Sejanus Was Surely A Cutie At The End😭 I Love Him Sm And Coryo Is So Hot When He Kiss Her Btw

i think this is my favorite picture of him i am so obsessed with this man i can’t even function HES MY LOCKSCREEN LIKE

True

i absolutely hate being called honey for a few reasons but i‘d do anything to get called honey by sam claflin/finnick odair.

you cannot put tom blyth with blond curls AND buzzcut in front of me and expect me to not be blushing for almost 3 hours straight

Gyeong-seok + daddy kink + cnc or manipulation 👀

You were being a brat at the mall all day. When finally, Gyeong-seok pulled you out and dragged you back home. The moment you guys stepped into the door he was all over you, hands running down your sides, hands on your tits.

He grabs your arm and pulls you upstairs into the bedroom. He pushes you onto the bed and crawls on top of you. “Do you think it’s funny to be a little brat all day?” He growls. You decide to test his patience and nod. He slaps you across the face.

He’s quick to pull your skirt off. Next is your panties, then your shirt, then your bra. You whine at the cold air hitting your skin. “Aw, is my little princess cold?” He says. You cross your arms and pout. “Jesus Christ..” he mutters under his breath. He drags a finger along your slit, forcing a shaky breath out of you.

He shoves two fingers into you. You try to push him out, and he grunts. “Don’t you dare try to push my fingers out of this pussy, got it?” He growls.

He pulls his fingers out and wipes your juices on your inner thighs. He pulls his dick out. You try to close your legs but he grips your legs and quickly pushes them back open. He tries to slide into you but you’re squirming too much for him to. He holds you down.

“Fucking bitch.” He growls. He finally slides into you and you whine. “Say you like this. Say ‘yes, daddy’” he says, gripping your jaw. You nod. “Say it!” He shouts, slapping you across your face with enough force to make your head jerk to the side. “Yes daddy..” you mutter “good girl..” he says, rubbing your cheek.

He starts thrusting, slapping the side of your thigh, leaving red marks on your sensitive skin. You grab onto his arm, shaking. “Little girls getting sensitive? Well that’s too damn bad.” He says, giving a few particularly hard thrusts, causing your back to arch off the bed.

He pushes down on your stomach, making you stop arching your back. “Please let me cum..please..” you whimper. “Oh hell no..you were a brat, so you don’t get to cum.” He mumbles. You pout. “Pout all you want, whore.” He continues to slam into you

He goes a bit too deep and you squeal. He slaps his hand over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna hear it.” He grinds his hips into you, going as deep as possible as you whine and shake. “Too deep..!” You say, but it comes out muffled into his hand. “Too deep, what?” “Too deep, daddy..!”

“Oh what was that? You want more, you say?” He starts to thrust faster and harder. “Shit..I’m gonna cum in this little cunt..” he groans as he throws his head back, painting your walls with his hot cum.

He slips out. He moves down to look at his cum dripping out of you, your body convulsing a bit, babbling after being fucked stupid. “Such a stupid little whore..not stopping daddy from fuckign her even if she doesn’t want it..” he mutters as he pulls your panties up. “Don’t you dare let that fucking drip out.”

oh, how i love angst fanfic

HELLO SO UM LOVE UR WORK BUT I DO WANT SOME MORE ANGST IN GENERAL SO IWAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO A THING WITH THE WHITEBEARD PIRATES AND STRAW HATS WERE A TEEN READER FUCKING dies, uh yeah just like reactions and stuff if you don't feel comfortable with making that type of angst that's completely fine too!!! But urm yer 🦠🗣️

—Whitebeard Pirates & Strawhawts x teen!reader (platonic)

—Summary: It is said that when you are born you set your destiny, but why did it have to be so cruel to you?

—Warnings: blood, dead

Ohhh, It's not like I don't want to write angst, but I feel like I'm not good at itttt 🤚🏻 (sorry for the delay again)

—Time is something immovable, something that humans cling to without knowing if they are wasting it or taking advantage of it.

—You never thought that you wasted your time with Whitebeard's crew, not a single second was wasted.

—Because when no one was looking, in the middle of a colossal battle, your blood spread like water spilled from a glass, taking your life without mercy, the only thing you saw were happy moments with your crew.

—Your breathing became slow and your vision focused and out of focus, seeing how in the distance almost the entire crew ran to save Ace.

—You were one of the many corpses found in Marineford, maybe even one of the first people to die.

—Your captain always warned you of your recklessness, you were still young, you made mistakes and you let yourself be carried away by the wind of life.

—It's a shame that it passed in a flash, so sudden and unexpected that no one knew you were gone until the waters calmed down.

—You hadn't been the only one, but the living couldn't even see you for the last time.

—Izo preferred it that way, he preferred to have a vision of you in which the sparkle in your eyes remained intact, in which you joked with him.

—He preferred to think that in some way you lived but fled before you could die, but deep inside his being the uncertainty of your death would remain.

—Marco was the one who decided not to tell anything, because when he found your lifeless body it was some time after the events, among all the people, you remained there with empty eyes.

—He had to look away, it had already been painful for him to have to bury his father and friend, now you too.

—You stabbed him in the heart when he saw your inert posture asking for help even though you were rigid, you looked like something he hadn't seen in a long time, a normal scared teenager.

—When he buried you next to Ace and Whitebeard he wondered if he could have done something to save you, or if your destiny was to die alone with no one to ask for help.

—Whatever it was, you wouldn't be so alone up there.

—The helplessness and anguish of seeing your partner and friend beaten to death is something indescribable, Luffy was burning with rage as he saw the scene with his own eyes.

—It was only seconds, but it was enough for there to be no turning back.

—Zoro, Sanji and Luffy took charge of finishing off the person who had beaten you until you were unrecognizable and useless.

—It didn't matter how much Chopper ran, how much Nami and Usopp cried, not even Robin's last hug could stop all the pain that spread over your body.

—Brook, Jinbe and Franky remained serious, a little more on the sidelines, they couldn't hear how you begged for it to end, for them to end your pain, for them to end you.

—Luffy got angry with you for saying those things, he was the only one who was desperate to make you see reason when your conscience was already abandoning you.

—The others knew it, they knew that there would be no chance to see you laugh, joke or smile again, that their last image of you would be a miserable plea to end your suffering, with your body bruised and covered in blood.

—Zoro had to hold Luffy to calm him down while he looked somewhere else but you, unable to accept the reality of another loss.

—Nami hugged your body until it stopped being warm, holding it despite the stained clothes, she didn't stop crying on your shoulder and caressing your head to calm you down, even knowing that you were already gone.

—The worst thing was seeing your deep expression of pain, your inevitable suffering and desperation to leave was a scar that left a mark on everyone.

—No one spoke for a couple of days after your death, everything felt colder and emptier, after all you were just a teenager trying to have a good time, looking for adventures with friends. Why? Why you of all people?

this is just *chef kiss*

I love your writing sm and was wondering if you could right a Finnick x reader where she’s not very experienced and he has to teach her how to ride him and is just super fluffy and sweet? 🫶🫶

this is such a good request… oh my lord. (this is so long, my apologies, but this had my brain WORKING!)

it started off with you in finnick’s kitchen, sitting at the table with an open book disregarded to the side. you were picking at your nails, nervousness racking at you, knee softly bouncing. finnick was out, helping a local fisher distribute catch to the neighboring shops. you weren’t sure when he’d return, but curiosity and nerves prickled under your skin; your face and neck hot from the previous chapter you’ve read in that book. it was a novel that caught your attention at the market a few days ago, the owner promising a ‘good time with that lil’ gem.’ so, with little to no persuasion, you bought it.

it was a beautiful read, as far as you’ve gotten. until you reached a chapter where the main character had a girl on top, riding him—the man doing hardly any work. you gasped, immediately pushing it off to the side. it wasn’t a lie that you lacked the experience, finnick loved you no less, of course. however, it didn’t help the guilt that tickled at your lower stomach, always letting him do the work. as skilled as that man was, with you not even coming close. you had sighed, slumping a little bit lower into the chair. wondering what you’d be like in the woman’s position, you assumed it’d be as artistic as the main character described it. how the lady’s thighs would shake, but she was persistent, chasing her own pleasure she had earned from working so hard.

you heard the door open, immediately sitting up and head snapping towards the direction of finnick’s appearance greeting you. “hey,” you squeaked out, before clearing your throat and going quiet. kicking off his boots, finnick’s brows knitted together in question. “hey, honey…,” he took in your nervous and rigged state, letting out a worried, “you okay?” either be honest with him or stay quiet, you thought, your eyes leaving his to examine that dangerous novel. he called your name, approaching you slowly, thoughts running between one assumption to the next. “uhm,” you started, before reaching out for the book, turning a few pages back, “can you—uh, please read this.” and finnick nodded, taking the book from you.

a few minutes had passed, only hearing the sounds of pages turning and your own labored breathing. “okay,” finnick said, setting the book down gently and turning to you. he crouched down when you refused to look up at him, so he was at a level to properly see you. “are you okay? did that make you uncomfortable? i can return it—,” you cut him off before he could continue, looking down at him and saying, “i want to do that.” finnick couldn’t help the small curl of his lips, face visibly softening from his own previous anxieties. “with you,” you clarified, hands reaching out and cupping his face. “i’d assume so,” he mumbled before leaning in to kiss you.

he had taken you to the room, reassuring you almost twenty times since you’ve situated yourself, still clothed, on his lap that you could stop anytime. you nodded, shutting him up by kissing him. it went on for a while, kissing him, until you experimented and ground down onto him. the friction was oh so sweet, and you continued at a slow pace. you moaned into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. finnick’s hands reached under your shirt, hands gripping onto the soft fat of your hips as he pulled you down—grinding up against you. “more, need more,” you breathed out. it didn’t take long for finnick to undress you, disregarding his own clothes somewhere. it also didn’t take long for you to reposition him against the headboard because, “i want you to be comfortable.” he smiled, giving your forehead a soft kiss as you lined yourself up against him.

when you lowered yourself onto him, tip entering your wet heat, you wondered why you were so nervous. it felt like any other time you and finnick had shared the bed together—until he started getting deeper. until he started reaching places missionary wouldn’t allow. “oh,” you exhale out, finally bottoming out against his base. it was so much all at once, your eyes slipping shut as your forehead fell to his shoulder. “sweetheart,” he groaned out, clenching his teeth when you fluttered around him. “how are you feeling? is this okay?” and you nodded, “just need a minute,” you whispered. after a few moments, you experimentally moved your hips. letting out a small whimper, you repositioned to hold onto his shoulders, head moving up to look him in the eyes. “you feel so good,” he leaned closer to mumble against your lips. his words encouraged you, hips starting to pick up a soft pace of moving up and down.

finnick’s eyes were so full of love, never looking away from you. his hands move up to your waist, grip slightly tightening as he helped you—noticed your thighs starting to tremble. “you’re so good, pretty girl,” he moaned, setting a pace himself to meet yours. “always know how to make me feel good,” and you threw your head back, nails digging little crescents into his shoulders. his mouth found your neck, leaving wet and messy kisses against the smooth skin. “finn,” you sobbed, becoming sloppy with your movements, so close to reaching that high finnick introduced you to. “that’s it, like that,” he encouraged against your neck, feeling his blissed out grin. you clenched around him, one hand coming down to play with your abandoned clit.

“fuck,” finnick murmured, thrusting up into your tight heat as he fell over the edge. you soon followed after, your fingers on your clit being brushed away by finnick to replace them with his own. “good girl, such a good girl for me,” he talked you through it, your thighs shaking as your chest fell up and down against his. when you came, you swear you saw stars, the whole world becoming so small—only you two existed.

that novel was right, riding is a form of art.

Dom Coriolanus live in my mind rent free

y/n calls him coriolanus…he’s not pleased.

smut ahead :) contains: spanking, dom!coriolanus, bratty!subby!reader.

"... and you are not to drink from any bottle that i have not provided for you, do you understand?" coriolanus followed you around the small apartment, fingers working open his collar with a huff.

you reached for your earrings, fighting back an eye roll. he'd been nagging you since the moment you exited the party. a list of infractions, corrections that needed to be made by you.

"there have been rebels about, and i will not have you poisoned." coryo snapped, an icy gaze that bore into the back of your head. your slumped shoulders, rounded with defiance and annoyance- like he was boring you. "are you listening to me?"

"yes, coriolanus." you snapped, an edge to your tone that had him bristling with anger, fist clenching at the use of his full name. not the loving endearments you always gave him, the nickname he allowed you to use with him.

the room went still. you knew it was bratty, that was half the reason you did it, but you also were annoyed. the chill in the room had you fighting back shivers, and you didn't dare turn around. you knew if you did, he'd be glaring at you.

"i beg your pardon?" coryo gritted. you tensed, feeling his radiating heat of fury from behind you.

you were torn. part of you wanted to obey, fall into submission at the mere sound of his tone. the other part of you was buzzing with excitement, thighs pressed together, throbbing with the thrill, the temptation of pushing him a little further to get what you want.

"what?" you played coyly, turning to look at him as innocently as you could over your shoulder. "i said i understood, coriolanus. what-"

coriolanus' hand seized your jaw, pulling your gaze to his furious one, his own jaw flexing fury. "have you forgotten yourself? talking to me in this manner?"

you blinked at him, rounded eyes that looked so sweet. lips twitching as you tried to fight back a smile. "why are you upset," you paused, heart skipping with excitement. "coriolanus?"

the final straw that had coryo yanking you out of your seat, a bruising grip on your arm as he hauled you over his knee. skirts of your dress flipped over your head, his hand relentlessly raining down over your bottom, fury filled slaps to each cheek. you mewled, squirmed, pressing against his leg to raise yourself, only for coryo to push you back into place. you knew he could see the arousal between your legs, slick with excitement, the throbbing making your mind blank.

when you were sniffling, mascara running down to the rouge on your cheeks, coryo stopped, shoving you into the mattress, impaling you with his cock. splitting you open with every sharp jab and roll of his hips.

"you don't ever disrespect me in that manner? do you understand?" coryo sneered, your hands pinned above you in his grip. "you refer to me how you're supposed to, or you will not refer to me at all."

you whimpered at the threat, mind swimming with pleasure with each punishing roll of his hips. "do you hear me?" coryo sneered, hips snapping into yours, a jab so sharp you could feel it in your heart.

"yes!" you squealed, eyes already glazed, still teary from your spanking.

"yes, who?" coryo challenges, head tilting to the side. he stilled for a moment, hovering above you, looking down the slope of his nose at you.

you blinked, gaze meeting his. "yes, coryo, i-i understand." you whispered.

he smirked, satisfied to have broken you, got you back into line.

match made in heaven | c.s.

pairing : coriolanus snow x scheming!reader

request: can I please have a mean!reader with snow whose absolutely obsessed with each other!!!!

IN WHICH — coriolanus snow isn't nice but neither are you. it's a match made in heaven.

"it was enchanting to meet you. all i know is, i was enchanted to meet you" - t.s.

w.c. 500+

warning(s) : snow being snow ✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ authors note istg im so obsessed with this man and it's not even funny

you hated him. you absolutely loathed coriolanus. now, that’s not to say you didn’t applaud his little performances or the way he could manipulate others around him to get what he wanted–because yes, it was impressive–but you hated how absolutely enchanted everyone was with him. 

there was no one at this stupid school or in the capitol that didn’t give him the attention that belonged to you. hell, even dean highbottom, who could give you a run for your money on how much he loathed snow, spent all his attention on that: hating him. you didn’t see what they saw. what was so special about someone who was named corioANUS snow?

you were so much prettier than he was, smarter than him, better in every way that mattered. you knew how to work the crowd to do your bidding. when others threatened your place or standing, you knew how to get rid of them quietly and efficiently so that no one knew it had been you behind it. 

of course, you were the top of the top. you didn’t understand all the fuss about him. one of these days, you were going to snap if one more teacher preached about “how perfect snow’s essay was!” or “how handsome he was!”. 

of course, you don’t know that while you obsess over the man, he’s doing the exact same. because look at how perfect you are! all he can think about is the fact that behind every innocent smile and kind act you hide behind, he can see the callousness and manipulation that you are. 

the man’s practically in love with you because for once, he doesn’t necessarily need to pretend to be nice or sweet. add to the fact that you're the perfect match for him when he becomes president of panem. man has already bought the ring that he’ll propose to you with one day.

that is after he’s made sure you won’t tell others about how crazy he truly is. he cannot risk his plans falling down the drain even for you. so, when you're on your way home, he’s got you pinned to the wall starting a whole speech about what would happen to you if you said anything. 

that’s when you fall in love. hands pinned to the wall as he’s threatening your life. what’s more romantic than being told you’ll die if you say anything about him? Well, him pressing a rough kiss to your lips as you stare at him. 

“are you out of your mind?”

“only for you, darling, only for you.”

y’all, are both whipped for each other from then on. 

you both collude from there: you need someone gone? snow doesn’t need another word, he's already making sure they're gone. because nothing is going to bother his sweet, sweet girl. he’s slightly unsure of how to proceed with something? you create an ingenious plan so quickly the man kisses you to high heaven because he’s so in awe. 

when he does become president of panem, the man just cannot get enough of you. he’s never loved you more but now all he can think about is how good power looks on you. when you walk into a room, you instantly capture his eye. he swears he’ll die before you ever leave his side. 

he’s still not a good person though but neither are you. you’re both a match made in heaven.

Mistake.

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 3.2k words

SMUT 18+ ONLY | murder, manipulation, dubcon, mutually assured destruction, some bondage, gun violence. everything, really. danger!

The floor of Coriolanus and [Y/N]’s bedroom used to be hardwood. She would hear him on his way in when he worked late at the Citadel. The creaking floorboards typically snapped her out of sleep. Recently, Coriolanus decided on carpeting the room, full well knowing that he often woke up [Y/N] with his returns. If she stayed asleep, she asked less questions. The carpet was rich and purple. Tastefully purple, like a mauve. Coriolanus did not tolerate tacky like most ‘Capitol Phonies’ as [Y/N] called them when he would get agitated with couture, fashion and consumer trends.

When Coriolanus entered the room tonight, he was not concerned with waking his lover like usual. He was furious and he wanted attention. Coriolanus threw the door open with a bang. He came in like a shot. [Y/N] sat bolt up right in bed at the unexpected noise so late at night. She went from asleep to over alert. With practiced ease, she yanked open the bedside table’s white drawer and reached for the handgun Coriolanus had gotten her as an anniversary present. The wife of a young Senator couldn’t afford to take risks.

[Y/N] extended her arm, pointing the gun where her tired eyes spotted movement and undid the safety. She blinked once. Then twice. It was clear that it was Coriolanus, not a murderer. Not a murderer that would do her harm, anyway.

“Fuck!” Coriolanus said, raising his hands in surprise. “Darling, it’s me. Drop it!”

She would have known his footsteps if he hadn’t put in carpet.

“Coryo, good god. Don’t do that!” [Y/N] screamed. Instantly, she snapped the safety back on and dropped the gun back in the drawer. “I could have shot you! What time is it?”

“I—I don’t know! Late!” Coriolanus shouted and shrugged his jacket off. “Fuck!” [Y/N] watched his burgundy coat smack into the wall as he tossed it in frustration. Coriolanus didn’t usually get visibly angry. Instead, he got cold. There was door slamming sometimes to end an argument, maybe dirty possessive sex, but normally, he became calculating vile to be around instead of petulantly rage-filled.

Today must have been a bad day.

He almost got shot to top it off.

“I’m sorry,” [Y/N] said like she was attempting to defuse a bomb. She had only had to speak to him like that once or twice in her years of knowing him. Normally, Coriolanus found that tone condescending. “Coryo, come here.”

Coriolanus made no mind of her words. He continued to pull off his clothes a layer at a time clumsily. He pulled at his hair, he groaned sounds of anguish barely below a holler, he even threw one of his beautifully polished shoes across the room. Real, adult male rage. The kind you stayed away from.

“Coriolanus Snow, you’re going to hurt yourself!” [Y/N] shouted. “You’re gonna… hurt me, or break something. What’s wrong with you?” [Y/N] said cautiously while she climbed out of bed in her nearly transparent red nightie.

Coriolanus breathed heavily. He was trying to sooth his anger. He knew this behavior, this blackout rage, was unbecoming. His eyes focused on [Y/N]’s, and then [Y/N]’s throat, then [Y/N]’s dress, and what was visible under [Y/N]’s dress. His breathing slowed a bit and he pushed his loose curls out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You still with me?” [Y/N] asked, stepping into where he stood. “Coryo, look at me,” [Y/N] commanded. She reached out with a hand as if Coriolanus was a wild animal that might bite her and slowly placed it on the side of his cheek. Gently, she guided him to look down at her. He stared down at her almost expressionlessly. [Y/N] reached up with her free hand to tucked Coriolanus’s long hair out of his face. “What happened? The truth, preferably.”

“Where… Where’d you get that nightgown?” Coriolanus deflected.

“Bought it last week.”

“It’s very striking on you. You aren’t cold in that thing?”

[Y/N] shook her head and dropped her hand from Coriolanus’ face. She thought her window for some sort of talk about why he had behaved like that had latched closed. “No.” She sighed. [Y/N] spent another moment examining Coriolanus with her eyes to make sure that he wasn’t hurt or completely falling to pieces standing before her in merely his crisp black pinstriped trousers and belt. Once she felt her once over was sufficient, she turned to walk back to the bed to lay down.

“I… I lied to someone when I should have told them the truth,” Coriolanus started as [Y/N] climbed back under the pristine white covers on their bed. “It was a miscalculation and I suspect it’s going to take… work to… eradicate the rest of problem entirely.”

He was incapable of saying ‘I made a mistake and my actions have consequences’ like a normal person. All the same, relinquishing that information cost him a lot emotionally. He didn’t share burdens. Coriolanus didn’t share anything.

“This was another Senator?”

“It involves another Senator, yes,” he said. “It’s inconvenient.”

“Fix it,” she said. There was no more advice to be offered on the subject without argument and she knew that Coriolanus would fix it, by whatever means necessary. [Y/N] patted the bed beside her again. “Come to bed.”

Coriolanus climbed into bed stiffly and laid beside [Y/N]. He settled for laying in an uncomfortable, temporary position because he did not expect to fall asleep in his pressed slacks. She wrapped an arm around him and yanked him on top of her, forcing his head to rest on her chest. Coriolanus liked it when [Y/N] let him use her like a pillow. [Y/N]’s heart went so fast when he was near like that. Coriolanus wondered if it was because she was afraid of him. He smiled.

“Did you get this nightgown for me?” Coriolanus asked. He traced the sheer fabric around one of [Y/N] nipples and watched the bud become stiffer with every rotation. He did that to her, not some no-talent, inexperienced Senator who probably couldn’t keep his own dick hard.

[Y/N] scoffed with her bottom lip captured between her straight teeth. “Who else?” She said plainly.

“You got all dressed up in this and I didn’t even get home on time, huh?” He said, sounding almost disappointed. Coriolanus’ finger slid under the strap of the dress and snapped it against her skin.

“There’s always tomorrow. It’s not like I don’t live with you,” [Y/N] chanced sliding her fingers into his hair. Coriolanus often hated when she touched his overly manicured hair, but [Y/N] knew he found it soothing in a moment of private vulnerability. She knew he liked the attention. [Y/N] tangled her fingers in his white blonde hair, combing out the product he had put in it that morning to hold it in place. Coriolanus let her. “You’re so tense. Relax.” [Y/N] said.

“Can’t. Go back to sleep, Darling. I might go for a run, think.”

“…You could discuss your miscalculation.”

Coriolanus was silent. That was a no without saying no. [Y/N] tugged his hair carefully in frustration. “Please stay here with me. If you go out, I’ll be all nerves til you’re properly back with me,” She said. “Stay. I’m awake now… Blow off some steam. The adrenaline of pointing a gun at my husband’s going to keep me awake for a while too.”

“I never should have bought you that,” Coriolanus said firmly, but maintained a smirk. “If I stayed with you all day, you would have no reason for needing the gun. You wouldn’t ever have to wear clothes either. Well, what you’re wearing now is hardly clothes to begin with.”

“I’m sorry. About the gun, not the nightgown,” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus stole kisses across parts of her exposed and covered chest. Eventually his mouth came to rest over her clothed left nipple, with his teeth giving it a gentle tug. “Coryo…” [Y/N] whimpered.

“You want me to relax, here’s me,” Coriolanus leaned up and kissed [Y/N]’s lips. “Relaxing.” He smirked.

[Y/N] genuinely never did know if Coriolanus was out-of-his-mind obsessed with her, or if he told her what she wanted to hear because that kind of talk made Coriolanus feel better about himself in a roundabout way. Either way, she got something out of it, so complaining at this stage felt unimportant.

Sustaining two deluded minds in a relationship meant both parties had to consistently 1) lie, 2) obsess over minutia, 3) fuck.

See, it wasn’t love, but it wasn’t just fucking either. The pair could not love. Something had happened to each of them that made real romantic or intimate compatibility impossible. Their intentions for the other weren’t selfless, but they mutually let other believe they were.

They were perfect together.

They had unified strength, a need for control and that beloved little thing that made them work: obsession; fundamentally. To hear one of them talk manically about the other, was to see the face of God. To each of them, the other was the only person who had ever kept them from getting bored, so they made it work. It was the endless chase that kept them going. That, and a constant need to outdo the other. Daily, they engaged in a delicate pantomime of intimacy and all their world was the stage.

“Did you hurt someone, honey?” [Y/N] moaned as Coriolanus kissed her, bucking her hips up. “You only act like this when you’ve hurt someone. Y-you, oh fuck, you know I don’t care.” She said.

“Cut it out.” He snapped.

“Who.”

“How many times before have I told you not to ask?” Coriolanus said, pulling his lips away from her chest and instead leaned back to bury two fingers inside her wetness to affirm his point. He had already noticed she hadn’t been wearing panties under the translucent nightie, so it was easy.

[Y/N] inhaled sharply at the abrupt stretching sensation and shut her eyes. “I wasn’t asking, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus stretched her further, eliciting an explicit moan from [Y/N]. She clawed at the fabric of the only stitches he had left: his trousers.

Through gritted teeth, Coriolanus choked out “Festus Creed.”

“Festus?” [Y/N] said as she sat up on her elbows. They had known him since they were children. Coriolanus didn’t stop fucking her brutally with his hand. “Coryo… You didn’t.”

“He said something he shouldn’t have and he took his coffee too sweet to notice before it was too late. The only worry is if someone saw. Eyes everywhere. It was too public.” Coriolanus grunted. He felt himself getting hard from watching his wife fuck herself on his long fingers whilst he confessed to killing a childhood companion.

[Y/N] knew it was in poor taste to feel so good from hearing something so awful. She did not care because who was going to judge her in the privacy of her own home? She let out her most wanton moan yet when Coriolanus pressed in a third finger. He knew had an advantage in the conversation considering their current position. Coriolanus knew exactly what she wanted and that he was not going to get her to cum just from the penetration of his fingers. Effortlessly, he slid his thumb over her clit and rubbed it quickly. “W-why…” [Y/N] tried her best to sound coherent.

“He wanted something that wasn’t his.” Coriolanus muttered, leaning his mouth into [Y/N]’s bare neck.

This could have meant Festus had coveted her, or that he had coveted the presidency. Whatever it was, Coriolanus didn’t like his foods to touch and took care of the problem. [Y/N] let herself believe that out of the possible options, it was her that had gotten in the way of the two men’s relationship. It made her grin an unfortunate grin.

“Coriolanus, you sh-shouldn’t have d-done that,” [Y/N] said. Her thighs were practically shaking. “That was a mistake.” She tried. It was a mistake. Logically, she knew that. [Y/N]’s quivering hands unbuckled his belt. Carefully, she slid the fine black leather through the metal fixings and soft fabric loops. It stayed clutched in her hand.

“What was a mistake?” Coriolanus asked coyly. “This?” His hand slid out of her, making [Y/N] yelp at its absence.

At least [Y/N] was able to think clearer without his hand in her folds. [Y/N] clutched the belt in her hands tighter. “Fuck you.” [Y/N] said. She sat up further causing Coriolanus to lean back further. Her temper flared. She hated how much Coriolanus liked it when she got angry. Of course none of her feelings were really her own with out Coriolanus’ desire and interests. Her temper escalated until she could feel a full throbbing in her left armpit and side. [Y/N] also hated how aroused she still felt. Her friend was dead, after all. She sent a silent prayer to Festus, wherever he ended up.

[Y/N] knew this desire she had was going to be a challenge, but she wanted to punish Coriolanus carnally. Everything was too easy for him as it was.

When Coriolanus sat up against the fluffy pillows and the metal headboard, [Y/N] wasted no time climbing into his lap. She stared seriously into his blue eyes for a moment and leaned into his ear. “I’m extremely disappointed in you.” She said.

Nervousness coursed through her veins. Coriolanus was going to be very upset with her. She grasped Coriolanus’ left wrist in the same hand that held his belt. In one fluid motion, [Y/N] grabbed Coriolanus’ other wrist and clutched them over his head. She pressed his wrists together and linked them with the belt. Before she locked the belt on itself, she pushed his beautiful pale hands against the metallic headboard she was so familiar with chained to herself and cinched the belt closed fast enough to rash up Coriolanus’ delicate wrists.

Coriolanus looked at her in stunned shock. He tried to pull against the belt once.

Twice.

Three times.

It jerked the metal bedframe with a crack.

“What the fuck is this?” Coriolanus said through gritted teeth.

“Punishment. You… I… I said I was extremely disappointed in you. You created a significant amount of unnecessary stress because… Because what? A man I’ve known since I was twelve wanted to share your toys? Is that it?”

The crease between Coriolanus’ eyebrows deepened and his eyes. [Y/N] popped the button on Coriolanus’ pants.

“Now, I’m gonna get some pleasure out of you if it kills me. For my sake, not yours.” [Y/N] said. She shimmied Coriolanus’ pants and boxers down to his knees. Coriolanus wasn’t making this movement easy for her with his wriggling.

“[Y/N], get me out of this. Now!” Coriolanus commanded. At the noise, she grabbed his cock and circled her thumb around its head a few times. He was a leaking mess; he liked this more than he implied. Coriolanus let out a whimper, whether from pleasure or being emasculated. Either would do.

“No.” [Y/N] said softly. She released his cock and climbed properly back onto his lap and slowly sank all the way down on his painfully hard cock. Coriolanus was tall and broad so it was never a surprise to [Y/N] that he was so big. She herself moaned at the familiar stretch of taking him in all the way. [Y/N] rolled her hips to compensate as she settled. [Y/N] chose not think about the consequences for what she was doing. She thought about Coriolanus instead. She glanced down at Coriolanus. Of course he looked frustratingly gorgeous. He always did. His hair looked extremely tousled and his eyes were truculent. His jaw clenched in a grimace of some passionate emotion.

[Y/N] had never seen Coriolanus below her like this. She liked it.

Coriolanus thrusted his hips up, but [Y/N] sat still, not dignifying his need with a response. “No, this is an apology. This is for me now, not you.”

“[Y/N], please—“

Begging so soon?

[Y/N] fucked herself on his cock sharply. Repeatedly, she lifted herself high and slammed herself back down his length. She had no idea sex felt so good in this position.

“Coryo, I want an apology for whatever this is. You should be ashamed of what you’ve done. Are you?”

Silence. He looked away from her.

“I asked you a question.” [Y/N] whispered when she leaned in to bite Coriolanus’ earlobe.

“No.” He said. [Y/N] leaned back and struck him with her open palm. She smiled to herself as she did so, thinking of the night of their engagement party. How striking his pale face always looked with the contrast of a stiff red mark on it.

“[Y/N]!” Coriolanus shouted at the stinging sensation, pulling at his restraints. Coriolanus hated not feeling in control. He wanted to hold [Y/N], to squeeze her, to devour her alive.

[Y/N] leaned to clutch his bound forearms, bouncing up and down sickeningly fast. “You’re not ashamed? Guilty? You think this is deserved, this cruelty?” He didn’t have to answer for [Y/N] to know he didn’t feel ashamed. Coriolanus couldn’t feel shame quite like that, only self pity. He let out another moan at her words. [Y/N] clawed her nails down his biceps on a journey to his abdomen. “Coryo, apologize to me.” She purred.

“I…” Coriolanus started to apologize, but [Y/N] began sucking brutal hickeys on his neck first, then collarbones. He could barely string a sentence together at the sensation. By the time he had four blossoming bruises on the marble column of his throat, he was writhing beneath [Y/N]. He was getting frustrated. Every time he tried to buck his hips naturally (or desperately) into hers, she refused to move or acknowledge until he stopped.

“Fine! I’m sorry!” He spat, barely conscious of his words.

“For what?”

“F-Festus.” He said quietly.

“What was that, honey?” She teased, twisting one of his nipples.

“Please don’t make me talk about another man when I’m fucking you…” Coriolanus whimpered. “Undo the belt, Darling, we can—“

“Too late. What are you sorry for?” She said, rolling her hips into his. “Tell me you’re sorry or there’s no chance I let you finish.”

“Festus!”

“Louder!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry about Festus. It was a mistake. PLEASE! Let me fucking cum!”

He wasn’t sorry at all. While he came into his wife, all Coriolanus could think about was how awfully good it felt to kill someone if it meant his wife would be on him like this.

—

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This is so cute stop😭😭

Pure as the Driven Snow || Tom Blyth x Singer!reader

Summary: You surprise Tom as you sing Pure as the Driven Snow at a concert that he watches.

You’ve had the idea for quite a while now after watching the new Hunger Games with Tom. Rachel even thought it was a great idea as you practiced the song with her without Tom knowing.

You were at a concert in London, Tom slightly to the side of the crowd as he watches you like the supportive boyfriend he is. The crowd screamed the second you stepped on stage as you performed your songs with them, Tom singing along as he takes videos and photos of you.

Just as everyone thought the concert was going to end, Tom included, you speak up. “I have a little surprise for everyone,” You smile as you hear cheers, “I’m going to sing one final song,” You say as you grab your guitar.

You look directly at Tom as you start playing the tunes to the song as the crowd erupts in screams, immediately recognising the tune you were playing. Tom stood there stunned.

“Everyone’s born as clean as a whistle,” You sing into the mic as you close your eyes, really feeling the music. Tom’s eyes never left you. He watched with a smile during the entirety of the song as he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

“I’ve taken some hits, so no wonder I’m wary, It’s why, I need you,” You direct your gaze at Tom who looks at you with so much love in his eyes. Fans catch the interactions between the two lovers as they record it and take photos, going absolutely crazy. “You’re as pure as the driven snow,”

Tom takes a moment to feel his cheeks, they were hot as he smiles like a silly man at you. He had no idea that you were going to sing this at all. “This world goes blind when children are dying, I turn into dust but you never stop trying,”

You were an incredibly talented singer, everyone knew that. Your voice was perfection, perfect for this song as if it was made for you to sing. Your singing entranced everyone in the crowd, including Tom. “It’s why, I love you,” You once again direct your entire body towards Tom. “you’re as pure as the driven snow,”

You couldn’t help but slightly let out a laugh as you sing when Tom blows kisses at you. Fans caught this on camera as they screamed, finding the two of you so wholesome. The moment you finish the song, Tom wastes no time on running up on stage and sweeping you up from your feet, you giggle in pure bliss.

“I loved it,” He says in your ear over the loudness of the crowd. “I love you,” You take either side of his face in your hands as you stare at each other before he kisses you deeply. You almost got carried away until you remembered you had a crowd of hundreds watching the both of you.

~

“Tom, everyone knows how your girlfriend, Y/n Abrams sang one of the songs from the movie, Pure as the Driven Snow was it? At her latest concert, can you tell us a little more about it?” Tom rubs his jawline as a smile makes it to his face, the memory of you singing that song to him still fresh on his mind.

“Yes uh well first of all, caught me by surprise that’s for sure,” He chuckles. “I’m a lucky man, she made me fall even more in love with her if that is even possible,” He admits as the interviewer smiles at him.

“Made you fall in love with me even more?” Was the first thing you say when Tom picks up the call. You hear silence on the other end before you hear his laugh, making you smile. “It’s true what I said darling,” Tom huskily says as you play with the ring he gave you on your finger.

“When are you coming back home, I miss you,” Tom could hear the pout through your voice as he chuckles. “On my way home right now, sweetheart.”