outside of eren’s residence, your breathing thickened before you reached out to grab your phone to tell eren you’re here.

y/n 🐐

i’m here.

sent 7:35PM.

eren 🦇

doors’ unlocked

seen at 7:35PM.

Your brows furrowed together before you turned off your phone and walked towards eren’s doorstep, hesitantly–you slowly unlocked the door of his house. And once the door was wide open, you were met with an empty hallway, a fish tank that was filled with various colorful fishes that decorated said hallway. “Eren?” you whispered his name as you walked in and closed the door behind you, slowly proceeding further into his place.

You were inspecting the furniture, everything looked so luxurious–that you were afraid to touch anything. You heard chirping noises and decided to follow the sound, a mottled grey colored, medium-sized parrot with a vent and a tail. It had a large black bill and a white mask enclosing a yellow eye, as well as a striking red vent and a tail. An african gray parrot was just sitting there in a silver cage, with his food and water in front of it.

You were admiring the parrot before feeling a large figure pressing his back against yours– “his name is hook,” his voice was deep, it came out as a low murmur, you slightly flinched and turned to face him. “E-Eren?” the teal-eyed man looked straight into you, a warm smile making its way to his face, “mhm?” he went and stood beside you and you slightly moved away to make some space between the two of you.

“Hooks’ a nice name, ‘t fits him,” you turned your back towards eren and went back to admiring the parrot. “You think?” eren tried keeping his eyes at his pet parrot as well but the way the girl of his dream was standing right beside him, in his house, right at this moment–makes him unable to focus on anything that wasn’t you. He side-eyed you to take a quick glance at you, he noticed the height difference between you two, he loved it, it was cute. It turned him on.

Eren cleared his throat which made you turn towards him, “so, wanna come up to my room?” you paused for a moment to think about it before nodding your head. Eren led the way to his room as you walked behind him, giving you an opportunity to look around his place even more. And once you made it to his room, you were shocked by the amount of space and furniture it had. His room was big which made you wonder, why would he need all that space if he lives alone?

His bed was king-sized, it could possibly fit three-four people. He had some posters of his favorite bands, artists and games plastered on his walls, a desk that had his laptop placed on top as well as other random stuff, including studying stationery. His room was well organized and filled with lots of unnecessary stuff as well as another fish tank.

You kept looking around until you spotted a wooden door, thinking of what could be behind that door until it clicked to you–probably a bathroom. He probably doesn’t like going out of his room that much so he designed a bathroom that connected to his room.

“What’dya’ think?” Eren asked before plopping down on the black cushion that was placed beside his bed– “‘ts too big'’ you answered before seating yourself beside eren, he moved closer to you, looking down at your dress, his eyes darting from your top to your thighs, that were half-covered by those thigh-high socks you wore. “I guess but it’s not that bad, is it?” you nodded your head, trying to look at anything that wasn’t eren’s face since he was too close. Way too close that you could probably count his eyelashes from how close he was.

Eren backed up a bit, noticing how uncomfortable you were. Eren grabbed a can of beer from the wooden table and opened it, taking a huge chug out of the can. “Want some?” you gave eren a confused look mixed with a disgusted look, “i prefer water” he playfully rolled his eyes before getting up and placing the beer can on the table. “I’ll go get you some then,” you watched as eren went out of the room–his footsteps fading away.

You sat there patiently before your curiosity grew, wanting to go confirm your suspicions on what’s behind the huge wooden door. You got up, unconsciously walking towards it–you grabbed the handle and pushed it down slowly, making sure to not make any noise. Once you unlocked the door, you were met with a dim room–the only sort of light coming from the three monitors placed on another desk in the room. Three huge monitors that all opened to different tabs.

Deciding to just fuck it and proceed even further–accidentally stepping on something that made a slight crunch noise, looking down and picking it up only to be met with a pornographic comic that had dried up cum splattered all over it. You let go of it quickly, your face scrunching up in disgust as you walked towards the three huge monitors.

You bent down a little to be met with a picture of you which you have posted a while ago displayed on the screen, your throat ran dry once you noticed the gooey white stains on the screen–you looked to the right monitor, an instagram profile opened on it which was one of your years old instagram accounts that you used to own during your teenage years. And the left monitor had the guy you recently posted a picture with instagram account.

You let out a shaky sigh, the guy who you thought was naturally sweet, understanding & charming was the complete opposite. A complete creep, a weird perverted man.

“You caught me,” a mans’ voice came from behind you, making your heart stop for a second–you turned around to face him, eren had a wide smirk curved on the corners of his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, you weren’t sure for how long he has been there watching you but probably long enough to catch your full live reaction.

“What is the meaning of this?” your voice came out low as if you were completely terrified of speaking up; “I don’t know, you tell me” eren walked towards you, shutting the door behind him–you took a step back, your back hitting the wall, eren had completely cornered you giving you no way out. Eren took hold of your chin, forcing you to look back at him–he aggressively moved your chin to the side, allowing himself to give you a small kiss on the neck.

You fluttered your eyes shut, you didn’t try pushing him off as he started nibbling on your neck; covering it with hot, messy kisses. “I’ve been wanting to taste you for so long, been wanting to do this for so long,” eren confessed, making a pit of disgust form in your stomach. Eren slipped a hand under your shirt, squeezing your right breast from above your bra. “Eren please…stop,” you finally managed to say which eren turned a blind eye on, ignoring your pleas for him to stop.

“Come on baby, you’ve made me suffer long enough, don’t ya’ think? Always had to beat my dick to pictures of you but now I finally have you within my grasp, don’t you think I deserve a reward for my patience? Hm?” Eren got on his knees and spread your legs apart, he placed his middle finger on your clit through your panties and started cautiously moving his finger.

You looked down on him with half-lidded eyes, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you bit your lips to surpass any sounds from slipping. He moved your panties to the side and brushed his digits past your glistening folds before slowly pushing in two fingers into your tight hole, he teasingly started thrusting his fingers sometimes stopping mid-way but the way your slippery walls clamped down on his thick digits encouraged him to continue.

You were out of breath, wanting this to end quickly but the praises eren was muttering made it a tad bit better; “Ah, so good angel, gonna have you cummin’ all over my fingers soon, okay?” “fuck you’re so pretty, ‘ts makin’ my dick hard” he was plunging his fingers deeper into your messy cunt, your silk gushing and dripping all over his fingers. The squelching noises made eren’s cock slightly twitch in his pants as he imagined what kind of things he’ll be able to do to you from now on.

You couldn’t hold in your moans any longer–letting out your moans & whimpers freely as he kept thrusting his finger in n’ out of your pussy, “think..’m close!” you slightly arched your back and squirmed in your place, you placed your hands on your mouth to silent any moans from coming out as you gushed all over eren’s fingers. You were letting out heavy pants, you plopped down on the floor, your eyes glued together not daring to even try taking a quick glance at the mess you’ve made.

Eren lowered his sweatpants–enough for his cock to spring out and slap his abdomen, he moved his hips closer to your face and started rubbing his dick on the side of your cheeks which made you let out a whimper at the sudden warm feeling. “Open up, princess, ‘t hurts, y’know?” he pushed his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your plump, glossy lips.

You swallowed your saliva before obeying and opening your mouth, your vision hazy which didn’t give you the chance to make-out eren’s girth. He shoved his cock into your mouth causing you to slightly gag, “s-so good, fuck,” you sloppily started sucking the tip, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down his length. Swirling your tongue around his tip while drool dripped down your chin and coating his balls, you moan around his cock while eren lets out soft groans; “so cockhungry, huh?” he snickered–throwing his head back while he was still firmly gripping your hair.

He pushed his cock deeper into your throat causing you to choke a bit, tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably, eren started thrusting his hips against your mouth, his dick stretching your throat with every jolt of his hips. “S-Shit,” he sharply inhales, letting go of your hair and cupping both of your cheeks instead. You could feel his cock slightly poking at the side of your throat, a clear bulge.

Moving his hips in a slow, gentle manner–scared to hurt you but the way the head of his cock kept hitting your uvula which caused you to gag around his dick and ruin his steady pace, making his hips stutter and cock slightly pulsate as his shaft land flat on your tongue, “f-fuck, keep this up and i’m gnna’ be cumming all over your face” eren groaned, caressing your face while also letting out shaky moans.

His cock shuddered, twitching inside the warmth of your mouth, “Holy shit…” he mouthened before pulling out his dick with a ‘plop’ sound, your drool was connecting to his tip–your mouth hung open, your tongue stuck out, you were letting out heavy pants as you tried gasping for air. Without any warning, a sudden splash of warm, thick liquid covered your face. Managing to get on your tongue as well, the bitter taste made you flutter your eyes shut in disgust.

His sperm was burning your face, wanting to get it off of you fast and quick while eren was admiring your cum covered face. It stained your cheeks and dripped off your chin, your mascara melted and your lip-gloss got smeared all over your face. He was panting heavily but his gaze still focused on you, half-lidded eyes pierced through you.

“Did so good f’me,” he exclaimed, bending down and gripping your chin before pulling you into another messy kiss. Pulling out with a smug look, you looked back at him with a foggy vision–a small smile made its way to your face and eren heart stopped for a moment, the way you looked at him with droopy eyes, messy face and a smile on your face will forever be engraved deep into his mind.

“Stay here, ‘M gonna make some warm tea for your throat, alright? Clean yourself up, m’kay?” he kissed your forehead before going out and leaving the room, once again. You turned your head towards the monitor, your vision landing on the picture of you, the cum stains making you fill up with shame & guilt even though it’s not you who’s supposed to be feeling like this.

The sound of a notification coming from your phone pulled you out of your thoughts.

eren 🦇

*one image attachment*

Us after i destroy your uterus <3

#eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #aot eren #ilygetou’s kinktober ⌕

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1800jjbarnes · 6 months

Text

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎: 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟/𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

Let Me Help

【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were, and Bucky was going to help you through it.

『W.C』 : 1.95k

-> Genre: Smut. Wolf Au. Fantasy Au. Fluff.

Paring: Werewolf!Bucky x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Unprotective sex. Pet names. Neck kisses, hickies. Biting. Cumming inside [don’t do that unless you wan babas] Alpha kink. Knotting. Slight choking. Rough sex. Fluff stuff. Some Omegaverse stuff

Masterlist | Kinktober list

You were a human. That fell in love with a werewolf and now you’re his mate and live in a den with all his other wolf friends that are also his pack and you are the first human to be mated to one of the wolves in this pack in history. And plus you are now experiencing what they call a heat but you aren’t a wolf and none of the she-wolves or the alchemist knows what to do so you are pacing back and forth in your bathroom waiting for your lover to come home from a full moon cleanse to tell him to help you through something you’ve never been through before….

Missing anything?

“Fuck!” Your hand slipped off the basin in the bathroom, clutching your stomach. You’ve never experienced such a pain before only being able to compare period pains or when you’ve eaten bad food. But the alchemist, Wanda had warned you since you were human the heat would be way more severe to you than a normal she-wolf. Expressing it might feel like being stabbed or disembowelment. Lovely...

You washed your face with ice-cold water multiple times to try and cool the heat rushing through you but nothing was helping. You felt like you were losing your mind and you had no idea what to do, or how to fix it. All you knew was you needed your mate and needed him now.

Maybe a shower would work? But wait... Why were you now standing under the shower head fully clothed? When did you even turn the shower on let alone get in? Your mind was jumping, hazing. Everything was happening so quickly yet standing still at the same time. You cried, sobbing out for Bucky. Crouching down you let the cold water spray on your hunched back as you hug your knees. The headache was bad and the cramps were worse. Your body was shutting down, making you wonder if this heat could kill you if not looked after.

You couldn’t let your mind slip any further, suddenly hearing the bathroom door being slammed open. A large, beefy Bucky came rushing into the shower. He wasn't wearing a shirt, probably not caring to fully dress when he turned back into his human form. His jeans were getting soaked from the water as he bent down to grab your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. You wanted to fall back down but his large frame caged you, holding you tightly so you wouldn't slip. His mouth found your neck sucking on just the right spot. You knew from the little research you had done that it would of most likely been the spot where your glands had been if you were a she-wolf and it was also the spot on your neck that he would mark when you get bounded as soulmates.

He had yet to do so, worried it might affect you if he would knot you. So Instead, when he found the urge to mark you when you both were having sex in the past, he would bite the pillow next to you or the couch arm, or even his own hand. Never would he sink his fang in your sweet soft flesh. His lips kiss along your jugular making you whimper. The small bit of pleasure was sending your mind into a spin. He managed to push you against the wall, tugging at your wet clothing to get it off your shaking body. He would kiss your cheeks, then your forehead, then the corner of your mouth. He would whisper just above the sound of the shower, ‘My pretty pup,’ ‘Let me take care of you,’ ‘That’s it baby, just breath.’

He threw the wet fabric out of the shower making it land on the floor somewhere out of sight. He took this moment, to gaze upon your beautiful body. He could smell you dripping down your leg, making him groan. It was enough to feel the tightness in his jeans get worse. He wanted nothing more than to lose control and knot you like he should. But you were human. Such a fragile thing. Not like a she-wolf that could take his strength. But he had no idea that was exactly what you needed at this moment. “James please, help me. It hurts.”

The cramps were becoming worse when not his touch was soothing some of the aches in your joints. You needed him inside you, desperately. “Please, I need you inside…” Fuck… dirty talk was something you rarely did, finding it too embarrassing to do. Bucky on the other hand was born to be filthy. He loved watching you squirm by the sheer motion of his voice telling you what he wanted to do to you. How he was going to defile you.

“Yeah, pup? You need my cock inside your soaking cunt?” he wanted more from you. Picking one of your legs up so he could stand close to you, rubbing his red angry tip along your slit.

“Yes please, fuck…hmm, I need you so badly. Please James.” Your soft whines got his heart reeling, pushing inside you with little effort as your heat soaked your cunt was perfect for him to slip in. He completely bottomed out in a second making you feel so unbelievably full. The ache in your body was gone for a moment, sweet relief was granted to you. But the cramps were soon coming back making you scream “Fuck me Bucky. Please hurry.”

Who was he to deny his mate, thrusting at a slow steady pace. Your hands gripped his wet biceps as the shower head was directly pouring in between both of you. The stimulation of the running water on your clit, helped your high draw closer. Bucky picked up your other leg, smoothing your body against the wall to fuck you at a harsher angle making your head fall back to hit against the tiles.

Your lover's face buried in your neck, licking and sucking on any flesh he could get to. Everything was perfect but you needed just one more thing which Bucky seemed to know, reaching down to press his thumb on your clit making you gasp clamping down on his cock while you came hard. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. Bucky!”

“That’s it pup, come on your mate's cock. Let me feel you come around me.” His voice growled in your ear biting at your ear lobe. He moved backwards slightly letting you wrap your arms around his neck so you could bury your face in his neck this time. You sucked on his rough skin creating your very own mark on his neck. You might not be a wolf but you certainly could still leave your mark.

“I’m coming James please!” You crashed hard, clenching around him. He kept fucking up into you, making your juices squish and squelch around his cock, dripping out onto his legs. But nothing was stopping him. He turn off the shower, needing to fuck you from a different angle.

“Hold onto the sink pup. I’m not done with you yet.” he bent you over the cold sink, making you shiver at the freezing sensation on your sensitive nipples. His cock sunk back into your quivering hole, gifting you a low grumble that ripped through Bucky’s chest. It was almost animalistic, beast-like. His like wolf was taking over. “Fuck sugar, you feel so good. So tight. My perfect pup.”

“Y-hmmm Buck…” Your hips slammed against the counter surely creating indents in your skin that would definitely bruise by the morning. His nails dug into your flesh, making crescent moon shapes while his thrusts got fast as soon approached his edge. Just a little more. Just some more and you had just had perfect timing. “Please Alpha, I need your cum inside me. Please fuck me harder. I want your knot.”

You had no idea where the name came from or why your brain was screaming at you to somehow present for him. To make him know, he could do anything to you. The name slipped off your tongue perfectly and it made his wolf howl. His hips jacked in an inhuman speed, snaking his hand around your throat he growled pooled in your ear. “Alpha hmm? You want your alpha to knot you pup? Mate you? Breed you, fill with his pups?”

Your hand banged against the mirror, smashing a crack into it but not breaking it entirely. Bucky used his hand that was on your hip to cage yours on the said mirror. Linking fingers with you as his thrusts got harder but stuttered through his unstability. “You want my mark sugar? Want to let every other wolf know you’re mine? Fuck just imagining you full and round with my pups makes me want to fuck you all night.”

“Please alpha, Make me yours.” Your cries were music to his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Your his human mate, wanting to be marked, knotted and bred. God, could you get any more perfect.

“It’s okay baby when I’m done, you’ll be leaking my seed for days.” His hand got tighter on your jugular while his lips kissed along your shoulder blades before teasingly nipping at where he would mark you. Everything was so overwhelming, your cramps and all the pain you had felt were washing away being replaced with nothing by Bucky’s scent and touch.

“I’m gonna come, Alpha!” Your choked moans were breathy and short. His hand finally let go of your neck, grasping back on your hip to hold himself up. His fangs grazed your soft skin before he pierced your flesh, letting tears pool on the corners of your tears while he slowed his thrusts to empty his seed deep inside you. you came crashing down soon after. His cock growing, stretching you out, gifting you a new form of pleasure.

“That’s it Pup, deep breath.” He licked your wound, tending to it with extra care while his hand on your hip rubbed circles on your bruising skin. He lifted your left leg up, tilting it towards his body as he sat up straight, turning you around until you could wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. Now facing him, he brushed your hair out of your face, littering you with kisses. You hummed, feeling slumber taking hold of you. “Come on pup. Let’s get you in bed.”

Walking with his cock still inside you was more than uncomfortable and he should have definitely not knot you on the bathroom room counter next time. But as he plopped you on the with him next to you, he helped you cuddle up to him, wrapping you in his scent. “Do you really want my pups…”

“Hmg Fuck sugar…” Bucky had to groan at the fact you didn’t call them kids but pups. Your pups. He suddenly wanted to fuck you again. Maybe when his knot dies down he will but for now, he needs you to rest. “Of course, I want our pups baby. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you.” He kissed you slowly, passionately. Your hand cupped his hand, smiling wide at his low giggles. Your legs wiggled suddenly straddling him. “Come on baby. You need to rest.”

You sat up, drawing circles with your hips. Bucky groaned gripping your waist tightly, bucking his head backwards. “I don’t need to rest. I want more….” You leaned down kissing his cheek before whispering. “Alpha….”

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