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kasagia · 4 months

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Losing your memory

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you hated him with all your heart.

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

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

You didn't know about that that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like a driven snow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 2

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 17 days

Text

Shades of cool

Instances where your best friends dad tried to seduce you.

Big daddy Elvis Presley x reader! Sexual situations.

Word count: 5k.

Warnings: As you read it’s your best friends dad seducing you. Major age gap. Naive reader. Kissing. Manipulation, gaslighting. Swearing. Obsession. He’s a cocaine user. Talk of male masturbation. Female masturabtion. Objectification. Sexy Polaroids. Sacrilegious. Detailed description of perversion at the end. Perverted E. All parties are legal!

A/n: “I wanted to try something a little different than I normally do. I wanted to write something a little darker. I also wanted to write something and this is what came out. Let me know if you like this version of my writing!”

Before the instances

It started, well, it was always in motion ever since he saw a little you with Lisa back in the late 60s. Nothing more than a lil ole schoolgirl. His friends talked about you like they did when he was with Priscilla all those years ago. It struck the same vein-alighted that same hunger. His micro aggressions towards you though, where he grew overtly affectionate and fond over you. Was the summer in 1985. He was older, much older, thirty-two years to be exact and you didn’t know why but his age never affected how you thought of him. If anything it drew you to him. He was older, more mature than the guys you’ve hung around. He was the father figure you needed whether you wanted to admit it or not. By God, Elvis was smart and he knew he’d never have a greater opportunity than now helping your own self, mature into a fine young (co-dependent) woman. You just had graduated high school the previous may with Lisa who was still a little younger than you. Since school let out you practically lived at Graceland. Much to her and her daddy’s satisfaction.

Graduation night

The first incident happened after graduation night. You were over at Graceland (shocker.) It was dinner, congratulations and gifts mostly from Elvis but others in his circle came and gave you a pat on your back as well. You were just excited to be done with it and to have done it with Lisa by your side. After the grand dinner everyone departed in their respective areas. You and Elvis however went outside in the darkness of night and sat by the kidney sized pool. Lisa wanted to take a nap so she could stay up later and so it resulted in just the two of you staring at the blue light that illuminated the chlorinated water. Elvis nursed a little Roi-Tan cigar. His infamous orange sunglasses still pressed against his chubby face. He puffed those cheeks with every draw of his cigarette. He uses it as a crutch. In his youth it was biting nails or the wiggling of a leg, now it’s just the burning inhale of tabcco. The two of you stared at the stars. He pointed some out lazily. Explaining their relationship to the other stars along with the spirituality behind them. He told you to pick any star your little heart desires and he’d buy it for you. You giggled at his playful jest but when you looked over to his face you saw no hint of humor. He was dead serious. So, you pointed to the biggest and brightest one there was. That one, you said. He chuckled darkly to himself. You’re gonna make me go bankrupt, pretty baby! Then he huffed on his cigar more with a hint of a grin, and your cheeks burned. The cigar embers burned his thick golden fingers. His other hand laid flat on his blue track suit covered thigh. He took his index and drew stars by his knee. You spread your denim daisy duke legs out and relaxed into the chair. Lifting your hips up, your shirt raises up your pretty hips. He stared without abandon. God cursed him. Elvis was nothing but a devoted Christian and God cursed him. How did God curse him? God cursed him by being infatuated with a teenage girl. Even worse, his daughter's best friend. No, it wasn’t God’s curse. It was the Devil's temptation. He can’t wrap his head around you being nothing but an angel. He often told you how your soul was the prettiest thing to him. Your soul is older than your body. He wished that you had grown up with him, met his mama and daddy. Gotten married and settled down with him. When he told you that you weren’t sure how to feel, should you feel grateful that in an alternative universe that you could’ve been Lisa’s mother instead of friend or that it might still happen in this reality if given the chance. You knew of his exs, Lisa told you about them. You knew of his player status of objectifying women and not taking no for an answer. Whatever he wanted he got it. He stopped officially being with women in ‘77 after his engagement had broken off. He doesn’t talk about it much. Sure, he still has girls hang off his wide arm on occasion but it’s nothing serious. It was like he was saving himself for something. Something to grow older. He takes a long draw, tilting his head up and the smoke billows out like a cloud into the sky. His soft jaw and lips puckering when he does. He stares at the side of your face through his shades. Admiring from afar. He leans over to the ashtray on the table beside him and stuffs the cigar in the marbel where his initials are. You watch as his tracksuit starts to rise and the soft pudgy skin of his back starts to emerge. You treasured all the times you got to see his skin. He never showed it off like he did when he was younger. The only time you were blessed was when he wore normal shirts or felt a little scandalous by unzipping the jacket to his sternum, making sure to not show his round belly. You nibbled on your lip and cut your eyes to the North Star, making sure that he didn’t see your wandering eyes. It's silent as he huffs to turn around. He looks at your face again. Nothing but a little ole baby in a woman’s body. That- that very dangerous thought is what spurs him on.

“Are you a virgin?”

You choke, eyes wide, mouth dry. You can’t look at him and your body is stiff and straight. Begging the North Star for guidance.

“W-what?”

He chuckles. The wrinkles on his face deepening as he smiles.

“Ya heard me lil darlin’.”

You nod and blink slowly, trying to find a way to divert the conversation.

“Why do you ask?”

His wide shoulders shrug and he pushes the bridge of his sunglasses down, you see the bloodshot veins in his eyes.

“Sometimes when I see you around my friends’ boys you don’t care ‘bout ‘em, like yisa does,”

He pauses. His hand on his thigh moves to his face and he scratches his chin and rests his face in his palm. His elbow on the armrest of the lawn chair.

“Ya couldn’t be more bored in ‘em.”

His fat tongue swipes over his plump lip. His eyes flick across your face, baiting you for a reaction.

“But when your ’round me you act like you’ve never been ‘round ‘nother man in your entire yittle life.”

Movie night

Elvis rented out a theater in Memphis near Graceland to watch The Way of All Flesh his favorite movie. Often he would do this. It didn’t matter how many times he saw it or forced you and Lisa to, he’d visit it again. Lisa complained about not watching something different like the goonies or the breakfast club, and you were just happy to be there. He didn’t care about Lisa’s cries of protest and change. He liked his 1927 black and white movie, he wouldn’t hear anything else about it but praise. He sat between you and Lisa in the back below the projector as it ran. He had his arm around Lisa’s shoulders, hugging her to his own. She yawned watching the banker find his life flipped upside down. As for you? He had his fat palm on the inside of your bare thigh. The warmth blistered your skin. The rings were heavy on your soft skin. His orange sunglasses were tucked into his white tracksuit zipper. You didn’t watch the movie as his hand danced along the inside of your thigh. You watched his broad face. Your lips pouted as you wondered what his game was. What was he trying to do? He wasn’t trying to do anything which resulted in you over analyzing the situation which ultimately is what he wanted. He wanted to get inside your little head. Wanted you to think of him. Obsess over him. You trail your eyes over the dips and curves of his plump aged face. His blue eyes catch your own and the gaze is held between you for a few minutes. He doesn’t speak a word and all you do is breathe. His hand doesn’t move and the unspoken power is acknowledged, along with his shit eating grin.

The kiss

You hadn’t visited in two weeks. You called Lisa and told her work had gotten in the way of your visits and she understood. She tried to emphasize that to Elvis but he didn’t care. You were being a ghost and he couldn’t handle it anymore. He’s been so gracious to you, so loving and you decide to abandon his family? He was going to lose his mind. He became short with everyone, the mafia, the maids, even being short with Lisa. He was a grumpy old man. While you were at work your parents had paged you at least a hundred times over. You were confused, exhausted, and frustrated. All you wanted was to lay down and get some sleep. You went to the bathroom and read the slow news.

“Urgent...”

“Elvis…blowing..up..phone..”

“Hurry..home…”

You sighed. When you did get home, you asked about whats wrong with Elvis and your parents told you that he’d rather talk to you in person. You nodded and packed an over night bag, ate dinner with your parents and bid them goodbye before getting in the cherry red Audi Coupe GT Elvis had gotten you and drove to Graceland.

It was dark and hot in the summer heat when you arrived at the gates. You didn’t have to mutter your name to the guard since you’ve visited so often. You pull up in front of the white stairs and your stomach drops. Anxiety flashes over you. What if he’s mad? What if he prohibits you from ever seeing Lisa again? Ever seeing him again? You breathe cautiously. Turning the car off and grabbing the duffel bag you packed and walking to the door. Before you raised your closed fist to knock the door swings open. You hear Lisa watching tv in the living room. It’s Growing Pains. He’s wearing a black tracksuit and his sunglasses are a baby blue like his eyes when they’re not bloodshot. He holds the door open with one of his hands and just stands in front of you like a wall. He’s staring at you. Eyes glossy. One of his nostrils dusted white. You open your mouth to apologize but before you could utter a word he takes the sides of your face in his hands and places his lips onto yours. He cranes his head down and tilts your face up. His gut pushing against your stomach. Your eyes are wide and you drop both your keys and the bag outside Graceland’s door. His lips are so much softer than you anticipated. His rings catch on your hair, but the slight pull burns into your stomach and makes your heart beat faster. He doesn’t press his tongue into your mouth, the pressure of his lips is enough to drive you into a frenzy. You can’t. When he finally does move away, it’s slow and staggered. His eyes are closed and his breathing is unsteady. He’s winded from kissing. He sweeps his thumbs over the bones on both side of your cheeks. Watching the burning sun in your eyes. You open and close your mouth like a fish. He just smiles lopsidedly, his smile lines and crows feet deepening. He presses a chaste kiss onto your lips.

“Don’t tell yisa.”

His lips brushes against yours as he speaks before pulling himself away completely. He crouches with a moan to your feet and picks up your keys and bag and walks up the foyer. You stand there puzzled, and sexually frustrated.

The picture

It was a blistering hot day in June. Elvis hosted a barbecue for his family and friends. For no particular reason other than to reminisce about the old days of his career. He’s been out of the performing business since ‘77 and now just produces his own recording company, giving kids like him a shot at making music. He wore a red tracksuit, with golden sunglasses. (One of those special occasions where he had the zipper down his sternum.) He didn’t go outside much that day since it was so hot, so he stayed inside Graceland with some of the older musicians and family who didn’t care to be outside either. He stayed by the window that looked the pool though. Watching you sunbathe and Lisa talk to some boys while swimming. Little kids ran throughout his property with water guns and balloons. Some of his colleagues tried to talk to him, he’d just mumble mhm. Never leaving the sight of you in a swimsuit top and a little denim skirt with bare feet. A boy came over to you, trying to talk and you didn’t care. Mumbling mhms. Priscilla visited and tried to talk to him about Lisa and doing things as a family and he didn’t care.

At 5, nearly sundown everyone gathered outside with three picnic tables pushed together as dinner was served. Crickets crowed and frogs croaked. He didn’t get a say who sat by him on the arrangement, he’d rather have you and Lisa sitting next to him than just Priscilla. They prayed before eating and he prayed that God would stop this little crush he had on you. He looked up from his bowed head and saw your breasts pushed together in that stringy bra and bowed his head to pray harder.

“Amen.”

The dinner was good and prestigious. He made jokes and smirked small, laughing mostly at Charlie’s jokes. Priscilla’s little hand was on top of his thigh and he couldn’t care, he watched you eat a hot dog like no other. His burger was a bit charred which was fine, but he only took a couple bites before retiring it. He watched you and Lisa whisper and giggle over some boys Lisa stared at. Droplets. Nothing more than a couple drops of ketchup fell on your bare chest and he felt himself throb. The tracksuit tightening around his burly thighs. He sips on his canned Pepsi. You don’t notice the smeared ketchup on your breasts as you move to look around and talk. Priscilla looked to her side as she talked with some older married woman about life. Priscilla’s hand cupped the side of his cock and he jumped. Letting go of his can of Pepsi.

“Jesus!”

He cut his eyes over to Priscilla and she took her hand off of his thigh and he groaned. He crouched down onto the grass below the table. Looking for the can. He pauses like a kid finding cookies. Finding snatch. His heart hammers and he adjusts his growing bulge. He pushes his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to the bulbous tip to fully look at the situation. His mouth nearly dripping with drool.

“No pannies.”

His thick drawl comes out as he whispers the revelation to himself. You spread your legs out wider and his breath stops. Hairless. Glistening. Untouched. He nearly sticks his wide tongue out to lap a fat stripe down and up your wet cunt. He wonders who did this to little miss darlin’? How’d her little pussy get so wet on his bench? How’d just looking at it gets him higher than any Miami coke. Then his heart strikes out. He sees Lisa’s head pop out on the other side of the bench a concerned look written across his face.

“D’you need help getting up, daddy? I know how bad your back is!”

He chokes and snatches up the can. He pushes up his sunglasses and sitting upright and the small of his back begins to ache. He looks at you and you smile dumbly.

“‘M fine.”

Priscilla looks at him then back at the soda can he threw on the table with a scoff. He sighs asking God for a blessing.

“Picture time, y’all!”

He stands in the back with more of the taller men and ladies were. He morphed into the back, not caring to be seen. Priscilla stood up front as well as Lisa. You stood in front of Elvis and he took your hips in his meaty hands. You jumped before realizing who it was. He whispered a husky. Jus’ me, pretty baby. He rested his chin on the top of your messy hair. He pressed his front up to your back and you raised on your tiptoes and he nearly came. The pressure of your firm ass pressing against the tucked head of his dick was enough for his eyes to roll back in his head. He needed to get one of his sleeping pills after. The rush of coke and the adrenaline of sex is too much to bear. He’s sweating bullets. You smile wide at the announce of cheese. Slapping his squeezing hands on the sides of your hips.

“Say cheese, big daddy.”

He smirks a little and swivels his hips so his hard on is pressed right up against the cheeks of your ass. For the first time in months he smiles to the point where his wrinkles are creased and he looks young, taking pictures in front of Graceland.

“Cheese.”

Fast food

It was a lazy Sunday after church. Elvis didn’t want to wait until he got to Graceland to eat so he took Lisa and you out to eat at McDonalds. He was starting to get a headache from only doing a milligram of coke before church. He asked before getting to the intercom what each of you wanted before Lisa and you decided to share an order and get a couple of large Coke’s. The only time he wore anything other than a tracksuit was to church and his recording company’s meetings. It was a simple black suit with no tie and a few of the buttons at the top unbuttoned. He was sweating profusely with the skin tight fabric. He thought he’d be able to fit in the old suit. It hadn’t been since a couple weeks since he last put it on. He was going to have to get on those weight loss pills again. He sighed and order a couple McDLT’s with no onions, no mayonnaise, mustard, or ketchup and a large Pepsi. He was content with not having to deal with being asked for autographs or pictures anymore. Occasionally there’d be the oddball who’d recognize him and asked for a memento and he’d graciously give it to them. He doesn’t miss the constant paranoia of who knows him and who watches. He listens to the conversation between the two of you talking about musicians and media. Lisa talks about Madonna and you talk about how Cher is still relevant. He pays and pulls up to the next window. It’s another twenty minute wait. He looks up through the rearview mirror through his black shades, watching you gush over Cass Elliott. Admiring the way you talk with your hands and the sheer white sundress you’re wearing. How Lisa matches your enthusiasm. The young clerk finally hands the food over and he leaves in the passenger seat as he drives to a nearby parking lot that oversees the traffic. He often liked sitting and watching the people and making up stories for them. Where they’ve been and where they’re going. He pulls to a stop and the chattering stops. He looks back and sees two sets of grabby hands luring him to give food away. He smirks softly and grabs the tray of large drinks and hands it to you. The banter continues as Lisa shoves your shoulder and you dump the drinks onto his lap. He freezes.

“F-fuck!”

Posture straight, hands up, shaking. It’s deathly quiet, not a word spoken. You’ve only seen Elvis angry a handful of times. Him pissed was a different situation entirely. Both you and Lisa utter apologies without abandon. He starts picking off the huge ice cubes and as he does you lean over the arm rest and start wiping off the Coke and ice off his fat thighs into the floorboards. His paunchy stomach tightening as you brush over his flaccid (hardening) cock. He watches your bare tits hang loose in your sundress. The perky nipples coming through. He thanked God for the no bras movement and watched you lazily hang onto his thigh. You smile like a bimbo when you’re done and rifle through the bag for napkins and press them down onto his soaked lap. After you felt like you did all you could do you leaned back and kissed his aged cheek. He apologized for getting angry and swearing. He went through the paper bag and handed out food. While unwrapping his first burger, his face scrunches and he throws the burger on the passenger window. He whips the car into the reverse and spurs out of the parking lot. As you look to the window you see onions, mayonnaise, mustard, and ketchup splattered on the window.

Pool Side View

He sat in one of the lawn chairs in a his DEA tracksuit, white bucket hat, and golden sunglasses. He was coked out and barely functioning. July was one of his busiest months and he couldn’t keep up with it all. He’s trying to read one of his spiritual books while smoking one of his cigars. He kept a prying eye on you and Lisa swimming in the pool. You had left for a couple days, to get some clothes which he resented. He simply would’ve bought you more. You had your own room at Graceland for fuck’s sake. He made you quit your job after the instance where you ghosted him. He never wanted you to leave. The swimming suit was big on you. He had bought you a swimsuit that was two pieces and a little big on you since he didn’t know your exact size. You guessed he did it on purpose. Lisa proposed for you to wear one of hers but she was a little skinner than you so you politely declined. Lisa and you were performing ungraceful water aerobics. Going underwater and kicking your feet up in the air and kicking them. Both of you kept chirping at Elvis to watch you perform. However one of the times you went under and came back up, your top had untied. You didn’t realize it until Lisa told you with a giggle. You were mortified, your mouth dropped open as you grabbed the floating article of clothing. You looked at Elvis and his sunglasses were perched lower as his strung out eyes watched you like a hawk. He couldn’t figure out if the coke was bad and he was having a hallucination or if what he did see was real. Did he see dirty little pillows with pretty nipples or did he dream that? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t question it. The stream of smoke by his head and he puffs. Taking his book back into his palm as Lisa ties your top back on. He pushes his palm over the base of his dick trying to push the blood elsewhere. I like that trick, do it again. He smiles to himself at the cynical joke. If only it wasn’t just a joke.

Polaroids

More than once Lisa reassured you that her dad wasn’t a creep, he was just overly sentimental and affectionate. It was just southern hospitality she reiterated over and over. It was late at night and Lisa and you were in your nightgowns in the living room, wrestling and laughing loudly. Watching Saturday night wrestling and reenacting some of the positions. Some nights you both would sleep in the living room to scare the maids when they first come out to work. The tv was the only light on, other than Elvis’s lamp light that he used to read one of his spirituality books. He was in his satin emblem pajamas. He wore reading glasses with the chain necklace around them. Every now and again Lisa and you would ask him to watch and you’d accidentally flash him. He’d blush and his stomach would start to stir. The thing that made him get his Polaroid camera was when you straddled a pillow between your little thighs and started to hump it. Intentionally or not, he didn’t care. He went into his room, grabbed his wallet where he kept the film in and the camera itself and went back into the living room. You were laid diagonal on the couch, your nightgown off and just in little cotton white with pink bows on them bra and panty. Your head was hanging off the couch and your legs were kicked up on the headboard. He got on his knees in front of your face and you smiled. The click and motor of the camera blinded you momentarily before he asked you to model which you replied attentively to. He asked you to pose in various positions. Running his fingers and palms over your body to smooth out the rigidness of your body. You watched Lisa stare into the tv, ignoring the photoshoot happening behind her. You wondered if this was appropriate and you remembered what she said about southern hospitality. He made you sit on his lap where you can feel the pressure of his bulge up against your clothed pussy. He lightly cupped the front of your throat and pushed your head back into his shoulder and your back pressed up against his chest. You feel his glasses pinch at your back. His rings biting into your neck. He raises the camera in front of your faces and it clicks. His lips brush over the shell of your ear as his voice drops to an octave lower. The tone where he used to sing.

“Wancha ta hump me like you did the piller little miss.”

You look at the back of Lisa’s blonde head. Your body is scorching hot. Your clit throbbing as his dick bobs with every buck of your hips. You move quicker, more desperate. Click. The Polaroid falls to his feet. You feel his stomach bounce with every gyrate. Click. If he could he’d hump back up into your wet little snatch. But his poor achy old back isn’t used to his 20yr old libido. The 50yr old man’s body isn’t adept to pleasing a pretty young 18yr old, but in this moment. The moment where your panties are soaked and catching on the outside of his pajamas pants, he thinks it doesn’t matter. Lisa shouts if you saw that move and you choke out a yes. Whether it was to Elvis’ fat fingers constricting your airways or the fact the friction is going to make you cum. Click. Your body starts to shake and pulse and he pulls you back to his chest. His thick stomach pushing into your back as he holds his palm over your mouth.

“Don’t say a word.”

He places the camera on the seat beside this thigh, running that hand flat over your stomach and to the hem of your panties. He plays with it. Running the fabric in his palm. Closing his fist and letting his gold rings run over it. He sticks his hand flat and into your panties. His palm flat on your mound, his middle and ring fingers play with your throbbing clit. The sight is ungodly. His big hand between your legs causing your panties to stretch out on your thighs. He whispers pretty words into your ear as he huffs. Your body spasms and shakes. Your cunt tightening over nothing as you cum. He pats your clit a couple times before removing his hand and wiping it on the your stomach by your belly button. He turns your head to the side and presses his lips to the side of your head. He pulls you off of his lap, picking up his camera and the fallen Polaroids up. He walks up into his room to finish what he started.

A couple days later you and Lisa decided to go to the mall to find some WWE shirts for an upcoming show. You told Elvis about the event and how you needed some money as he ate a peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwich. He nodded as he read the news, only half listening. Telling you to make sure that you have a driver and couple of the mafia guys to escort you and that his wallet was in his room. You giddily kissed his cheek and he smiled softly. You bounded up the stairs and into his room, finding his wallet where it normally was on his dresser. You opened it and as you pulled out a wad of one hundreds you gasped. The Polaroid of you on his lap fell out as well as pictures of him, Lisa and you at the aquarium. You grabbed at least a grand and shoved the Polaroids back in where you found it. Going to Lisa’s room and announcing that their allowance came early. Southern hospitality, you reminded yourself.

The letter

It was Sunday afternoon once again. Sometimes Elvis would get in this religious frenzy that church couldn’t even soothe. You and Lisa sat in front of his feet as he sat on the couch preaching. He had gotten to this one verse that he couldn’t seem to remember which was strange because he could remember a book start to finish as soon as he was done reading it. You watched as his bare bloodshot eyes wandered everywhere, searching for his words. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s disappointed in himself. He’s not as good of a Christian as he wants to be. He reaches down and holds your hand, staring into your eyes with such a softness that not even a cult member could obtain.

“Would you be a doll and get my Bible from my nightstand by my bed?”

You nodded eagerly and with an of course. He kissed the back of your hand as you stood up and walked to the stairs. He resumed his preaching to a different sermon to Lisa while you found his Bible. You walked into his room as you have a thousand times before and looked in his nightstand. Religious books and notes, medications. His coke. Nothing about the Holy book. You looked at the bottom drawer and you found it. Saying to yourself a little aha. However when you picked it up you found an envelope addressed to you. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you placed the book on his bed and picked up the letter. You had a moral confliction within yourself whether to open it or not. You finally decided to when you realized that he must’ve wanted you to read it eventually, right? You tore open the top of the envelope and took out the orange paper that he used for his notes and began to read.

“Dear little miss darlin’

“I don’t even know where to begin. I can’t even hardly see with how much I’ve sniffed. My hands are shaky and I’m nervous honey. For the first time in twenty years I’m nervous. I’m nervous about our encounters and if little yisa would find out. God, please don’t let her find out. I love you both too much for that to happen. I’m perverted and vile. I’m too far gone to be saved, I realize this now. I’ve prayed to God countless nights on my knees for him to fix it. To make me see you as nothing as my daughter’s friend, but pretty baby. Every time I look at you, or think about you, those sinful feelings start bubbling from my stomach and I can’t help them. I ain’t a strong man. I wish I could be so I can stop torturing myself with the thought of you. The thought of burying myself inside you and never leaving. Every woman I’ve been with, every woman I’ve fucked. I thought of you. I can’t get there anymore without thinking about you. I need help yittle one. I need your help. I need you to drain me so I can be whole again. I need you, I need you, I need you. God help me.”

“To be carnally minded is death; But to be spiritually minded is life and peace.”

His voice jolts you. He stands at the foot of the bed. He looks like a kicked dog. He’s ashamed.

“Romans 8:6, that is the verse I couldn’t remember.”

He shakes his head. Chuckling lightly, he runs a hand through his messy dark hair. You stare at him. Glancing back and forth at the letter and him.

“When did you write this?”

“After the Polaroid instance.”

You nod, speechless. Tormented. You want to be with him. You love him, but you know it’d never work. It’d have to be a secret for eternity. A secret that’s going to tear both of you from the inside out.

“So what are we?”

You ask shakily, dreading the answer. His face is grim and his eyes are glassy.

“Star-crossed lovers.”

#xreader #fanfic #smut #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader smut #dark smut #dark Elvis #elvis x reader #elvis smut #70s elvis #80s #80s Elvis #dark themes #big age gap #big daddy elvis

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kittykattropicanna · 4 months

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my brain is absolute mush i am in love with him!!!! he tries to get you to send him more photos — and you more than happily oblige — and he guards them like his life depends on it. slowly starts to ask more personal questions, mostly trying to figure out if you have a partner and when he finds out you don’t? the game is on. starts using pet names in his letters here and there, drawing you in deeper and you’re so helpless against him. and then the calls start and he hears your voice and then it’s all he can think about. tries to get you to say certain things — especially his name — for him to tuck away for later when he’s alone with your photo and his hand on his cock and wishing more than anything to have you instead of his fist ):

he thinks himself a good person, all things considered. but knowing you, and knowing you’re out there? no protection, such a sweet and soft thing — it worries him. maybe he asks johnny to try and find you. doesn’t necessarily disclose his true intentions, mostly out of curiosity. but then he starts thinking of when he gets out, how he can meet you, bring you back to his place, knowing he’s the best one to keep you safe and so he uses his time to get a head start so when he’s out he can finally keep you ):

hyperventilating, screaming, projectile vomiting, this, this, this, THISSSSS,

The reason im soooo obsessed with your ask is because 1, you’re a fucking incredible writer and 2, you dived so deep into PrisonPenPal!Simon’s psyche, his such a smart dude and unbelievably manipulative when he needs to be…..

Sorry everyones!! asks are taking so long to get out!! I just want to go into the most detail possible and give everyones ideas justice!! if you're waiting, I promise you its in the works rn <3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), phone sex, smut, manipulative!Simon and kinda stalker vibes I guess (not yandere)

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

If you think about his sentencing, he purposely played his cards in away that made him the victim without him actually having to act like the victim if that kinda makes sense?

The second he punched that kid he knew he fucked up bad, and then when he saw the blood seeping out of the kids skull and covering the floor, he knew he fucked up really bad.

A normal person would either run, go into hiding, try and resist the arrest, break down and have a panic attack. But he knew this wasn’t time for an emotional response, he needed to start planning what his next step was going to be and how he was going to execute it in a way that favoured him.

His not a psychopath, his 100% capable of feeling and experiencing human emotion and is very emotionally intelligent, but when he needs to be, his actions can be extremely calculated to the point its almost scary.

When he sees your picture though, something definitely clicks in his brain, he just wants more.

If that means more pictures or letters or even a phone call, he just needs it.

I think maybe its something primal as well… his a man at the end of the day, and being locked up for years in an all male prison with all male guards means he hasn’t even seen a women that isn’t a playboy model for fucking agessss

His not dumb either, he knows you put effort into taking that photo for him, he knows you put on a red bra because he told you his favourite colour was red. So the idea that maybe, just maybe you feel the same way, or are at least starting to, really erupts something in him.

But you’re completely right. He wouldn’t show a soul the photo you sent him. He’d go to drastic measures to hide everything :( you sent them to him, you’re writing to him, not anybody else,and he knows that if any of the other inmates found out about you, or god forbid, saw a photo of you, they would have an absolute field day.

He sees how the men his jailed with act when wives, sisters or girlfriends come to visit their loved ones.

He hears their disgusting comments about the women’s bodies, the detailed answers of what they would do if they ever got their hands on them. It always made his throat fill with bile and stomach twist.

Si may not be a perfect man, but talking like that about another mans women? His above that.

Thinking about how they would say the same things about you, how’d they’d all pass the photo around with a dirty smirk on their face and snicker? He wasn’t having that, over his dead fucking body.

He writes back to you keeping it relatively normal, lighthearted and friendly, but he sneaks in a little

“Ya’ boyfriend probably isn’t over the moon ya’ writtin’ someone like me, aye? I mean, if my missus was writin’ to a felon I’d blow my fuckin’ top love, theres gotta’ be somthin’ out there better for ya’ to been doin’, readin’ a book or somthin’ like that. It was lovely puttin’ a face to a name, just seein’ someone so happy makes me smile”

Receiving his letter makes your heart sore, you made him smile.

Obviously you had to send him more photos right? You just wanted to make him smile…. right? :(

You definitely didn’t want to send more because your pussy clenched when he called you “love”

Its definitely not because he was so protective over you, knowing he was so worried about your well-being, always asking if you're doing okay, asking if you’re safe…

“I worry bout’ you out there lovie, ya' gotta keep safe, look after ya’ self”

Getting your friends to help you take more photos for him!!!

Maybe you force them to go on a hike with you… you wear those leggings that make your arse look fantastic, posing in front of a nice view and purposely sticking out your cute little bum, subtly showing it off to the camera…. Showing it off to him :((((

But its just to show him the view!!!!! He hasn’t seen a nice landscape in years!! He deserves it!!

You’re not a dirty girl :( you’re a good girl!! You would never do something so disgusting for a man who’s locked in jail, your daddy would be so disappointed if he knew you were sticking out your arse for a man like Si >:(

Calling over your ex-situationships so they can fuck you, your dildo wasn’t enough anymore, you needed the real thing….you needed Si, but obviously you can’t have him, right? There’s no possible way you could ever experience your biggest fantasy….right?

So other men will just have to do :(((

Having them hold you down and fuck your pussy mediocrely, closing your eyes trying to imagine Si :( maybe even moaning his name accidentally…..

Its never really that enjoyable though, all you can think about is how Si would fill you so much better…technically, you have no evidence to prove that, but his such a gentlemen!! He knows how to speak to a women…he must know how to fuck one as well!!!

It only makes sense….

It makes you so sad… he’d never think about you the same way you think about him >:(

He’d never fantasies about your sloppy cunt the way you fantasies about licking up his fat cock, teasing his tip and ruining your throat as he shoves his meaty dick down it :(((

Rubbing your swollen clit on your pillow as you moan for him, maybe even looking at the grainy photo of his face while you pleasure yourself :(( you’re so disgusting for him, so needy, he would never want a girl as yucky as you….

When Si receives your next letter informing him that you don’t have a boyfriend as well as a photo of you posing for him, that’s when the obsession really begins :3

His not obsessed on a yandere level but his definitely deep into it :)

He never really thought about what he would do after he got out, he always kinda just guessed that he would go back to his old ways, but now he has you very obviously showing some type of interest in him, his mind is fucking racing!!!

Maybe he can get your number and use his monthly call to talk to you, maybe you can come visit him while his still locked up, maybe you’ll be willing to have him when his out, maybe you can move in together, maybe he’ll marry you, maybe he’ll finally get to fuck that sweet little pussy that his been fantasising about, maybe…maybe…..maybe..Ahhhhh!!!

Stealing sponges and a rubber glove when his on cleaning duty :((((

Bargaining with his prison mates for hair ties and an empty Pringles can so he can make his own makeshift fleshlight :(((

Fucking his fat dick with it while his eyes focus on your arse, imagining his got you in doggy and fucking you stupid:((( Maybe even putting his pillow in front of him and pretending its your arse, squeezing and spanking it >:(((

His corruption kink is feral…he knows his a lowlife with nothing good ahead of him, his more then aware that for the rest of his life his going to be labeled as a murderer, but the idea of him taking a pretty little thing like you and pulling you down with him makes him cum so hard his thick juicy thighs shake, fleshlight filling up with his cum and quite moans falling from his mouth >: (((

He doesn’t know were it came from, he just wants you to be with him and he knows he’ll never be able to live the white collar lifestyle you so obviously enjoy.

The idea of taking you out of that world and reeling you into his consumes him. Shitty one bedroom apartment, cardboard boxes as bed side tables, stained carpet and a flickering kitchen lightbulb. Its almost feeds his cocky superiority complex. Being able to pull a beautiful doll like you, get you so obsessed and needy for him that you’d follow him to the shit hole he calls home.

Being so obedient, so willing, that you give up everything you’ve worked for just to submit to him…..

Receiving that sweet little letter excites the fuck out of him, don’t get me wrong, but it also scares him a little, his protective instincts kick in a bit.

If you’re one thing, its a little naive.

You’re so willing to give up sensitive information about yourself without a second thought, you’re very obviously extremely vulnerable and trusting….

As much as he wants to protect you, he also sees these personality traits to be extremely beneficial to him.

You’re very easy to reel in after the line is crossed from polite and friendly to more flirtatious and maybe even a little bit sexual.

He addresses you differently in his letters now, no longer just using your name and actively being more outwardly affectionate towards you

“Hello my sweet girl :)”

and

“been on my mind lot’ lately, been thinkin’ about you, thinkin’ all sorts of things I know I shouldn’t ;)”

Once that barriers broken and your letters are just as enthusiastic, he knows his got you.

His got you to a point that he knows asking for a phone call isn’t a risky move anymore :3

He plans it though, he knows exactly what his going to do on that phone call and he knows nobody can be around while his doing it.

Like I mentioned in the first fic, his sentence was reduced because of his good behaviour, this obviously means his on good terms with the guards and most of the other inmates. They all owe him a favour in one way or another. He hadn’t asked for his good deeds to be returned, not needing them to be……until now.

He writes to you deciding on a date and time, Thursday at 3am.

He wanted to be alone when he talked to you, have some privacy and not be bothered.

His on really good terms with the night guard who works Thursdays, with just a little bit of bribing, he could be let out and have his phone call with you alone.

“Listen mate, ya’ want to know who’s movin’ drugs in and out of this joint? I can tell ya’ with no worries, but I need ya’ to do me a solid favour”

The guard his reluctant of course, but like I mentioned, Simon can be calculated when he wants to be

“Magin’ the raise you’d get if ya’ could give ya’ bosses that information? I saw ya had a photo of a little girl on ya car keys, think bout all the toys n’ shit you could buy er’ with some extra cash”

And obviously, he got what he wanted, it was light work really ;)

As 3am slowly got closer, you were shitting yourself, lets be real. It was hard to wrap your head around Si being an actual person, you know? Like of course his real, but it was all becoming a reality now….

You were three large glasses of wine in when it was time to call.

When your phone started to ring from an unknown number, you swore your heart dropped :((

The call almost rang out before you got the courage to answer it :(

When you did a very deep, rough voice with a heavy Manchester accent answered, you could hear the smirk through the phone, a confident “hello sweetheart” to match :(

His voice had your breath catch for a minute….of course you’d come up with your own idea of what he would sound like, but never in a million years did you think he would sound so charming, so confident, filled with anticipation, like he had been waiting for this moment for weeks…like he had thought of you the same way you thought about him :(((

It made your tummy swirl, that all too familiar hot ache feeling buzz in your clit :3333

On the other end of the line Si gently stroked his throbbing cock as you said your hellos :((

Your voice was even more memorising then he imagined, sweet little nervous giggles as you spoke to him, quietly letting him know that you weren’t quite sure what to say, that you were a little on edge, maybe a little excited.

You could hear his laboured breath through the phone, a distant wet sound that you couldn’t describe, so quite that you didn’t know if it was real or just your preverted mind playing tricks on you, making you hear things that aren’t really there :(

Just the sound of your voice was driving Si crazy :( you’re just as sweet as he imagined you, maybe even sweeter

He knew it was wrong of him :(

He knew that asking you to join his little game was evil. He had you right were he wanted you, and asking you to play with your pussy for him on the other end of the phone while directing you on how to finger yourself as he fucks his girthy cock with his hand wasn’t what you deserved…..

But he couldn’t help himself, not when you were talking to him like that, so innocent and sweet :(((

“Sweetheart, I need ya’ to do me a favour darlin’, okay? His cock was so hard it hurt, voice out of breath and sweat dripping down his brow. You were within arms reach, so close but yet so far away.

“Slide ya’ hand into your panties baby, start playin’ with yourself, come on, tell me what you're doin, describe it to me”

You so easily obliged, so willing to please him :( agreeing nervously with a stutter and shaky breath as you tell him what your doing

Describing to him what you’re wearing, an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath :( telling him you didn’t put panties on just for him :(

You let out a quite moan as you play with your tits, telling him how hard your nipples are, squeezing the pebbles and whining as he eggs you on

“That’s it baby, play with those tits for me, yeah?, that’s my girl, squeeze em’ for me, there ya’ go” Si had to lean himself against the phone box as his tip leaked with pre cum :((((

Using it to lubricate his vainy cock making the wet sounds louder through the phone, you whine louder at the thought of his cock, closing your eyes you trail your hand down to your panties and slowly slip underneath the fabric to play with your wet cunt, just like Si asked:(((

“Rub ya’ clit for me baby, tell me how good I make you feel, say ma’ name, say it” he wanted so badly to commit it to memory, lock it away for later >:(

You moan his name as you circle your clit, eyes shut as you imagine Si doing it for you instead. You chant his name while your back arches a little, pleasure building at the sound of his rough grunts and wet cock being pumped through the phone >:((((

“I know, I know sweetheart’ just hold on a little longer for me, yeah? That’s ma’ good girl, ya’ not cumin’ yet” his hand fisted his cock, squeezing himself as tight as possible and screwing his eyes shut trying to imagine he was fucking your wet pussy, not his callused hand rough and dirty from the weights he was lifting early that day :(

“Finger ya’ cunt baby, finger ya’ cunt and scream ma’ name”

You were dangerously close to the edge, the knot in your tummy tightening by the second, your once nervous moans now turned unashamed.

Taking your other hand and slipping it into your pussy, you let out a desperate whine, muling your hips as you pumped yourself, squelching noises matching Si’s as you abused your wet pussy :((((

“That’s ma’ perfect girl, that’s it. Come on, let go for me, let me hear those gorgeous moans”

Finally letting the coil snap your back arched like a cat, legs shaking as you moan his name, desperate whimpers as tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks

Si gritted his teeth as he pumped himself, ropes of his sperm painting the concrete wall in front of him as his heavy cock twitched in his hands, animalistic grunts falling from his lips as that feral pleasure he’d been chasing washed over him. :((

He’d never cum that hard in his life, vision blurry from the white hot pleasure with your heavy breaths in the background :3

Just as he was about to open his mouth, speak to you again, the phone cut out, he had used up all his time with you :(

Harsh beeps filling his ear as his cock slowly softened, tip bright red from the attention…

He needed you more then ever now, protective instinct going through the roof :(

Knowing you’re out there all alone with nobody to keep you safe made his blood boil…..

He needed to have a set of eyes on you, the constant letters weren’t enough anymore :((((

Maybe there was a bit of jealously as well, the thought that there may be someone else….

It drove him up the wall, made him feel rage he had only felt very few times in his life

If he couldn’t have his eyes on you, then he’d 100% send Johnny out to do the work for him.

Looking through your letters and highlighting when you mentioned the name of the cafe you went to every morning, the name of the bar you and your co-workers went to every Friday to celebrate the end of the week.

Of course he wouldn’t tell Johnny the truth, simply asking him to keep an eye on an “old friend that’s going through a rough time” while his locked up for the rest of his sentence :(

And Johnny obliged, happy that Simon was in contact with people that weren’t just 141.

Reporting back to him every week, always with a positive review :)

A soft thing like you cant be left to fend for yourself sweetheart, not in a world like this. But don’t worry, his got your back, even behind bars ;)

RAHHHHHHHH, him, my mind is filled with HIM

PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

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grison-in-space · 1 year

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man I've been listening to Guards! Guards! again, right. I was going to do Feet of Clay again but I wanted so badly to spend some time with Lady Sybil in her element, so I detoured over to the beginning. (Incidentally, Making-Money!Vetinari up against Guards!-Guards!Vetinari is one hell of a contrast. One gets the sincere impression that older Vetinari would wipe the floor with his younger self if they ever met, and then be painfully embarrassed afterward; and yet you can see the potential among the arrogance. I wrote this bit before I wrote a longer piece about that exchange, but I'll get round to linking it in here in a moment.)

But I wanted to discuss Sybil.

The first thing you have to understand about Sybil is that she is an archetype of a certain kind of autistic person, usually a woman (or a queer man). You find them in every kind of domestic animal fancy, although Sybil is of the class and rank that generally focuses on relatively large, expensive, and impractical animals; the dragon fancy is mostly based on the dog fancy, with strong influence from horse fancies and sometimes cat or falconry fancies. It is not a coincidence that Sybil is unmarried and that most of her time is spent with other women, often middle class or upper class women, who share her all consuming interest in dragons; this has been a really common social circle for autistics, especially autistic women with independent money, into a given animal fancy since the cultural concept of animal fancies existed.

The second thing you have to understand about Sybil is that she is not at all a conventionally attractive woman. Here are the things we learn about her as Vimes does, in order: she has inherited wealth and status that she does not particularly care about; she is large--taller than Vimes himself, or at least tall enough to loom over him--and "booms" confidently and incomprehensibly at him; and even after she takes off the heavy protective armor useful for conducting a dragon mating, she's tall and fat and (implied to be) heavily muscled under the fat. Her figure is compared to the Venus of Willendork, or perhaps an operatic Valkyrie, and she wears wigs because she is generally fairly bald, or at least singed. She's loud by nature. She wanders around with a dragon on her shoulder creating awful smells and occasionally dribbling.

God, I love her. Speaking as another erstwhile animal fancy autistic, she's really living the dream there. And this little Watch man shows up in her life, totally fails to understand what she's asking for when she tries to conscript him into the easy job for the breeding she's trying to facilitate, and then sits and asks her a bunch of pointed questions about her beloved dragons. He's weird in his own way and a little drunk, and he really is unfortunate enough not to have any dragons experience at all, but he sits down and he asks her questions and he listens to everything she can infodump at her with, as far as I can tell, rapt fascination.

This is not an experience Sybil Ramkin has frequently had. He doesn't try to escape or change the subject or draw her back to the pieces he cares about even a little bit. He's clearly dazed and confused and probably, knowing Vimes, a little bit drunk, but he's not even visibly discomfited enough to shove poor old Dewdrop Maybelline Talonthrust the First out of his lap. Sybil clearly knows that most people don't appreciate being drooled acid on, and tells Vimes repeatedly that he can shove the old man off, but he makes no effort to do so at any point. Given that dragons are described as having a quite pervasive smell, and given all the other details of their biology, I can't even begin to imagine how awful the old dragon must smell... and Vimes just sort of rolls with it.

(It's a pity Pterry didn't understand show names at all, of course; the ones we get should tell us something about the relationships among dragons and kennels, and the prefixes should be repeated, and whatever Sybil's own kennel name is should be present in many of the dragons she mentions. Probably it's either Talonthrust or Moonmist, but either way Goodboy Bindle Featherstone of Quirm is named entirely wrong. He's clearly of her own breeding, so he should have a kennel prefix or suffix that aligns with hers, not a name that has nothing in common with her other dragons and implies that his dam was bred by the duchess of Quirm rather than by Sybil herself.)

He listens and he listens and he asks questions and he goes down to the kennels to look at her pride and joy and listen to her explaining what makes each of them so nice. And then he brings her an incredibly exciting present. And he expresses interest in the sweet little whittle she's been trying to work out what to do with, who is totally not a breeding specimen but is too weird even for the sort of people who adopt dragons from the Sunshine Sanctuary. He doesn't even try to leave until the big dragon overhead causes a big stir, and then when she has him taken to her house to recover, she finds him reading her book about diseases of the dragons with every evidence of fascination.

Small wonder she takes notice of him, really.

#discworld #sybil ramkins #sybil

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bzjohndory · 3 months

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Brozone Diner thoughts

Honestly i am a really big fan of the fact brozone diner is little angst, don’t even get me wrong i love AUs that are heart wrenching as hell but i also love just running to my own AU and it being pure family fluff with a few crumbs of issues that they handle together.

John Dory is definitely an animal guy in my head and their pet dog Rhonda helps John Dory a lot like. Emotionally. John Dory needs his alone time but still like having his animal companion with him so Rhonda just helps him get through harder days!

I also like thinking about how it was before current brozone diner like. I think John Dory’s perfectionism was something prevalent and Bruce and Clay definitely got the brunt of it 💀 they’re not a boyband so i had to figure how to work it in a diner AU which made me think that John Dory felt validated in receiving 5 star reviews and having regulars. I work in a family business as well and oftentime when im taking a regular’s order, they’ll just ask for my mother who knows exactly what they want and how they want it which I imagine is what also went on with BrozoneDiner. John Dory probably compromised a lot of orders to keep customer satisfaction and made basically new items to keep regulars coming. When Bruce and Clay started working and they didn’t know the customers like John Dory did, and John Dory probably mega stressed when they were just newbies in the family business because of how often they would make first job mistakes. I think Bruce and Clay did resent him for his perfectionism but didn’t resent him as much as they did in Trolls 3 original storyline cause for every mistake they made, as much as John Dory would obnoxiously scold them for it, John Dory always protected them from angry customers and shit. A lot of this AU is based in my almost 10+ years working in family business and there are times i fucked up and i was pissed for being screamed at for simple mistakes but my parents who yelled at me are also the same parents who made sure no customer would yell at me and i think that would help settle some of Bruce’s and Clay’s frustrations with John Dory since John Dory didn’t really ruin something fun for them like a boy band; John Dory is literally just trying to provide for a family of 6 (Rosiepuff lived with them until she died but she was too old to be working, mostly just oversaw the kids as John Dory worked) They don’t break up and have a reunion in this AU but I imagine Bruce’s and Clay’s issues had to be resolved with time and less of a direct confrontation 💀💀💀 i think they did confront John Dory about it eventually after a few years floyd was born but i dont think it blew over into any extremes like JD, Bruce, or Clay running away or anything. I think John Dory finally relaxed after Bruce and Clay had become adults and Floyd and Branch were on their steady way to a decent future; i think at that point John Dory would have already grown accustomed to the routine of taking care of his younger brothers + handling and managing a diner and by that time Bruce and Clay were experienced in working in the diner and helping ease his worries a lot by contributing to the diner. ORGSUSHDH I COULD TALK ABOUT THIS AU FOR DAYS I HAVE A GOOGLE DOC WHERE I TALK ABOUT ALL OF THE BROTHERS’ PERSPECTIVES GROWING UP AND IM STILL WORKING OUT THE LOGISTICS OF THIS AU CAUSE I STILL WANT IT TO BE REALISTIC BUT IM GONNA SCREAM I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

i will not lie when i say a lot of my hyperfixation is directed towards john dory and honestly as much as i try to distribute the drawings i do of BrozoneDiner evenly between the brothers you can very much tell that the AU is john dory centric 💀💀💀

But yeah the crumblike amount of angst in this AU is basically just. Normal real world problems and the diner when it was first handed down to John Dory 👻 other than that i do intend to keep this AU as fluffy as my brain desires and my brain loves familial interaction and silly family business banter.

Anyways i’m so happy people have enjoyed this au as much as i do and any questions/requests are always welcomed! (i need to talk abt this au sosoosos badly i think abt it way too much)

Also this is my first time using tumblr how the fuck does the askbox work i wanna do like a “ask the brothers” thing but i have noooooo fucking clue into anything abt tumblr

#trolls band together #i love john dory a normal amount #brozone diner

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babygorewhore · 5 months

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Giving spirit.

Tate Langdon blurb.

18plus only! Fem reader. Smut. Period sex. Extremely little plot. Not proofread because I just needed to get out how horny I am for Tate.

You decide to give Tate a Christmas present. Tate wants to show you how much you mean to him. Extended version of my period sex with him.

You knew Tate normally hated Christmas. It was just another reminder of his eternal existence in the Murder house. You weren’t a ghost like him. Tate refused to ever hurt you. You were made of glass to him. His little Doll. But you weren’t, you often reminded him over text as you browsed the mall for perfect gifts for him.

You selected a variety of things, different band shirts, CDs and finally a sketch book with several pens and markers. Tate had taken to drawing lately and you wanted to support his healthy coping mechanism.

When you came back to the Murder house, you were immediately greeted by Tate and he pulled you in close.

His arms tight around you, cheek rested against your head and you felt his heartbeat. “Hi to you too,” you laughed and returned the embrace.

You pulled back. His brown eyes searched yours for any sign of trouble. “You were gone forever.” You shook your head at him, cupping the back of his head and toyed with his curls.

“I was not. Besides, I had to get the perfect gifts for you.” You teased.

“Baby, I told you I don’t need-“ You pressed a finger against his lips, feigning frustration. Tate quickly took in the digit past his lips, holding your wrist and he sucked.

You squealed, pulling back and ignoring the flutter in your core. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs before other ghosts annoy us.”

You both settled in the bedroom, sitting across each other on the bed. Tate was mostly silent as you laid out your purchases across the blanket. Grinning, you looked up to meet his brown eyes. They were glassy and he toyed with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Nobody’s ever given me a gift before, baby. But-they’re perfect.” Tate held up the CDS, before rising from his place and putting them in the stereo.

He removed his shirt, exposing his slender figure but strong muscles flexed as you swallowed. He looked back at you, “What? I have to try on the shirt. To make sure it fits.” He said with a smirk.

Two could play at this game, you thought. You stood too, picking up his discarded sweater and putting it on. “We can play dress up.” You said, raising your eyebrows.

Tate’s smirk grew and his eyes darkened as he took you in. Standing close enough to touch shoes. He twirled his finger, signaling you to spin around. “Mmm. You look so perfect, princess.” You ducked your head down, bashful but Tate lifted your chin up to meet his stare.

You pulsed between your legs as Tate caught your lips. His soft mouth warm against yours, his tongue darted out and set itself inside. Your hands flew to his head, gripping his hair and his were secure around your hips. You could feel him hardening against your pelvis. Reminding you of an uncomfortable reality.

“Wait,” You pulled back dreadfully. “I-I’m on my period. I thought I’d be done but I’m not yet.”

Tate leaned in again, kissing you harder. “That doesn’t bother me, is this okay?” You moaned, managing a low yes as he guided you on the bed.

You landed on your back and Tate hovered over you as he pulled down your skirt and underwear with the pad attached. “Fuck. I need you, I love you so much.” He licked a stripe up your neck before sucking your pulse point, peppering open mouth kisses on your collarbone. You starting grinding against his knee that was inbetween your legs. Your skin growing hotter as Tate’s long fingers settled above your pussy. “I don’t even need to spit,” He paused and looked down at you. “On your cunt.” Before he spat in your mouth.

His pointer and middle finger circled your clit, enough pressure to make your back arch, your head pressing against the bed. You whined as he teased your entrance, before settling again in the center. His callused fingertips adding more sensitivity. “I’m-I’m sorry-for getting blood on you.” You gasped.

“I don’t fucking care about that. I just need you.” He smashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Marking you.

He finally slide his fingers into you, curling them upward. Blood giving him extra slick and you bucked your hips wildly. His knuckles kissed your clit and you felt like you were going to explode. “Fuck me,” It was too quiet for him to hear. You cupped his face. “Tate, please fuck me. I want-I want you to cum in me.”

He didn’t hesitate for a second, his aggression disappearing and morphing into desperation. Tate practically threw off his jeans and boxers, lining his heavy, pre cum leaking cock against your pussy.

You almost screamed when he pressed into you, skin slapping against each other as he fucked you deep. You inhaled sharply as he pulled out, his dick coated in a light layer of blood and wetness before slamming back in. You clawed at his back, still covered by his shirt that you were too fucked to pull off.

Your stomach tightened, your pussy clenching around him as he thrusted so hard that headboard slammed against the wall. “Baby-I’m gonna-“

Tate hovered over your mouth, his own whimpers and moans filling the air as rock music played. “Cum. God, please. I need you to cum around me.”

Immediately after, you stilled and your eyes rolled back. You came hard, sweat dripped down your forehead into your hair. Your mouth was open before your eyes squeezed shut.

Warm cum spilled inside you as Tate’s thrust grew sloppy. His head in the crook of your neck as he slowed to a stop. Your legs were still around his hips. He got up, quickly grabbing a towel and cleaning himself up. Then you. You felt light, fucked senseless and slightly sore. Tate must have known the discomfort as he helped change into comfortable clothes.

Tate adjusted you on the mattress, laying behind you. He covered you both with the blanket, his hands soothing you as he kissed the back of your neck. “You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, baby. You didn’t have to do all this. I’m okay. I’m just-“

“Fucked out?” He chuckled and you elbowed him. “You were so thoughtful to me…and I love being with you. I love you more than anything.”

You tightened your hold on his arms and allowed yourself to enjoy this moment.

Tagging moots. @xxhellfirebunnyxx @scene-and-dandylover @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @elaine-in-the-membrane @icannot3 @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @taintandviolent @lithium80sblog @alittlesil

Technically this could be considered a short fic. But I don’t do short fics lol. So I call it a blurb.

#evan peters #american horror story #evan peters imagine #tate langdon #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters x reader #ahs #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon smut #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon fanfic

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rinandsketches · 5 months

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Still on the train of thought about Blue Eye Samurai. I been seeing people really diss Taigen so...Let's talk about him.

I'm going into a dive into his character cause people only see a bully that might have a toxic relationship to Mizu. I'm going to dive in from start to finish and give my theories and takes on this fisher man's son to where he is know.

Beginning in episode 1-

So..I'm pretty sure everyone's first reaction was like mine. We wanted this guy to be knocked down a peg. Meeting him as that one kid bully who was going to take things to far with a rock. In the adult years he has worked hard and managed to get not only high honors but the love of a princess.

I kinda ship Mizu and Taigen (sue me) but this one episode is where people draw their conclusions to judge off Taigen as mostly irredeemable. He's proud, cocky, a brat, and he openly cheats on Akemi with some girls while celebrating his engagement, he was arrogant, proud of it and had every right to be, this is proof by the size of top not. its bigger then the rest of the students, literally showing his importance as the top samurai in the dojo. Placing my cards on the table here, if Mizu had not shown up, Taigen would have just become like Akemi's father. Its a small hint by the father stating that he also started small and worked hard like Taigen, seeing himself in Taigen.

What saved him was Mizu.

The duel happened and his chonmage was cut off by Mizu. She stripped everything from Taigen. Yet he is a prideful guy, he goes out to try and get back what his. I think the spot where his hair was cut is a way to show he is now ,not only a member of the outcast as a disgraced warrior, but he was ready to regrow again.

during his adventure with Mizu, fighting with her (alongside and against her), his wants begins to change. I don't know how many people noticed this but Taigen's hair does grow back by the last two episodes which is in the span of a few days or Possible a week. It could signal the new change in Taigen, he's softer to Mizu, less arrogant, and despite his feelings towards the fact Akemi is married he still saves her husband. Now he did get mad at Mizu and its kind of understandable, they have been at the forge for a week and she didn't say anything about Akemi and Fowler's plan until much later. Depsite that he fights with her against fowler.

This leads to the final scene with Taigen,

After everything single God damn thing he been through, he's reached this point. As Mizu said, he's not good but he can be great. She was not referring to his combat skills, she was talking about his character. Taigen also comes to figure this out, he doesn't need to be good with a blade to be great nor does he want to. If this had been episode 1 Taigen, I believe he would have thrown a fit if Akemi told him she wanted not be with him instead he must have took her back to her husband before leaving.

To sum up: yes, Taigen was a jackass, and an arrogant one to boot. I believe he was looking for a way to be happy with the options he had. Clearly it wasn't easy for him growing up, as Mizu probably thinks. Speaking of Mizu, the two need to have a conversation. Taigen definitely has regrets about not making her life easy, but Mizu also needs to begin a forgiving process. Its safe to say Mizu has a hard time letting things go..so it might take a while before the two can let their past go and continue to grow as people, and possible companions.

#blue eye samurai #mizu x taigen #taigen

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averyangrypossum · 2 months

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Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the

Flowerbroadcast AU!

Based on the two drawings I did of a fankid for the ship radiostatic.

The full-body one

And the one with both Vox and her

And now, I’m gonna tell you all about it and exactly who the fuck this little kid is.

Lotus is the daughter of Vox (as you can tell) and Alastor and is six years old. She was created shortly after Vox and Al broke up, oh yeah I should probably talk about their relationship status. Vox and Alastor, unlike in canon, weren’t only close friends but were dating at some point, mostly because Alastor wanted to manipulate Vox’s feelings to where he’d be more compilable but accidentally took it too far, and since Vox is a piss baby Alastor decided to entertain Vox for a while.

Was this relationship healthy?

NO!

Would Vox say these were the best years of his afterlife?

Yeah.

But anyways, in this au when Vox asks Alastor to “join his team” he was actually proposing and Alastor finally realized,

“Shit maybe this has gone out of hand” and breaks it off with Vox which leaves Vox heartbroken and with an incel breakdown. Now instead of trying to move the fuck on, he has our little darling Lotus, who he has trying to fill the hole that Alastor left.

So obviously having a child for that reason isn’t going to make you a good parent.

Lotus’ relationship with the Vees are as follows in the particular order.

1 Velvette: She does Lotus’s hair everyday and picks out outfits for her to post on her social media before Lotus immediately undos everything that Velvette does and just goes for pigtails and her nightgown. Velvette has wine aunt energy and is probably the only one of the Vees to know how to talk and get through to Lotus.

2 Valentino: Surprising I know, but Lotus doesn’t know what he does to his workers, she knows what he does for work but grew up with thinking that was just something normal since Valentino was never hush hush about his job around her much to Vox’s dismay. Valentino isn’t a big fan of children and doesn’t hang around her often, but sometimes he’ll draw along side her while bitching about a particular show she’s watching even though it’s literally made for kids.

3 Vox: Wow, how bad do you have to fuck up for a pimp who hardly spends time with her to be ranked higher than her own father?? Vox, despite making the conscious decision to have her, he isn’t around like at all. Hes a workaholic through and through, and mostly leaves her with nannies and Velvette. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. Au contraire he loves her with all his heart and soul. Will give her anything except quality time. He uses her more of an accessory than a child.

Now how exactly Lotus was made is up to you.

A robotic creation Vox made? Sure!

Some voodoo magic shit? Yeah!

Some weird magic thing where she kinda just poofed into existence? Why not!

Mpreg? I mean, do what you wanna do ig?

Cuz it really doesn’t matter!

This whole au starts with Lotus running away from the Vee tower to explore hell since she's basically Rapunzel. She gets lost and terrorized by sinners until our deer Alastor rescues her. Seeing his chance to promote the hotel he takes her there where she is offered to stay there by Charlie when Lotus complains about how bad her dad is. She graciously accepts because shes only six but is going through her “My dad hates me and I hate him” era. Which I mean…I would get that impression too if I didn’t see my dad that much.

Wait my dad lives across the country…don't talk to me rn I’m busy dyeing my hair black and becoming emo 🖤

But anyways she stays there while Vox is loosing his fucking mind, and becoming more mentally unstable.

Meanwhile! She's having the time of her life with the hotel's residents and a new father figure who treats her well and pays attention to her! Alastor! Now Al doesn’t know she is his kid, but that doesn't stop him from being a better dad than Vox out of spite!

Anyways, thats all I have, for now! Stay tuned my friends~

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popironrye · 25 days

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Little Birdie

So animals aren't really something I draw much, can you tell? XD

This is Arlo! He's a derpy little runt of a pigeon, but since he's Marko's baby, he feeds him to much so he's very fat.

I really wanted to draw this little guy and of course I had to include Marko as well. Arlo is one of Marko's pigeons, but he's not like the rest.

I like to think at one point in time, Marko thought it'd be cool to give raising hatchlings a try after finding out the domesticated female pigeons were leaving their eggs up in the crevices of the cave walls. This didn't last long for a couple of reasons.

1. Since pigeons are monogamous and are always around their babies 24/7, even the most domesticated ones are very good at taking care of their babies all by themselves. And

2. Raising babies of any animal species suck, given how much responsibility is required to feed, clean up after, and protect them, not to mention the boys would need to take in a nocturnal animal as they were completely unable to do anything during the day. Marko was more than happy just letting the pigeons raise their own.

As the bird grew, Marko noticed he stayed pretty small compared to the other pigeons, guess he was always gonna be a runt.

This all changes when he's floating in the hotel bored, just watching the few previous baby pigeons left before they fly out to live on their own as adults, Marko notices in one of the crevices he knew had an egg before still had something in it. It was a baby pigeon, without a parent anyway close, which Marko knew was odd. The baby was like any other baby pigeon he saw. Very ugly. Bright pink fleshy thing with very little feathers to cover it yet. Since it was by itself, Marko knew something must had been wrong with him and the parents just abandoned him. Marko kept good care and record of his pigeons and the boys respected his wishes not to kill and eat any of them.

Marko pulled the baby from the hole and just held it, examining him very closely. When the boys found out about the abandoned baby, they figured Marko would leave it somewhere to starve or just eat himself, but Marko didn't have the heart to do that. Instead he kept the bird around, calling him Arlo, just to see how long he'd live.

Arlo is a very sweet little bird. He loves getting pets. He can fly, but he's not the strongest flyer, so he's mostly on the ground. Marko tied two bells around his ankle so he'd know where he was at all time.

#the lost boys #my art #marko names all his birds #he's a bird dad #marko the lost boys #marko tlb #the lost boys 1987 #fan character #fanart #the lost boys fanart

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anantaru · 2 years

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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐 — 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

✦ kinktober day 2 — mutual masturbation feat. heizou : itto : kazuha : tighnari x fem! reader | kinktober masterlist.

✦ warnings: explct

✦ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

the hem of your shirt was pushed up over your breasts— your nipples pointing upwards because of the enormous feelings that were running through your veins right now. Heizou was going slow, stroking his cock with one hand while the other one was drawing circles over your nipple, his face moving forward to take it your breast in his mouth.

"don‘t stop playing with yourself." he‘s commanding, his tone dark, heizou let go of your tit with a lewd pop before looking in between your bodies, watching your fingers push in and out of your clenching hole. "Fuck, you‘re so hot." he‘s gasping for air, the pace on his hard cock increasing as he retracted himself so his tip would be in front of your dripping heat. Your legs were shaking, hand beginning to strain yet you didn‘t even dare to stop, far too gone in the sinful sight right in front of you. The way heizou was fisting his cock was almost borderline pornographic, lewd and messy, his pre cum pooling down and hitting your hand. His eyes fell to your fingers that were glistering with your slick, your essence clear and staining the bedsheets. Heizou was barely able to wait to fuck you later on yet he truly couldn‘t get enough of the intimacy the both of you were experiencing right now.

✦ 𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎

"fuck." itto was panting softly against you, his brought figure radiating warmth through your own body as he lazily fisted his cock in front of your pussy. You were stuffed full with your fingers, pushing in and out of your tight hole only for his eyes to witness. The sight alone made him tremble, itto truly couldn‘t take his eyes off you in this very moment.

"i need you." his voice is hoarse, coming from deep inside his throat as his pace increased, stroking his cock harder before removing his hand for a moment to spit on it, spreading the saliva around his abused tip. You‘re arching your spine at the feeling of your fingers trying to dig deeper yet it wasn‘t possible. You were craving itto‘s attention more n more as time went on, your digits just weren‘t doing it for you anymore.

"please itto, i need you." you‘re whining, begging at him and did he enjoy it, would lie if he‘d ever deny it. "Not yet baby." his grin was wide, the corners of his lips carved upwards as he began to circle his wrist with every stroke, groaning through gritted teeth at the newfound feeling. He could feel his climax approach, his orgasm building deep inside his gut and finally breaking free as his cock spasmed in his hand, releasing his warm cum in thick spurts over your body with a big smile on his face.

✦ 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

your hand was cupping your heat, bucking your fingers in and out of your throbbing hole while kazuha was watching you intently, his hand busy with fisting his stiff cock. His tip was angry looking, red blush around his slit while his shaft was decorated with soft veins which were now more visible than before.

the urgency to give you all his attention was slowly making him lose his mind, your fingers coated in your slick and archons, how desperately he wanted to taste them on his tongue, mouth watering at the sight. Time felt as if it had stopped around the both of you, only this very moment mattered now, your back arching into your fingers for a more comfortable pace. "fuck." it wasn't often for kazuha to curse, not to mention curse around you, yet all he could do right now was moan through his clenched jaw with a small chorus of filthy words escaping from past his throat.

"you're so pretty." his grin was developing wider upon seeing your flustered state, cheeks heated up while you whined at him. Your fingers just weren't doing it for you anymore! you needed to feel kazuha's or even better, his cock inside of your tight cunt. But as mostly, he took his precious time with you, slowly circling his wrist whenever he'd reach the tip of his cock before squeezing down, bringing himself to his deserved orgasm before pulling himself down to your face to kiss you passionately.

✦ 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈

tighnari was muffling your moans with his rough hand pushed on top of your mouth while lewdly rutting himself into his fist. You were lazily rubbing painfully slow circles on your clit right in between your glistering folds, coaxing the man above you to close his eyes and let out the probably most beautiful moan you’ve ever heard.

he didn't like being too vocal when it came to intimacy, tighnari rather adored hearing you voice your pleasure yet whenever he couldn't hide his sinful sounds to you, he made sure to somehow stop them even if he failed miserably upon trying. The downright sinful sight in front of you was driving you mad, body heat increasing viciously. You were very much aware that tighnari knew exactly what he was doing, gradually moving closer so you'd share each others body heat while the tempo of his hand increased, now chasing his own release while his gaze was still falling in between your legs.

your hand was coated in your slick, the squelching noises of your cunt only coaxing you on to end the torture he was pushing you through. Tighnari knew you craved his touch, knew that your fingers weren't doing it for you anymore and that you were desperately craving his own inside of your tight hole. Who knows, maybe after you keep putting on a show for him, he's going to reward you after all.

kinktober masterlist.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #heizou x reader #heizou smut #itto smut #itto x reader #tighnari smut #tighnari x reader #kazuha smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #genshin x you #heizou x you #itto x you #tighnari x you

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Note

Ok but what would it be like for bruce and shopgirl when valentine's day arrived?¿

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Length: 2.9K

Warnings: Mostly fluff; light angst; implied sexytimes; Alexa, play Pillowtalk

It's the first Valentine date you’ve ever gotten on a plane for.

Bruce had been guarded about telling you, but his plans for the two of you just happened to intersect with something that he needed to handle outside of Gotham’s jurisdiction. You try not to think too hard about it. Whatever Bruce was getting up to, he got up to before you even got to Gran Canaria. Since you’ve arrived, the two of you have spent every moment together in a lux, rented villa. Your nerves from the past couple of weeks are steadily dropping away, and Bruce has been pretty well-rested. He’s more relaxed, more open than you’ve seen him before.

You can’t help but wonder if he would’ve been as relaxed if you hadn’t found out about what he gets up to at night. You glance over at him now, lips pulling up with a smile when you find him completely asleep on the pool chair beside yours. His mouth is parted in his sleep; his sunglasses are a touch askew. You glance back, then lower the book you were reading to your seat. You stand and take hold of a patio umbrella, tugging it closer to the chairs, shading Bruce’s body. Then you settle back down, taking up your book. You hesitate before you glance up. The shade is covering the both of you, and you still want to get some sun.

You swing your legs off of the chair, tip-toeing over to the pool and sitting down on the edge, sliding your legs into the cool water. You smile, wiggling your toes and taking your book up again.

You’re not going to lie—taking nearly a week off from the store had been sort of risky. To be honest, you’re not completely certain your job will be there when you get back. Your manager had made you aware of the fact that she’d be bringing someone in to temp in your place, and if it went well, their performance would be weighed and measured against yours. Well, she's been looking for a way to get rid of you since you disappeared in the middle of the day to grab lunch with Bruce. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to job hunt when you get home.

You sigh softly as your mind buzzes with the possibility, setting your book aside and peering out over the infinity pool, swinging your legs beneath the water. You glance back, doing a double take as you see Bruce rousing, adjusting his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. You smile as he pushes himself to stand, walking over to you.

“Did you have a nice nap?” You ask.

Bruce yawns, then grunts. He carefully nudges your book back from the edge of the pool before sitting down beside you.

“Water’s cold,” He mumbles sleepily.

“That’s sort of the point, babe.”

“Shade was cold, too. I don’t remember that umbrella being there.”

“I moved it. I wasn’t sure how long you’d be asleep and I didn’t want you to wake up looking like a lobster.”

“How kind of you.”

“Though the sunburn-pink hue would’ve been festively appropriate.”

Bruce smiles, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. You tip your head against his, closing your eyes for a moment.

“You get any rest?” He murmurs.

“Just read for a while.”

“You should’ve napped. You won’t been getting much sleep for a couple of days,” He teases before nipping your shoulder. You smile, wriggling and slapping his thigh. Bruce chuckles, curling his arm around your middle and drawing you closer to his side.

“You want something to drink?” He asks. You consider for a moment before you shrug.

“Sure.”

“Champagne?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright.”

You watch, brows raising, as Bruce pushes himself back, standing. You figured he’d just call out to Alfred, who hasn’t been too far from the two of you since you arrived, but Bruce is heading for the villa.

You sigh again, leaning back on your hands. Things between you and Bruce have been a little…Stilted since you learned the truth about his nightly activities. Some things have been a little easier. You don’t question every move that Bruce makes, any off-handed comment or sudden splotch of bruising on his body. But where you used to spend most nights wondering what he was up to, you now spend most nights wondering if he’s even going to make it home. You keep your eyes peeled for any mentions of Batman in the news and in newspapers; you’re tracking 'Batman', 'Caped Crusader', and 'Bruce Wayne Batman' on several social media sites.

You do wonder if Bruce had planned to take you on a trip before you found out, or if it’s something that he wound up doing because he feels he owes something to you for his secrecy, his split attentions. You wonder if, during this vacation, his mind is really with you, or if it’s with the people of Gotham, the people that he may be neglecting by being here. Your stomach squirms with discomfort, the idea that Bruce may regret taking the time to be with you. You wiggle your toes beneath the water, trying to dispel the feeling with subtle movement. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the shadow falling over you, or the glass being held out to you.

“Here.”

The lean of the word tells you that Bruce said it at least twice before he caught your attention. Your head snaps up, a smile slapped on your face as you take the champagne flute.

“Thanks,” You reach up, taking it from him and raising it for a sip as Bruce sits back down beside you.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah! Yeah, I zoned. Sorry.”

Bruce nods, gaze sweeping your face curiously. You lower your head a touch, trailing your finger over the glass.

“So,” You clear your throat, “Any plans for the rest of the day?”

“I thought we could go do some shopping, maybe stay in for dinner.”

“Sounds good,” You nod. “You making Alfred cook?”

“No,” Bruce chuckles. “He’s got the night off.”

“Mm…Catered?”

“I’ve got it all planned, don’t you worry about that.”

“He cooks,” You gasp, resting your hand over your heart in shock.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce mutters, but you can see the smile creeping on his lips.

“Do you want my help?”

“No.”

“Can I help?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Would you just relax?” Bruce chuckles, glancing away from the stove to meet your eye. “Have a drink, turn on some music, something.”

You pout, reaching out and snagging your champagne flute. You consider him for a moment before you walk over to him, cuddling against his back as he often down cook. You smile as he lowers his hand to rest over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“It smells good,” You murmur.

“Tastes even better.”

“You were right.”

“Oh?”

“Mm. It was delicious,” You practically purr, curling your arm around Bruce’s middle. He smiles, turning his head and nuzzling against your forehead before pressing a kiss there. The two of you have curled up on the large, plush couch after dinner and dessert. Ella Fitzgerald croons sweetly over the speaker system. You’re full, and comfortable, and happy. You feel like the center of Bruce’s world. His arm is curled around you, keeping you close as his fingers skate along the fabric of the dress that you’d bought for the occasion.

“Thank you for this,” You add softly, tipping your chin up.

“Thank you for the book,” He counters, looking down at you. You nod, glancing toward where it sits on the table. It was one that he’d mentioned to you about a month ago (on extradition—you’ve tried not to think about why he might want it).

“Glad you like it.”

Bruce reaches down, stroking his knuckles along your jaw. You smile, tipping your cheek into the touch and letting your eyes fall closed.

“C’mon,” Bruce urges. You frown as he draws away, pushing himself off of the couch.

“What?”

“Come here,” He holds his hand out to you. You hesitate before you take hold of it, giggling as he tugs you close, wrapping his arm around your waist. He begins to sway the two of you gently to the music, his gaze sweeping your face before his eyes hold steadily on yours. You rest your hand on his shoulder and look at him in kind, unable to help the smile that grows on your lips. Just a little while ago, looking at someone and being looked at like this would intimidate you. Now, you just feel seen and cared for, and special.

You lift your hand from Bruce’s shoulder, cupping his cheek gently. Bruce pushes his cheek into the touch before he turns his head, brushing his lips across your palm. His hand smooths down your back, drawing you impossibly closer as he rests his forehead against yours. You let your eyes slip closed, allowing yourself to just sway, and feel the warmth of Bruce’s body. You smile at the brush of Bruce’s nose brushing against yours, followed by the sweet press of his lips. You tip your chin up into the kiss, chasing his affection. Your hand slides along his cheek, slipping up into his hair and winding around the strands. The sound of his groan buzzes against your lips. You part them, shivering as Bruce’s tongue skates tenderly along yours.

The two of you still in your swaying, falling out of time with the music and into sync with one another. Bruce’s hand smooths up your back, coming to rest on your nape as he turns your head as he likes. You let him guide, yielding to his squeezes and shifts. You shiver as he takes a few steps back toward the bedroom, his fingers lowering to tap on the zipper of your dress questioningly.

You can imagine the trail of clothing that Alfred will spot when he returns to the villa. You can only hope that he doesn’t trip over your bra, wherever that landed. You smile as Bruce’s sated body shifts against yours, as he presses a sweet kiss to your neck. You slide your feet up to brace on the bed, cradling his hips with your knees and curling your arms around his shoulders. You shiver as he brushes against your still slick, aching core.

“I’m gonna need a few minutes before I’m ready to go again,” He warns.

“Just a few?” You tease.

“Are you callin’ me old?”

“Making sure I don’t wear you out, Wayne. You’ve got work to do when you get back to Gotham.”

You mean it jokingly, but it makes Bruce go still. You sigh softly, tipping your head back against the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” You mumble. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’d be alright if you did.”

“Would it?”

Bruce rests his chin on your shoulder. You can feel him watching you closely.

“Yes,” He insists. The two of you lay in contentious quiet for a few moments. He slides his hand over thigh gently. “Do you wish I hadn’t told you?”

“I don’t know,” You admit. “Sometimes. Mostly when we’re back in Gotham, when I can’t sleep.”

“Why can’t you sleep?”

You purse your lips into a thin line.

“I worry about you.”

“That happen a lot?”

“Every day.”

Bruce presses his face into your neck, grip tightening on your thigh.

“You think I don’t worry about you? Especially after that incident at the store.”

“Yeah, well, you may not have to worry about it anymore.”

It falls out of your mouth with bitter tiredness, and you wince as Bruce tips his chin up to get a better look at you.

“Why’s that?” He asks.

“Nothing,” You sigh, “Never mind.”

“Oh no,” He pushes himself to sit up, leaning against the headboard. “I’ve learned that when you say nothing, there is in fact something.”

“Is it those strong deductive skills that make you so unstoppable as a vigilante?” You ask dryly. You’re surprised to see Bruce smile as he nods.

“That’s part of it.”

“What’s the other part? The inability to answer a straight question or the backlogged billions of dollars?”

“Actually it’s my ability to see through diversion tactics. So, what happened at work?”

Damnit.

You sigh softly, shaking your head. “I’ve been thinking of finding a new job,” You excuse. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the whole truth. Bruce doesn’t seem to buy it, but he doesn’t lean any more heavily into it, either.

“Doing the same thing?”

“I guess,” You shrug. “I’ve been working in retail for a while. Not sure what else I’d do.”

“...We don’t have any retail, but I’m sure we could find you something.”

“We?” You repeat, brows raising.

“Sure. Wayne Enterprises is always hiring.”

“Oh—Bruce, I don’t know.”

“Could just give the listings a browse, see if there’s anything you like. I can put in a good word.”

“I don’t want you to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re Bruce Wayne, there’s like, no doubt that I’d get it.”

“I know, that’s why I’m offering.”

You scoff a laugh, reaching up and pushing Bruce’s shoulder as he grins.

“C’mon, you know I don’t play that card unless it’s for a good reason,” He adds.

“On our first date, you rented out an entire restaurant and then took me to get fast food.”

“Because you didn’t think I would do it.”

“My point is you played the Bruce Wayne card to rent out the restaurant.”

“Yes. And everyone there got paid for a full night with the Bruce Wayne credit card.”

“Well that’s true,” You agree, tipping your head from side to side. Bruce watches you for a moment.

“Tell you what,” He finally says. “Just…Take a look, see if there’s anything you like the look of. I’ll do some snooping, find out what they liked and didn’t like about the last few people in that position.”

“Legal snooping or illegal snooping?”

“Legal snooping.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart. Alright?”

You smile, nodding.

“Alright.”

Bruce leans down, giving you a gentle kiss. You smile, lowering your hand and rubbing his thigh gently. Bruce hums into the kiss, leaning back for just a moment before he shifts down and draws you atop him. You groan softly, sucking on his lip, giggling as he rolls his hips up against yours.

“You fully recovered, Wayne?” You mumble.

“You wanna see how recovered I am?”

"I can feel it just fine.”

“I think that’s the last of it,” You sigh, passing your bag over to Alfred. “Thank you.”

“Of course, miss.”

“Where’s Bruce?” You ask, nodding to the empty backseat of the car. “I thought the jet was supposed to take off in, like…An hour.”

“The advantage of taking a private jet is that it doesn’t take off until you’d like for it to,” Alfred smiles. “He said that he would be along shortly.”

“Huh,” You nod, glancing back toward the villa, “Lemme just…” You pat down your pockets, freezing when you realize that you left your phone in the villa. “Ah…Shit, be right back.”

“Do hurry, wheels up in half an hour,” Alfred calls after you.

“That’s not funny!” You call back before jogging into the villa. You glance around the surfaces, spotting your phone where you left it on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, thank fuck,” You mutter, hurrying over to it.

“I was gonna bring that out,” You hear behind you. You glance back, smiling when you see him coming closer.

“No need. You got everything?”

“Yeah, forgot my passport was in the bedroom. I think it fell out of my jacket when we got in here.”

“Oh. Where was it?”

“Under the nightstand.”

“Jeez. Did you have to toss the room to find it?”

“No, the corner was peaking out.”

“That’s lucky.”

“Mhm. C’mon, we’ll be late for the flight.”

“It’s your jet.”

“I know,” Bruce chuckles, taking hold of your hand. “I just wanted to see you get a little twitchy.”

“You’re an asshole, Wayne,” You pout, following him out of the villa. The sky is growing darker and darker. You can only hope that you’re able to sleep on the jet. If you can’t, you’ll need a straight-up coffee injection for work when you get back…Provided you still have a job when you get there…

“...You’re doing it again,” Bruce says, breaking your concentration, and you look forward to find him holding the door open for you expectantly.

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Nothing.”

You nearly wince as Bruce’s brows jump in disbelief.

“Just—Just thinking that I’m gonna miss this place,” You excuse, waving back toward the house. “It’s nice, you know.”

“Well,” Bruce looks back toward it. “We can come back some time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Stop pouting,” Bruce reaches up, gripping your chin and leaning in for a kiss. You smile swaying up into him and hooking your fingers in his collar.

“Get in the car,” He murmurs, leaning back, “We’ll be late.”

“We’ll be late,” You repeat childishly before sliding into the back of the car. You look up as you settle in, frowning when you see him still standing outside, looking around.

“...Bruce?” You press. “What is it?”

He doesn’t move for a moment before he gets into the car with you.

“Thought I saw something,” He mutters before shooting you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. All set, Alfred,” He adds, turning to look to the front seat.

“Just in the nick of time, sir. I may have to speed if you want to make it through security if you want to make your flight on time.”

They chuckle as you huff, folding your arms across your chest and sliding down in your seat.

“You guys are mean.”

Next Part

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x You #Bruce Wayne/Reader #Bruce Wayne/You #Bruce Wayne fic #Bruce Wayne imagine #The Other Half

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