#hunger games x male reader

[bigfan-fanfic]

Cracked but Unbroken (Capitol!Reader x Finnick Odair)

does it count as a request if I'm begging for more Finnick and capital reader?

Finnick finds it hard to cope with the fact that almost legally, you own him, but he loves you.

You've sacrificed a lot to protect him, and Finnick can't shake the idea that at some point, you'll want to collect on that debt.

It's the moment that you provide him with a room in your place. A room with a door that can be locked from the inside.

Finnick tests it, and something just rocks him to the core.

You've given him the opportunity to keep you out. To protect himself.

And even if it's largely symbolic, the gesture is not lost on him.

You've had food delivered to your penthouse, and Finnick emerges to join you.

It hurts too much to thank you for thinking of him, for seeing him not as a Victor but as a fragile person without a scrap of comfort and giving him something of his own, so instead he just gathers up several dishes and invites you into his space, locking the door behind you.

You follow him, and he wordlessly pulls you close, and you eat with your hands, sitting on the floor, blankets around you.

Finnick laughs at your obvious lack of experience eating like this and feeds you instead.

Not in a sexy way, he's not even thinking of that- he's literally just helping you so you stop dropping food back on your plate and pouting adorably.

Finnick talks softly to you, not about anything in particular, but you love his voice and how he sounds when he's not worrying.

The conversation lulls when you finish eating. Finnick is just holding you in his lap, your back against his chest.

The trust you've shown him. The care you've given. Finnick is unsure of whether he wants to protect you or accept you as his protector.

For now, it's both. He holds you tight when you try to move.

"Don't go."

You hold his arms. "I won't."

He pulls you onto the bed, and just holds you.

You've slept in the same bed together before, but never so intimately.

He doesn't seem to know what to do besides hold you, so his lips find their way to your neck.

"Finnick... you don't have to-"

"I want to." He interrupts, softly biting your neck. "Now hush. Let me... let me kiss you."

"Anything you want," you breathe.

He holds you tight, his arms pinning yours - protection? restraint? lust? And resumes kissing your neck.

"I want you," he growls. "But... not like I've had it. I want... I don't want. I..."

"Go ahead." you soothe. "Whatever you'd like. However you like."

There's no more words that night, but you two become closer than you've ever been...

[undercoveravenger]

Rising Tides

Pairing: Siren!Finnick Odair x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “Siren finnick odair trying to enchant the reader with his song and beautiful muscles but can’t get it. Take the story whatever direction you want”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month! This is post #2 of my Spooky Month writing event - #3 will be launching on Tuesday, October 17th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

Throughout Finnick’s years he’d seen the other sirens of his pod pick off humans with ease, using their stunning looks and alluring voices to draw their prey below the inky waves of the sea. The human’s mistake dooming them to be torn apart by the pod, sirens ripping and tearing the human apart until the wisps of blood in the water is all that remains of them.

He’d doubted he would have any issues when his turn for the Hunt arose- he’d grown up knowing he was beautiful, with fins and scales the same cool seafoam color as his eyes and hair that shone almost golden. He had learned how to be charming, to play coy, and to use his looks to draw people in. He hadn’t learned how to deal with someone like you.

Finnick had known you would be his prey as soon as he saw you, a sharp pain seizing in his chest when he saw you walking along the seaside edge of your district, picking at bits of seaglass and shells absently as you meandered along the sand. He’d been transfixed by the way the sinking sun made your skin glow, the soft look in your eyes as you looked out over the waves reminding him a bit of himself and his family. 

He hadn’t been quick enough to sing for you that day, too distracted by you to remember how to string notes and words and melodies together before you wandered back up the beach and into town, but he had plenty of other chances. Apparently you were no stranger to the beach, making it a nightly habit to stroll down the sand, watching over the waves and examining the small treasures brought up by the current. Sometimes you were joined by one or two others, but Finnick could never really bring himself to pay them any mind, fixated on you the same way he always was.

He’d tried to sing for you on one of the evenings that you wandered the beach alone, voice echoing quietly over the low rush of the waves coming and going, smooth and soft and sultry just the way he’d been taught. Like he had expected, you perked up at the sound of his song, taking a thoughtless step closer to the waves lapping at the shore before seeming to snap yourself out of his spell, turning swiftly on your heel and making your way home with your hands clasped over your ears to block out his voice. For the first time, Finnick doubted himself. Was his voice not as alluring as he’d been told? What if you didn’t like his song? Was he not perfect enough to draw you in? Would his pod think him a failure?

His doubts gnawed at him further when you continued to flee from him when you heard his voice, and further still when he had laid himself out along a large rock protruding from the water so you could get a good look at the way the light gleamed off his muscles and still turned away from him.

He got lucky one day though, arriving at the shore just in time to see you set off in a small boat - something he’d heard you call a ‘kayak’- with several of your friends paddling off ahead of you in their own small crafts. He smiled a bit to himself as he heard a laugh escape you, slipping soundlessly back into the water and darting swiftly after you, tail propelling him effortlessly through the water in pursuit of his prey.

With your friends’ head start, it was pretty easy for him to separate you from them, waiting until they had rounded the edge of the bay before latching onto the small handle at the front of your kayak and tugging you further out to sea. You had scrambled to try to paddle back toward the bay and to your friends, but Finnick was stronger than you. He was faster. Built to cut through water without faltering. He was an apex predator.

Eventually Finnick deemed that he had you far enough from shore that you could no longer ignore him, releasing his hold on your tow line and moving to circle your boat, watching you curiously from just below the surface of the water. A laugh bubbled out of him at the way you twisted sharply in your boat to keep your eyes fixed on him and then having to scramble to right yourself when the sudden movement threatened to overbalance you.

He surfaced right beside the kayak, clawed hands gripping tight to the edge of the kayak, just beside your own. Finnick does his best not to put too much weight on the plastic vessel, knowing he could tip it easily and not wanting to scare you more than he already had. He wasn’t sure when his fixation on you had shifted from hunger to something so much softer but he didn’t want you to fear him. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted- Well. 

He just wanted you.

He opens his mouth and for a moment he is torn between singing and speaking to you. There is a split second when he thinks about how easy it’d be to tip you out of the boat, to drag you beneath the waves and present you to his family like he was supposed to. He thinks about it for longer than he should’ve, but he knows he can’t. 

“Why do you keep running away?” He finally forces out, words twisted and strange on his tongue without the saccharine sweetness he’d been taught to use. “Why wouldn’t you look at me? Why did you leave when I called for you?”

You are visibly shocked by the way he looks at you and he knows it must seem strange, to see a predator like him begging at your side like a love-struck dolphin. 

“Because you’re going to kill me,” you say simply, edging back in your kayak despite there not being far to go. “I’ve heard the stories about your kind. If I got too close-”

Finnick’s brows furrow as he looks up at you, “Was.” he says, releasing your boat in favor of swimming slow circles around you. “Not anymore.” He tips his head back, studying the way the clouds drifted in front of the sun. 

“So you’re… not trying to kill me?” you ask cautiously, eyes not wavering from Finnick even as he started to preen at the attention.

Finnick laughs, tipping his head to look at you and flicking water at you with the fluke of his tail. “No, not anymore.” He dips under the water, reemerging on the other side of the kayak and propping his head up on the edge of it, studying you intently. “I should, if you listen to what my family says, but I don't want to. You’re… interesting." 

He can tell you're really not sure what to make of that, but his heart jumps in his chest at the hesitant smile you give him in return.

"Swim with me?" The words escape Finnick before he can catch them, coming out breathy and desperate in a way he'd never expected to find himself sounding. He rushes to continue before he can consider the weight of what he'd asked you to do, the way he might brush against you or his tail might curl around your legs and the way he might get a look at you in something less… covering… than your usual clothes if you agreed to swim with him. "Maybe not now," he amends, eyes dropping sharply to where one of his pointed claws taps out a rhythm on the thin plastic of the kayak. "You don't trust me yet and I don't blame you. But maybe meet me tomorrow? Give me a chance?"

Finnick could see the way you jerk up straighter in your seat and your grip on your paddle shifts as you pick up on the sound of your friends calling for you. He's not sure if your answer is just an attempt to shoo him off in time to get back to your friends or to keep them from seeing him or just something you said without thinking, but the second that yes escapes you he's pushing himself up out of the water to press a sea-salty kiss to your cheek and promising to meet you at the beach at sunset the next day. 

He dives then, submerging himself well below the waves and trailing slowly after you until he's sure you and your friends made it back to the beach and then watching for just a bit longer as you disappear out of view before beginning to meander back to the labyrinth of sea caves his pod calls home.

Sure, Finnick isn’t sure if you’ll actually show up, but for the first time in weeks, his confidence has been restored and his charm feels as secure as ever. He’s definitely going against his pod pursuing you like this, but with his luck rising with the tides, he can’t bring himself to care, not with someone like you at stake.

[thesecondplacename]

Title: The boy with the bread

Part 3

Summary: Reader finally gets to see Peeta.

--

I had hoped when Peeta came home, he would be able to explain why he told all of Panem he was in love with Katniss Everdeen. That didn’t happen. Instead he was so busy doing tours and having interviews in the capital that it felt like he was moving on with his life and slowly moving - me out without even giving me a proper goodbye.

Although most people would have taken that as a sign that they were not wanted; I was not most people. So putting up a brave front as if I hadn’t cried and screamed over everything that happened during the games. I went over to his new home; he was no longer living in his family's bakery. When I knocked on his door, I expected him to open the door. I already planned how the conversation would go and as well as its resolution. He would open the door, I would force him to explain everything to me and if it was acceptable we would be able to move forward together. 

“Hello?” She opened the door. Why hadn’t I planned for her to be here? Why did I expect her not to be here? It was so stupid of me not to plan for her to be the person to open the door. I was left standing there lost for words.

 “Katniss, who’s there?” Peeta, his voice seemed to flow through the house, I needed to say something. She was looking at me like I was soft in the head. 

“Is Peeta home?” He was, but it felt wrong to ask for him. 

“I’ll get him.” before I could even say anything she was walking back into their house. I could do nothing but stand outside their door and try to calm myself. I could hear faint talking between them, as I stood outside waiting to see if Peeta would even be willing to see me. 

It didn't take long before she came back and with a different blond hair male, he was older and reeked of alcohol. They both excused themself before leaving me there. It was confusing as I didn't know whether to go into the house, leave, or just stand there like an idiot. It didn’t take long before Peeta himself came to the door to greet me, and invite me inside. It was nice inside, clean and well lived in. I could never even dream of affording something like this, I could work everyday and still would even be able to afford the cheapest couch pillow. 

He sat me down and brought me fresh pastries and a sweet tea. I couldn’t force myself to pick up a single thing. This felt wrong, everything was wrong, we weren't supposed to be here. The nice house with the lavish food and the expensive furniture, this was not the life that was meant for us. 

“I know why you’re here,” I couldn’t breathe. ”If you’ll let me explain, I can make everything better,” Why can’t I breathe? “ No, I'm sorry that was the wrong thing to say. I can make everything make sense, but you need to trust me and believe everything I'm saying.”  Why can’t I breathe, my chest hurts, it hurts so much.        

“Y/N?” his hand found me and slowly he brought me back to him. “Hey, are you back with me yet?” His voice was so kind and it made me want to cry. I slowly nodded my head in confirmation. 

“Listen to me when I say this Y/N, everything in the games was fake.” What?

“Everything?” Could he really mean that, was it all a lie? I could barely stop the smile from forming. “You never liked, no loved Katniss?” Please Peeta say yes.

“I can't say that I never had feelings for her, I won't lie to you Y/N,” I could live with that, I could. At least that is what I was telling myself.

“It’s hard to explain, but I’m going to try my best,” He was staring at me so hard, his blue eyes were almost hypnotic. “If you'll let me?”   

“Ok” because that is what we both deserve.

 ----------------------------------------------------------- -------     - Sorry, for such a late update. heh, here is part three!                                                              

[diana-foggy-master]

hehehe thanks man hehehe

[faetreides]

Would modern!coryo like being called daddy? Like reader is all dumb from him overstimulating them and it just slips out.. how would he react?

This is so me, like i’m scared of this happening. no one has made me cum tho so i’m probably safe

╰ • ✫ - ❛LILY OF THE VALLEY!❜ ✎ᝰ.

cw: daddy kink, typical coryo warnings, reader is so baby in this and he’s so bf like 😖, school stress, cunnilingus like he EATS you out to the bone fr, pain play, mentions of blood kink and piss kink, pet play coded, unedited porn for the soul, afab reader, THIS ONE GOES TO OUT TO ALL MY FREAK MODERN!CORYO TRUTHERS, reader and coryo at their most real, pretentious use of latin pet names, hinted breeding kink

You’ve been keeping it to yourself for so long, still wallowing in the idea that you should be shy about your kinks. You’ve never had a partner like Coryo before, you haven’t had a partner, period. Normally you just muffled it into a pillow while you fingered yourself to an unsatisfying orgsm and called it a day. But now you had an insatiable boyfriend with a sizable sadistic streak… among other things.

Are Daddy kinks the worst thing someone could be into? No, and you know that perfectly well. You also know that there’s enough stigma around it for you to keep it yourself. You didn’t need conversations about “daddy issues” or creepy men who assumed that that information gave the green light to do whatever they wanted to your body.

You had never admitted this to Coryo, but one of the reasons you were so nervous about your first time was because you knew it was only a matter of time before it slipped out. All the rumors and spilled stories from his past flings and hookups (things you prefer to not let get to you too much) made it even more clear that if anyone could drag that out of you, it was him.

It’s a miracle you didn’t blurt it out during your first time, you were so fucked out he could’ve told you that you said anything and you would’ve believed him. No, despite Coryo’s casual dominance that is apparent in how he pecks your lips after every bite you take from the fancy finger food held in his hands, your secret is kept safe.

That is… until the stress of assignments piling up builds up to a boiling point, and you’re left sobbing into your boyfriend’s chest.

“Shh, petal, get it all out.” He hums, slowly dragging his fingertips up and down your shaking back. “You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t calm down, baby. Let’s take some deep breaths, okay?”

“Okay..” You heave.

Coryo gently pulls your hair and directs your forehead to knock against his. It startles you out of your teary state for a moment, you blink in confusion and he chuckles. His eyes are so warm, they could set you on fire right there on his lap. His hold on your head doesn’t let up, and you sniffle as you place your hands on his chest.

He directs you to breathe with him, “One… two… three… four… hold it… now breathe out through your mouth, do that a few times with me, alright, dove?”

“One… two… three… four…” You repeat his words, which helps you center your focus on the pure love in Coryo’s stunning eyes.

After every set Coryo makes a childish ‘woosh’ sound, purposefully blowing hot air into your face. It has the intended result and he grins triumphantly at your watery giggles. Once he’s calmed you down enough, he’s leaping into action and raining down an army of kisses all over your cute face.

You’re too sensitive for it, but he wants to tease you for being “Daddy’s little crybaby” so fucking bad. This isn’t the moment though, perhaps when it’s something different, like tears of joy because of how much your engagement ring sparkles in the sunlight.

Yeah, he knew before you came right out and said it, have you forgotten who exactly you’ve promised your soul to? Don’t be silly.

After a certain point the sticky kisses become more and more heated, and by the time he reaches your lips he’s pressing your mouths together. Coryo slowly tilts your head to the side, opening up your mouth and lazily sucking your tongue. Like you always do, you start bucking your hips against his crotch in short and subconscious movements. He smirks into the kiss, pulling away to speak.

“I bet I know just the thing to get you all fixed up, huh petal?” He coos, nodding your head for you. “Come on then, up you go. Don’t trip on your way to the bedroom.”

That’s just the start of his well intentioned meanness, that and the spank he gives your ass as you obediently hop up from the couch and speed walk to the bedroom. You’ve gotten so thirsty for him in the months you’ve been together, he’s almost proud.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t to feel your brain leaking out of your ears and Coryo’s pink tongue deep in your puffy pussy.

Your hips are kept pinned to the bed by his nails clawing into your flesh, you’re honestly surprised you haven’t started bleeding but you wouldn’t mind if you did. He jabs his tongue again and you squirm, attempting to kick your legs out on instinct. Coryo tightens his grip on your hips, smacking your inner thighs and digging his nails in your hips even further.

It’s his mission to tear you apart in any way possible, in every way. A small hidden part of you is soothed at the reminder that there are some things you never have to ask for. He already knows, he’s the best like that.

Coryo stops tongue fucking you to spit on your clit, staring all wide eyed and whorish up at you as he gives it little licks. You whine when he doesn’t adjust his slow pace, wishing you were in love with someone who didn’t like teasing you as much as he adored spoiling you rotten.

You ruffle his blonde curls, pouting and having a fit. He smacks your thighs harder and scratches lines down your legs as he purses his lips around your clit. He honest to god somehow laughs as he latches on the swollen bud and firmly sucks. In between sucks, his tongue roughly plays with your now throbbing clit, viciously slapping it around like it wants to beat it up.

“Fuck-fuck-uhhhhhhhhh-you’re gonna make me cum-Daddy-shit, yes-just like that, Daddy, just like that just like that-oh my god, Daddy!”

Your squealing makes him laugh again, and when he registers your slip up, he clutches onto you so hard his nails break skin and blood starts trickling down your body.

He pats the area where your womb is a couple times, a silent ‘Good dove’ that goes straight to your core. You’re lucky you aren’t ovulating right now, or the sheets would be even more soaked than they already are. His eyes narrow at the little pouch on your tummy and there’s the slightest hint of teeth in his sucking, but he backs off to spit on your dripping pussy again.

“Mmm-that’s all sweet pets need to do right? Lie back and drool from every hole for their Daddies?” He asks, nuzzling the patch of pubic hair at the top of your mound and taking a deep whiff.

And you’re so good for him, you don’t even need a warning glare or a fierce hit upside the ass.

“Yes-yes, Daddy-um-um- ‘m your bunny-all for you, Daddy.” You pant as you try to catch your breath.

“Glad you’re smart enough to know that, baby.” Coryo bites the skin over your womb, caressing the indents of his teeth. “Never have to doubt my intelligent little flower, do i?”

“Nuh uh, Daddy.” You shake your head in agreement so fast you get dizzy, and he smiles before bringing his attention back to your warm pussy.

He flattens his tongue and licks fat stripes over your folds like a wild animal giving his mate a tongue bath. Simultaneously meant to induce arousal and bring comfort to his partner. He winks at you several times and regularly darts up to french kiss your aching clit, burrowing his nose so deep in your slutty pussy.

The sensual nature of it has your eyes rolling back, and this time you’re the one being savage, your bedazzled extra long acrylics make a mess of his shoulders. He lets your trembling legs go, keeping you in place by his raw determination to literally eat your heart out. His curls bound and fly as he shakes his head vigorously, pushing your clit and hood back with his thumb so he can focus on slurping your slick from your hole like it’s his job.

“No no no-stop, please-fuck- ‘m gonna make a mess-feels like i have to pee, Daddy- shit shit-no, Daddy wait ‘M GONNA!-”

Your orgasm rudely cuts you off, and you gush on Coryo’s mouth. You always say shit like that when you squirt, but you never know when your boyfriend wants your words to be true. You squirt until you can’t hold yourself up anymore, and you collapse against the bed in a huff. Coryo laps up your release with his signature pleased grin, he’s so glad to put you in your place and give you what you deserve. Trust him, petal, he’ll never fail you when it comes to that.

You don’t speak, you’re still twitching and coming down from your euphoric high. Coryo lays his hands on either side of your head and cages you in, hovering above you and cooing loads of praises and sweet nothings into your sweaty hairline.

“How about it? Feeling any better, dove?” He gingerly delivers the question with a loose hand around your throat and a quick squeeze to your tit.

You lean into the barely there pressure on your throat, too out of it to be embarrassed, “Uh huh, thank you, Daddy. ‘Love you.”

“Oh you are so very welcome, mellilla (little honey). Daddy loves you too, more than your bunny brain could ever imagine, don’t you ever forget that.”

It's 2 am by the time you’ve come back to earth. Coryo makes you pancakes with your favorite strawberry syrup after you eagerly show him your appreciation in the shower. He wipes your mouth clean when you’re done with the star shaped pieces. You fall asleep during an elimination on MasterChef, but he’ll rewind it for you tomorrow.

if you liked this, consider leaving a tip or commissioning me !

[oweninadaydream]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐭 𝟏 || 𝐅.𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : Say Don't Go (Taylor's version) (From The Vault) or 4 times you say 'I love you' and Finnick says nothing back.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 : Finnick Odair x reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 2K

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 : angst/fluffy ending (in part 2), (not really) unrequited love?, insecure reader, jealousy, TW: sexual exploitation (second story).

𝓪/𝓷 : This is my first time writing for Finnick and I'm so exited for you guys to read it!!! Hope you enjoy this fic :) Part two is already posted!!! You can find it here. If there are any mistakes I'm sorry , English is not my first language.

𝟣. 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒 

The quietness of the night was only being disturbed by the sound of crickets and mockingbirds. The cold breeze was the only thing keeping you awake. Well, that and Finnick. You were seated next to him on the porch of your house which was right next to his. Three years had passed since you won the 67th Hunger Games and you still weren't used to the gloomy sight that was Victors Village, especially not at night, when the solitude and darkness of the streets made you remember things you thought (or hoped) were long gone in your memory but that deep down you knew would always haunt you, until the day you died.

Finnick scooted closer in order to share his blanket with you "Stop being so prideful, I can see you shaking" he scolded you for being so stubborn. " I did it on purpose, I just wanted to make you cuddle me" you joked, as it was normal in your friendship.

He had been your mentor the year you were reaped , you got along well but didn't become that close then. You knew that those were his second games as a mentor and you could feel that he wasn't emotionally prepared to bond with you just to see you die days later. Still, he prepared you the best way he knew and was always kind towards you. After you emerged victorious from that nightmare, the Capitol decided to profit off of your charm ; you were too young, scared and lost, just like Finnick once had been (and still was). That's when he took you under his wing , and you would forever feel grateful for that.

He was your rock, your light within the dark, your safe person and he saw you as his happy place, someone he could rely on, his partner in crime and the person with whom he shared his deepest thoughts, his dreams, his nightmares and hopes for an utopian future. Finding each other seemed something simply destined to be. You needed each other in ways that no one else could wrap their head around.

Despite having that special and heartwarming relationship with him, you wanted more. You were utterly and madly in love with him. Your infatuation had begun during training and only grew stronger after he approached you after the games. The thing between you was so fragile, so special that you had never thought of confessing your love. The possibility of driving him away caused your heart a kind of ache worse than any stab received back in the Arena. Your feelings felt selfish, how could you want more? Your greedy passion would ruin everything (or so you thought), so you settled for what you had.

On the inside, you knew he wasn't the kind of man that would dismiss your feelings rudely and that he would continue to consider you his friend , but it just wouldn't be the same, and seeing your dynamic change in such a way would be a more fatal fate than dying at the games.

" The way they're shining, how beautiful" he quietly mumbled loud enough for you to hear. "I know, the stars look unreal tonight" you agreed while staring completely mesmerized to the night sky. "I was looking at your eyes" you turned to see that he wasn't in fact stargazing like you were. You were out of words. He was usually flirty and he never ran out of lovely words to dedicate to you, but you still reacted as if it were the first time. "Charming as always, dear" you replied as you rested your head on his chest. He moved so you could be more comfortable and you wanted to stop time at that exact moment.

" Thank you for always being there for me" he said in a more serious tone. " You know that I'd do anything for you. Are you okay? Where is this coming from?" you asked with a worried frown adorning your face. "These past few days apart have been rough and it made me appreciate you more" he confessed timidly. How privileged were you to be able to see him in his most vulnerable state. The moon, his hands holding yours, the heat you felt on your face, it was simply too much.

"FINNICK!" a blood-curdling scream came on the scene, startling you both. He quickly stood, as he had already identified the person behind such a yell. "ANNIE?!?!? WHAT'S WRONG?!?!?"

Annie was the victor of the last Hunger Games. She had been mentored by Finnick just like you, but unlike with you, Finnick had rapidly grown fond of her ever since they first met. You knew you shouldn't have thought too much of it, but your mind was your worst enemy. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining a very near future where he chose her over you , leaving you behind and all alone in this world. You liked her : she was kind, delicate but strong and very beautiful, but for those very same reasons you were becoming jealous of her and her chances of getting together with your best friend.

Annie appeared in front of your porch wrapped in a blanket and trembling while sobbing. " They're gonna get me" "Hey hey Annie c'mon, no one's gonna hurt you anymore, you know I'll make sure of it" How caring was Finnick, it was just natural for him to become the protector in every situation. "O-okay" Annie said with little confidence in her voice "Would you stay with me tonight? I had a really bad nightmare" her doe eyes had the reflection of the full moon in them ; it truly was a breath-stealing sight "Sure thing darling, I'll be there in a second, wait for me at home, all right? It's okay " his soothing voiced and calmed her down enough to return to her house by herself.

He turned around to look at you "I'm sorry, I have to go" "I know, Finnick, it's okay" you assured him, even though you were shocked by the term of endearment used for her, as it took Finnick quite a while to refer to you as sweetheart, honey or your favorite, love.

What was wrong with you? That poor girl had just got out of the games and was terrified out of her mind after dreaming about a traumatic experience she had recently been through (just like you did in you day) and the only thing you could think about was how jealous you were because she was being comforted by Finnick in such an intimate and caring way, because she had his full attention and she would be the one lured to sleep by his calloused hands running through her hair that night. You were not thinking logically and you lost control of your actions.

"Hey" you shouted to catch his attention, as he had already begun to leave towards Annie's house "I love you Finn, I just wanted you to know" you confessed as your froze in place . You told each other how much you loved each other all the time, but it had never been like this : not under that light, not with all that sentiment in your eyes and definitely not with such a voice tone. It was clearly a confession and you could't believe what you had just done.

He stared and smiled, transmitting you his appreciation for such kind words and he continued the way to his destination. Oh fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck. He hadn't interpreted your words as you spilling your guts about your feelings, it was just a friendly 'I love you' to him. Annie was perfect for him, you could never give him that sweet innocent love you believed Finnick deserved. The anxiety quickly transformed into anguish and you went back inside to prepare yourself for a night full of tears and stupid hypothetical scenarios about them. About him.

𝟤. 𝐼𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒

Looking around the enormous gardens you couldn't spot a single person you genuinely cared about. This Capitol party, as the previous ones, were filled with members of high society that gazed at you and the rest of victors as if you were exotic wild animals.

Reaching your secret hiding spot, you felt yourself letting your guard down. Even if distracted, you noticed the warm hand on your shoulder. You spun on your heels to identify the person behind that unexpected and yet comforting touch. Of course, Finnick Odair. Your confident, your best friend, your protector and the love of your life (role that's he's unaware of). "Shit Finnick, don't do that!" you playfully reprimanded him while smacking his chest. He pretended to be hurting but ended up laughing at your little tantrum.

"Wow, Cinna has outdone himself, you look charming my dear" he said as he gently took your hand to make you spin and admire the fine clothes you were dressed in that evening. Based on the pink blush that adorned his cheeks you quickly arrived to the conclusion that he was far from being sober and you didn't blame him, these events were unbearable if not intoxicated. "You're not bad yourself, Odair" .

The two of you danced, talked, drank more than you'd be able to remember the next day and flirted, a lot. Your heart couldn't take one more touch nor one more compliment from this man . "There's something you're not telling me, I can see it in your pretty face" he commented while hugging you from behind. He'd always known everything about you, so that remark was not surprising. Still, your heart started beating at an alarming speed and you felt the sweat coming out from your shaky hands.

What if you told him? Based on the spark in his eyes during the party you could only assume he was at least interested in you as more than a friend. You were intoxicated and wrapped between his arms, what if you just told him? "I... I love... you..." you mumbled while closing your eyes as if that would make you invisible to him. The deafening silence brought out your worst fear : rejection. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. You've fucked up real bad this time. You turned around to face him and get this done as fast as possible.

That's when you realized : he hadn't heard you confessing your most cherished secret. You had an opportunity to go back in time, to act as if nothing had happened. You couldn't risk losing him. You locked eyes with him and Finnick tilted his head to the side in drunken confusion as he hadn't caught on to what you had so shyly whispered. Smiling sympathetically you shook your head as if to not give importance to what had been previously said. He didn't give too much though to your dismissive answer. "Would you like another drink, love?" His characteristic smirk accompanied the proposal perfectly, inviting you to give in ; as always, you couldn't deny him anything.

Before you had the chance to approach the drinks table , one of Finnick's regular clients grabbed him by the waist and whispered something into his right ear. His eyes suddenly darkened and his once relaxed features stiffened significantly. You already knew what was about to happen. You were no stranger to the services President Snow forced him to provide to Panem's elite. In fact, you were another of the poor miserable souls in charge of satisfying every desire of anyone who was wealthy enough to afford the luxury of laying with a victor.

Telling the wealthy woman to wait at their usual meeting place, he shook her off. Finnick approached you, feeling guilty and not wanting to part from your side. After a single chaste kiss on your left cheek, he left in the same direction as his client. You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding and tried to prevent the tears from falling. As common as this was, it never got easier for neither of you.

Later that night you found yourself in a similar position as Finnick. The man caressing your body didn't pay any attention to the way you were spacing out and you felt thankful for that. Your mind was elsewhere, replaying over and over again the moment you almost told Finnick how in love you were with him and wondering what would have happened if you had had the courage to repeat those three words just a little bit louder . But it doesn't matter, not anymore. He was drunk and so were you, nothing sincere would have come out of his mouth at that time and you highly doubt sober him would have corresponded your feelings anyway. If only things were different.

[bumblesimagines]

nice bedhead.

why don't you join me in the shower?

- Finnick Odair

nice bedhead.

why don't you join me in the shower?

i really like the plot and backstory for this... hm.

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

You gazed at the window from the comfort of the bed, listening to the comforting sound of the ocean waves rolling in and inhaling the salty air wafting in from the open window. You enjoyed sleeping with the window open at night ever since you won the 68th Hunger Games. There was always a second of panic in the mornings. A split moment when your body awoke from a long night filled with nightmares and your brain hadn't yet caught up with your surroundings. That split second of dread and fear that coming home had been a dream and you were still in the arena always made your heart skip a beat. But then the sea breeze would seep in and fill your nose with the smell of home. 

Your eyes dragged away from the window when the muscular arms around your waist tightened and a nose buried itself in your neck. You were pulled closer into a bare chest and Finnick's face buried further into the nape of your neck, your ears picking up on the shakey exhale that left his lips. His soft bronze curls tickled your cheek but you remained still, giving him time to fully awaken and gain awareness of his surroundings. He needed his reminder too.

You'd known Finnick as many things throughout your life. He'd been the neighbor's son who'd bring over the day's catch whenever your father fell ill. He'd been the boy in your class who had everyone wanting to be his friend with his charming smile and then had everyone on the edge of their seats when he'd been reaped into the 65th games. And finally, he became your fellow Victor when you returned home from your own agonizing time in the games. But even then, even with such close history as neighbors and former classmates, you scarcely called him a good friend. 

You had always held Finnick at arm's length. He was the sweet pretty neighbor who lived across the stone path, the popular classmate whose eyes never strayed far from you, the fourteen-year-old who'd survived the games and embraced you the moment he saw you as if frightened he'd never get to see you again. His behavior had always been strange. With a flock of followers and admirers always at his feet, he'd always been eager to befriend you, not that you ever allowed it. Your parents laughed about it, cooing to give the boy a chance, that he meant well and only wanted a friend. Your teachers did similarly but you couldn't shake off the envious looks when Finnick sat beside you during lunch or when his hand would be the first to raise when you needed a sparring partner.

It was strange. He was strange.

You still remembered how his face paled when your name was pulled from the bowl. The way he avoided being in your presence during your stay in the Capitol and left Mags to solely train you. The way he whispered in your ear all the weaknesses your district partner had before you had to leave for the arena. The look of relief on his face when you returned that promptly fell when you lashed out at everyone and anyone who tried to help. But he stuck by. Always lingering, always checking up on you. Until you finally had enough of the nightmares and wanted an escape for the night. What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into a common occurrence when you or Finnick wanted to forget about the games or the Capitol.

So, there you were. With Finnick Odair in your bed.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked softly into your ear, voice hoarse and still soaked in exhaustion. His arms remained around you, holding you closely but not constricting you. Finnick was a quick learner. One of the many reasons he'd always been top of the class. His observant eyes and quick mind had taught him how to handle you, how to ensure you wouldn't lock him out of your life again. 

"Fine." You responded in a murmur and shifted around in his arms to face him. He leaned back slightly for wiggle room before pressing himself against you once again and pressing a quick peck to your forehead. Who knew an Odair could be so clingy? Your eyes lifted to his tousled locks. It suited him better than the pristine, perfectly combed style. "Nice bedhead."

He made a noise of amusement and moved his hand up to your face, pressing his palm against your cheek and running his thumb over your skin. He smiled, a genuine dorky smile unlike the flirtatious one he put on for the people of the Capitol, and bumped his nose against yours. "Why don't you join me in the shower?"

"Because I know you'll start something you'll want to finish in bed." Your answer made him snort and he closed the distance to properly kiss you. He smiled against your lips and rolled on top of you, pushing himself up onto his forearms and giving you a cheeky grin. 

"Then I'll start something in bed we can finish in the shower."

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

Woven from the same thread

[Part 2] [Masterlist]

Summary: Coriolanus Snow hungers for control, what will happen when he gives up it up for his own good? What will happen when he finaly meets his match?

Pairing: Sub!Coriolanus Snow x Dom!reader

Warnings: gaslight, gatekeeper, girl boss; dumbification; Coriolanus Snow, mentioned of death and bombings, manipulations.

A/N: purely an excuse to write for submissive Coriolanus. I love me a controlling obsessive man, but I love him more on his knees crying.

Coriolanus Snow who decided getting a cute rich girlfriend would help him in life. He wouldn't love her, he'd discard her immediately the moment he managed to get into university with the plinth prize or if he simply found someone better.

Coriolanus Snow who saw you and your sweet smile and charming innocent eyes and decided that you were going to be his personal piggy bank.

Coriolanus Snow who tries charming you with pretty words and gentlemanly actions, providing as much as he can muster with his unexistable budget. An occasional white rose or a pretty origami would be thrown your way, but that's as far as he could afford to go.

Coriolanus Snow who realizes too late you are a snake like him.

Coriolanus Snow who gapes in horror at you in your lavish room at your parent's penthouse after you reveal it all to him. Telling him how you saw his thinning frame and hollow cheeks, the acidy breath from hunger and the lack of presents or money spent on you had given him away. It was all a hypothesis but his reacting confirmed it.

Coriolanus Snow who is frozen in place, his deepest fear of getting closer to someone and having them find out of his poverty hidden in plain sight made his pale skin loose all semblence of color.

Coriolanus Snow who is on the verge of dropping on his knees and begging(he should) but you run a hand along his jaw and propose a deal. He is the smartest boy in the Academy, presentable and well mannered, he will continue to be your boyfriend and you will keep your mouth shut and wallet open for him as long as he plays by your whistle. It was left unspoken that if he stepped out of line you would air his dirty laundry with no hesitation.

Coriolanus Snow who becomes your personal dog, no matter how much he hates it. You wrote him a check to buy his family some food and pay his rent, as a starting sum, with one of your credit cards.

Having a pretty smart boyfriend was a dream come true for you. Having said boy and holding an unimaginable power over his every move was all you ever wanted. You and him shared the same poison, the same thirst for power, you knew that. But he hadn't, and that is what brought him to his demise.

He lost the battle. He lost the war.

Coriolanus Snow who does all the stereotypical "perfect boyfriend" things. He carries your books, opens the doors for you, pulls your chair out, kisses your forehead sweetly and holds your hand. He was perfect, at performing in public at least. Behind closed doors he still had his bite, no matter how good he could act his ego got the best of him.

You would break him soon enough

You started it small.

Phase 1:

Giving him small commands first in public, where he couldn't let his bravado fall. Telling him to wait for you, to not move, to lift that, do that, etc. Later you did it when there were people of your age or older around. Clearly showing off the power you had over Coriolanus, he had to obey you, his families apartment depended on it. He wanted to snap and not do it, to show he is in fact his own master, but how will he explain to granma' am and Tigris that they had to live on the street because his girlfriend/sugar mommy was too bossy?

Coriolanus Snow who was left to marinate in his own embarrassment in silence, feeling all eyes on him as people's perception of him change. From a proud heir to one of the most important business for the Capitol to a lovesick boyfriend who was his girlfriends servant, with a smile on his face worst of all. He was starting to get used to it. This had been going on for months now, the habit was starting to get rooted deeply.

Phase 2:

It was still a small jump but you started to give him shorter orders, one word commands, expecting him to know what to do- and he did. You'd say "open" and any door would be trust wide open and held for you. You'd say "hold" and thrust whatever you are holding to him without a spare glance. Maybe in the past he would have thrown the expensive purse or books while looking you dead in the eyes like a statement but now he simply waited for you patiently.

Coriolanus Snow who actually threw your books in a fit of rage once and ended up penniless for a month. He had to come to your house timidly after receiving no calls on the private phone you had bought him and no reply as he blew up your line.(he could only call your number and couldn't add or remove it. who else did he need to contact?)

Coriolanus who had to face greater humiliation than what he was used to, as he walked across the private party thrown by your parents, looking for you. The pitiful looks he got wobbling around in his academy uniform, even outside school as he asked around for you. People must have seen him as a kicked puppy, looking for his owner. It wasn't completely false.

Coriolanus Snow who found you in a secret room pointed to him by your mother who had cooed at him pitifully, used to seeing him waddle after you almost daily. You were sitting on large chair behind a wooden desk, looking over some documents. Your gaze snapped to him as he entereed, the faint yellow light from the lamp illuminated his face and made the miserable look in his eyes and blush in his cheeks ever more evident.

He had gotten to eat so good, first class meals, you'd even send a private chef over to his house to cook for him when he was especially good. He had gotten greedy and now going back to slurping bean juice felt unimaginable.

"Your rent is looking ever the higher. Its not looking good."

He hadn't(didnt) want to think about this as he slept on a cold matress, their heating had run out. He missed the taste of luxury. He would do anything to get it back.

"I made a mistake, y/n."

He knew he should do more. He knew you'd like to see him beg and squirm but he didn't think he could handle any more of this if he did. He had felt so much pressure, so such stress to find some food, to worry about rent, to hide the eyebags under his eyes, the humiliation from tonight was almost too much.

"Come here, Coriolanus."

Your voice rang out cold and commanding, but never demanding. You had too much power over him to demand. You pulled the chair back and it's wheels creaked, you put a hand on your thigh in a wordless command. Coriolanus wobbled a bit shakily, trying to maintain some form of dignity as he walked to you. He came to a halt between your legs, looking down at you and creating a shadow over your form. It should have made him feel better, to be in one way on top, but it didn't, he couldn't delude himself anymore, he knew he had no control.

What had you done to him?

"Kneel"

It took him a few seconds but he dropped slowly to his knees, one leg at a time until he was at eyelevel with your knees, sitting on his hinges, since he knew he'd be down here for a while. He stared stubbornly into your eyes, his pale blue eyes shone almost angelically paired with his pink lips. Your pretty puppy, it almsot made you smile. It almost made you forgive him, almost.

"You disobeyed me, Coriolanus. I told you there would be consequences."

"I know, y/n, i know, i wont do it again. I promise."

"I dont believe you."

You say and pick the document you had been reviewing before. You bring them close enough so he can read them too. They were charts and documents of increasing rent money for the apartment building his penthouse was in, the wages of the workers where Tigris worked, a paper with the retirement money his grandma got, paper with the money the country gave him as a compensation since he had lost both of his parents. All the money that his family got and had to spend.

Coriolanus who skims the papers but even the breif look of the numbers told him what he already knew.

He had no future without you. The Hunger games had gotten canceled this year since the death of Felix, the presidents son, the Plinth prize had gotten withdrawn. He had nothing, he could do nothing.

"I gave you everything, Coriolanus. Was your pride worth your future?"

He feels his gaze get hazy, the panic was starting to set in. He had come here to get you back, sure that he would be able to do it, but now he could almost taste your rejection. He was starting to get scared and panicked. He needed you.

"It wasnt- it isnt. Y/n, I made a mistake, plase forgive me. I wont do it again."

He shuffles closer to you subconsciously, looking up at you as his voice grew hoarse. His pride long gone, thrown out the moment he saw the consequences. You place a soft hand on his hair, gripping it gently and he feels the golden ring on your finger, the one with your family's crest made from pure gold, rest heavily on his scalp. You tilt his face up to look at you.

"Beg. Show me how sorry you are."

His mouth opened immediately, no hesitation to beg for you. Maybe he should feel shame to be thrust into this position but all he felt was hope. If you were willing to hear him out it means there is some chance he could get you back.

"Im sorry, y/n, im so sorry. I was stupid, i was greedy, i was arrogant. I wont do it again. Im yours, please"

He hadn't realized he had started crying until his tears pooled and fell, warm and salty, against his lips and on the material of the chair, his long blond lashes clump togetger and his lips redden, the tear streaks down his cheeks and neck glisten in the light and he looks like a painting.

You decide you like him like this best, begging at your feet and crying for your love.

You coo at him sympatheticly even as a smile tugs the corners of your lips. You caress his beautiful locks of hair and wipe his tears away only to lick your fingers.

"My poor baby, no need to cry. Im here now, you remembered where you belong, its okay now, you are okay now."

His breath grows labored and his face twists in pain as more tears follow, he burries his face into the bare skin of your inner thighs and sobs loudly. All the stress had caught up with him. The responsibilities, the fear, the hunger, the thought that he'd lose his anchor, the thought he'd lose you.

Your guidance, your attention, your love. He didn't need to worry anymore, he didn't need to fret and plot to stay at the top, simply being known as your lover was enough. You were the second richest family in Panem, after the President. Coriolanus held much more power than he ever had on his own. People respected him more and he got the cushiony life he had always dreamt of.

He was safe.

His family was safe.

You let him cry, cooing calming words of reassurance as you caress the nape of his neck and the curls of his hair. His big shaky hands envelope your thighs and he holds onto them for dear life.

You knew he would come crawling back once he saw that you meant business and weren't bluffing. It had taken him longer and you respect his resilience but he had funaly come to his senses and back into your arms. A part of you felt a pang of empathy for him, for the poor boy underneath all the masks and facades he had on to survive in this world. You knew when it came down to it he would have murdered him, to remain the shell of the person he is. You don't feel bad for Snow. You felt bad for Coriolanus.

Poor, caring, driven Coriolanus, who might have been good if not for the poison and hunger and fear he had been forced to shoulder.

But you are here now, so he wouldn't have to worry anymore. He can be good. You'll make sure he is your good boy.

Phase 0:

Coriolanus is a smart boy, he probably could predict all the steps of manipulation you had come up with, what he probably hadn't anticipated were the rewards. The additional money, delicious food, new clothes, you'd even found a better job for Tigris (not good enough to pay for the rent ofc). The small touches you'd offered him and the lack of discrimination against his poverty. You'd treated him good and given him a lot.

How could a boy who's only had things taken from him begin to expect anything else? The mentality of take or lose had kept him alive this long, but maybe you wanted to give. He had shared with you in a night of vulnerabilities about his family. How his mother and unborn sister died, hiw his father died, how he was left with only his grandma and Tigris almost broke to survive.

Coriolanus had a lot of potential to be your loyalest dog or biggest enemy depending on how you let him flourish.

That's why you had bought him a phone to call only you, made him dependant only on you, talked with your parents and together you'd managed to cancel the Hunger games, throwing all the district tributes back in their homes, far far away. Especially Lucy Gray, the songbird who was on her way to charm Coriolanus. How you'd agreed the money from the plinth prize should be used on fixing the damage done by the rebelion bombings.

Coriolanus wasn't a good person.

You were simply better at being bad.

[whillywisp]

Seeing a lot of talks about finnick as a dad/doting husband during pregnancy on the fyp and I must contribute to the conversation 🌱 (warnings: it's long and so fluffy you're gonna die). Part 1.

Part 2 ☁︎

The thing about Finnick is that he has a lot of love to give to anyone who would take it. His heart is overflowing with it, shining cerulean with it. So of course fatherhood came to him as easily as breathing—

Wrong. Have you seen that walking talking ball of anxiety, love and autism?

The day you tell him you're pregnant he passes the fuck out. On the floor. And when he wakes up he cries for an hour straight, thanking you enough times with kisses pressed into every inch of your skin he could reach that the words don't even sound like English anymore. He's so grateful, so fucking grateful and terrified but above all, completely and irrevocably in love with you.

Throughout the pregnancy, he's as paranoid as it gets to the point you have to beg him to please leave you alone and no, Finnick the baby won't be hurt if i eat too fast please breathe and let me breathe but it's all from a place of love. He's lost too much, almost everything in his life. The few people he could still keep were precious to him and he was not going to let any of them forget that least of all his babies. Or baby.

Finnick talks to the baby a lot. Asking the most bizarre question to your bump as if he actually expected a tiny, baby's voice to answer him. He was constantly on about something new and his favourite topic to talk about was whatever his new hyperfixation was and you just nodded and smiled because of course the baby wants to know how to do an alpine stitch! But it was so endearing and relieving to see him finally be happy, finally find a purpose, even if it was to just talk nonstop to your belly. He deserves this, these little pockets of happiness.

And one of his greatest happiness was taking care of you. Circling back to the fact that he starts hyperventilating when his lover so much as sneezes too hard, the hellscape that was pregnancy scared him. No, fuck it, it terrified him. So he did what he always did and loved to do and banned you from anything and everything that needed physical exertion. Chores of any kind were out of order. You were on a healthy diet of four meals a day and of course they included all your cravings that he always presented to you no questions asked thank you very much and you had to take naps, multiple of them, all with his presence as a requirement (you were sure those were just an excuse to cuddle you but you would rather take up another round of hunger games than call him out on it). He attended every appointment, had an alarm set for all the prenatal meds, and always a kiss for the belly and your lips just so you knew that this was it for him. You and your baby were the very centre of his universe and this was him orbiting you both. And you couldn't help but be grateful that you had him to love and cherish just as he did you.

And your favourite way of telling him you loved him was letting him take control over the one thing you knew he loved: baby shopping. With all due respect, this is the type of guy who bought baby shoes when he was eighteen with no baby in sight because look at how tiny this is it's so cute *big sparkly green eyes.* But it's particularly endearing watching him waltz around the store, arms full of onesies and plushies and you kind of just stand there, unable to do anything because what the fuck were you supposed to do at nine months pregnant and married to a man who you *checks notes* gifted a day where he could buy anything he wanted as a birthday present?

I promise you the answer was not 'go into an early labour the second he dumped the shopping bags in the living room' but who am I to say anything?

The baby coming two whole weeks early did not sit well with his anxiety. He was a mess, a complete and utter mess but he was also the most precious angel on this planet so seeing him holding back tears of fear so he could be there for you and hold you tight, so tight, because he was scared he would lose you broke your heart too. While the pain of the labour was bad, knowing he was close, holding you tight as he pressed gentle kisses everywhere, to cater to everything you needed, was enough to realise, he was the one. And you were going to fight through hell for him.

Such a wretched thing, love, you thought to yourself as you felt him shake beside you through the pain and haze, to ask you to hope against hope that the strain on your strength and your fading string of fate would persevere despite it all.

But you did. You survived and so did your precious little baby girl, and so did the last pieces of Finnick's soul, despite it all.

The first time he holds his tiny, tiny baby in his arms, something in his brain just clicks (or maybe his frontal lobe was finally fully developed because of course his baby picked the day before his birthday to make her own entry on planet earth) but whatever it was, it was perfect. His entire world narrowed down to the squirming little angel in his arms and he couldn't help but feel his heart leave his chest for the second time in his life to become hers. She fit right into the crook of his arms, the space in his neck. She fit into his life like another piece of puzzle that he never knew he was look for.

She was his little angel, his little girl. The person he never knew he fought through whole wars for but now, holding her against his chest as he watched you both sleep, he knew this is what he was meant to do. To love, to love, to love. For the sake of it. Simply because he could. Simply because he was alive and it was good enough reason to love with his entire being.

Part 1 because I don't exactly know if you people will like it enough to want more.

[usetheeauthor]

The Yandere Knight Wants Me As His Last Dying Wish 🥀 (MDNI +18)

(Teaser)

King’s Knight!Yandere!Coriolanus Snow x Nun!Virgin!Reader

A/N: This is kinda beauty and the beast inspired although really dark. But im currently working on it. Snow is going to be an absolute menace and simp for the reader.

Summary: Coriolanus isn’t too fond that the young nun, who once took care of him as a child during the dark days, has her attention taken away by others. An unhealthy obsession for you to belong to him and no one else plagues him and with the “flower lungs” a.k.a. Hanahaki disease shortening his lifespan and slowly deteriorating his mind, kidnapping you in what could possibly be his final days doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Tw/Warnings/Tags: SMUT like really filthy smut (its a surprise 🤭), age gap (coriolanus is 18-19, reader is late 20s), DUBCON/NONCON situations, some sejanus plith x reader, sort’ve adopted highbottom!reader, loss of virginity, dom!corio with some switching, corio has a mommy kink, extremely toxic yandere traits, blood and violence, graphic language

(Excerpt)

Coriolanus pinches the bloodied flower petal between his thumb and index finger, studying it profoundly. What an enigma the human body is. This single rose petal had been produced right from his own body. From his own bloodied mouth. At his fingertips rests his fate. Coriolanus knew it well. After all, it was the same curse that ate away at his grandfather then years later his father.

How could he have been so foolish to have let his guard down? To think for a second that he wouldn’t fall victim to the same disease that coursed through the veins of the men in the Snow family?

He could feel his rage burning so deeply within the pits of his stomach, he’s almost convinced he’ll spontaneously combust. Instead, he crushes the rose petal in a closed fist, eyes narrowing in you and Sejanus’s direction.

You don’t seem to understand the pain you’re putting him through. Or maybe…maybe it isn’t that you don’t understand but rather you don’t care! Despite all his best efforts to show you how much he cares, you turn your back on him! For village scum!

His condition is your doing! The underlining deformity will chip away at the perfect image he’d created for himself all because you couldn’t just stay loyal to him and only him. Now instead of focusing his time with Lucy Gray, Coriolanus’s physiological, biological—even mental—state is dependent on your compliance to remain his property. Even if it meant locking you away from the world, you will learn to accept that fact.

Hmm. Locking you away from the world? Actually… that thought sounds quite enticing. And you’d seldom reject any form of punishment if it is in your best interest to pay for your sins like a good little lamb should.

[luxbub]

100% finnick would massage your feet and your shoulders and he’s GOOD at it

I cant stop thinking about that side of finnick, i mean he is the king of massages!!

And especially after a stressful day and you come home as if like the whole world is weighing on your shoulders, finnick would massage you SO GOOD. He just can’t help it, with your lips in a little frown and slumped shoulders, he just has to do something about it.

So he sits you both down on the couch, gently pulls your legs into his lap and starts kneading the skin on your feet. He slowly trails his hands higher and higher up to your calf and something about his hands working at the tension in your legs makes you whimper at his touch.

Maybe some time after, you would turn to lay on your stomach and finnick’s thighs would go on either side of your hips, as his hands start trailing across the taunt muscles of your back, the tension melting away.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Fire and Smoke (District 12!Reader x Haymitch Abernathy)

Requested by @sleepyt0ast for Being a District 12 Mentor in the Games and being the only one who Haymitch actually trusts - and anonymous for  Im super interested in your idea of reader being a District 12 Mentor and being the only person ol lovely Haymitch trusts 👀👀 i wld like to request at least one fic pls sir 🙏🙏

Figure this'd be part one. Let me know if anyone wants to see it continue!

It's hard to trust anyone when you've gone through what you have.

Still... if anyone even comes close to trusted, it's Haymitch.

Sure, he's a surly drunk who you still haven't forgiven for leaving you for dead, but... he's all you've got.

You had offered to bring Haymitch with you to the Capitol when you were allowed to move there, but the man sneered at you and refused.

Whatever. He's the one drinking his life away. And though you can't forget what you went through, it all seems a little bit farther away when you don't have to live every day in the oppressive environment of District 12.

It really is the worst part of the year, having to go back to 12 and mentor one of the kids from your district, particularly because of the natural disadvantages your district has.

Coal production ends up practically poisoning the lungs of the Seam kids, meaning that they generally can't exert themselves as much due to the terrible hacking cough and breathing issues they develop. Kids from the inner part of the district have it a little easier, but they generally don't spend much time developing useful physical skills.

That might be why you desperately angle for that color commentator job Caesar Flickerman's been hinting at - it would exempt you from mentoring the kids.

Which basically means no more having to watch them die and know it was directly your fault.

But, there's no such luck this year.

So, about a week before the yearly live Reaping, you board the train to District 12. There's a Capitol outfit for the day of, just so you can prepare to broadcast your allegiance - it's safer to toe the line. You've only heard what they do to punish the Victors that get a little too uppity, so you have to be the perfect model Victor for them.

Haymitch greets you at the station, surprisingly. He scoffs a little at your simple button down and slacks. (You try to spend as much money as you can in 12 when you're there, and it's just impractical to dress in fancy Capitol clothes when it's not a necessity)

"Expected you to be wearing some sort of ant's nest on your head." he says dryly. (he's not off - muttation insects were popular a few months back as a statement wear piece - you never really participated in that one)

"Expected you to be drunk." you say back. "Didn't expect you to be here."

Haymitch shrugs, slipping one hand in his pocket and offering his arm to you.

You frown. "Why are you being so nice?"

Haymitch laughs at that, though there's little mirth in it. "Figured you owe me a drink since you never came to visit this year."

"Hmmm." you grunt. "What's the real reason? I haven't known you to get this simpering just for booze. Greasy Sae cut you off?"

Haymitch sneers. "Nah. Sae and I got an understanding during Games season."

Finally he stops as he reaches your place in the Victor's Village, simply tromping in after you. "Actually, I heard you were planning on, uh... not coming back."

You choose not to ask how he heard it. There's all sorts of privileges a Victor can get if they're careful about keeping quiet. (or, like Haymitch, getting a reputation as a drunk who can't be believed anyway).

"So, I figured that you wouldn't mind taking over for me fully these Games. Since you're leaving me in the lurch."

"Screw you, Haymitch." you snarl. In a way, it's nice to speak plainly and with vulgarity, neither of which is particularly enjoyed in the Capitol. "I'm not doing your dirty work."

Haymitch laughs. "Well, worth a shot. I'll probably be drunk anyway."

You allow yourself to chuckle. It's not funny, none of this is, but at least you can try to lose yourself in the mundane and the stupid.

Haymitch pulls you close into a hug, and for a moment you can feel the both of you letting your guard down.

"How about we don't talk about the Games until we get back on that train and see what we're working with, yeah?" Haymitch sighs.

You nod, briefly just enjoying the hug, and the little caught breath Haymitch gives when you allow yourself to bury your face in his neck.

"Alright, alright." Haymitch huffs, pulling away. He looks at you and you just see the weariness etched on his face. "I'm not in the mood for catching up, so let's just find something to eat. I'd offer you some booze, but I got to stock up for the Reaping."

You frown a little at that, but with your luggage stowed, Haymitch just throws an arm around you and leads you away.

And although this feels like new behavior, you allow him to. Because it feels safe, next to him.

However much you know that safety is nothing but a lie...

[undercoveravenger]

In Your Arms

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Male Reader

Requested: Yes

Request(s): “I heard you wanted HungerGames and came running 🏃‍♀️ Alright so it’s after the book series and Finnick and reader are finally living the life they want and obviously Finnick is alive and well because fuck that he deserved so much better. Finnick isn’t on his capital diet and he has a little fat on his body and reader loves it and always touches it but Finnick gets insecure because he thinks reader hates it.” + “Can I request a finnick x male reader with angst and comfort where they comfort each other after the quarter quell?” 

A/N: Combining these two requests since they seemed like they could fit together well

—--

For the first time since the revolution, Finnick wakes up alone. He is cold - the damp sand at his back has long since lost its warmth - and freezing water laps at his legs as he jolts upright. His first instinct is that he’s back in the Arena - that something, someone, is coming after him. He scrambles to his feet, sand sucking his feet down in a way that feels claustrophobic rather than the way it normally grounds him and the cold rain plasters his hair to his face.

Thunder booms in the distance, the sound echoing the canons that haunt his nightmares and sending him further into his panic. He’s jerky, out of practice in a way that he can normally take comfort in but now only serves to make him feel all the more on edge. He could see shadows flickering in his peripherals, tree branches and whispering grasses coalescing into hunters, other tributes just out of sight and beyond his perception though just close enough for him to feel like a fish being hunted by a heron.

As he struggles to regain his balance he realizes that he is alone, the indent you had left in the sand beside him long abandoned. His heart stops in his chest, feeling suddenly like he’s had the air kicked out of him - if you were gone, did that mean you were…? No. No, you couldn’t be. If you were dead-

“Finn?” Your voice snaps Finnick out of his spiral almost instantly and he whirls to face you, a massive smile breaking across his lips as he stumbles up the beach toward you. 

“Where were you?” He gasps, tucking his head into your shoulder as he throws himself into your arms, unable to even pretend to care as he knocks whatever you’d been carrying out of your grasp.

His nerves start to settle as you clutch him close to your chest, arms curled tight around him. “I’m sorry,” the words rush out of you quickly as you realize what he must’ve been thinking, “I’m sorry Finnick. I woke up and it looked like you were cold so I went to get blankets from the cabin. I meant to be back before you woke up and then it started raining and it took me longer to get back-” You trailed off as you took in his state, pulling back just far enough to look at him, “God, you’re freezing. C’mon, Finn, let’s get you home and warmed up before you get sick. I’ll come back for the blankets later, when it’s not raining.”

Finnick allows himself to be tugged along after you, stumbling over the slight hills in the sand as he follows you back to your shared cabin at the other end of the cove. He’s still a little out of it as the front door swings shut behind the two of you, but he has enough presence of mind to toe off his shoes and follow you into your bedroom. 

“C’mon love,” you say, digging through his dresser to find him some dry pajamas. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”

He blanches at that, suddenly far too aware of the way he’d changed since the Games. His wet clothes clung to him, sticky with water and plastered to the soft stomach and curves that’d formed in the years after the Hunger Games had been ended. He knew that you liked knowing he was comfortable and felt safe enough to relax, but he couldn’t help but feel less worthy of the attention, especially with the way he had been treated in the years between his Games and the Quarter Quell. He eventually follows your request, tugging off his soaked shirt and holding it in front of his chest and stomach subconsciously.

You turn back, eyes narrowing as you notice his defensive body language. “You okay, Finn? You seem… tense. Is it still the nightmare?” 

He shakes his head, slowly forcing himself to approach you, dropping his shirt as he gets close. “‘M’okay.”

You step toward him, cupping his face in your hands fondly. “Sweetheart, I’m here for you. You know I love you, right? And whatever you’re dealing with, I’m here to support you.”

Finnick hesitates, but presses into your palms and closes his eyes after a moment. “I don’t feel strong enough for you anymore.” He can feel the way your hands start to shake where he rests against him and he knows that you must be heartbroken to hear what he had been thinking. “I just- I don’t know if I could protect you if something happened and I don't look-” his voice breaks a little as he voices his insecurity.

You interrupt him with a fond eye roll and a tender kiss, “You look like the love of my life,” you murmur quietly, pressing soft kisses across his cheeks and forehead. “And I love that you are safe and don’t need to be fighting ready unless you want to be. I love who you are, Finn, not just how you look and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if that’s what it takes for you to know it.”

Finnick feels like crying - to have gone from being treated as little more than a toy for strangers’ pleasure to being so wholly loved in just a few short years was a little overwhelming to think about, but he knows that he couldn’t be happier if he were anywhere else and he wouldn’t want to be. He is more than happy to be here, safe and loved and willing to carve out a new place for himself in the world with you. He knows that there is nowhere he would rather be than in your arms.

[thesecondplacename]

Title: The boy with the bread.

Part 2

Summary: watching the games, and finding comfort

Warnings: mentions of committing suicide, and more angst

-----------------------------------------------

He was gone, and I was left alone. As if that wasn't enough to be stripped away from him, we would all be forced to watch the games, to see the interview. I didn't know if I could bear it. How was I supposed to watch him up there?

As it turns out I was worrying about the wrong thing, I should have been more worried of having to hear and see him confess his love to the female tribute of our district Katniss Everdeen. It was confusing watching him talk about her in the same way he used to talk about me, how he looked at her like she hung the stars in the sky. She was beautiful, with her long straight black hair, gray eyes, and olive skin. I could almost understand why he said that he loves her, but we were together and had talked about having a life after the Games. It didn't make sense as to why he would be saying all of that.

A part of me hoped everything he was saying was a lie to stay alive for us, to come home to me. I could almost convince myself of that if it weren’t for the fact that the way he looked at her was so vastly different from the way he looked at me. Stronger, more intense. It hurt, it hurt so much to the point I thought I was dying, here I was waiting and praying for him to come back to me just for him to be snuggling up against her and kissing her throughout the games.

There was only one person who understood what I was feeling. Gale Hawthorne. I don't believe he and Katniss were ever really together, but he loved her just as I love Peeta. So as the games progressed we sought peace with each other, trying to understand what was going on in their heads. Everyday we would stand together to watch the games holding hands as a sort of comfort, afterwards he would hold me as the pain would be too much and I would end up crying into his arms and sometimes the roles would be reversed and it would be me holding him.

As the days passed we became closer than ever, once acquaintances to friends who understood each other in so many ways. The games were coming to an end and it was like a punch in the gut when we all found out that two tributes from the same district could be winners. Only for a second, just for one second I found myself wishing that I missed heard the change of rules because if two people came home they both would come home together and where would that leave me. After all, why would he want me when it was so clearly shown that he could only love her?

Gale kept a tight grip on my hand as we watched both Peeta and Katniss commit suicide together. My hand hurt in his grip but I didn't try to get him to let go as I was fastly becoming numb to everything around me, he would rather kill himself then hurt her he would rather die than come home to me. What did I do that was so wrong, at what point did I matter less than everyone else?

I was forced back into reality when I heard the sound of the games being over, they both were still alive. Peeta was alive, I couldn’t hold myself up anymore, my knees were so weak that I collapsed, or I would have if Gale hadn’t caught me as I was going down.

“He’s coming home” tears were falling. “Gale, I'm scared.” What did that mean for me and Peeta, for our future? —------------------------------------------------------------

Note: I'm having way too much fun with this story! Haha Part 2 is done.

Part 1 link

[crystalwrizz]

I didn’t know you were this pathetic, dove. (Katniss Everdeen drabble)

Warnings: Very light degradation, slight bondage

Content: Thigh grinding, use of a (low setting) vibrator, teasing, orgasm denial, g/n reader, use of the word “hole” but it’s not specified which one she’s talking about. This takes place in the capitol while they’re on tour(we’re going to pretend you won too)

Prompt: Katniss ties your hands together to see how desperate you really are.

Titles/nicknames used: dove(reader), ma’am(Katniss)

Word count: 411

✨❄️✨

You whimper as you shift your wrists in the uncomfortable binding. You push up harder against the vibrator, your senses becoming clouded and your face becoming warmer.

Katniss couldn’t help but chuckle, gently grabbing you by the chin. “Look at those doe eyes,” she started, cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb along it, “you’re so needy, dove.”

You nod. The way she was right now was unfair. Fully clothed, not even a bit flustered, and getting the privilege of sitting on a bed. You, on the other hand, were naked, hot and embarrassed, and writhing on the floor with your hands tied behind your back.

“Please, Kat,” you mumbled mindlessly, “please, I want to cum… it’s too much..!” You inched closer to her, rubbing your cheek on her clothed leg. She pushed you back, clutching your shoulder.

“Do I need to remind you how to be patient?” she said with an ominous tone. You shook your head. She lifted her leg, and looked at you expectedly. “I want to see every part of you. May I?”

You nodded, “Yes ma’am.” With that, she gently moved your head from side to side with her boot, looking at the countless hickeys and bite marks she left on your neck. She chuckled softly, putting her foot back on the floor.

She looked deeper into your eyes, starting to speak, “if you’re so desperate, get up here on my leg. I’ll take the vibrator off of you.” She did as she said, and laid it down on the bed. She pulled down her black pants a little bit, and looked down at you. “Come on, dove. Push yourself, get up on it.”

You nod, and struggle to your feet. Instead of waiting for you to get closer, she pulled you right down onto her thigh. Despite her telling you to be patient earlier, she wasn’t very patient in this situation either.

You gulped, and reverted your eyes to her hands that held onto your waist. She helped you grind against her, and you whined quietly and shut your eyes. “Kat, can I cum? Please, I’ll do anything…” you said.

She laughed. “Anything?” she began, “I didn’t know you were this pathetic, dove.” Her middle finger met your hole. You shook in her touch, waiting for her to thrust it in. Instead, she teased the opening for a bit and then pulled away.

“Too bad, you aren’t allowed to until we’re back in district twelve.”

A/N: Sorry if this isn’t good, this is my first time writing smut/a drabble

[faetreides]

i’m thinking about modern!coryo again… ‘n the way he’d just love humiliating you. when you’ve been particularly bratty (let’s be real, any time you tell him no he thinks you’re being defiant… no matter the circumstances), he loves to shove your face into the mattress so your ass is facing him, and grip your hips, teasing his cock against your entrance until you’re whining and begging for him to fuck you. but he doesn’t! he just lets his cock slap against your clit and tease your slick hole until you’re soaking your panties. his favourite thing though, is filming you take his cock, because even though he’d never let anybody see the videos (besides maybe his friends), he gets off on the way you’re whining for him to put the phone away as he fills you up, pearly cum sliding down your soft thighs. but he won’t, because he just loves the way you’re absolutely humiliated at the thought of somebody seeing how much of a whore you are for him

CW: anal, sejanus mention (throuple au tease), typical coryo type warnings, yandere/possessive & obsessive behavior, gn reader but there is feminization (reader calls themselves a "good girl", coryo calls your pussy "sweet girl" & assigns it she/her pronouns), blood (coryo has a fantasy of you tearing), accidental slight pet play/dumbification, my modern coryo's typical inability to understand/care about poor(er) people, the ending is inspired by ghostface's finishing move in dbd, implied plus sized reader (who's afab) he loves you really.

So true, you could do something as small as say “i want to be alone in the bathroom for 5 minutes” and he’d lose his shit. Something about that arrogant rich boy behavior turned up to 100 because he’s inherently a psycho….. like he loves you deeply but wdym his prized possession has a mind of their own (if you just decided to do everything he wants, he’d support you making your own decisions). His whole vibe was being untouchable and unavailable but now it’s coming apart. Like do you know how much he planned to hoe around when his family inevitably made him get married??? But now you’ve fucked it all up and made him feel like he’s constantly writhing around in every circle of hell fr.

So yeah, he can’t take it if he feels like you aren’t “putting in as much effort” as he is. And i don’t mean that he’d be pissed if you’re not cooking or cleaning, i mean that he’d be peeved if you weren’t matching his energy (batshit balls to wall insane). He’ll do a little cute open palm wave like “Hi, baby 🥰” when you look at him over your shoulder with tears in your eyes. King of false sympathy with all the cooing and mocking your facial expression (which you wouldn’t even have to make if you were behaving). His weird ass is completely naked even though he made you keep your clothes on, and he tore a hole in your leggings with his teeth for easy access.

He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.

The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.

You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.

A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.

"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"

"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.

Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.

It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.

C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)

"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.

The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.

Welcome Home.

The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.

"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."

His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.

Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.

"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.

You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.

You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.

You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.

Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.

"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."

Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.

You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.

Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.

You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).

His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.

He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.

"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.

It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.

But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.

"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"

His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.

You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.

"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."

You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.

He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.

"Smile, petal."

The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)

faetreides 2024. request rules. please consider tipping/reblogging if you enjoyed!