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rensylph · 30 days ago

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𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 🥀🥀

Yandere genshin men being husband,

Characters : ayato, diluc, kaeya, zhongli, alhaitham, tartaglia, neuvillete, wriostheley.

AYATO

He would be a manipulative husband, he wants you to stay with him in meetings and basically wherever he goes, he will have high expectations for you if you ever lash out or you do not control your emotions, he will give you a glare and say that being a lady in the house should be filled with elegance and maturity not throw a tantrum like a child.

He will gift you expensive kimonos as well as high end jewelry, but he didn't give these gifts out of love, it worked as a collar and a sign of an ownership of you. He will also plan to baby trap you. He wants about 3-4 children or maybe more, if your body could keep up.

This was originally an arranged marriage form by him, your clan was on the brink of falling until the head of the kamisato clan offered your family an arranged marriage between you and him so your clan got to live, on your wedding day, that was the last time you saw them. You feel like a caged bird.

DILUC

He would totally see nothing wrong with his ways. You are only allowed to go out of the mansion or go to mondstat with him. He will see this as a way to keep you safe from the outside world. And every time you try to protest about it, he will bring out the excuse of keeping you safe.

He will expect you to give him a kiss or some physical contact from you 24/7, he will hug you like his life depends on it. Caressing your body. Using his vision to give you warmth during the cold nights. He also wants children but not yet until you're ready.

You were his fiance during his childhood, originally he always treats you as if you're a normal friend. Until his father's death he became clingy and during his trip out of mondstat, he said, when he came back from getting revenge you gotta be ready to married with him.

KAEYA

Kaeya would use his charming, manipulative and cunning behavior to isolate you, he would be playful and teasing you but he is also very possessive. he told you to just quit your job and let him take care of you.

He would also use his charms to flirt with some woman just to make you jealous, but if it's you with another man he will wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your cheek while giving the other party a subtle glare. And if you ask him to not flirt with another woman he would only if you promise not to talk to any other man.

You were originally a knight working under him, he would pass some flirting comments and would invite you to drink you with him in angel share. Originally you guys started a relationship and soon he proposed to you. But he's been very against you working as well just to stay as a stay at home wife for him.

ZHONGLI

Being married to the geo archon for centuries wasn't the life you expected, he was sweet and cared for you but sometimes it always feels like you're being suffocated by him to follow his routine. He expected you to be an obedient wife due to the contract that you have signed with him 3000 years ago.

Zhongli is a patient man, even when you lash on to him he will just stand there and look at you and ask are you done. Liyue has many tales of your love story change thru all of the centuries, but none of them once mention one of your accomplishments instead referring to you as his wife.

You were one of his servants that worked closely with him in the archon war, one of cloud retainers first disciple, ganyu was still a little girl during this time as well. And after when he wins the war becoming the archon of liyue he was allowed to be given any price he wants, and he picks you to be his price and his bride.

ALHAITHAM

He would be methodical and calculating, justifying his actions. He would already plan everything out, hes already planned everything before marrying you, calculating what's your schedule, how long will it take to date you until he proposed and he basically already planned everything before hand so everything could go perfectly.

He will maintain a perfect life around you making sure nothing goes wrong, making sure your diet consists of rich and nutrition enough for you to live long, say goodbye to those unhealthy junk food, I mean he would allow you to eat it but only once in a month.

You were a spantamad student, he will always find you sleeping at the library after completing your script, he originally wanted to wake you up but suddenly he stopped and sat next to the chair to your chair and for minutes he enjoys and soak up every feature of your face looking at if it's the most beautiful painting in the world. When you wake up he is already gone and planning your marriage.

TARTAGLIA

A so called or a wannabe shining armor for you, he has this persona or desire of wanting to be your knight and shining armor, he wants to whisk you away from the warm and comfort of your home to move you to a large palace, a cold and lonely palace isolating you from the world as well being a cage for you.

Tartaglia would buy you endless amounts of gifts every time when he's out on a voyage around the seven nations to fulfill the tsaritsa promise of a perfect world. he will be there every step to make sure that world will be fulfilled so you and him could live happily ever after.

Before every event that could lead him up at this point of his life. You and him were childhood friends or were simply forced to hang around due to both of your mothers being best friends, he would only want to play knight and shining armor while your the princess being trapped by a dragon and he comes to save you other then that he's favorite thing to play with you was playing house, him as the husband, you being the wife while his younger sibling who is a baby played as you guys pretend child.

Neuvillete

A refined and elegant gentleman, everyone in Fontaine is fond of you guys marriage, the ludex of Fontaine and his wife always voted number one couple in the steambird, articles of you guys small dates as well detailing on how romantic you guys are. Every time you go out he will guilt trip you to stay inside instead of going out.

Neuvillete will use emotional manipulation as well as guilt tripping to trap you inside the walls of his home, saying it was to ensure your safety. Every time when retrieved back from a trial or work he will personally ask to bath with you, it's the only thing to keep him calm and not worried about you. The melusine sees neuvillete as their father figure and they also see you as their mother figure.

Originally an oceanid that manages to retain their pure form and memory even after egeria turn every oceanid to live as a human and was a loyal servant to the first hydro archon, Egeria. Originally you were against being turned into a human wanting to serve your archon for eternity but During the arrival of Neuvillete you were offered to him as a spouse or a companion to stay by his side forever.

Wriostheley

A confident and head strong husband, he allows you to go outside but since it's the fortress of meriopede there isn't much to see inside as well for being safe due to the criminals that are being kept in line by your husband, so it's unwise to go outside his sight.

The entire fortress as well the staff calls you duchess due to your status of being married to him, you hated that title making you feel as if you were just an object that is held dear by the duke of the fortress, he always find it amusing to this nickname because it means people knew who you belong to for him the title of duchess is a sign or mark that you belong to him.

Originally a prisoner who was accused of a crime that you didn't commit, during lunch time you were eating this prisoner is sitting beside the table you were sitting and decide to make new friends during your time in jail, the prisoner was surprised for your present and ask why are you sitting with you gave him a blunt answer and he laughs and he ask you do you know who he is and you replied with a no, soon that day a Friendship blossom between you and him, until a new comer guard exposed his identity for being the duke, unfortunately it's already to late he has already fallen into a hole of love and obsession over you

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konigsblog · 2 months ago

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OCTOBER 6TH — ELDRITCH!KÖNIG. Never in a million years would you expect to be held hostage by an intimidating monster, desperate to breed with a human like you.

2024 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. (DAY 6) 🐙

(MONSTER-FUCKING, NON-CON, BREEDING)

You're valuable treasure to König. Lost at sea, left vulnerable surrounded by a group of haunting, hungry, and insatiable monsters that would do anything to own you. To them, humans are a fictional, fantasy creature, nothing more of the imagination. They had been dreaming of this, fantasising about owning something as rare and unique as you.

As König was the first to discover you, he claimed full ownership over you. His lengthy fingers wandered your shaking, limp, and barely conscious figure curiously as he hunched over your much smaller form, eagerly poking at you with curiosity and concern visible on his face. He chuckled at the fearful and horrified reactions you had, how you helplessly squirmed beneath him, your scratches barely having an effect on him. You were entertaining, a little toy simply for his enjoyment.

Your clothing stuck to your damp skin, as well as your hair did to your scratched face. You were delirious, feeling as if this was a lucid dream rather than your reality. The sight before you was horrifying, with thick and dripping tentacles coming from around the creature, slowly traveling over your supple skin. Your surroundings were unfamiliar and distant, nausea and confusion leaving you disoriented. When you attempted to flee, you'd stumble drunkenly, surrounded by a large body of water that you truly had no chance of surviving in.

He'd try to feed you the graphic and gory remains of old sailors that he'd purposely drowned, frowning at your visible disgust. You resented König. You despised the feeling of a shackle around your ankle, how you were held captive on this island only for his own sick and perverted enjoyment. But, you didn't have much of a choice after all. Your previous and failed attempts had resulted in stricter rules and boundaries, restricting you further of your freedom.

König had dreamt of mating with you. Disturbing creatures like himself already had their partners, and the curiosity inside of him was too much for him to ignore. His fingertips tugged at your thighs, prying them apart, slobbering all over you through desperation and depravity. His tentacles wrapped themselves around your ankles and biceps, with one slowly pushing down your tight throat to silence the aggravating whines that slipped from your lips. His grip was agonisingly firm, almost as if he was slowly cracking your bones, only intensifying when you wiggled and fought. You couldn't help but sob out as he slowly prepared you, dragging his slick and dripping tentacles across your slit, coating you in his murky and strange fluids. You whimpered, the dreadful sound of your weeping only antagonising König.

He could help himself, he was beyond desperate to relieve himself inside of you, fill you up with his beautiful offspring, hoping for you to mother and care for his children. He was unusually cruel, a frightening contrast to his gentle and sweet actions, how he coddled you and held you close every night, soothing you with his calm and loving humming. Now, he was practically tearing you in half, grumbling out incoherently as he rocked his broad, large hips back and forth. You choked on the tip of his growing tentacle, your folds wrapped tightly around his veiny shaft.

Oh, the other creatures would be so envious and jealous of König. You'll become the perfect breeding mate and mother, just wait, Mäuschen.

#orla speaks #cod x reader #könig call of duty #konig x reader #call of duty modern warfare #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #cod mw2 #konig call of duty

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alexiroflife · 3 months ago

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"trance"

fluff, slight crack, modern!sukuna, whipped & clingy sukuna, itadori family!

ryomen sukuna x reader

Synopsis: sukuna, a man who rarely attempts to keep his thoughts to himself for the sake of others, makes his infatuation with you everyone else's problem when he's high

to sum it up: sukuna's fried, and naturally all he wants is you

WC: 3,258

Warning(s): mentions/use of marijuana, suggestive themes, horny ass sukuna who has no decorum in front of his family

You know Sukuna is no better than any other man who you have caught the attention of in the past. No matter the time of day or the occasion, the salmon-haired man is quick to intrude on your personal space, invading your unsuspecting body with the wander of his large hands over your frame until you find yourself returning to the default state of being at his will.

Sukuna proudly takes ownership of his infatuation with you too. Rather shamelessly, he's got an arm wound over your shoulders and locked around your neck or hands firmly splayed on your waist, bringing yours to his and keeping you there for as long as he deems necessary.

He would never say so out loud, but it is evident by his body language and the way he strays from being more than ten feet away from you that he is attached to you at the hip. Sukuna is an aggressively clingy man, for as long as you belong to him, he is taking advantage of your closeness, of your body, of your time, mind, heart, and soul.

Even so, when Sukuna is in the proper state of mind, he still remains somewhat calm with his actions and how he presses himself to you. He will appear almost angry with affection, but silent save for a few commands to relax your body or to stop stubbornly attempting to push away when you feel crowded, though you never have any luck in that regard anyway. He is more reserved, more contained with his confrontations as though touching you is the easiest, most soothing, and most familiar thing he has ever done. Sukuna has a tendency to skillfully mask his truest emotions with a viel of apathy and air of indifference, despite how his body speaks for the things he fails to verbalize.

And now, of course, while Sukuna is not at all in any realm close to withholding a proper state of mind, or state of sobriety more accurately, his body betrays him tenfold and acts on its own will while his mind is on the backburner, hazily numbing itself with the passionate buzz of the smoke that was dragging from his lips and past his nostrils.

Sukuna often fails to take into account the appropriate time and place to engage in or say certain things, for he feels that if there is something he wants to do or discuss, no company or environment could shift his will to do so. Arrogant with pride, Sukuna operates according to his desires, and all those who know him are quite familiar with his rather inconsiderate antics.

That is why the crimson eyed man is splayed out on his brother's sofa, legs spread dangerously far apart with his arms thrown over the back of the furniture. Blurry lidded eyes stare off in a heavy daze captured solely by you, who are maneuvering about his brother's kitchen alongside Choso, who is helping you locate the baking sheet for the cookies you have been yammering on about baking all day.

You can feel his eyes burning into your skull from a mile away, and you are wildly too accostumed to this routine of his for you to pay the notion any mind. You are far too focused on your own task at hand to meet the fiery, lust consumed gaze that your boyfriend has locked onto you.

His eyes, unfathomably red, trace the outline of your figure slowly as though drinking in the sight of you, savoring it so that he can taste it on his tongue long enough for it to linger until he can get his hands on the true, physical flavor of you.

There's a darkness in the way he checks you out from across the room seated next to Wasuke, who glares angrily ahead of him with a twisted scowl at whatever channel has been randomly flicked to in the stupor of Sukuna's high. It almost feels as though the room is charging with the volcaic tension that Sukuna's body emits from its place in the living room, for his obsession with you manifests into some sort of beast before everyone's eyes when he is under the influence of weed.

And despite being surrounded by family, Sukuna can do nothing but watch you with that hungry glint in those hues of blood red, paying no mind to how easily the room can read him.

Truthfully, Sukuna does not even feel that he should be blamed for the way he is eye fucking you now. You decided upon yourself that it was a good idea to visit the Itadori home with a thick cardigan slipping down the skin of your shoulder to reveal the tank top that hugs your midsection and tits tightly, which you only vurther expose when you decide to strip the outer fabric off with complaints of being warm. Your graceful arms stretch to grab the kitchenware out of Choso's hands to set aside on the counter, your bare neck craning gently with the tilt of your head and a concentrated pinch of your brow as you mix raw ingridients into a bowl with your hands, kneading the thick pasty mixture through your soft fingers. You have to be doing this on purpose, Sukuna decides, for you are far too captivating for him to turn away

Sukuna's lashes flutter with a slow blink and the stroke of his fingers over his mouth and chin. You look practically edible standing there, the overhead light of the kitchen illuminating your frame and epmhasizing your otherwordly, enticing beauty. Of all the many ways he has come to learn he can devour your body, each scenario flitters through his fuzzy brain the longer he stares at you, his pupils expanding with possessive want.

You flicker your eyes upward momentarily when you feel a particular shift in the atmosphere, and when you do, you meet your boyfriend's piercing eyes from afar. Your brows quirk and your lips tug to the side with nervous judgment when you catch that dangerous glimmer that can only mean you will not make it out alive when the two of you end up alone.

With slightly widened eyes, you slowly turn your eyes back to the cookie dough and a curious Choso standing beside you with oil spray for the pan.

"You okay?" the twenty-one year old questions slowly and you shake your head.

"Your uncle looks like he's gonna kill me," you exhale anxiously in response. Choso looks up to find what you are referring to, and his face sours when he catches wind of Sukuna's expression.

"Freak," he mutters under his broth with the clench of his jaw, passing the spray over to you amid his sickened glower.

As if beckoning him subconsciously, the brunette watches in something akin to horror when Sukuna lifts his arms from behind him and pushes himself up gradually to his feet. He appears to move in slow motion, hands tucked into his pockets and eyes still glued permanently to you as he saunters his way into the kitchen with heavy strides.

You keep your gaze down, pretending to be entirely too occupied as the salmon haired man slips into the space directly behind you, the strong scent of weed sinking into his cologne wrapping over you. Sneakily, warm palms snake over your hips. They still there a moment, gripping experimentally before trailing around and over your stomach, opting to cling to you this way as he steps his chest to your back and curves his nose toward you cheek.

He takes in a deep breath, inhaling you graciously as his hands wander over your stomach. You feel the tip of his nose and the whisper of his lips graze your skin as he lenas himself down toward the crook of your jaw and neck. His actions are sluggish, a representation of his current state of mind, and he pulls you into his embrace as though he had been seeking so for years on end.

"Can I help you, Kuna?" you murmur, gripping a ball of dough into your palms and rolling it.

He does not say a word. Only a low grunt escapes his lips and vibrates against you, his eyes falling closed. He seems to crowd into you closer, though you are unsure of how that is possible when he already has you tucked into him so securely.

"Just stand still," his voice rumbles into you, lips pressing to your ear in a soft kiss in between his slow words. "Let me feel on you."

You grunt softly when his lips touch your cheek, veiny hands smoothing over your abdomen in gradual circles, one hand sliding back to sooth down the top of your thigh and back up again. "Sukuna," you hiss as heat pinches your body. "Stop, I'm trying to bake," you lean over to shrug away, but he's following you, chasing your lips to the side and crushing his weight down into you, pecking over your jaw.

"No one told you to stop," he murmurs. "Keep going."

You bite down on your tongue, attempting to hide how flustered you have become by Sukuna's behavior, especially in such an open space. You expect nothing less from him, and neither does his family, but hell, he never knows when to quit and it absolutely kills you.

"Leave her alone," Choso rolls his eyes, shuffling away from Sukuna's bulky figure pushing past him to get to you. "She just said she was doing something."

"Yeah, and get a god damn room!" Grandpa demands bitterling from the couch with the raise of an agitated fist.

"You're scarring your family, Sukuna," you say flatly in between the uproar of hatred toward the salmon haired man, to which he lifts his head from you briefly with a mischievous smirk snaking onto his face.

"They'll live," he grins.

"At this rate, you'll be the very thing to keep that from happening and push me closer to death," Grandpa fumes.

"One could only hope, old man."

"Eat shit."

An amused chuckle rumbles through Sukuna's chest and against your back, practically rattling your ribcage. "Can't you all be nice to each other," you sigh as Sukuna turns his focus back down to you. His arms tighten around you, his caress of your stomach over your tank top ceasing to fasten his arms around your waist and drop his forehead to your shoulder. He sways you slightly back and forth, droopy eyes glazing over at the feel of your plush body against his.

"We can't be nice if we constantly get on each other's nerves, (Y/n)," Choso says tiredly. "Or more specifically, if Sukuna pisses us off."

"But that's damn near every day," you raise your brows with a twitch of an amused smile as you proceed onto rolling the next few balls of cookie dough.

"Exactly."

You shake your head, lifting your arms slightly as Sukuna's burly arms wrap up under yours. "Your family hates you, baby," you comment slyly.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, grumbling as he shifts with you. "I don't give a fuck," he murmurs. "What perfume are you wearing?"

"I'm not wearing any perfurme," you scrunch your brows in confusion at his abrupt shift. "Why?"

"Mm," he hums. "You smell good."

"Okay," you tilt your head away when his lips peck over your neck, his teeth eventually sinking down to nip at you. You flinch. "Get off, weirdo!" a giggle slips into your demand, your face scrunching when a hand comes to cup the side of your face to refrain you from moving away from the invasion of his kisses.

"For fuck's sake," Wasuke hisses under his breath.

"Let's go," Sukuna suddenly mumbles into you.

You turn your head to peek at him over your shoulder quizzically. "What?"

"Let's go, woman," he repeats, speaking directly into your ear. "Want to taste you. Now."

"Woah," your eyes go wide as Sukuna moves to feel you up again, thick fingers brushing the hem of your tanktop and grazing over the sliver of skin beneath. "You can't just say things like that," you scold, eyes darting over the room in panic though your own body is beginning to betray you. "Behave."

"Like hell you actually want me to," you can feel him smirk as the sly words leave his mouth, and you shiver, putting aside the last ball of dough you needed to roll. "Come on, peach," he urges rather gently, tilting his head over your shoulder to find the connection of your gaze with his red eyes. You look back up at him, eyes glassy enough for Sukuna to determine that he is getting to you. "Don't be rude."

"Sukuna, you're distracting me," you groan.

"Relax," he urges, "Enough complaining and relax."

His instructions fall on your ear as though he is attempting to coax you into submission, which he has a keen tendency of doing even when he is fully coherent. "At least have the decency to wait until we go home to act like this."

"I shouldn't have to wait for something I already have."

"Around your family, you should!"

"Quit worrying about them and focus on me."

"You make it impossible not to when you hover me like this."

"Good," he kisses the back of your ear. "Now let's go."

"Later," you smile with the emphasis. "I haven't even washed my hands yet."

Sukuna stretches his arms forward from under you, cupping over your wrists from either side and guiding your hands to the left whre the sink resides as Choso busies himself with tidying up a bit. You watch your boyfriend reach to flip the faucet on, then guide your dough coated hands under the water gingerly.

You inhale sharply, ducking your head to conceal your smile as his thumbs smooth your palms clean with the addition of some soap. You can feel his chest pressing into your shoulderblades and the weighted exhales the spread through his body. His head hovers over your own, eyes turning back to admire you as he mindlessly continues to wash your hands.

"God, is that (Y/n) over there? I hope that idiot isn't clobbering the poor girl," Jin's voice speaks up from behind you all at the front door, which had swung open moments before. You all watch him and Itadori shuffle into the space, the teenager clad in his baseball practice uniform.

"He's washing her hands," Choso deadpans, turning to greet Yuji as he walks into the space. The said boy furrows his brow and looks over at the huddled pair of the two of you.

"Really? Why? That's... oddly nice of him," he tilts his head.

"No the hell it's not," Gramps chimes in from the couch, having tuned into the family conversation with the return of his son and grandson.

Sukuna ignores the comments getting thrown around about him, his mind's only sole focus being you and the way your hands trickle over with water within his own.

"All of you shut up. I'm speeding things up," Sukuna slurs, and all heads turn to him.

"Are you high?" Jin raises an unimpressed brow at his twin.

"Stay out of my business."

The living room and kitchen combined erupt into lively chatter as voices overlap one another and some argument about some sports team ensues after an argument about Sukuna's habits. The cookies long having been tucked into the oven flood the space with an intoxicating scent, and as you move around to make sure the space is tidy when you are done, Sukuna does not let go of you once. He's stuck to you, rolling his hands over your hips and kissing across your shoulder, performing rather uncharacteristically gentle as he handles you as though cherishing you in his senses' heightened yet blurred state.

The red eyed man is especially hot on your tail when you step away to the bathroom. The second you make it into the space to prepare to examine yourself in the mirror, the door is clicking shut behind you and Sukuna is making his way over with a gleam of entranced greed.

You go to press your palm forward to catch his chest before he can completely approach you, but your strength proves inefficient against Sukuna's as he pushes back against your hands, lips curved in a lazy smile.

"You need to calm down," you nod with a nervous smile, squeaking when he flies his hands downward to tightly clasp your waist and pull you into him swiftly. "Seriously! Stop looking at me like that. You're gonna get us in more trouble."

"Be quiet, gorgeous," he purrs when your body collides to his with a thud. He hums, sliding his fingers past your hair to settle on the back of your neck, his thumb clasping over the front in a soft squeezing motion. Your smile dwindles slightly as he drags your head forward, his lips parted with a toothy, satisfied beam as you melt down before him. "Give me a kiss."

"No," you breathe out as though you had been holding in air.

"Why? What's the matter with you, girl?" his sultry voice questions rather teasingly.

"It's never just a kiss with you," you whimper. "And I'm not doing anything at your family's house with all of them standing twenty feet away."

"Didn't I tell you to stop talking about them? Hm?"

You chew down on the inside of your lip, eyes flickering to Sukuna's lips. "You never listen."

"I'm listening," he murmurs, brushing his mouth against yours. "To that little heartbeat of yours racing whenever I touch you."

"Kuna," you whisper, his hand giving your neck another soft squeeze. His heavy stare envelopes you in its fuzziness, his surroundings an air of buzzing nonsense yet you are the clearest thing that appears before him, your scent, your body, your face.

"Kiss me, peach," he orders lowly again and you shiver.

"Just one kiss-"

"Mhm."

Sukuna captures your lips in his before you can even finish your sentence, his aroma wafting into you so intoxicatingly that you believe that you yourself could get high off of your boyfriend's presence.

He melts into you, smoothing his mouth over yours passionately, firmly, softly. You cling to his back, leaning backward as Sukuna pushes further into you, his hand catching the back of your head so you don't lose balance with his weight. He's lethargic and heavy, slow with the prying of your lips apart and the slip of his tongue against yours, with the tilt of your head and the generous exploration of his hands over your frame. You almost do not think he can breathe, that he is fighting off air to keep his lips connected with yours.

You release a soft moan when his sharp teeth sink into your bottom lip to drag it out, eyes peeled open slightly to watch the blissful expression of your face.

"Sukuna," you mutter his name once more, only this time, you are unsure if it is a plea or another warning.

The salmon haired man bends down to tuck an arm under your butt, wandering you over to the bathroom counter and seating you atop the granite.

He cages you beneath him with his hands planted on other side of you. "That's right," he smirks. "Keep saying my name like that"

He presses back into you, and you wonder to yourself as you succomb to his will why anyone in this house allows Sukuna to smoke around you, knowing the recurrent outcome.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fandom #jjk fanfic #anime #jjk #jjk season 2 #jjk x you #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff

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etfrin · 1 year ago

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⤷❝ The Quiet Gift | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | squirting, Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, possessiveness, fingering (f. receiving), bathroom sex, mirror sex, semi-public sex (there was a gala), pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), dumbfication if you squint, dom sub undertones, degradation, ownership kink, breath play with a twist | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: continuation of the arranged marriage au, this is your one year anniversary with him with a gala held in place to celebrate, you get insecure because of some bitches and Coryo fucks you in the bathroom with sprinkles of your daily life with him.

⇢☾Request: this is a request (idk if i’m writing it in the write place im new to tumblr i usually use wattpad) young coriolanus snow bathroom mirror sex like him making u watch ur self come undone in the mirror

⇢☾A/N: enjoy everyone! And to one who requested, hope you like this! :) this might be my last post of this theme btw, i am getting sick of the blue :/

arranged marriage au: the study, mine to love

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >

A year had passed of your marriage, a bond between two souls which wasn't much of a lie as before. Things with Coryo were better than you could ever expect. You thought he would isolate himself from you after your confession but so much had changed. He had gotten softer but more possessive. His edges are sharp yet he makes sure it's a shield for you, not something that would make you bleed.

Among his actions include changing your entire wardrobe (not without your opinion first), a library that connects to his office (his office is something you have access to at all times now), his room was now yours both (your favorite change), and last but not least a poison taster was included so that no attempts of assassination at the First Lady could be taken.

At first, you thought it to be extra, but knowing that it would put his paranoid mind at peace you allow it without much to say. He picked out your outfit every day, and sometimes you did the same for Coriolanus. He would frown as you decide what to wear or not for him for the day, knowing that some of the pieces don't match his style but when he sees your smile as you pick out the clothes. He smooths his frown and takes whatever horrible fashion statement you created for him and wears it with pride.

If anyone dared to speak up about it, he proudly said that his wife picked it out and everyone knew better than to speak a single ill word of the unspoken Queen of Panem.

Today was one of those days when you decided to pick his outfit. Today was something special after all. One year had passed since you had become Mrs. Snow, and a gala was to be held tonight to celebrate the union.

So yes, you were going to pick his outfit. You had even woken up early because of it. You giggled as you opened your eyes, your arm around Coryo whose hair looked impossibly messy, sticking out everywhere. It made him look years younger than he was. You chuckled at the sight, your heart clenching with the love you have for this man. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead and then his cheek. You whispered, not expecting him to wake up until his alarm rang, “Good morning, Coryo”

You quietly slipped away from the bed and tiptoeed to the closet. The closet you both shared now. One side carrying every single piece of your clothing and the other side his. You wanted to pick out something different for your husband once, sick of seeing him in his white shirts and black vest. That's how you picked out a black suit with a white vest and a red silk shirt. You could imagine unbuttoning this off of him tonight and the thought made your body heat up and a giggle escaped your lips.

“What are you laughing about, doll?” A voice, his deep sleepy voice startling you. “Nothing!” You quickly said, turning to look at Snow, your breath hitching as his eyes were half closed and his hair turned into a mess of curls. Sometimes you wonder if this was all a fever dream and if you truly have the privilege of seeing him like this. You placed the clothes into a corner and went to him.

You pulled him down, your hand on his nape and another on his cheek as you guided him to your lips. Morning breath be damned. His actions were reflexive with how his arms pulled you in closer as his lips pressed into yours. He smiles against your lips and soon both of your tongues tangle in an uncoordinated sleepy manner and you whimper into his mouth.

This was real. This was your reality and you would do everything to keep it as it is. You pulled back and he whispered, “What was that for, doll?”

“Just needed to make sure this was real,” you answered him. Your words make him crack a real smile, something even you saw rarely and it would only be possible in moments like this. Moments when you have shocked the man with your actions and words and made him fall harder for you.

“Well it is,” he grins. Before his expression clears up he focuses on the clothes you have set aside. “Outfit for today?” He asked. You nod and smile at him, gesturing at the clothes. “You would look handsome in them,” you said. “Don't I always look handsome?” He smirks, you laugh, “I am not falling for that trap, dear husband. I'll be in the shower, choose something for me.” You press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the closet.

After showering and wearing the red dress he had decided, both of you go on for your respective duties. The gala would start early in the day and there were a few hours left before it formally started as guests were already coming in.

The mansion was set up beautifully, no words could have possibly explained the amount of work and dedication to make this the event of the year, valued higher than the Hunger Games itself. In another universe, it may not have been possible, in this one however you somehow managed to crack into his heart and made yourself a higher priority.

You were doing finishing touches of your makeup when Corio came in, his hair slicked back but his body tense, his eyes unable to hide the shakiness in them. You don't say anything, letting the man have his moment of vulnerability. You knew you would mess him up even more if you pointed it out, so you continued your task.

You didn't pay him any attention despite the itch to turn to him. You force yourself to stare straight into the mirror, applying your lipstick for the night. That was until he came behind you, his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, his head propped on your shoulder as you felt him take deep breaths.

You don't ask if anything is wrong, accepting the rare form of intimacy he initiated. Usually, you're the ones for the hugs, the genuine ones anyway. You knew despite everything you were like a math equation to Snow. His mind figured out the formulas to keep you to him forever, you doubted if he saw anyone as his equal but you were perhaps the closest thing to it.

You had accepted it long before, but moments like this when Coriolanus allowed himself to be a human meant everything to you. You fell for every version of him, the one that is an untouchable deity who could kill you without guilt, and the human he was, obsession filling in veins making you the sole objective of his mind as he already achieved Panem.

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths with him. In the end, you were human too and you broke. “What's wrong?” You asked, as softly as possible yet breaking the bubble that had formed.

He smirks through the mirror, his eyes meeting yours, a sense of superiority in the blue hues. “Nothing’s wrong, my doll,” he whispered to you, pressing a ghost-like kiss to your bare shoulder. His arms cage you tighter, making a small gasp on your lips. “Okay,” you smile at him.

“Ready to start the gala then?” You asked, “Snows are born ready,” he replied, his tone smug.

One of his arms was kept wrapped around his waist while the other opened a drawer to take out a small box. “For you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. You opened the box, and in it was a gold necklace with the initial ‘S’. You blush, and leave it to Corio to give you a necklace with his initials for an anniversary gift. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your head turning back and you gave him the brightest smile. “Help me wear it?” You mumbled as you handed him the box.

And so he did, and now a necklace was on your neck, the letter ‘S’ sitting perfectly on your skin. It scratched an innate itch for Snow to see you wear this. A part of him had expected you to fight, and be disgusted by this action, his mind thinking of several ways to make (force) you to wear the necklace. But as always you surprised him with your acceptance, as if you knew that wearing this would help him with his possessiveness. You were truly the right woman for him.

With his arm around your waist, you walk into the celebration. Countless people, the top elites of the Capitol were attending the gala. Everything had to be perfect.

Alas, fate is nothing but fickle.

The rumors didn't catch your ears at first before slowly the whispers caught up to you. Too busy with your life in the mansion and with Coriolanus, you rarely were social. You never had many friends from the capitols' elites. And those who knew were merely allies for the future. So the gossip never reached your ears.

Gossip you knew better to believe. Words change when they travel mouth to mouth. It can be easily manipulated too, your husband was a living proof of that. The snake tongue of all of Panem. But when the words seemed to get louder and louder, you couldn't help but feel maybe it's tinged with truth.

Snow was busy talking to diplomats while you were politely having a conversation with the ladies. That's when the questions began about some things they had heard about Snow. Each worse than the other but nothing you didn't already know. You make sure to change their perspective whenever something new comes up. Coriolanus was still new at this position, anything could snatch the power away if either of you weren't careful.

Feeling like you have finished the job, you begin to move away, only to stop when you hear, “...even wearing a pendant with his initial, she's nothing more than a whore who was pushed up to play the role of the First Lady. A woman of her standing would never deserve such a title.”

It was true, when Snow asked you to marry you, it was sudden and he gained nothing from it. Nothing, no money, power, and just a few connections you had but he had already impressed them all beforehand so there was no need for you. Your history in the academy wasn't all that great either, you were never the best but wholly average. A man like Snow deserved the best.

Insecurity claws at your heart and even so with recent events you knew their words were wrong. Tears burned your eyes. Your hand goes to the necklace you had on, your fingers twirling the pendant. Meanwhile, despite Coriolanus' focus being mainly on talking sweet to the guests and gathering sponsors, his eyes were on you, your every moment, and each person you spoke to. He notices you walking away from the gala and into the hallways. He followed you.

You were in one of the many bathrooms the manor had to offer. You stared at the mirror, the necklace you were wearing, and your hands traveled to the back ready to take it off. That's when Coriolanus enters the bathroom, his footsteps stopping midtrack as you freeze too.

“Coryo,” you begin to speak, your hand at your side now. “I was just-” “Why were you going to take it off?” He interrupted you, his face twisted in a glare you never thought would be directed at you. You shrugged, trying to play casual, “It doesn't feel appropriate.” “Why?” He questioned his tone icy calm, spreading chills down your spine. “Because-” because you didn't feel worthy of it. “Because you're ashamed of me,” he scoffs, walking closer to you. His eyes now fully glaring at you.

You frown, “What? Coryo, no-” He tilts your chin up, as he leans in, his expression twisted in fury, “Then what? There's no other appropriate reason for you to take it off then.” In truth, something was getting lost in translation, the women you were talking to earlier were going to be accused of treason in a few days. The cause? The rumors (some truth mixed in as well) they had spread about Snow. They were invited out of courtesy and after this, they had signed their death certificate.

“It's nothing like-” “Then what?” He hissed, “Did you finally come to your senses? Did they tell you how much of a horrible monster I am? And a horrible president?” You knew some sort of major miscommunication had happened but you had no idea how to deal with it. Not when Snow pressed a harsh, hard kiss to your lips, teeth clashing and his tongue seemingly fighting with yours for dominance that you easily gave over.

“You can't escape me, doll. No matter how horrible you realize I am. Think about running away and it's your dead body that will be leaving this mansion.” he whispered against your lips, his hands on your waist, your body flushed against his as your back hit the counter.

You chuckled at his words, knowing that would never be your end. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and it makes you giggle even further. “Dove, I am not joking,” he said, looking straight in your eyes. “I know,” you smile at him, “You…” you shake your head, smiling, you were surely crazier than him. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Those women said something… mean and it made me realize I may not be worthy of this necklace…” you begin to explain, hoping the explanation would calm him down.

You thought wrong. “You don't think I can decide who deserves to be my property, pet. Whom I let to be my queen,” he said, his tone deeper than before. He whispered, “I decided it's you. It's been a year since that decision and I haven't regretted it once.”

He manovaroued you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is mine. My pet. My wife. How dare you try to take off a mark of my ownership, doll?” You opened your mouth to apologize, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. He begins to press you against the counter, your body bending over as he continues to press wet kisses on your nape.

“You need a reminder about whom you belong to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin making you shiver, heat spreading to your body as his hands unzipped your dress from behind, letting the fabric fall on the floor. “I am yours,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. “Then you should have known better, my stupid bird.”

“You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your breasts roughly, his head propped up to your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and that group of women dies.” They were going to die either way but you didn't know that.

You gasp, “Snow- '' His hands squeeze your breasts harder, bordering on pain. “It’s Coryo for you, dove,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit. At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure.

He rubbed at your clit relentlessly, making you soak your panties with your juices. His other hand squeezes your hips. You whine, your eyes closing and he pinches your clit making you moan louder than you should, your eyes opening immediately to meet his gaze.

“Only warning, pet,” he whispered, his finger now playing with the clit even more relentlessly. Back and forth, up and down with no mercy, making the bud swollen and your pussy clench around nothing. “Yes, Coryo,” you gasp.

“My dumb pet can learn after all,” he whispered to your ear and then his lips kissed the clasp of your necklace. His fingers abandon your clit to swipe at your folds to gather your wetness. He chuckles as he continues to tease you like this, his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Coryo,” you whispered and your eyes connected with his and you knew his fingers could feel the flex of your cunt around nothing. “That's it. Look at me, doll.”

He slipped his fingers one by one into your slit, the stretch making you gasp. “It's too much,” you managed to get out, your voice shaky. “You can take it,” he tuts. His fingers begin to message your wall, hitting every crook and canny you never knew existed. He twisted his fingers thrusting right at your g-spot making you moan loudly, your body was now completely bent over in front of the mirror and your hands gripped the counter for life. Snow continues to playfully stretch you out, scissoring your pussy with his long fingers.

When he finally deemed you loose enough, he pulled his fingers out without a warning making you whimper. He pulls down your panties around your knees, and then his hand unzipped his pant to take his cock out. Something in you liked how he was composed and fully clothed while having you like this, primal and debauched. It showcased Coriolanus perfectly, no matter how prim and proper the man was outside in the end he was as much of a mess.

His impatient was clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling upwards your body to grip your breast like a handle as his free hand guides his leaking, hard cock into your entrance. “I was going to fuck you good tonight, on a bed properly like a wife deserves,” he begins to say as he pushed in with a single stroke. Your mouth lets out a small scream as your pussy adjusts to his dick. “Instead I have to treat you like a whore, bending your ass over a counter and fuck you while there are people all over the mansion.” He shakes his head disappointed, he meets your gaze, “I expected better, doll.”

“Then why keep a disappointment around,” you snapped at him, making him raise his eyebrows at your tone, his cock twitching inside your walls. “I wonder that myself too,” he grunts, his face buried in your shoulder, his tongue licking your salty skin. “You’re my everything,” he whispered, “Don't you forget that, dove.”

It was a confession that made you turn your back and made you catch his lips. He groans into your mouth as both of your tongues play with each other, expressing words the others cannot say. His free hand went to grip your necklace chain, making you gasp as he fisted the chain and pulled at it, knocking at your breath in one go.

His hips had begun to pound into you, short, hard thrusts that made his cockhead press against your g-spot while his remaining length messaged your walls perfectly. “You don't have to think, doll. I am here to think for you. You don't have to think about deserving me, or Panem. You don't have to think at all, just be my bird. My bird only,” he grunts.

Your eyes had begun to see spots from the lack of air, he hadn't seemed to care as your pussy keeps squeezing around him because of it. He lets go of the chain, making you gasp and you take the air you desperately need as his thrusts begin to get sloppier. Coryo was too impatient, too worked up, too mad at you to care about your pleasure. You were a pet getting used and you loved every second of it.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, and he groaned in response, as his thrusts got slower. He was edging himself to last longer, for this not to end. He bites your nape, not hard as he does usually to make sure the mark fades in a few seconds. His hips continue to rock into you, both of his hands now kneading at your clothed breast. He makes your round flesh spill from the bra and cups them with a groan escaping his lips.

“You’re mine,” he said as he pressed wet kisses all over your neck and shoulders, “Mine.” Your pussy clenched around him, making his pace get even slower, frustration begins to claw your mind as your body tethers to the edge. “Yours,” you agreed. “Fuck me faster,” you plead.

He lets out a laugh, “No. You'll take what I'll give.” “Coryo, my love please!” You begged. His hips stutter, making you feel confused, before realizing why he had stopped. You hadn't called him that since that night and you realized you had leverage on the man.

“My love, please! Fuck me harder,” you spill, “Baby, please!” He clenched his jaw trying so hard not to give in to the instinct of rutting into you like an animal. Knowing that he was near the edge, you continue, “Cum in me and make me walk around the gala with your cum inside, please. Please, mark me!”

That did the trick rather perfectly. His hand wraps around your throat, not choking you but staying there as a comforting presence that shouldn't have been comforting at all. “My dumb pet has ways with words. Gotta fuck that out of you, my dove,” he smirked.

His hips begin to roll into you again, making you gasp and squeeze his dick with your slick walls. The start of it was slow and cautious before Coriolanus decided to throw it all in the wind. He takes half of his length out before slamming it back to you. The sound of hips snapping echoed into the air along with his grunts and your moans. He kept fucking into you, with no care about anything.

Both of your sights were obscene in the mirror and it turned you not to end. Your body had begun to heat, your pussy aching to cum after being played with for so long. The tension in your body was close to snapping, and he knew it too. Knew it the way your cunt kept sucking his cock in so well. His head was on your shoulder, his mouth breathing out hot air onto your skin.

“Look at me,” you whispered, and his eyes snap at you and not even a second later he spills into your cunt, fucking his cum into you as he lets out a whine for the first time. You gasp, feeling your build-up fading without snapping but Snow was never to disappoint. He pulled his cock out, just to stuff you with his fingers. You whimper, your sensitive walls twitching around his fingers, so close to breaking.

Coriolanus doesn't waste a second to thrust into your sopping cunt, your folds covered in his cum, and fucking that into you with his fingers. He crooks his fingers perfectly, hitting your g-spot and making you black out for a second as his fingers keep assaulting your insides without a care.

You gasp, your body starting to give up. Snow has to wrap an arm around you to help you stay balanced. “That's it, doll. Cum on my fingers. I will make you cum on my cock later,” he promised to you. You cry out as his fingers continue their fast pace of thrusting. And finally, finally, your orgasm builds up again. A single graze from his fingertip onto your spongy spot has you not only cumming but squirting too.

Even Coriolanus eyes widen in surprise as you spill your juices onto the floor, ruining your dress and everything. You begin to feel ashamed of losing control in such a manner, but Coryo curses, “Fuck, doll. Fuck, that was…” He couldn't even finish the sentence.

You close your eyes, feeling yourself close to losing balance, only for Snow to swipe your legs from the floor and carry you to the bathtub.

“I’ll take care of you, doll,” he said, “I’ll bring in a new set of clothes, wait.” “What about the gala?” You asked. He kissed your temple before he replied, “I told everyone to leave the moment you walked away. Told everyone you were sick and as your husband, I shall be taking care of you.”

You let out a raspy chuckle, it was rather amazing how Coriolanus Snow always turned everything in his favor. Even this would help his image of being a president who took such good care of his wife and would surely take the country to great lengths.

“Snow lands on top,” you whispered to him with a smile.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy

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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago

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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Boothill, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react gn s/o who always makes it a habit to tell him that they love him whenever they can like when they wake up, before going to sleep, before they leave, and when they return?

Welt: loves, loves, loves the domesticity of it all.

It never fails in making him smile knowing just how much you love him, so much so it was enough to melt his heart as he smiles softly every time he heard you say it.

For it never gets old for welt and never will as its quite possibly his most favourite thing to hear.

He feels warm, loved and happy knowing you felt so strongly about him to make a habit of letting him know just how much.

‘I love you too my dear.’ Welt would say with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘So much.’ He adds fondly as he strokes his thumbs against your cheeks as he looks at you fondly.

‘Not as much as I love you.’ You cheeked as you pressed kisses into his large hands.

‘My dear don’t start something we both know you can’t finish.’ Welt replies with a chuckle.

He didn’t want nor need much in life to be happy. He’s a hopeless romantic and this was the easiest way to his soft, old heart.

Blade:

Not use to it at first.

He grows stiff and doesn’t know what to say in response because it wasn’t everyday someone openly admitted to loving him at any given moment.

So the more you do tell him you love him, the more Blade will grow accustomed to having that one special someone who’s seeing his scars and still looks at him as though he were the most beautiful man in existence.

Someone who loved him unconditionally and wasn’t afraid to show it, whether in public or in private settings.

Sooner or later Blade would become addicted to you saying you love him at any given moment and will sometimes not let go do your until you did tell him you love him.

‘You’ve known what I’ve done and yet you still feel brave enough to admit that you love me?’ He asks.

‘I do,’ you replied, ‘and I don’t regret ever admitting that I love you because if I ever did it’d be a lie. I love you beyond words but am forced to use words because there is no action that could truly convey how much I love you.’

‘Then I hope you don’t live to see the day where you regret saying those three words.’ Blade then said seriously as he keeps you close.

‘I won’t.’ You assured him and all he could do in response was chuckle humourlessly and say. ‘Don’t make promises to someone you’ll later regret giving ownership of your heart.’

Sunday:

It’s like music to his ears.

It’s all he wants to hear from you and now he has it, he felt as though he had everything he could possibly want.

He’s selfish with your love and wants it all directed towards him, and so to hear you admit your love for him at every possible opportunity makes him feel more entitled to you and your love.

He don’t want you uttering those words to anyone else other than him for the rest of your life together.

‘Say it again.’ He’d say.

‘I love you.’ You reply.

‘Again.’ He then says with a look in his eye.

‘I love you.’ You reply once more.

‘Good.’ Was all he said before he’d go on about his day.

He often wouldn’t let you leave until you’ve told him you loved him enough to satisfy his own greedy desires.

Dan Heng:

Blushy baby who loves gets all weak in the knees when you say you love him whenever you could.

He can’t look you in the eyes the first time you said it because it took him aback that badly.

Now however Dan Heng only smiles and lightly blushes as he scratched the tip of his nose.

You’ve still got a strong effect over him and he knows that you’ll be the death of him one day with your sweet words and affection. He swears upon this.

He could be doing something a simple as reading a book and you’ll come along, sit on his lap and rest your head against his chest only to casually say that you love him; causing him to go rigid as you could obviously hear his heart go at a million miles an hour.

He swore you got a thrill out of his reactions and seeing him caught unawares, he just knew you did but he couldn’t help but love you for brining light and unexpected joy into his life.

Boothill:

Can’t stop smiling whenever you tell him you love him.

‘Really sugar? You mean it?’ He’d ask.

‘Of course I mean it Boothill, why would I say something I don’t mean?’ You replied.

‘Never mind, just say it once more for your handsome boy?’ He’d try to the quickly change the subject with a smile.

He just doesn’t see what was there to love about him at all but he feared that if he brought this up to you then he was questioning your genuine feelings for him, which wasn’t what he wanted.

He knows you adore him to death but he doesn’t understand what appeal he has going for him when 90% of him was unfeeling metal, and the only part of him that could feel was his face.

It was something that he frequently felt invalidate about, but hearing you say you love him gives him a semblance of confidence that he had been missing after getting his new body.

He needed someone to look at him and think he was beautiful, handsome and above all a sweet soul and that’s what you did, but you also did so much more for him then anyone else had and he didn’t want to throw all of that away because he felt as though he wasn’t worth you.

Gallagher:

Enjoys the moment as much as he possibly can.

Acts like he didn’t hear you the first time when he did just because he wants to hear you say ‘I love you’ in that heavenly voice of yours.

‘Don’t think I caught that one, this old dog doesn’t hear as well as he use to.’ He says with a cheeky smile.

‘Of course he doesn’t.’ You scoffed before continuing. ‘I love you, you old dog.’

Gallagher smiles sleepily as he brings you into his chest for an extra five minute nap. ‘Love you too, you punk.’ He said affectionately.

He loves the moments where it’s just you and him, living in your own little fantasy where no one else besides you two exist, and drinking in the love and how happy you made each other without really even trying.

He loves how playful you can get, how serious you can get with it and for it to always end in you saying ‘I love you.’ A hundred percent of the time.

And Gallagher would love nothing more then to hear you say if a hundred times more in the future.

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sttoru · 1 year ago

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toji with a whiny bratty gf :3

tags. mean dom!toji x female reader. manhandling, mating press, daddy kink, degradation, breeding, size difference, toji calls u ‘little girl’ & ‘ma’ at the end.

you had lost count of how many times you’ve begged toji to forgive you for your behaviour earlier. he had you pinned to the couch, body pressed into a mating press with your big, beefy boyfriend hovering inches above your face.

it all happened because you were acting up while toji was on the phone. he was calling his agent regarding some business and that’s when you randomly decided to be a brat. you were teasing him by ‘unintentionally’ grinding against his crotch as you cuddled.

toji tried to make you to stop by giving you death stares, tightening his grip on your waist and gritting his teeth. despite all of that, you still acted like you didn’t know the impact your actions had on him.

once the call ended, the phone went flying onto the carpet beneath you. you were easily flipped on your back and your clothes were ripped off in under a few seconds. there was a fire in toji’s eyes; you were not getting away from his wrath this time.

“sorry—‘m sorry, daddy! nhhh, sorry!” your hands were clenching onto toji’s biceps, his arms on either side of your body. toji was steadying himself on his arms which made the veins on them even more visible.

your pussy was forced to stretch out and accommodate to toji’s thick girth as he currently didn’t possess the mercy to give you a break, “too late now, ain’t it?”

there was no backing out now. you had asked for it the moment you decided to tease him. toji had given you enough warnings beforehand to remind you of the consequences of such foolish actions,

“where’d that bratty attitude go, hm?” toji scoffs. your confidence from earlier had gone extinct as you were reduced to a whiny, teary-eyed mess underneath him;

“ya really thought i’d let you off the hook after that shit you pulled?” toji mocks you with a mean grin, “tha’s real cute.”

you sobbed and your words were getting a bit jumbled up from the way your boyfriend was using and abusing your overstimulated pussy to release his frustrations, “mmnhh ! n-never doin’ again— never d-doin’ it again,”

your promising words were answered by a simple haughty chuckle. toji knew that you’d do it again. you like to be a brat and you absolutely love the reaction you get out of him each time. you enjoyed the thrill of messing around with a man like him who could easily manhandle you and get what he wants, whenever he wants.

the teasing on your part was all fun and games until it wasn’t anymore and toji’s degrading and fucking you brainless. he always had the last laugh. that’s how your relationship is.

“t-toji— mhhhngg ! please..” your plea was left unfinished once you felt more pressure on your body—toji putting more of his weight on you to hit deeper into your cunt. your eyes rolled back and your lips were parted to let out soft moans instead of proper words.

“fuckin’ pathetic,” toji grunts, savouring the way your small body was struggling underneath him. your entire vision was obstructed by his bulky physique. it’s all you could see through the tears; “my little girl jus’ needed a cock to shut that pretty mouth up.”

you nod along to his words since, at this point, you couldn’t even think straight anymore. it truly felt like you were being broken by your boyfriend as your legs were stuck in the air, his hips slamming against yours in an inhuman pace, his balls clenching as toji desperately wanted to fill your womb up to the brim with his seed—breeding you full, which gave him a sense of ownership over you in the heat of the moment.

and once he eventually finished and dumped his big load into you?

“ass up, ma.”

toji’s already putting you in another position. even if his dick went limp after having his earlier orgasm; he knows he’ll be hard again in under a few seconds. he can easily cum over and over, as long as his semen was well-spent and put in your cunt.

you weren’t going to catch a break today.

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #toji smut #jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk x you #toji x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader

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kaznejis · 8 months ago

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Make it Fun, don't trust anyone- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he visibly failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.” His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”

A/N: Hello! If anyone sees this, I hope you enjoy! If not, this is entirely self sufficing and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. Just to note, sorry if the scenes taken from the movie seem a little..rushed? If there's one thing I do not enjoy it's working out how to incorporate existing scenes into canon compliant fanfiction. The struggle.

Word Count: 6,692 / Read it on AO3!

If you'd like to see more from me about Erik- please feel free to send in any requests! :)

The Cuban sunlight had acted as the perfect antithesis to your situation; the gaping hole that had formed and taken a residual spot within your ribcage as you knelt beside Charles, screaming and crying at the lack of feeling in his legs.

But your eyes had not been upon him.

You had stared up at Erik, stomach collapsing at his stoic gaze; only remnants of his grief were prevalent to yourself, the person that had known him most in the world. That wretched helmet had sat upon his head, his eyes empty with the melancholy of his own steadfast determination.

“Join me.” He had whispered, his lower lip trembling as his eyes finally landed upon you; the first time since you had boarded the plane to Cuba. He had reached out then, his palm splayed towards you; hope swimming in his eyes as he beckoned you forward.

You had simply shaken your head, lips tight and breaths heaving as you held his gaze. You watched as his heart broke, as his eyes glistened and bloodied hands trembled. You watched as he nodded and as he turned away from you. Turned away from the love that you had shared, choosing his own foolish endeavours of revenge over you. Allowing grief to swallow you, you had ducked your head; unable to watch as he walked away, unable to face Charles, writhing in the pain of your lovers’ actions.

That had been it- you had returned to the school. Welcoming and accepting prospective students; working as an administrator and overseeing the school’s board. It had been good, amazing- supplying a necessary distraction to the heartbreak you had endured and a chance to improve your powers, learn from the experiences of others. There, in your reluctant state of happiness, you had met Adam.

Adam, the school’s mutant psychology teacher; specialising in mind-based and largely telekinetic powers. Your curiosity regarding Erik’s powers had led you to him, sitting beside his desk; asking question after question. Questions soon turned into conversations and you soon found yourself being courted. All the traditional romances that had never crossed your mind when with Erik had become your reality; constant flowers, gifts, candle-lit dinners as your heels caressed his leg beneath the table.

Your family had loved him, adored him. They had never met Erik, for obvious reasons, and whilst they were more supportive of your mutant gene than the average family; they had hoped that you would still be able to live the average life. Meaning, that you would acquire the average husband. Your family had practically demanded that you married him despite only being a year into the relationship, the pointed remarks about you being ‘unwedded at such an age’ a constant force at each gathering.

So, you had. You had adorned the white dress, the large diamond ring, and Charles had granted his blessings by allowing you to host the wedding on the school’s grounds. Everyone and anyone that could have possibly been there had been in attendance, a day simply to forget about the wrongdoings of the past, the present and the future.

On paper, everything was perfect.

“Do you ever think about him?” Charles had asked, the night before your wedding, the two of you nursing a glass of scotch each within his office.

You had exhaled through your nose, a lodge forming at the base of your throat, “No.” Despite the pronunciation of such a small, singular word; your voice had croaked, your chest trembling pathetically.

Charles had simply nodded, his eyes flickering; his powers catching your obvious lie. “He’s in prison now, you know?”

You nodded, humming affirmatively, your gut twisting at the reminder.

“Are you sure you want to go through with tomorrow?”

“I do.” You smirked, a failed attempt at humour as Charles had only looked back at you with sympathy, “I can’t sit here and say that Erik is never on my mind but… this is for the best.”

Charles had only nodded, his face twisting as hair fell before his eyes, “He will never bother us again, I will make sure of that.”

Whilst you had thanked him, smile wide and eyes crinkling as you both raised a glass; you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach had swooped in disappointment. The way your chest had heaved with unbridled pain, simply at the thought of never seeing Erik again. You would wrestle with it for the years to come- the guilt of constantly thinking of another man as you lay beside your husband.

Your love with Erik had, to simply put it, been enigmatic; fuelled by passion- both by the mission at hand and the way you felt for each other. There had been awful, screaming fights on the worst days and entangled limbs with scratches lining his spine on the best. You had loved him with every ounce of your being, cared for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t there. Whilst you had endured the worst pains of your life with him, you had also been at your happiest.

It had been toxic, ferocious, you had never known what would come next.

You missed it every day.

You passed the feeling off as pure delusion, your mutant gene playing cruel tricks on your mind as the years passed; as you grew bored. Bored of the same mundane life every day, bored of the simple forehead kisses, bored of that house. You and Adam remained within the dark confines of the manor instead of finding a place of your own following the fallout of the war in Vietnam; acting as support for Charles, who had steadfastly begun to dwindle in both his morality and his health. You had used this as an excuse every time Adam had attempted to introduce the necessary conversation of moving on, settling down. Children. You had deflected his attempts every time, claiming that you needed to be there for Charles, that you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t the right time.

You knew for a fact that the reality lay within your inability to let Erik go, your inability to potentially miss the opportunity to catch a taste of his mere presence again. As the breadth of time since he left and the distance with Adam widened, you thought of Erik more and more. His serrating blue eyes and wicked charm haunted every moment, both awake and unconscious. You yearned for him, worried for him, hated him. You hated him for giving you up so easily, your lack of support in that specific moment signifying the end of everything, defining the status of the rest of your life. Sometimes, during the darkest of nights, the ones where you felt so alone, the nights where the wind howled and the trees drew vines and branches upon the walls- you imagined what it would have been like to join him, to have clasped his hand against yours and allowed him to lead you into the darkness.

Secretly, you knew that following Magneto would have led to your early demise, sometimes you pondered on whether that could have been a better end to your time together than your reality.

But then, as Spring turned into Summer; as the grounds of the manour flourished in their unkempt state and the sun cast illuminations through the large windows- Logan arrived at your doorstep. A mission from the future, unbelievable if not for the pure conviction in his eyes. Unbelievable if not for the grief that haunted his strong features.

You had been completely unprepared when Logan had stood from the chair you had offered him, yourself having been perched on the edge of Charles’ crumpled couch; your legs crossed and hands clasped with worry as he had detailed the horrors he had experienced, the horrors that he was there to prevent. He had paced the length of the table, surveying each resident of the room; you hadn’t missed the way his eyes had flickered between you and Adam; his forehead scrunching before his brows raised in amusement.

“Ah…he warned me about this.” He grinned, flicking a finger between the two of you and scratching at the base of his head. “Kinda weird to see actually.”

“Sorry?” You smiled politely, head swarmed with confusion, you looked over at Adam only to see he bore a similar expression, “He?”

“We need to find Magneto,” Logan spoke determinedly, his gaze fierce, his voice taking a tone of finality. He was serious, conviction overtaking the air as the gravity of the situation dawned upon each resident.

You knew that he was right.

In that moment, you had been able to do nothing but stand and promptly leave the room; abandon the sound of Charles’ manic laughter that followed Logan’s words, Hank’s doubt that tended to suffocate a room. But most notably, you were abandoning your so-called husband’s silence.

Somehow, you found yourself curled beneath your bed covers, arms crossed over your knees like a small child; your form shrunken in your fear and heartbreak and doubt, tremors racking your shoulders. As you attempted to steady your breathing, a knock sounded at your bedroom door. Expecting it to be Adam, you promptly rose from your position; scrubbing furiously at your swollen eyelids.

But to your shock, Logan entered the room.

“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” He held his hands out placantingly, slowly approaching you as if you were a timid animal, “I know you don’t know me, but I know you, Y/N, very well and… I wanted to check you were okay.”

You nodded, crossing your arms and biting your lip as you mulled over the words he had spoken since his arrival, “It’s okay… I just- haven’t heard his name outside of my own head in a while.”

“Erik?”

You smiled, your heart blooming at his real name, the name you had known him by, “Yes… I’m assuming you know about us; I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve witnessed one of our messes for yourself,” He had smiled at that, his teeth glinting as he chuffed in amusement, though you could only stare at Logan, building the courage to ask what you desperately wanted to know, “When, you know, you were sent here… was Erik there?”

“Yes.” Logan nodded.

“Was I?”

Logan nodded once again, though opted to do so silently this time.

“What did he tell you about us?”

Logan laughed properly then, a smile finally breaking across his face, “He told me not to meddle, that your situation is especially… sensitive, at this point.” He scratched a hand across his chin, his expression filled with nothing but pure mirth as he spoke, “Which I can see, seeing as though he’s locked one hundred feet underground and you’re married.” He finished that with a pointed look at your ring finger.

You nodded, that you found yourself unable to match his amusement, unsure of exactly what it was he found funny, “I haven’t seen him in almost ten years.” You shrugged, “When I try to think about it, I don’t even know what he looks like anymore.”

“But you still think about him?”

You sighed, lowering your gaze to pick at the loose threads upon your old bed sheets; you had always been reluctant to get rid of them, the memories that they held with Erik remained too precious. Slowly and timidly, you spoke, “Every day.”

Logan could only nod, an exhale sounding from his nose, “Well, if I can trust anything from my time knowing you; it’s your ability to give that man hell.”

So, the following day; with an overly-energised, overly-excited teenage mutant in tow; Hank, Charles, and Logan had embarked en route for the Pentagon.

“Stay safe.” Adam had spoken as he leaned against the entrance to the house, having opted to stay behind; claiming that the house needed to be watched despite Logan being the first visitor in years. You had simply smiled at him, waving goodbye before turning towards the car; you didn’t miss the way the door had immediately slammed, Adam having chosen to waste no time in ensuring your safe departure. He had been quiet since Logan’s arrival, especially since the mention of Erik’s name and your obvious upset in response.

You feared that despite his promise to protect the house, he would not be there upon your return.

“I can’t believe you even married that guy.” Logan had mumbled, chuckling to himself and shaking his head as he slid into the car’s driver's seat; you could only manage a meager glare- your doubt regarding Adam had been clear even to yourself.

Whilst the others performed the monumental task of attempting to free Erik; you had been tasked with organising the transport from the Pentagon and away, far away. You knew that Charles had orchestrated this purposefully, giving you the chance to see Erik as little as possible if necessary. You had accepted without a fight, you feared that if faced with Erik in a dire situation; you would act impulsively, irrationally. You feared that if faced with Erik, you would be able to do nothing but throw yourself into his arms.

“Not appropriate.” You had mumbled to yourself at the thought, tapping a hand against the car’s wheel; dark aviators high upon your nose as you awaited. Your other hand hung from the drivers-side window, a dwindling cigarette balancing lazily between your fingers; it had been a nasty habit you had picked up in your adulthood, largely to Adam’s chagrin who had banned you from doing so indoors. You began to recognise that the stress of marriage had aged you significantly; the existence of service had overtaken your life in a way you hadn’t predicted.

Just as you had begun to dwell upon your own disappointing life decisions; a loud bustle of noise exploded from the doors exiting the building’s kitchen; you only had a second to rescue your cigarette and balance it between your teeth before the group rushed to the car. Peter immediately sped ahead and claimed the passenger seat, grinning at you cheekily as he slid beside you; though this was quickly diminished when Logan slammed the car door back open, promptly gathering the teenager by the lapels of his jacket and ejecting him from the seat. You could only guffaw as he promptly plucked the cigarette from between your teeth, taking a hasty drag as the rest of the group piled into the back.

You refused to glance at the rear mirror.

“Seriously Y/N?” Charles huffed exasperatedly from what you could assume was the seat directly behind you, the rustling of his jacket prevalent as he attempted to get comfortable in the tight squeeze of seats, “This may be a getaway car but it doesn’t mean you can abuse it to your will with your smoking.”

You gritted your teeth, slamming your foot upon the pedal and pulling out onto the road; en route to the airport. Erik’s presence behind you plagued your mind, causing your fingers to tighten upon the wheel and your toes to curl within your shoes, every hair upon your neck stood ramrock straight as you waited, yearning for him to acknowledge you.

This was what you had dreamed of, every night for years, and now you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him.

A gleam caught your eyes as you drove, suddenly all too aware of your left hand rested on the steering wheel. Your wedding ring still adorned upon your finger, glistening obnoxiously in the afternoon sun. Risking a glance, you rose your eyes to the rearview mirror- only to immediately flick your eyes back to the road before you.

There, in the middle seat, sat Erik- his cheeks sunken, hollow; the effects of years in confinement were prevalent in his every feature. His skin was pale, almost ghastly; his haircut was shaggy, uncaring. But what shocked you the most, what made you pull your eyes away from the man you loved so suddenly- was the way his eyes, those hauntingly blue eyes, stared straight at you, straight at the ring upon your finger. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from squeaking in response, the taste of blood plaguing your mouth as you willed yourself to focus on the road, focus on the mission at hand.

You knew that Logan had witnessed every moment of that encounter, his dark eyes sunk into the side of your face as you determinedly stared forward, refusing to acknowledge any of the people around you. Alongside the stench of smoke, the air in the car was thick with tension- the aura of unspoken words choking every passenger. Even Peter, the usual chatterbox and the one who had spoken your ears off the entire way to the Pentagon had opted to stay silent; instead staring out of the window, his lips twisted in his own display of tension.

As you drove in silence, you became all too aware of Erik’s presence; you found yourself pinpointing his specific breaths, the crinkle of his prisoner-assigned uniform, the shuffle of his legs against the side of your seat, the nervous tap of his finger against his knuckles.

It was a miracle you managed to reach the airport.

Upon saying goodbye to Peter, you determinedly pushed past the front-row seats of the private jet, opting to sit at the very rear of the plane alongside Logan, of which had simply raised an eyebrow and sighed as you lowered yourself before him, “You two are more pathetic than I expected.” He exhibited an air of nonchalance as he lit his cigar, despite the plane now very much being in the sky, and propped open a newspaper upon his lap- though it was prevalent that he found delight in watching the entire situation unfold.

You raised your eyebrows, shrugging your shoulders stubbornly and sliding back against the base of the chair, “There’s no ‘us two’,” To which you complimented with the use of air quotes, “I am married, Logan.”

Logan could only laugh at that, shaking his head, a habit he seemed to have picked up in his exasperation at what was unfolding before him, “You do realise I’m from the future right?”

Scowling, you crossed your arms and opted to sulk at the back of the plane; still determinedly refusing to look Erik’s way- who was now engaging in a heated argument with Charles.

“Do I at least age well?”

“Of course,” Logan smirked, holding his cigar up in a toast; though he was quickly interrupted by the creaking of metal as the foundations of the plane shook; Erik. Logan jumped forward and immediately threw the two of you to the ground- acting as a human shield as the plane began to tip sideways; Erik’s passion overtaking all rational thought as plates and glassware shattered beside you.

“You abandoned us all.” He spoke with finality, Charles lay splayed across multiple seats, his hair a tangled mess as he gaped at Erik. You could only pull yourself back into your seat as Charles left for the cockpit, both you and Logan gasping at each other as you attempted to regain your stolen breath.

“So,” Logan grunted, fetching a new cigar and lighting it, “You were always an asshole then.”

You could only scoff as Erik turned, facing you for the first time since boarding the plane; you noted the way his eyes landed upon anything, anywhere but you.

“I bet we’re best buds in the future,” Erik smirked sardonically, his voice rough with the sudden severity of his outburst.

Logan hummed, puffing on his cigar before offering you a puff, to which you politely declined, “Not like me and your old friend Y/N here are.”

At the mention of your name, his hands spasmed at his sides; his fingers convulsing in a bodily reaction at the mere recognition of your existence. You would have felt excitement, love; if it weren’t for the way his eyes told a different story- cold and piercing as they landed upon you, his cheekbones twitching as he allowed himself a second of eye contact before he abruptly turned, returning to his seat across the plane.

“Jesus,” Logan mumbled to himself, reclining in his seat and widening his eyes at you; you could only nod. Jesus.

With Erik and Charles opting to keep to themselves, the rest of the journey went swimmingly- immediately upon landing you wasted no time in departing from the suffocating air of the cabin; luxuriating in the deep breaths of fresh, evening air that greeted you.

“We need to find somewhere to rest.” Charles spoke from behind you, “The drive to the next spot is too long and we’re all exhausted.” He glared pointedly at Erik then, who simply sighed; as you allowed yourself a glance at him, it was prevalent that he too was plagued by fatigue. His cheeks were more sunken than before, his eyes drooping as he visibly struggled to hold himself up. You yearned to reach out, place a hand on his spine and simply hold him, aid him as he wrestled with the weight of the world upon his back. But then, as his eyes turned towards yours, the weight of the wedding ring upon your finger prevailed once again; you could only turn away.

Hank managed to find a group of last minute rooms at a nearby motel, though as he returned to the reception's waiting area, keys in hand, his nerves were ever-prevalent. “I only managed to get three rooms; two have two beds and another has one, I was thinking-”

“I’m taking the solo room,” Logan ordered, snatching the key from Hank’s hand and sauntering down the hallway, though not without sending a wink over his shoulder at you. Bastard.

“Oh-” Hank froze, the other keys dangling from his fingers- you could only watch as he winced, practically praying for you to forgive him with his eyes, “Charles, I doubt it would be safe for you to be with Erik, so I guess…”

You could only sigh, electing every ounce of confidence you could embody before standing, cutting Hank off once again before retrieving a key from his hand, without turning you spoke, “Well, come on then, Erik.”

You felt his presence behind you, each of you electing to say nothing as you unlocked the haggard wooden door; its hinges creaking as you pushed open the door. Before you stood two double beds, an only-just-comfortable distance between the two. Nodding to yourself, you entered the room, your fingers twirling the keys nervously as you surveyed the room; you felt the air thicken as the door slammed behind you- you felt like prey finally being cornered by the predator.

Erik cleared his throat behind you, the sound thick and grating, “I’ll take the bed beside the door; would you like to use the bathroom first?”

You turned towards him, shocked by his kindness; he could only stare back at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and exhaustion tinting his features. “I- Sure.” You could only croak, opting to briskly enter the bathroom; afraid of irrationality taking over your lovesick mind. Reaching behind the shower’s curtain, you turned on the water before stripping off your clothes, the sound of your ring clattering against the sink as you placed it down caused you to flinch, knowing that Erik would be all too aware of your every move from the other side of the door.

You took your time in the shower, breathing in the warm steam and collecting yourself after the events of the day, collecting yourself in preparation for the events of the night that was to come. You could do this, even if it meant a sleepless night whilst Erik lay only feet away; whilst the object of all of your nightmares lay only feet away. It reminded you of a night, a night a long time ago; in a motel room just like the one you were in, his skin against yours; his breath hot against the base of your throat as he had slowly stripped you of your clothes, as he had kissed every inch of you. It reminded you of his pants as he pushed into you, his groans as he buried his sweat-coated forehead into the skin of your shoulder, biting and licking and sucking there as you became one. The way that he had moaned his love for you into the skin there, your responsive moans loud and uncaring as you had clawed at the skin of his back, gripped at the hair upon the base of his head-

Stop; you shut off the hot water, stumbling from the shower as you panted, your cheeks and chest red with warmth as you desperately attempted to remove the memory from your mind. Gripping the porcelain of the sink, you eyed your pathetic reflection; willing, begging, yourself to let this go, let your silly daydreams go. This was reality, your reality. Getting through the night was the only necessity you needed to accomplish, then you could avoid Erik and promptly never see him again.

You could go back to your husband, back to your life.

Undeniably however, you couldn’t ignore the way Erik made you feel, the way his mere presence made you feel. Adam’s influence upon you paled entirely in comparison, your obligation to return to him simply one of duty, one to appease your family, one to live the ‘perfect’ life- be the perfect wife. But you craved more, you craved better; for years you had chased and yearned for the way Erik’s slightest touch had made you feel- the way that his love encompassed every molecule of your being; the way that he had branded you for life, rendered unable to ever feel the way you had felt with him again. Your thoughts of Erik made you all too aware of how long you had spent in the bathroom.

How long you had spent, very obviously, avoiding him.

You emerged from the bathroom in nothing but the oversized shirt you had packed hastily to sleep in; swiping it from the bed due to the short notice you had received in regards to this trip. You felt bare, naked suddenly as you left the bathroom to Erik’s piercing gaze. He sat, fully clothed, lounging against the headrest; allowing a pen to swirl around his fingers, dancing from pointer to thumb as his wrist spun. Entrapped, you could only stand there and stare; stare at the beauty of his powers, at the beauty of him.

“It feels good,” He spoke slowly, carefully, allowing the pen to drop onto the sheets beside him, “To use my powers again; to feel metal.”

You nodded, smiling politely, unsure of exactly what to say in response. You opted to stay silent, allowing yourself to walk past him and into your own bed, the crinkle of the duvet loud in the silent room, loud within the silence that was swelling between you.

“You aren’t wearing it,” Erik spoke suddenly, his voice slicing through the silence; to your shock. Once you recovered, you simply crooked an eyebrow at him, to which he spoke; swallowing his words audibly, “Your ring.”

“Oh,” You shook your head, staring down at your empty finger, remembering that you had placed it on the sink, “I usually-”

“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.”

His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”

Slowly, at the pit of his lungs, he formed a laugh; his head shaking as his fingers trembled once again, “You think so lowly of me, Darling.”

“You left me!” You were yelling now, rising from the tangled bed sheets as your chest heaved with anger, heaved with the heartbreak and sadness that had plagued you for the consequent years following his departure, “You left me.”

“I gave you a choice, Y/N. You chose Charles, you were more than welcome to come with me.”

You shook your head, scoffing, “Well… if I had gone with you; I would be dead by now.” Your tone held a sense of finality, as supported by your return to the bed as you promptly turned your back to him, curling up under the duvet and refusing to face his reaction to your words. His response followed in the slam of the bathroom door as he promptly left the room; leaving behind the stale air of your own regret.

It felt like hours as you waited, wondered; hoped for him to come back. Hoped for the two of you to forget the words that had been said, to sleep comfortably in your separate beds and complete this mission as peacefully as possible; to go your separate ways and live your separate lives once again.

In the depths of these daunting thoughts, you fell asleep; the exhaustion of the day’s tensions taking hold as your eyes slipped closed. You woke, hours later, to the moon’s rays spanning throughout the room; a ghostly glow hanging in the air as you rubbed at your eyes, glancing to your side, Erik was fast asleep; his sharp edges and soft hair illuminated in the scant light- you allowed yourself a moment, just that moment, to take him in. Drink in the features you hadn’t faced in almost a decade, the features you longed to reach out towards; to trail a finger down his jaw or scratch a nail upon his hair. His hair was wavy, a slightly damp smell filtered throughout the room told you that he too had taken the opportunity to shower.

The thought of his broad shoulders and lean back illuminated by the spray of hot water did nothing to help the swarm of doubt swirling within your gut. Shaking your head, you reached into the bag beside your bed; fetching the box of cigarettes stashed within one of the inner pockets.

Then, barefoot and in just a shirt, you shouldered open the room’s door, balancing a cigarette upon your lip as you did so before promptly lighting it, traversing the motel’s corridors silently before reaching the fire escape. Hoisting yourself upwards, you climbed up the ladders before finally reaching the building’s roof. The night was clear, quiet; the only sounds emerging from the distant highway and subsequent traffic- you listened out for any signs of disruption as you lowered yourself to the roof, allowing your legs to dangle from the side of the building.

The silence of the night and the goosebumps prickling at your bare arms allowed the tears to emerge; it allowed them to pour down your cheeks, for snot to bubble at your nose and for your lips to tremble with unkempt sobs. You allowed for your hurt to take hold, for your hurt at Erik’s words and actions and simple presence to take hold. But then you allowed your hurt towards yourself to unfold; for allowing yourself to end up here, in this situation- living this life that you had manufactured for yourself.

You couldn’t go back to that motel room, but most notably you couldn’t go back home. You couldn’t bear it anymore; the stresses of being within that barron manor were becoming too much to bear. If you couldn’t be with Erik, then you would rather be alone; somewhere far away, far away from here. You stewed upon this thought for a long time, as you lit your second, third and fourth cigarettes; it prevailed.

Just as your fourth cigarette began to dwindle, the slam of a door sounded below you before hasty, alert footsteps lined the hallway. You rose, walking back towards the highest entrance of the fire exit before looking down; listening as the hurried steps continued, haggard breaths accompanying it. Opting to investigate, you lowered yourself onto the platform below before descending the stairs; entering the residential hallway of the hotel. There, at the end of the corridor stood Erik, the obvious source of the worried footsteps as his chest heaved; he was turning in place, visibly searching for something as he rushed down the hallway.

“What-” You mumbled, slowly walking towards him as he had not yet spotted you. Finally, you decided to catch his attention; concerned as to whether there was some form of danger, “Erik?” You called, a hand shielding your eyes as you peered down the dark hallway. You watched as he froze at the sound of your words, his head snapping towards you as he drank in your presence, your appearance.

“What the fuck-” He breathed, immediately shaking off his shock and advancing towards you, practically running as he reached you. Entirely unannounced, he swept you up into his arms; shaking as he lowered his head to your shoulder, practically breathing you in as he tightened his hold by the second.

“Erik, what-”

“What is your problem?” He pulled back almost as soon as it had begun, his breathing staggered as a blush covered his cheeks; he wore only the black tank top and sweatpants he had been asleep in, his hair a mess upon his head; as if he had just jumped from his bed, “I woke up and- and you were gone, your bed sheets were practically stale with how long you’ve been gone I-”

“I’m fine.” You assured, catching his hands between your own as an attempt to calm him down; the worry he had been feeling now prevalent within the staggering of his chest and the blush at his cheeks, “I just went to have a smoke I- let’s get you back to the room.”

He nodded, his glassy eyes immediately beginning to droop as he allowed you to use your grasp on his hand to pull him down the hallway. Upon depositing him into his own bed, as you left to enter your own, a tight grip latched upon your wrist; you turned, only to be met with those blue eyes swarming with desperation, “Stay?”

You sighed, nodding reluctantly before crawling in beside him; allowing him to drape an arm over your waist, allowing him to rest his head upon yours. Before your departure, before the decision would be set; you could allow yourself this one thing, this one night of unplagued sleep as his comfort would ward away the nightmares that tended to tinge your nights.

But, before you could fall asleep; Erik’s voice rumbled above you, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You could only shrug, pressing your nose to his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, “Me too, Erik.”

He moved backwards then, settling so that his face lay directly before yours; the tip of his nose rubbing against yours with each second breath. It seemed that he could only muster a whisper as he continued to speak, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His eyes grew wet as he spoke, his head shaking slightly as he smiled sadly.

“Erik.” You whispered, your voice soft with contempt as you raised a hand to his cheek; brushing away the tears that had begun to fall there. Feeling him swallow against your wrist, you could only watch as his eyes flickered downwards, just as your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. Before you could register, he had moved; his lips pressed to yours as your cheeks grew wet with his steadily falling tears. Your mind allowed nothing else but to kiss back, to shift your leg upwards and to caress his cheek with your thumb. He kissed you earnestly, slowly; as if approaching a terrified fawn, testing the waters as to what you would allow him. You could practically taste the desperation perspiring his tongue, as you assumed he could yours. You would take anything, trade any parts of your wretched souls if it meant that you could feel this forever; feel the warmth of his tongue sliding against yours for every waking moment that remained.

Erik pulled back then, only to lower himself; his mouth hot and needy against your throat, his hands trailing patterns against the skin of your stomach; becoming exposed as your shirt had rode upwards. His ministrations rendered you only able to lay there and pant; to bask in the feeling of being needed, wanted. Truly, ferociously.

As he began to paint a trail of kisses down your stomach, something changed; something shifted in his demeanour. His hands, beginning to pull your thighs upward, were shaking and whilst his lips were forming kisses, they were forming words too. As you raised yourself to rest against your elbows, you finally heard the words forming within his mouth, “Please don’t go back to him.” He was whispering, pairing the almost unspoken words with a gentle kiss to the nearest area of skin; he was crying again, his eyes glistening with fresh, unshed tears as he burrowed his face into your skin. It seemed as if he was afraid to let you go, practically burrowing himself into your being, with the hopes that you would stay.

“Erik, Erik wait-” You spoke urgently, lowering your hand to his chin before pushing him away; he stared up at you through his glassy eyes; his hair ruffled and cheeks rosy. Confusion graced his features at first, though he soon registered the concern in your eyes and realisation visibly dawned upon him.

He removed himself from you then, moving to sit at the end of the bed; the duvet splayed around his waist as he sat with his legs crossed. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, wiping at his mouth and running a finger over his teary eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N, I- it’s not my place to tell you what to do.”

Instantly, you crawled towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and settling yourself into the space between his legs; you felt his cheeks crinkle as you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, but you could still sense his confusion, his doubt. “I knew I would be leaving him the moment Logan mentioned your name, whether you were coming with me or not.” You stroked his hair as you spoke, caressing your fingers through the thin tendrils of oaky brown hair that adorned your lover's head. Erik grinned then; his teeth shining as he practically mooned up at you, he kissed you again then; pulling you in and deeper into his lap.

Before you could push him onto his back, before you could lower yourself upon him and mobilise the groans that would fall from his mouth; he abruptly straightened up, untwining his hand from beneath your shirt and raising it in the air- your wedding ring flew towards the two of you, hanging in the air before Erik made a flicking motion with his fingers; you could only gape as the ring flew through the open window and into the darkness of the night.

“Erik!” You squealed, hitting at his chest as he laughed loudly, unabashedly. Despite being secretly pleased, you couldn’t allow him to know that. “That was expensive!”

“I can find you better,” Erik grumbled against your chest, burrowing his head into your shirt and inhaling unashamedly, “That one wasn’t you anyway, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that ghastly thing on your finger.”

The only response you could have mustered in that moment was to shove him back against the bed; silencing him with the warmth of your own mouth.

#this goes out to the 3 magneto fans that exist #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr #x men #days of future past #michael fassbender #magneto #erik lehnsherr x y/n #erik lehnsherr x you #marvel #writing x men fic is so funny cause these people old af....LOL #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lensherr x reader #erik lensherr

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