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#((*Always sunny theme plays*
incorrect-hs-quotes · 11 months
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Dirk: How do I ask someone out?
Roxy: Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what, my bed has room for two.
Dirk: No
Dave: twinkle twinkle little star, we can do it in a car
Dirk: Stop
Rose: Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily I can make you scream.
Dirk: I feel like the last one is verging dangerously into serial killer territory.
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heybiji · 2 years
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“I was hoping I could see you,” his voice cracks, “Or hold you.” He sounds desperate, so much so that it embarrasses him.
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sunlitsorrows · 8 months
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ART YOU MIGHT BE THE BEST THING HUMANITY EVER CREATED
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faeriekit · 10 months
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undead-potatoes · 3 months
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So glad I don't have to function at a job while my brain is sorting itself out with these SSRIs, not only would I not get anything done but I'd probably start shit with half of my coworkers for no fucking reason
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pikslasrce · 11 months
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time to learn how to make the absolute worst silliest 3min soundtrack for my experimental film for this workshop >:3
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gctchell · 7 months
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@fearedelight asked: "Niffty, dear, do you require ssome asssisstance?" Sir Pentious for Niffty, whatever she's struggling with the snek is here to help akejnagkjn
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The ship was.. big. It wasn't the size that had her stumped -- no way! -- buuuut it was the fact that some of the things on it were a little out of her depth when it came to cleaning and mild repairwork. Alastor was the facility manager, but Niffty honestly had no idea if this fell in his jurisdiction, or hers. So, the maid stood there on the corner of the Hotel that met the enormous boat embedded deep into its construction, popping her lips at the corner of her cheek. Shoot.
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That's when her knight in shining pinstripes arrived! Niffty craned her head back and looked at Sir Pentious with her enormous eye, tapping her feather duster against her chin. "You could say that. Any idea how to repair a ship?"
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blimbo-buddy · 7 months
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saint forever damns their world to experience samsara
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adriles · 1 year
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i will eventually meet my death in this desolate place. its inevitable. the question is if i will come to regret my choice to live for glory rather than peace while in the house of hades
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oflolth · 10 months
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❝ i know somewhere quiet. somewhere intimate. somewhere we can…indulge in each other. ❞ // Sen
baldur's gate 3 ; @starlatan.
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she regards him blankly for a few moments before understanding dawns. " it's the forest, isn't it? your special intimate quiet place is the forest? " sen hums, mulling it over. " alright, fine. and if a bear tries to eat us, we eat the bear. "
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sugarfreelilac · 13 days
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༘ The Virgin Suicide diet ₊˚
;𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒷𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇˖˚
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-—-‎ ♡₊˚ All day you spend alone in your room, drowning in loneliness, magazines and love songs. You know so well the imprisonment of being a girl, mind always active and dreamy, stomach empty and fluttery. Play an old record, flip through retro fashion catalogs, and write poems all day in swirly cursive lettering. Why eat when you could daydream?
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diet tips
༘ 𐙚 wake up late so that you naturally fast part of the day.
𐙚 daydream instead of eating: journal in pretty writing about your thoughts and desires.
༘ 𐙚 consume between 300 - 700 calories each day.
𐙚 eat small amounts of simple, yummy foods that you enjoy.
༘ 𐙚 take long walks, appreciate beautiful scenery, and write poems outdoors.
𐙚 find inspo in magazines. you can also distract yourself with vacation pamphlets and ads. cut out the pictures and make a collage of places you want to go and the person you want to be.
༘ 𐙚 only do exercises that are enjoyable for you, such as dancing in your room, playing a sport, walking, or swimming.
Something like this…
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Breakfast
You wake up slowly at 12 pm. Harsh sunlight beams at your window through the elm trees that line your street. Take the time to put your hair into beautiful waves or curls. You pluck your eyebrows, remove peach fuzz from your cheeks, and put on some strawberry lip balm. Before you know it, it’s afternoon and you haven’t ate anything.
Go to the kitchen and take your time to plate a slice of bread with ham and light mayo (~200 cal), or a small salad with tomatoes, avocado, and some feta (~120 cal). Then you return to your room and listen to old records, sipping on a diet coke (0 cal).
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Lunch
Find a popsicle in your freezer (30-150 cal) and take it out into the sunny front yard. Watch your gardener trim flower bushes at the end of your driveway. Walk down your street, observing your neighbors, picking flowers, and watching birds perched in elm trees. Find a field and spend some time sitting there writing poems.
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Dinner
You return home hours later. The table is set with salad, baked lemon chicken, and mashed potatoes. You put some on your plate (~200-400) and eat slowly, entirely disinterested in the meal. You’re busy thinking about school, your crush, or something pretty you want to buy. When you’re done, excuse yourself and go to your room.
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Late night drink
After dark, drink some peach schnapps or sugarfree soda. Go outside, watch the stars, and listen to old love songs.
-—-‎ ♡₊˚ inspired by @honeysugarfree’s themed diets :)
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readychilledwine · 4 months
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Odd One Out pt 2
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Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner Circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.
Warnings - 10 year time jump, groveling, Fluff, reader forgives Azriel, loosely edited (Liz will fix and check for mistakes she and her friend missed with fresh eyes 💕)
A/N - forgive the name picked for Kal and Vivienne's daughter. So many of you are playing with Disney princess themes I couldn't shake it.
Odd One Out pt 1
✨️ Azriel Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️
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Dawn was beautiful. In the past 10 years, as you had toured the Realm performing, you had realized that quickly. Every court always brought you back to Dawn. Every High Lord brought you back to Thesan. Thesan had allowed you to build home here, welcoming you and your talent with open arms, and tonight was a true testimony of his love for you and your music as he paid you a high honor.  
Thesan had spent the day hosting the quarterly High Lord's Meeting, and tonight, his gift of relaxation to the other High Lords was you, your orchestra, and a night of candle lit music, champagne, and food. 
You smoothed out the dress Thesan had commissioned for you tonight. An off the shoulder tulle number with long sleeves. It was soft and buttery, flowing with every step. The top hugged you perfectly, and two long slits sat on each leg, exposing them and the heels you were wearing. The fabric was a soft white color, a stark opposite to your conducting gowns in the Night Court. Jewels were sewn into the fabric, dripping down your body like you had been wrapped and bathed in starlight. The only sign of your home was that star-like glow and the earrings Azriel had bought you many years ago. The rough diamonds set in rose gold had backs that dropped on delicate chains with another diamond sitting at the bottom. “something delicate for my gentle girl,” he had whispered that sentence to you, letting it sink into your skin and mind. 
How odd it truly felt to compare that moment to when Azriel sat there in silence as Elain lashed out against all you had built, all your hard work, studying, you're very being. 
You took a deep breath, silencing your nerves as the theater went quiet. Dinner had been served, drinks flowing left and right, and now it was time. You watched as you musicians took their places, sitting and preparing themselves as well. Most had followed you from Night, and last you tragically heard, the Rainbow had grown silent in your absence. The new musicians ranged from every court, every walk of life. You smiled fondly at what you had remade, at their outfits so finely crafted of black fabric and silks. 
Thesan took the stage next, doing something Rhysand never had, “High Lords and Ladies, faithful emissaries, friends. After a long day of tense negotiations, words said in anger and frustration, and Rhysand's horrible father jokes,” a loud “hey” came from the audience making you laugh softly, “I could not think of a more enchanting way to end our night. A decade ago, a talented female came to me, offering to exchange a week of shelter and security for her playing music nightly for my court.” 
Thesan looked so softly towards you, “An offer many of you would go in to receive as well as she traveled our lands studying our music and history. Her talent had touched my fae and myself so deeply that when the time for her to make a home base came, I was honored when she approached me and built this theater to her exact wants and needs.”
He continued after a long breath, “Tonight is her first performance and opening night. I felt it would be wrong for anyone besides all of us to see her newest pieces first. Pieces inspired by every court, by all of our stories, of our fae’s stories. She wrote a collection of 7 songs, for us, about us.”
Silence refell over the room, a quiet appreciation for what they were about to see. “Without further ado, y/n.”
Clapping began as the faelights turned off, and candles took their place, glowing and reflecting off your gown. You bowed gracefully before turning and raising your hands as soon as Thesan took his seat. You began the concert in Tamlin's court, playing a piece inspired by his own love of music and the sounds of a spring storm. The music rose before a gentle fall where everything became more gentle as if it was quiet after a hard rain. You couldn't see as Briar took his hand at the swell, the soft moment where the violin went from the jig of a fiddle to the formality was a reflection of the moment Tamlin's dreams were lost to him, but new dreams began.
Summer was a symphony to the magic of bioluminescence. The sound was heavily inspired by the night of laughter and fun you had watched Varian and Amren enjoy. It had been the ancient female's first time seeing the ocean turn to waves of stars, and Varian had hired you to play for them that night. She cried as a familiar harp solo came, one that she had turned to Varian on one knee as you played it. 
Autumn was the sound of battle and passion. Eris's rise as high lord was captured in every note, every building drum. The high lord openly smiled during the peak. The moment where drums of war faded to the sounds of peace. The sound of peace after war was shown through a soft wood flute playing. An instrument that was born in Autumn's halls.
Winter had been the most unique to compose. Kallias and Vivienne's story was so well known, but their daughter, their darling Elsa, the 10 year old princess, was an unknown and protected factor. You took a deep breath before beginning this piece and looked to the white-haired girl, “For you,” you said softly to her bright grin. Elsa had written on sheet music for you during your stay there, lyrics to accompany the notes on your page, you held out your hand, welcoming your only singer for the night. The song was a desperate plea, a singer begging to be noticed for who she was, for her talent to be noticed before her beauty. You had picked the singer based on how young and fragile her voice sounded, the way it truly felt like a cry as she begged to be looked at for who she was. 
Dawn's turn came and the music felt like taking flight, it encompassed the thrill of the air, of an early morning sunrise adventure. The piece left you breathless due to the amount of movements it took. It was intricately layered and as lively as Thesan's court while maintaining an air of class. 
The Day Court was music of love and sex. Tender moments mixed with playful notes and chords that screamed sensuality. The tone was overall seduction, but moments of tenderness came through as well. It was a tribute to the biggest flirt you knew. The biggest flirt who became the most faithful husband. 
You were left with one court. You turned to begin your thank you and took a deep breath, “Over the past several years, you all have welcomed me into your courts and homes with open arms. You allowed me to study the music of your homes, your culture, and learn to play them to perfection. For that, I will always be grateful and so humbled by the generosity and kindness shown to me.”
You took a deep breath, stilling the last of your nerves. “My story begins in Night, though. My childhood began a long friendship between myself and someone who pushed me towards my dreams. This last song is dedicated to him.”
Azriel heard as Rhysand held his breath. He watched as his brother laced his fingers with Feyre. Feyre began to cry immediately. Of all the songs you composed, this one held the most strings, a clear call to Rhysand and your humble beginnings in the streets of the Rainbow playing. Azriel watched you in awe. 
You turned and a voice you had heard countless times played through magic. It was the moment they had met and a soft purr of, “There you are. I've been looking for you," echoed before the music began.
10 years, 10 years without even so much as a whisper or note. He watched you move with grace, watched as a violin sang softly. The tune was a call to the Inner Circle, and before Azriel could stop them, his shadows began to dance. 
Every movement of your arms and body was like watching liquid starlight sparkle and gleam to the fantasy inducing tune you had created. As your hands fell to indicate the end, Azriel felt his heart stopping. 
It was the bond that drew him to you. 
It was the years of friendship, of quiet nights listening to you play for just him, or long hours with you hands over his, so soft and warm, teaching him to play piano. 
It was the fact that he was in love with you. And he realized he had been for a very long time. 
Kind, talented, beautiful, you. 
He watched as you wiped a few quick tears as you and Rhysand held eye contact. He felt his breath hitch as you bowed during your queue before walking out. 
The orchestra played a familiar tune as everyone stood to leave and feyre began to cry. You had played this song during Feyre's first Starfall, hoping the romantic tune would have been enough to make the high lord and his mate kiss. It became a song they begged you to play every second they could. Rhysand held Feyre while looking at Azriel. 
“Get. Her. Back.”
You did not attend the after party. Seeing the Inner Circle had been too much. You had hoped that after all these years, that pain would be gone. You leaned against your balcony, humming a new tune you wanted to write. A shadow caressed your skin as you moved inside and sat at your harp. “I know you want me to play your song.” The shadow swirled and began to dance as you plucked the taunt strings. 
“You spoil them.” Your breath hitched at that familiar voice. “Don't stop,” Azriel sat down in the corner of the room. “They've missed dancing for you.”
You let out a shaking breath and began again, watching with a soft smile as the shadows weaved and played. The sight always memorized you. They always memorized you. These beautiful shadows were more like children than darkness. Each had a personality, a voice, a preference in instrument. You finished and lowered your hands.
“Elain is probably wondering where you are.”
Azriel rose a brow, “Elain and Lucien are on their honeymoon, sailing the world.” 
You knit your brows. “I'm sorry. I know you loved her.”
“Not the way I love you.” Silence fell over the room, “I have loved you for so long and been blind to it. I will never get back the time I wasted in my stupidity. I will never be able to take back the hurt Elain caused you.” 
You went to open your mouth and speak, “No. I want you just to listen to me, y/n.” You nodded and looked at him. “I love you,” he stated it like a finality. “The bond snapped for me the night you left, but in your absence, I have realized I loved you long before that blessing and that I would love you long after.”
He paused and continued, “I was silent when Elain spoke to you because I was in shock, but that isn't a good enough excuse. She hurt you, and I stayed silent. I will never forgive myself for that, so I do not expect you to. I'm not even worthy of asking you for a chance to make things right, but I am here as a desperate male. A male who wants nothing more than his mate, his love.”
“Azriel-” 
“Listen,” he moved to you, getting in his knees before you and taking you hands in his. He placed one on his face and smiled. “I dream of this gentle hands, of the joy they bring. I dream of you. Of your love and light. Your heart. When I sleep, I pretend I can hear your heart dancing for me, luring me like a siren spell.” 
Your bottom lip trembled and a tear fell, his love for you poured down that neglected bond, warming every inch of your being. “Azriel..” 
“Y/n, I am so sorry I wasted so much of your time, of our time.”
You threw your arms around him, holding him tight as he continued. “I beg you to allow me to try to make this right. To show you how special you are to me, to our home, to our family. I am begging you for just a chance.” 
His words left like a healing and soothing balm on unseen wounds. “Our family is at a party just below you. Waiting for me to either come back with you or to mourn the loss of you forever. Tell me what I am doing. If I have failed us.”
The party was in full swing as Rhysand watched Nyx and Feyre dance. He held his empty whiskey glass, debating on another one when perfectly manicured hands grabbed his empty glass and placed a full one in his grasp. He grabbed that soft hand instantly, “y/n darling.”
“Rhysand,” He turned and kissed your palm, violet eyes on yours. You continued the greeting softly. “Your presence makes my mind sing the most beautiful song.”
Rhysand held back tears as he answered, “And my heart longs to hear you play it.” He nuzzled your hand. “Come home to us.”
You sighed happily as Azriel rested his hand on your back, “I believe we can negotiate that." 
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp
Odd One Out Taglist:
@gabbiskylar01 @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @blacktreacle22 @buttermilktea11 @heartless-tate @nerdy4itall @eep500 @tele86 @cleverzonkwombatsludge
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nyctoaerah · 3 months
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⋆♱⋆DOLL SMITTEN
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SYPNOSIS: In which, Suguru Geto can’t bear to let you go and was unable to accept your death, so he made a doll version of you instead.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Dark themes, Disturbing things, Stalking, Unhealthy Obsession, Slight Gore, Suguru is a total creep, not so normal ‘dolls.’
PAIRINGS: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Fem! Reader
SERIES MASTERLIST
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━━━━𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒.
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━━━━𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 them earlier to “attend to important business” probably to massacre some non-sorcerers — or some of the curse collecting monkeys had come, the hasaba twins grew bored in his absence.
It was dreary outside the manor walls after all.
But it was more boring inside.
Thus, the twins had wandered the sunny courtyard, swatting lazily at browning blossoms drifting down from the gnarled cherry trees and played some idle games to waste time, but fuck, was it pure torture not having suguru for two reasons.
One, they had no one to bother.
Two, there’s currently no electricity.
And damn, did they missed Suguru.
“How boring,” Nanako grumbled, coffee colored eyes heavy with discontent as they drifted towards her sister. Mimiko lay nearby, back pressed on a tree with her eyes fluttered closed and her small doll hugged tightly to her chest that heaved with every breath.
Nanako pouted to see that her sister was already adapting in suguru’s absence.
“C’mon, mimiko! don’t sleep on me yet,” Nanako implored with a slight whine, as she placed a hand on the brunette’s shoulder and began to shake.
At the sound, Mimiko opened her eyes, long lashes fluttering up.
“I know... we’ve got nothing to entertain us,” she said with a sigh to match her sister’s mood. 
“So let’s just sleep instead.”
“Boring!”
Nanako said as her eyes scanned the sky, looking at the clouds and trying to find anything stimulating when a question suddenly popped unbidden into her mind.
“Mimiko,” She called out. “Have you ever wondered about Master Geto and why he always kept his room locked?” she asked.
At the name, Mimiko’s brow furrowed deeply in thought, her gaze drifting away slightly as she contemplated about nanako’s words.
It was true that suguru had always kept his room locked, and no one was permitted entry to his private place.
“Like, aren’t you curious?” she asked, tipping her head in a way that caused strands of caramel to spill over her slender neck.
“I mean, why would he keep it locked all the time?” 
She leaned back against the old oak tree, placing both hands behind her neck in a leisurely stretch.
Mimiko tightened her arms around the doll in her lap, peering at her twin from beneath long lashes.
“Come on, nanako... stop insinuating stuff,” she scoffed, though a spark of curiosity flickered in her eyes despite her words.
“We should respect Master Geto’s privacy.”   
Nanako pouted theatrically, jutting her bottom lip out in a look Mimiko knew meant trouble — the girl was probably planning on snooping on suguru’s room.
“I’m not! I hold him in the highest regard! I love him too much to talk shit about him”
“Well then, if you hold him in high regards then learn to respect his privacy.” she muttered, wanting desperately to change the subject but unable to look Nanako in the eye.
Although, mimiko is curious, and as tempting as it was to give in to curiosity, she knew better than to poke her nose where it didn’t belong.
Mimiko gave nanako a dismissive wave, but nanako just wouldn’t budge.
“Indulge me just a little, Mimikoooo!”
“Can’t a girl be curious...?”
Mimiko rolled her eyes, trying her best to ignore the images that now flashed behind her lids — images of what stuff they might find in his room.
“Fine, fine,” she sighed, shoulders slumping
“I do admit that at times i kind of wondered about it..” Mimiko admitted slowly,
“but i mean, he has every rights to keep it locked. and want no one to enter. It’s his room after all.” Another heavy sigh escaped her.
“Mimiko, what if Master Geto is hiding a dildo in his room?” Nanako blurted out bluntly, her words dropping like a bomb.
Mimiko’s eyes widened in disbelief, her head whipping around to face her sister.
“What.” Mimiko looked flabbergasted as she stared at Nanako as if she had just sprouted a third eye. The idea seemed ludicrous, almost comical in its absurdity.
What the hell is wrong with nanako?
And why on earth would it matter if Suguru had a dildo hidden away in his room?
“What would he even do with a dildo? I mean, he has a...” Mimiko’s sentence trailed off abruptly as she let out a frustrated sigh, her hand meeting her forehead in exasperation.
“Even if he did have one, it’s none of our business,” Mimiko stated firmly, trying to reason with her sister.
“Come on, Nanako, we really shouldn’t be talking about this kind of thing, it’s wrong — we’re underage for fuck’s sake...”
“Hmph...” Nanako huffed, she knew that Mimiko had a point.
They both knew they shouldn’t be discussing this. Suguru would probably give them a stern scolding if he ever caught wind of the conversation.
The image of Suguru, standing with his arms crossed, delivering at least three hours detailing every reason invading his privacy was wrong flashed through Nanako’s mind, making her suppress a giggle.
But then, the urge to satisfy her curiosity was too strong to resist.
“What if we just...” Nanako’s voice trailed off as she leaned in closer to Mimiko, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.
“Sneak into his room?” 
Mimiko’s expression was a mix of disbelief and trepidation as she stared at her sister.
“Nanako, shut up.” she finally said, her tone firm and resolute.
“We are not going to sneak into master geto’s room.” Mimiko knew the consequences of such a risky move, and she wasn’t about to entertain the idea.
Nanako raised an eyebrow, a stubborn pout forming on her face.
“Come on, Mimiko, I know you’re curious too," she insisted, reaching out to grasp Mimiko's wrist and gently tugging her.
“Quit it. Invading master Geto’s private space is crossing a line.”
“Nuh-uh. You’re just as curious as I am and you know it. We’ll be really careful — he’ll never find out. Please, Mimiko!”
Mimiko frowned, hesitating as her sister's contagious excitement took hold. Part of her did yearned to satisfy their curiosities, even if it was risky. But she knew Suguru’s strict rules were for good reason.
But then...
Surely, they won’t be in trouble if they did sneaked in his room, right?
As long as suguru won’t find out.
Mimiko sighed loudly, her narrow shoulders drooping with the weight of exhaustion as she eyed Nanako.
She wanted to refuse, but nanako’s puppy dog eyes and pleading smile were hard to resist.
Mimiko bit her bottom lip as she considered giving in, wondering if exploring was really worth the risk of getting in trouble if they were caught. She let out an annoyed groan, dragging out the sound to further express her reluctance. 
“Fine, whatever. We’ll go,” Mimiko said with another sigh. Nanako squealed delightedly and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.
“But how are we even supposed to get in? You know that master geto padlocks his door everytime.”
“Ah don’t worry about that,” Nanako replied with a mischievous grin, waving her hand dismissively. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bobby pin, holding it up between two slender fingers.
“I’ve gotten pretty good at using these bad boys to jimmy open locked doors. We’ll be inside that room in no time, just wait and see!”
Mimiko looked at nanako with a deadpan. 
“Nanako, you’re a menace.”
━━━━𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇��� 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒
Nanako’s fingers fumbled clumsily with the bobby pin, a tumult of trepidation, enthusiasm, and anticipation, swirled chaotically within her, sending flutters of anxiety coursing through her veins.
Fuck, why is she suddenly nervous about this?
Taking a deep, steadying breath to quell the queasiness in her stomach, she pressed on, jimmying the pin with shaking hands until she heard a soft click as the lock gave way.
Beside her,  Mimiko clutched her doll tightly, as her brown eyes peered nervously in Suguru’s bedroom. 
Suguru’s room was tidy and sparse, as was his way — books neatly lined the shelves, papers stacked in orderly piles upon his desk. Her gaze drifted to the photographs taped to the far wall, snapshots of them.
All seemed normal here.... Nothing out of ordinary.
“i think... i’ll be staying here outside.. as look out.” mimiko said.
“you sure?” 
“mhm.”
“okay then...” nanako mumbled as she took a deep breath.
Stepping further within, Nanako’s eyes suddenly widened as they locked at the floor-to-ceiling collage affixed to the wall above Suguru’s work table.
It was strange.
Among the framed pictures hung neatly on Suguru’s wall, one photograph caught Nanako’s eye. She stepped closer for a better look. 
Within the frame was a girl with [H/c] hair and [E/c] eyes. However, her face is scarred. Like really scarred.
Who is that girl?
Intrigued, Nanako’s gaze flitted hither and thither, assimilating further details.
Nanako gawked, for there were numerous photos of the same maiden were strategically arranged. 
Her gaze drifted at another photograph, the same girl again, wrapped in a laugh as Suguru hoisted her onto his back.
A third snapshot looked like a stolen shot though . It showed in suguru feeding the [H/c] haired girl a puff of blue cotton candy, unaware her moment with Suguru had been seized by his camera lens without her knowing. 
There was a polaroid showed the girl clad in Suguru’s oversized clothes, appearing snug and at ease, while Suguru gazed at her with an unmistakable adoration in his eyes, a love so evident it seemed to leap off the photo.
And as Nanako continued to peruse the photos, a sense of unease began to settle within her.
One snapshot depicted the girl peacefully asleep in her bed, another showed her lathering under the shower’s cascading water, and yet another captured her nonchalantly eating a meal.
In one particularly unsettling image, the girl was giggling alongside another man, his face blurred out with a bold red ‘x’ mark, his blonde hair contrasting sharply with Suguru’s dark locks.
Counting now, there must have been nearly a dozen photographs featuring this one girl prominently. And yet Suguru had never breathed a word of her existence.
Who the hell is this girl?
Whenever Mimiko and herself pried for juicy dating deets — or literally anything about suguru’s love life, he would wave them off, insisting his love life was dull as a doornail
So what gives?
Who was occupying so much valued wall space in Suguru’s private quarters?
And why the secrecy?
Nanako’s body suddenly jolted as Mimiko’s voice cut through her reverie.
“Nanako,” her sister called out again, an undercurrent of alarm rippling beneath the surface of her normally calm tones.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Nanako dragged her eyes away from the unsettling Polaroid on the wall.
Her gaze trailed across the floorboards until coming to rest upon Mimiko’s petite form, hunched defensively over a large  drawer.
“What?” Nanako began, the single syllable emerging as little more than a hollow rasp.
“Look at this.”
“Look at what—” Yet before she could continue, words failed her entirely. For as Mimiko wrenched open the drawer with a force that belied her slight frame, a ghastly sight was revealed that turned Nanako’s blood to ice water in her veins.
Clasped loosely in Mimiko’s grip was a life-sized doll—its lifeless porcelain features contorted into a rictus of torment, wisps of tangled [h/c] locks spilling over slender shoulders.
...
Fuck, it was the same girl in the picture.
...
The unblinking stare of those glassy eyes unsettled Nanako far more than any picture ever could.
What the hell possessed suguru to recreate another in such a voyeuristic manner? Nanako’s thoughts whirled with confusion as Mimiko wrinkled her nose.
“Blegh.. this one smells so bad...” she remarked, hefting the doll away.
Nanako winced — for it was true, there was the cloying stench emanating from its sodden dress, the putrid scent of decay and something even darker she dared not name.
“I didn’t knew master geto liked dolls... but he had a shitty taste in them..” mimiko said bluntly.
Nanako crept forward, crouching low to examine the doll more closely. As she lifted it to inspect further, the unmistakable stench of decay assaulted her senses, and she has to breathe through her mouth to ignore the shitty smell. Cunning crimson stains marred the fabric, and it looked like it hasn’t been washed for ages.
“It looks so shitty... And smelly... It looks like it’s in need for some stitching...” Nanako turned towards mimiko. “don’t you think so?”
“I’m certain I could have repaired this for Master Geto, had he only asked,” Mimiko continued, though Nanako’s mind reeled with confusion.  
She was still feeling creeped out, because not only did Suguru keep countless images chronicling his obsession, but he also had a life sized doll of the girl...?
Her eyes traced the staining to a zipper hidden amongst the matted fabric. A dreadful premonition took hold as she grasped the zipper between her fingers. she pulled the zipper down slowly—and froze, petrified by what lay beneath the veil.
There, curled amidst the stuffing, was not cotton nor fluff, but viscera and gore of flesh once living.
human flesh.
━━━━𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
𝐀/𝐍: this story is gonna be much more darker than my other fics:333 and no, it’s not gonna focus on suguru being obsessed with the doll, it’s gonna be diff soon bcs the reader’s soul is inside the doll. aswell as her body.
𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: faster updates here.
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡
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656 notes · View notes
withleeknow · 6 months
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seasons of you.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster
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as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
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minho falls in love with you four times a year.
minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.
minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.
minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.
minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.
but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.
minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]
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waataah · 6 months
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Jealous/Possesive Sanji plagues my mind<3
✧ sanji vinsmoke x fem!reader ✧
。・゚゚・ (nsfw, fem!reader, 18+ only, mdni, 3rd pov) ・゚゚・。
content/cw: NSFW, heavy-petting, light-petting, kissing, praise, worship, jealousy, rough play, first-time and sexual themes.
summary: Sanji is quite the gentleman when he needs to be, especially around y/n. But once he sees you having a drink with Zoro can he contain the jealousy within him? Or will the gentleman's act come to an end?
word count: ~2041 words
・❥・Your body is all mine.
“So you and the chef have been dating for a while huh? Never thought that idiot would be able to maintain a relationship with anyone let alone a woman” the green-haired swordsman scoffed.
“Yeah I never thought I would date that perv either… but he grew on me what can I say?” she laughed in response to the other's words.
The two raised a toast and drank their problems away, because even in a perfectly healthy relationship, who doesn't have their own issues? The two gulp down their booze and laugh a bit over the pervy cook.
“You know Zoro I can tell he’s grown on you too y’know? You act like you hate him but everyone knows you're both friends” she laughs. 
“Shut up! Who would be friends with a loser like that idiot?” the green-haired man scoffed.
Y/n didn’t exactly enjoy her boyfriend being talked about like that by her friend but she usually overlooked it since she knew Zoro was typically like that.
While the two continued to chat and drink at the kitchen table, Sanji stood at the door that was slightly ajar. He lit his cigarette and listened to each word his girlfriend and the moss head would say. He felt a pang in his chest and knew he was jealous of the two of them laughing and having a drink with one another. He understood that y/n was his girlfriend but just the sight of his lover and the person he gets along with the least having a laugh still made his blood boil. 
After he heard y/n get up she said, “Well I have to get back for night watch, so same time tomorrow swordsman?”. Sanji quickly left upon hearing those words.
Zoro lifted his glass towards the girl and continued to drink the night away scoffing at the nickname you and the chef loved to call him. However, he did appreciate you occasionally taking over the night watch duty since he's the one who does it often. 
Y/n usually didn’t mind taking up night duty, the Thousand Sunny’s lookout tower was very secluded perfect for when she wanted alone time since she always shared a room with Robin and Nami. The look tower was a perfect place to have silence. But not tonight. 
Once in the tower, the hatch and ladder were closed and locked behind y/n with a cross-armed Sanji standing between her and the entrance.
“Hello, my dear~”.
“Sanji? What are you doing up weren't you asleep?” y/n was a bit shocked by the blonde waiting in the tower.
Sanji paced around the room and looked at all the workout equipment that Zoro had thrown about. He looked upset but y/n really didn’t understand why.
“Well I wanted to get a cup of tea and bring it over to my sweet y/n before heading to bed but it seemed the kitchen was occupied” he looked over with a strained smile. He took a drag from his cigarette and put it out, tossing it to the side not caring where it landed since it was “zoro’s space” after all.
It finally clicked with y/n, Sanji's tone of voice, and him seeing her with Zoro. He was jealous, though she doubted he would admit it. Y/n decided to stand still and wait for her lover to calm himself down. Eventually, he sighed and threw himself back onto the seats that lined the wall of the tower and gritted his teeth together.
“So… would you rather date that swordsman than a perv like me? You even take up guard duty for him every once in awhile…” he said with his head hanging low, he was pretty upset over the conversation he had heard. Sanji could feel his heart squish with pain, he hated being jealous. But he knew that just meant he did love y/n.
Y/n sighed and walked over to her lover, she tilted his chin up and gently placed a kiss on the blonde's lips. Sanji’s body shivered in response, his hand quickly making its way over to y/n’s waist and gripping onto it not wanting to ever let her go. 
“I think I like my pervy cook much more than anybody else” she giggled softly against his lips.
Sanji looked at her and pulled her by the waist to sit on his lap, y/n happily obliged. 
“Why do you take his guard duties?”.
“So I could have some alone time and let the poor guy rest”.
“Why do you drink with him every night?”.
“He’s the only other MAN who would give me slightly more serious life advice than any of the other guys here” y/n sighed. 
“Sure I could ask Robin and Nami but they tease me much more than Zoro, he usually only makes fun of you rather than my problems” y/n laughed.
Sanji let out a small sigh of relief and rubbed y/n’s hips gently with his thumb, it gently making it’s way into her shirt to touch her skin.
“And you swear you prefer me over that moss head?”.
“Whose lap am I sitting on right now?”.
Sanji felt a switch inside of him, the two of you were alone. Everyone was asleep, Zoro probably fell asleep the moment y/n walked out of the kitchen. The two of them hardly ever got alone time, the ship was always busy. Whenever the two of them were alone to share an intimate moment it would always be ruined by Luffy, Franky, and Ussop. But this time it was different, the lights were off and everything was quiet. Just y/n and Sanji’s breath silently echoing throughout the small room.
More of Sanji’s fingers slid up y/n’s shirt earning a small gasp from the woman, Sanji’s eyes never leaving hers. “May I my dear?”.
His words were slightly desperate but calmer, this would be the first time the two could share this type of moment so y/n quickly nodded a ‘yes’ in response. Sanji swiftly pulled his hands up to remove her bra only to find she was not wearing one. 
He halted in his tracks and looked up at y/n, “You were with Zoro… braless…?”.
Y/n laughed nervously and looked anywhere but at the chef, “H-he wasn’t looking… if a-anything he's not interested in-”.
Her little excuse was quickly halted by the blonde as he swiftly took off her top and used his tie to wrap her hands together with no easy way to make them come undone. Sanji’s jealous pangs riled up inside him more causing him to lose all sense of treating their first time sweet and perfect. He had always had an image in his mind of his first time with y/n. Candles, flowers a nice comfy bed and take her sweetly, passionately, and gently. But right now he wasn’t thinking straight. He would take her here in Zoro's gross sweaty gym watch tower and he didn’t mind treating her a bit rough.
It’s not as though he had never seen y/n naked before, some times before breakfast there were times to have some quickies, so he had definitely memorized y/n’s perfect delectable body. Sanji took one of her soft breasts and cupped it in his palm, the other hand keeping a firm grip on the tie restraining her arms.
Sanji let out a small laugh and pulled her by the arms closer to his body, “I would love to praise and cherish your body princess…but knowing that another man could have easily done this to you makes me a bit…upset”.
“So I might just have to leave proof that your body is all mine”.
Y/n was a bit shocked at this new Sanji, she knew that he would get jealous from time to time and start yelling at any other man who laid eyes on her, but this was different.
It was actually kind of hot. 
Y/n blushed at his words but didn’t dare to retaliate, “Go ahead… I won’t stop you”.
This sent Sanji soaring, he let go of Y/n’s tied arms and left gentle kisses against her exposed chest and left his mark all over, easily visible marks that wouldn’t leave much room to wonder. His hands explored her body and gently grasped onto her breast. His head leaned forward and he swirled his tongue around her hard nipples, taking in her sweet flavor. Causing her to moan sweet melodies to his ears.
“Fuck… y/n you are intoxicating my love” he mumbled against her breast.
Her face turned a light shade of red before muttering some words that he wouldn’t even hear. Sanji just made muffled sounds before setting her down on the seat and quickly tugging off her shorts and panties to the side, tossing them somewhere in the room. He left trails of kisses down her thighs and left more marks scattered towards her heat. Once he reached the top he eagerly started to eat at her wetness as she held back her moans of pleasure. He let his free hand wander back up to her breasts and fondled them while pinching her nipples. The muffled screams and moans held back by her lips were only making his cock twitch with anticipation.
“I need you, my love…” it sounded like a statement but he looked up at y/n as if he was asking for permission. She giggled and nodded to him.
After licking up all the juices he could, savoring every last drop he began to tug at his belt and pant button as he finished up his tongue's work. He let a few moments pass before finally setting his pants off to the side and stroking himself while prying away from y/n’s slick wetness. He pumped himself a few times before looking at her once again, but the thoughts of jealousy once again plagued his mind. He without warning thrust into her entrance causing her to gasp out from his length.
She always knew that Sanji was rather large, though it didn’t hit her till he filled up her insides entirely. 
“S-Shit S-Sanji” she muttered out between her moans which she couldn't keep back anymore. Each thrust was harder than the last, Sanji had previously teased her with his long slender fingers telling her she would have to ease into his size one day, but he was relentless. Sanji let out low guttural groans, though he wanted to take his time and admire y/n’s beautiful body, he wanted to make sure no one else could even think of touching his woman. He had to make her his.
Sanji could feel his high ready to come, he gripped onto y/n’s hips with one hand and untied the tie from around her wrist. Y/n felt herself clench tightly around his length and once let free she wrapped her arms around Sanji’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. The two moaned into each other's mouths, making the kiss sloppy but passionate. Sanji came first, his release was hard and went deep inside y/n’s body, he then pressed his fingers against y/n’s clit rubbing it in circles while she screamed his name. 
“S-Sanji! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum”.
“Do it, my gorgeous girl… cum on my cock”.
His words tipped her over the edge, she squeezed around him once more and felt her body pulsate and shiver from the pleasures. Y/n panted hardly able to catch her own breath. Sanji sighed in contentment, looking down at the mess he made of y/n. He pulled out of her and watched as his cum dripped from her hole with a sly smile on his face. Hickeys and sweat littered her body, and Sanji admired his work. He gently pulled her back over to him and took off his suit jacket and placed it around her shoulders. The two of them cuddled up, y/n looked down at herself embarrassed, and covered her body with his jacket. 
"There's no way I can hide all of this with my clothes...".
“Now I can say you are officially mine~”.
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casualhedonists · 7 months
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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter six)
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, mild bondage, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)
chapter: 6/6
SERIES MASTERLIST
words: .......13.5k
a/n: WHEW what a wait. thank you, as always, for your patience this past month or so! as i’ve mentioned i’ve been busy as hell, but it is with many internal screams that i can say! welcome to the final chapter of this series!! what a ride we've all had these last few months! buckle up for like. essay length extensive smut and also plot. in varying order. as always, feedback makes my world spin round at rocket speed, and just. thank you guys for all the love ever since i posted chapter one last november (november me with a brand new sideblog had no clue this would become a Thing i finished let alone a Thing people liked!! that's all on you lovely humans. ily)
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
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Heaven was his head between your thighs.
His hands on you, everywhere. Hot mouth pressed to your skin, your neck, your thighs, your cunt. He was slow. Thorough. Pulling cries out of your mouth that got louder and louder until your back arched on the bed and you lay slumped and panting, twisted in his sheets. Taken apart and stitched right back together.
It hadn’t started like this. Not even close.
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You woke to a soft light on your face, the curtains parted slightly. Your throat felt sore, and you were tired. Body heavy, slumped across a bed. His. It came back to you in fragments. The party. The photograph. His hand in your hair. His eyes after, apologetic and pleading. Falling asleep right here, next to him, but there was nobody beside you anymore. Your eyes adjusted to the room; you’d never seen it at this time of day, with sunbeams lighting up the walls. You could hear a soft tapping sound, like rain on the windowsill, but it was a bright and sunny spring day out.
Typing. That’s what it was.
Steady, satisfying clicks as the typewriter punched ink onto paper. You turned your head towards the desk across the room.
Coriolanus was sat there, focused, a breakfast tray pushed to one side. He didn’t notice you for a while, and you rolled over to take him in, a slight squint in his eye as he concentrated. You pulled your tired body up and leaned against the pillows, and he turned.
“Morning.” He said in surprise.
“Hi.”
This was strange. Like a warped sense of a morning after.
“Coffee?” He offered. “It’s still hot, I think.”
“Please.”
As he stood to pour from the French press, you took a look around you, eyes landing on the nightstand. A glass of water stood tall next to the silver chain he’d given you last night.
So innocent. If someone took a peek through a crack in the wall, they’d think you were a perfectly normal couple. Domestic bliss.
Not so much, you thought, as he walked over and handed you a cup.
He didn’t linger, but sat down at the foot of the bed, and that only made things stranger. He’d never been one to shy away from physical proximity, but here you both were, sipping just-hot coffee as he eyed you carefully. Like you were an animal in an enclosure, and he hadn’t quite figured out which approach to take with you yet.
“Are you working on something?” You nodded toward the cluttered desk.
“Just the usual. Work.”
“Oh? Didn’t know you worked in here.”
“I don’t, usually. Never have, in fact.” He sounded sheepish. This was entirely new. “But I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
Oh.
You said just that.
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
“I can go if you’d like. Leave you to rest.”
“No, that’s okay. Stay.”
His eyes softened a little, shoulders sinking down.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
You considered. You hadn’t really thought much about it.
“Tired, I think. This is helping. Thank you.” You sipped at the cup of coffee, careful not to spill it on his sheets. An oddly comfortable silence hung in the air.
“I called Cordelia. She’s coming over this afternoon, we can figure it all out. Print a story you’re happy with.”
“Wait, what? We don’t have an appointment for three more weeks.”
He glanced awkwardly at the floor, and cleared his throat.
“I thought you’d want to make it as quick as possible. It will be, and it won’t shine badly on you. I’ll get Lucille to pack your things, and if you don’t want to go back to your parents, I’d be happy to put you up somewhere in the city for as long as you’d like. It’s the least I could do after everything that I-”
“Coriolanus, stop.” You shook your head, bewildered.
“Can I ask you a serious question?”
He paused.
“Of course.”
“How the hell are you meant to know what I want if you’ve never asked me?”
He frowned, eyes darting from the floor, to you, to the floor again.
“I… Well, I assumed that-”
“Don’t assume.” You interrupted. “God, when will you stop assuming you know what’s best for me? It’d be nice to feel like I have a say in this. Don’t you see that if we do this, we’ll just end up right back where we started? I don’t want that, do you?”
“Doll, I think this would be for the best.”
“Why, am I getting too difficult for you now? You got someone new lined up ready to take my place? Someone less complicated? More complacent?” You snapped.
“Of course not, it’s not that.”
“Then why? Why do you want me gone? Because it’s pretty damn clear that you do from where I’m sat.”
He sighed, turning to face you, but looking at your lap. You gripped the cup with a vice, like you were trying to snap off the handle. You placed it on the nightstand.
“I’ve just been wondering if this has become about something… else, to you. and I wanted to say that if that’s the case, this can’t continue. Because… well, I’ve grown fond of you, and it isn’t fair to keep you hoping.”
Your confusion softened your sharp edges.
“Hoping for what?”
For whatever reason, he didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.
“Hoping that… I can give you something I don’t think I’m capable of. Or at least, not anymore. It’s not fair on you. I can’t give you what you need.”
“And what exactly is it that I need?”
He shifted, looking awkwardly to the floor. At first, your frown only deepened, then it hit you. A knowing smile crept onto your face.
“Oh my god… you think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
His frown only widened your grin. you were pretty sure you must’ve looked insane. Despite yourself, you let out a laugh, and his frown only deepened.
“When you… you’ve been upset lately. The other week at the luncheon, and then last night, I thought it was-”
“That I was, what, in love with you?”
A cocky, shit eating grin now took over your face.
He started a sentence, but stopped himself. You could see it on his face; he was completely thrown.
“So you’re not.” He checked.
“Oh, don’t look so disappointed, Snow. ‘Course not. That’s never what this was about, I mean, we have rules for a reason. Sure, we’ve been breaking them like it’s our day job, but not the golden one. Never the most important.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked a little sheepish.
“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” you repeated, “I’m not in love with you.”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. His shoulders sank down, like he was relieved.
“I see. That’s good, that’s… for the best.”
“So will you cancel Cordelia?”
“Okay. If that’s what you want., it’s done.”
You nodded.
“See, this is better. It’s a lot easier when you ask me things. And I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t exactly been the most talkative either.”
“It’s not exactly our strong suit.” He agreed.
“Yeah. You know, while we’re on the topic, there’s something else you can do for me.”
“Anything.”
“You can run me a bath. A hot one. With bubbles.” You added.
It was slight, but you saw it. He perked up.
“Okay, doll.”
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The bath was hot, and it smelt like the softer parts of him, like fresh linen and the spice of his cologne. Again, he didn’t linger, just ran the bath, saw you into the room and let you be. It was frustrating – while it was nice to soak in the hot water and feel your muscles relax, you wished he would just talk to you, instead of acting like you were something to avoid, something to walk on eggshells around. This change in his demeanour wasn’t a completely unwelcome one – you didn’t mind feeling as though you had the upper hand, and held all the cards for once – but you didn’t like being treated like you were broken, either.
You sank your head underneath the bubbles and stayed down there for a few seconds, the rush of water clouding your eardrums. It was a peaceful kind of noise, and when you came back up for air, you found yourself breathing a little easier.
You pondered. Processed, considering the steps to take next, rolling your neck out and stretching your feet to the edge of the tub. Anytime you thought you’d reached any sort of plateau with Coriolanus, something new would pop up out of seemingly nowhere. You hadn’t minded the danger at first, it drew you in and kept you hungry for more, but you’d grown tired, weary from the whiplash knotting your neck.
When the water cooled, you looked around, but couldn’t see a towel. You cleared your throat.
“Snow?” You called out.
Soft footsteps. Then, his voice from behind the door.
“Everything okay?”
“I just need a towel. I can’t see one near me.”
“They’re in the linen closet in the corner.”
You eyed the floor between the tub and the closet.
“I’d have to get out and drip bathwater all across the floor. Can you just come in here and hand me one?”
Silence.
“Please?” You added.
More silence. Then he quietly cleared his throat.
“Yeah. Okay, fine. I’m coming in, I won’t look.”
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
The door cracked open and he made a short beeline to the closet, unfolding a towel and holding it out. When he walked to the side of the tub, he looked off to the side like the colour of the walls was suddenly the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
You pulled yourself out of the water, shivering as the cold air hit you. Then you backed into the towel and took it from him, wrapping it around yourself, sinking into the soft cotton. He stood behind you, paused, seemingly suspended in place and unable to move. You heard him draw in a breath, inches from the back of your neck.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered. His breath caught on the droplets of water gathered on your skin, and it warmed you and gave you a chill at the same time.
“I know you are.”
Then in a flash, you spun around, lips on his, hungry. He kissed you back like he had something to prove, and hell, maybe he did. His hands tangled in your wet hair and yours made for his shirt. The towel slipped to the floor and fell in a pile at your feet. One button came open, you broke the second, which flew into the air and landed on the floor with a tap. He pulled you in closer, hands all over you, and you worked frantically at the third, not caring if it broke, not caring about anything.
“Doll.”
You looked up at him, at his blown-out eyes.
“Want you to fuck me.” You breathed.
“I can’t.”
You jolted to a stop, catching your breath. He took a step back.
“What?”
He pulled in slow breaths, like he was trying to cool himself off. His eyes pressed shut.
“Not like this. Not until I know you trust me again. I don’t… I can’t hurt you again. I won’t do that. I need you to forgive me first. Completely.”
You exhaled slowly, then cleared your throat, lowering to the ground to pick the damp towel off the tiles. When you came back up, half-covered, he was staring at a spot on the wall again, breath laboured.
You tied the towel around you, and looked right at him as he looked away, eyes averted.
“You sure about that, Snow?” you drawled. “You sure as hell don’t look it.”
He swallowed thickly.
“I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll just be in the bedroom.”
You brought your hand to your lips, brushing over where he’d just kissed them once he’d turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. You eyed your pile of clothes with disdain.
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He was back at his desk when you walked out, wrapped in a shirt he’d offered you, hair towel in hand. He didn’t look as focused on his work this time.
“I cancelled Cordelia. So don’t worry about that.”
“Thank you.” You made for the bed, and climbed back onto it. “Rather just talk to you anyway.”
His jaw tensed. It seemed he was still doing everything in his power not to look at you.
“You know, there’s this thing called eye contact. Remember that thing Cordelia waffles on about? It’s important when you’re having a conversation with somebody. I’m a big fan, myself.”
His eyes shot daggers at you. But at least he was looking.
“And what did you want to talk about, exactly?”
You shrugged, and he glanced back at the desk, and pretended to study one of the papers there.
“I don’t know. All of this, I guess.”
Much to your annoyance, he didn’t answer. Your eyes swept the room again, and you brought the towel to your hair. The sun was high enough now to light up the silver chain on the nightstand, and you took it in your palm, turning it over.
“Did you mean it when you said I could have this?” You wondered aloud.
He looked at you again.
“Wasn’t sure if you remembered that.”
“Well, I do.”
“Then I meant it.” His words shouldn’t have made you smile, but they did.
“Will you put this on me?” You asked.
“Uh. Sure.”
The chair creaked as he pushed it back from underneath him, and he walked over to you cautiously, perching on the bed, taking the dog tag, then ever so gently brushing your hair to one side.
“Can I just ask-”
“Anything.” He said quickly.
The cool metal slid onto your chest as he secured the chain, falling low.
“When you were out there, did you…” you swallowed.
Say it.
“…hurt people?” You praised your voice for not shaking. The silence in the room was deafening. But he finally answered.
“I did what was necessary.”
“It must’ve been awful.”
“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It was.”
“Do you think about it much?”
“More than I care to admit. But it was a long time ago.”
You turned to face him.
“Doesn’t make it less real. I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. What matters is that I’m here now.”
You smiled.
“You didn’t get too bad of a deal of it either, President Snow.”
He put your hair back into place, fingertips trailing your shoulder.
“I certainly didn’t.”
You thumbed the cold steel, an odd feeling of satisfaction washing over you.
“Was it worth it?” Your voice sounded quiet, even to you. You were fully aware of the weight of the question, heavier still from the complete understanding that you barely knew what you were asking.
“Yes.”
It should’ve scared you, the surety in his voice. But it didn’t.
Warm breath caressed your shoulder blade, and it really shouldn’t comfort you, but it did. You cleared your throat.
“Thank you. For putting it on. I always get these things tangled.”
“My pleasure. I meant what I said though, sweetheart. No wearing it where anyone’ll see, okay? I need you to promise me.”
You turned your head, shifted so you faced him. You suddenly realised just how close your faces were, and your voice dropped low.
“I promise. It’s nothing new. We’re no strangers to secrets, you and I.”
Your noses were almost touching, and he was looking down at your lips. You drew in a breath, and inched in impossibly closer. You felt his breath on your lips, hot and shallow. Your nose bumped his.
And then his lips were on yours again. But just as quickly, he pulled away.
“Don’t.” You pleaded.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t. Not until I’ve fixed this. Please, just… tell me what you need me to do. I’ll do whatever you want.”
You sighed, pulling away.
“This is what I want, Snow. But…”
“Yeah?”
“I just… never knew it would get so complicated. I think for now, maybe I need a little time.”
“Okay. We can do that.”
“I might go home over this weekend. Spend some time with my parents. No tricks, okay? No messengers, no word from you, the entire time. I’ll come back here on Monday morning, and I’ll tell you what I’ve decided then.”
He nodded.
“That’s fine.” He cleared his throat again. “So you’ll leave tomorrow morning?”
“If that’s okay.”
He seemed as satisfied as one would expect with that solution.
“Yes. Of course, anything you want.”
“Thank you, Coriolanus.”
If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked a little disappointed by the formality.
“And Snow?”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“Before I go, will you lie next to me for a little while?"
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It was oddly intimate, the way the day stretched on. He lay next to you for a while, and you sank into the sheets and eventually dozed off. When you woke, he was still there, quietly tapping at the typewriter and poring over paperwork. You spent the rest of the day in his room, in bed mostly, with food being brought up to you which you shared in mutual silence or casual conversation. Lucille packed your bags, and you spent the night in his bed, a little distance between you. But when you woke up, you had to slowly pull away your woven limbs.
Leaving was a quiet affair. Snow gave you a chaste kiss goodbye, and Henry snuck you and your bags through the back exit and kept to backroads, so nobody would know who you were or where you were going. Your parents didn’t know why you were visiting either; they didn’t need to. As far as anyone was concerned, you were taking a short weekend trip to check in with your family.
The two days passed quickly. You spent the time reflecting, debating what your next move would be, and listening to your parents argue. You found yourself glancing at the clock by Saturday afternoon, and by Sunday night you were practically crawling out your skin ready to leave. You considered what he’d offered you; an apartment on your own, somewhere in the city. But the thing is, you’d grown used to his moods, to just having him around, if only to dig your fingers into and pry open, searching for secrets. Life would feel awfully dull without it. You’d never met someone who was a match for you, who challenged you. You wondered if he felt the same.
Monday morning rolled around and you let out a heavy sigh of relief as you climbed into the car. Henry glanced back at you, but didn’t comment.
The second the manor came into sight, your head clouded with doubt. Would he want you to stick around? You’d spent the last couple of days toying with all outcomes like some omniscient god, but until now you hadn’t considered the fact that Snow might’ve done some thinking through of his own.
But as you pulled up at the side door, there he was. Standing perfectly poised, waiting for you, and all your worries washed away as he looked at you. Henry opened the door, and Coriolanus offered his hand as you stepped out the car. He looked at you with the same intensity as he had that very first night in his room, when you’d finally dropped the charade, and you returned the stare. Even just feeling his hand on yours set your skin on fire.
When you finally got inside and it was just the two of you, he stopped you.
He looked regal before, proud and superior. Now, you could tell it was a façade, laced with a nervous discomfort.
“Well?” He prompted.
You looked at him. Took in the way his eyes couldn’t stay in one place for too long, the tightness in his jaw that only appeared when he was under pressure, and the slight urgency seeping through his otherwise controlled question, and realised then that you hadn’t been the only one going a little insane these past few days.
And now, you had the upper hand again.
“Upstairs,” you answered. “Your room.”
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When the door closed behind you and he paced towards the desk, you almost smiled at the parallel. It felt like an age ago that you’d strutted in here, dressed in his suit jacket with something to prove. You knew the cards you were about to play now like you had then, but your thoughts still raced.
Snow cleared his throat.
“So? Have you made up your mind?”
You waited for him to turn and face you.
“I have.”
“And?” So quick to reply. You’d never heard him so on edge.
You wet your lips, taking a step towards him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying stretching this out a little, watching him squirm.
“I’ve decided that… I’m staying.” You said finally.
He let out an audible breath, almost like he didn’t care about you hearing his reaction anymore. Like he’d been strung out the entire weekend, just like you. Like he’d imagined this conversation in a million different ways. He stepped towards you. This was an old dance; one you knew well. You closed the gap between you, and his hand grazed your jaw.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He said. You held his gaze, he brushed your lip with the pad of his thumb.
“Can I…” His voice dropped.
“Not just yet.”
You relished the little frown that knitted his brows.
“I know you, Snow.” You continued. “You’re good at what you do. You’re better at this than anyone out there. You’re dedicated, and I think that… something tells me you’re going to be President for an awfully long time. I want to be by your side when that happens. I’m not going away when this arrangement suits me too. But I have terms.”
He watched you as if he was mesmerised, and you wondered if he even noticed the way you slowly walked him towards the bed. You hid your smile as the spell broke, and the back of his legs bumped the ottoman. He gazed down at your lips, just a little thrown off kilter.
“Tell me.”
You got closer, lifting your hands to the lapels of his shirt and giving them a tug, turning him so you were stood against the ottoman and he was facing you. He moved so easily, as if this was a dance, one you’d practiced a hundred times over.
“Let’s start with this. You said you’d do anything for my forgiveness, right?”
“I meant it.”
“Good.” You nodded, “Because there is something you can do for me.” Your hand traced his jaw, and he leaned into it.
“Name it.” He whispered, lips pressing against your palm. “It’s yours.”
You leaned towards him, faces close, noses touching, foreheads pressed together. You could feel the almost on your lips, could feel his breath. You relished in the feeling, that electric tension between the two of you. You held onto it, inhaled it like smoke, before cutting it loose.
“Kneel.” You breathed.
Feeling his brows twitch gave you a rush, and when you pulled back, he looked like art. You slowly moved down, sitting on the ottoman, holding his gaze. Then slowly, steadily, like he was walking a gossamer-thin tightrope, he shifted, nudging your legs open to stand between them, and lowered himself down to the floor, knees gently knocking against the hardwood one at a time. You give him a slow nod.
“Like that. Good. Stay there.”
Your legs parted a little further, and his eyes lined up with the way your dress lifted, bunching at your hips, exposing black lace with white trim, barely covering the space he seemed to lean towards.
He wet his lips, glancing up at you. Eyes bright but laden with want, so heavy he thought he might drown in it.
“Can I…” He whispered, and you felt it more than heard it, his hot breath tickling your thighs.
You smiled a little, and shook your head.
“Fuck. Please, doll.”
“Did I ask you to beg?”
“No. But… what can I do?”
You pulled your lip between your teeth as you considered.
“You can take these off. Slowly.”
You sighed when his palms brushed your hips, pushing your dress up then hooking soft fingers into the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them over your hips and down your thighs. He was gentle, pulling back but staying oh so close to you as he pulled the lace past your ankles, tossed it to the side, and moved in again expectantly.
“And now?”
You pushed your legs apart again, just enough. Drew in a breath.
“I want you to watch.”
A sound slipped from his mouth, and you weren’t sure if it was just a shaky breath or a quiet curse. His eyes darted between your face and the heat between your thighs. If you couldn’t already feel the mess you’d made, the way his lips parted and his eyes went heavy-lidded would give it away in an instant.
His gaze followed your hand, unwavering as you slowly brought it between your legs, and lazily trailed your fingers towards where you were aching to be touched. Then with a gasp, you brushed your finger against your clit and starting drawing slow circles, slipping further down to push against your opening, slipping through the mess you’d made just from seeing him knelt on the hardwood. 
You kept your head tilted back and your eyes closed, touching yourself with Snow knelt between your legs incredibly brazen, even for you. He was mere inches away, laboured breath dusting the skin of your inner thighs.
But as you melted into the feeling, sinking deeper than you could imagine in just a few short seconds, you opened them again. And there he was, darkened eyes fixed on where your fingers ran messy circles on your cunt, and you let out a soft whine. It was enough to make him redirect his stare to your face, and you couldn’t help but stare back, pressing harder against your clit with a broken sigh. You planted your feet on the floor as you shifted your hips a little, getting slightly closer, making it easier for you to carefully swirl a finger around your entrance, then gently push inside.
“Fuck.” He breathed, rocking forward slightly, to which you shook your head, knee pressing against his shoulder, pushing him back. His pleading eyes drove you on, pushed you to fuck yourself faster, obscene wet noises filling the quiet space.
He looked wrecked; lips parted, eyes begging, glancing up at you. And it only made you all the more shameless, bucking your hips and crying out, gasps slipping from your mouth that you couldn’t deny were getting played up a little for effect. He stared on, looking so fucking small between your legs, so hard you could only imagine it hurt.
You weren’t sure if he noticed he was breathing in tandem with you, but as your breaths picked up, got a little strained, so did his. His eyes slitted, heavy with lust as he stared on.
You got a little cocky; let it go to your head. Nothing would ever beat the rush of adrenaline you felt from seeing the most powerful man you’d ever known giving into you, letting you set the rules. It was intoxicating.
“You okay down there, sweetheart?”
He sighed, slow and heavy.
“I…” He trailed off, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Is there something you need?” Your voice was breathier than you would like, control slipping from your fingertips, but it was still there and the way he looked up at you. His mouth opened again, jaw agape, on his knees like it was a silent prayer. You fucked yourself faster, mean, dripping down your fingers. He finally spoke.
“Please.” He whispered.
“What did you say?”
“I said -” he swallowed “- I said please.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me touch you. Put my mouth on you, I won’t even use my hands. Just let me… baby. Come on.” His voice was raspy and ruined.
“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet? I’m not so sure.”
His breath was shallow, eyes wide and blown out.
“I’ll prove it to you. Just let me touch you, and I’ll do anything you want. Please, doll.”
You hummed, pretending to weigh it up in your head.
“Well, since you’re asking so nicely. Go ahead. But keep your hands to yourself.”
“Thank you. Fuck. Thank you, baby.”
He listened, inching in cautiously, like he was expecting you to change your mind, then he pressed his mouth to you and there it was.
Heaven.
“Oh fuck.” Your breath hitched in your throat.
You hummed as he dragged his tongue over your folds, setting your nerves alight, instinctively rocking into the pressure you’d been thinking about since you got him on the floor. His hands, you noted, sat dutifully on his thighs, gripping onto them like it took a physical reminder for him not to reach out and grab your hips, push his fingers into your soft skin and own you.
As welcome as that sounded to your foggy mind, this was about proving a point. You were the one calling the shots here. So you rocked gently against his face as he kissed your clit, lapping at the heat between your legs, only pulling away at intervals to catch his breath, the daylight making the mess on his chin glisten, only to dive back in again, movements slightly limited by the lack of his hands, which you could see was bothering him.
You couldn’t help but tease him a little between gasps.
“I have to say I missed this. Seeing you underneath me.”
He looked up at you. But there was little defiance in his eyes, just want. Want so depraved that it sent a flush through you, making you feel a little unmoored.
“If I didn’t know better, Coryo, I’d say you were enjoying this.”
Face buried between your thighs, a broken whine sent a little shock through your core. You moaned, getting a little strung-out, a little breathy.
“Is that a yes?”
You felt him nod.
“Good. Glad to see you’re putting up less of a fight this time. It wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Giving in?”
This time, his eyes contained a little more fire. He pushed his tongue firmer against your clit, cutting off your question with a gasp. A few moments passed, and you heard him hum.
“Is there something you want to say, baby? Go ahead.”
He pulled back, catching his breath again.
“Still don’t want me to use my hands?”
You shook your head.
“Then can you… if it’ll feel better.” He glanced at your hand, resting lazily on your thigh.
“What?” You knew what he was getting at, but he shot you back a look as if to say, don’t make me say it.
“Don’t be embarrassed.”
“I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Then say it.”
“Put your hand in my hair. You can… be rough, if you want to. I don’t mind.”
Your smile turned into a sly grin.
“You want me to pull your hair? You sure?”
“I’m sure. I don’t… I liked it, last time.” He confessed quietly.
“Liked what?” You pushed.
He took a steady breath, looking down at the velvet seat you were perched on. He gritted out the words steadily, pointedly.
“When you sat on my face. I liked it.”
You pressed your lips together to hide your smile.
“I know you did.”
He paused, looking down at the floor. Then he looked back up. You brought your hand to his hair, fingers running through the soft strands. He started peppering kisses along the insides of your thighs, something he’d been too desperate to consider when you’d first given him permission to taste you. Now, they sparked the fire even more, and as much as you liked the careful attention, you guided his head to where you needed it. Keeping his words in mind, you gave a slightly rough tug on his hair, and he responded with a pained hum that edged you closer.
At one point, you saw his hand shift to try towards his pants, but you yanked his hair in response.
“No touching yourself yet. Or I’ll only let you watch, okay?”
You built up a rhythm, growing careless with the tugs on his hair so that you felt pressure in all the right places. Your fingers pulled harder as you got close, and you could hear his shallow breath as you took what you wanted from him.
“Fuck. Coryo, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. You wanna make me cum?”
He nodded as best as he could with your hand gripping tight in his hair, and the motion only brought you closer, legs growing weak and tired, hooking over his shoulders now that you’d let him closer. You felt the ache build, almost painful with how long it had been, and you felt yourself snap, spinning out of control as your hand tensed, then fell from his hair. Then his hands were on you, gently this time, smoothing over your bucking hips with a level of control that you melted into as the feeling washed over you. He didn’t stop, pressing his tongue against you harder as you fell apart, shaking like a leaf as he worked your cunt until your cries bordered on screams.
“Fuck. Oh my god, that’s it, I’m…” You broke off into a shout, something so outlandish it sounded foreign to your own ringing ears, but you were too far gone to care. You could vaguely feel yourself grabbing at him as he pulled away, at his hair, his hands, anything, as you slumped back onto the bed. Slowly, he propped himself up, placing a knee between your legs and leaning over you. And his eyes, heavy and wanting, had you aching all over again.
He held back a little, clearly still in the space you’d pushed him into.
“Can I…” He whispered, those desperate eyes fixed on your parted lips as you caught your breath.
“Yeah.” You gasped, and he lowered his head towards you.
This time, he kissed you softer. Still hungry, still wanting, but slow, methodical, like he wanted to relish it. Almost like he wasn’t trying to own you, but in that moment, you could almost go so far as to believe the contrary. And your head swam with pride, feeling his lips on yours as he gently pressed you into the soft mattress.
But you didn’t sit in the feeling for too long.
“Was that okay?” He gasped.
“Yeah. More than okay. But you used your hands at the end there, baby. You know what that means?”
His eyes narrowed as his head cleared a little.
“Lie on your back for me.”
He obliged, dropping onto the mattress and shuffling up to lean against the pillows.
“I missed you, you know.” You murmured as you followed suit, hovering over him to get another kiss.
“I missed you too, sweetheart. Thought I was gonna go out of my fucking mind with how much.”
“Yeah?” You smiled.
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”
“I hoped not. Glad I was right.”
You smiled again, and shifted closer towards him.
“I could always show you how much I missed you, if you wanted.” Your eyes darted down to the front of his pants, the outline of his hard cock pressing against the material. He went a little quiet again, nodding a little, and you grinned. Climbed onto your knees so you were just a little above him, then swung a leg over one of his to sit carefully on his thigh. You paused for a beat.
“I won’t touch you until you tell me to, baby.”
He sucked in a breath.
“You can touch me.”
You tutted.
“What do we say?”
“Please.” He added quickly.
Without a word, you leaned in, brushing a hand over his cock, starting gentle, but quickly adding pressure. You could tell he was holding back, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering as he tried to control his breath.
“Not getting shy on me again, are you?”
He didn’t answer, just met your eye and you took it as a challenge. Unbuttoned his slacks and with a glance and a nod, slid them down his legs. You licked your palm slow, making sure he was watching closely.
“Fuck.” He breathed.
“Well, if you’re not gonna talk to me properly, I’m just gonna have to work harder then, aren’t I?” You drawled as you slipped your hand underneath his boxers. There was a soft thump as his head dropped back onto the headboard and he cursed as your fingers grabbed the base of his cock.
“Like that?” Your mouth pulled into a sly smile.
He hummed, breaking off into a sigh, lips parted and eyes towards the ceiling as you fisted his cock. I’ll take that as a yes.
You swirled your thumb around the head of his cock, gathering messy precum that had gathered at the tip from your teasing, and it hit you then that most of your interactions until now had been psychological, toying with words, with ideas and almosts. You knew by now what made him tick, which words you could use to push him to the edge, but you’d barely had the chance to touch each other. But you were a fast learner, and you knew what you wanted from this.
You wanted to make him fall apart.
So you picked up the pace, and it must’ve ached with how fast you were fucking his cock with your fist, but his determination not to lose his cool made it all the more exciting. It got wet, and that was one thing his composure couldn’t hide. It egged you on, shifting your own hips on his tensing thigh as your sore cunt pressed against the muscle.
“You can hold back all you like, but I can tell you’re fucking close.”
His eyes fell shut in a lust-clouded haze, breath picking up. His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned. You were tempted to take it down your throat, really see how he held up then, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet, and you were on a high learning just how to make his body respond to your touch, how to make him weak. So you worked your wrist and felt his legs jolt a little, and you knew it was a matter of seconds.
“If you want to cum, you’ll have to ask nicely. I don’t know how generous I’m feeling just yet. Convince me.”
“Jesus.” He gasped.
“No, just me. Go on, baby. Beg me. You wanted to earlier, right? Now’s your chance.”
An honest-to-god whine left his mouth, voice cracked and completely fucking ruined. You slowed your motions.
“No, baby, don’t stop. I’m so fucking close, please.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me cum. I fucking need it, I did everything you said, I got on my knees, I fucking… fuck, I did what you told me, didn’t I? Everything you asked? And I didn’t touch myself, I haven’t… fuck. All weekend, I haven’t-”
You pressed your lips together.
“Poor thing. You’ve gone this whole weekend without cumming?”
“I was a little fucking preoccupied.” He gritted out.
“Over little old me? You shouldn’t have.”
“Please,” he repeated, “I need to cum. I did what you wanted, doll, I- shit-”
Satisfied, you picked the pace up again, obscene wet sounds filling the room as his hips rocked a little into your hand as he got close again. Too far gone now to hold back, his face contorted in pleasure, eyes fixed on you. Then, in a seemingly small motion as you leaned into him a little, the dog tag that had been sitting tucked under your dress - and had stayed hidden against your skin all weekend - slipped out, the pendant swinging into the air beneath you, and as Coriolanus caught sight of it, you felt his hips tense, then his cock was twitching and spilling into your hand.
“Shit, that’s so… oh my fucking god, doll.”
You pulled your hand from his boxers and brought it to your mouth, cleaning it off a little.
“You really did need that, huh?” You smirked, and he sighed.
“Yeah. I really fucking did.”
You nodded at his boxers.
“Can I take these off now?”
He pressed his head into the headboard again and nodded, so you carefully pulled them down his legs. Panting and overheated, he unbuttoned his shirt as you threw the fabric to the floor.  What he didn’t expect you to do, though, was put your hand back on his still-twitching cock that sat tired and used against his stomach. He flinched a little as you palmed it, and you looked at him mischievously. Started to move your hand again, slow and steady, but firm.
“That’s… baby. Stop, I already came, I… fuck.” He winced, sucking in a sharp breath. “What the fuck are you doing?”
You chuckled, voice turning a little dangerous.
“Oh, you thought we were done?”
“Doll, that’s not – shit – that’s not fucking funny. It’s sensitive, I…” It turned into an uncomfortable hum, but you felt him twitch under your palm, slowly getting hard again. His leg gave a little involuntary kick, much to your satisfaction.
“I… what the fuck.” His voice went quiet and strained, and yours got menacing.
“Oh, you can take it, can’t you? Thought you said you liked me taking the lead a little. You can handle it, can’t you, Snow? Or do you want me to stop?”
“Mm. That’s… was different. Please.” You kept going, a rush washing over you as you wondered if he even knew what he was begging for. You got more daring, rubbing your palm over the tip, and grinned when he cried out.
“You want me to stop? Just say the word. I will.”
He was half-hard again, more cum leaking from his tip as you sped up just a little.
Eyes squeezed shut, he shook his head frantically as the rest of him trembled.
“Didn’t think so.”
His face was twisted like he was holding on desperately, trying to maintain control as you relished in his permission, and palmed him harder.
“Jesus fuck.” He said, voice getting louder now, legs twitching and hips bucking up in little jolts you were certain he couldn’t stop if he tried. You had him now, pliable like clay between your fingertips, shaking apart.
“Is that too much for you?” You taunted, getting cocky now.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snapped, but it fell flat when his voice broke halfway through the question. You laughed.
“I know exactly who I am, Snow. I’m the girl you’re gonna be stuck with for a long time, and I’ve got some demands to make. So listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once. You know what happened last week?” You were aware you were starting to sound almost as insane as him, but you didn’t care.
“You don’t ever,” you spat, “do that to me again. If you do, I swear on all of Panem, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”
He whined, desperate, so far gone you weren’t sure he was fully listening.
“Say you fucking understand.”
“I… I understand. Fuck. Please. I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so fucking sorry-”
“You’re lucky I’m giving you another chance. From here on out, you only get to treat me like a whore when I tell you to. Okay?”
“Yes. Yes, okay. I understand. I’m… shit.”
“This is a partnership, starting now. We help each other. We trust each other. We talk to each other. We don’t go behind each other’s backs, or fuck around with other people. Okay?”
“Okay. That’s… doll, can you slow down just a little? You’re… I’m…”
“You’re gonna cum again?”
He nodded, chasing his breath. You leaned towards him, lowering your head to his chest and dragging your tongue against his collarbone.
“Good. You can cum again, Coryo.”
“Thank you. Thank you - fuck. That feels… I’m-”
“You gonna cum all over my hand again, baby? Do it, I’ve got you. You can cum now.”
The second time he came was with a pained cry, painting your hand until it dripped down your wrist and onto his stomach. When you finally released your grip, he slumped down and sighed, aftershocks still jolting through him.
“You heard what I said, didn’t you?”
“I did. And I understand.”
“Good.” You murmured into his ear, and you felt goosebumps rise on his torso, “Then I think we can come to an agreement.”
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The week went by in a blur of whispered words and tangled limbs. He rarely left you alone, and you barely felt the time pass, every waking moment spent together, flesh on flesh. When he worked, it was at the small desk in his room, and he took plenty of breaks to lounge in bed with you or run you baths.
You learned each other’s tells, growing comfortable touching each other, but Snow stuck to his word, much to your annoyance.
Not until you trust me again, he’d said. Wasn’t it clear enough by you staying?
You’d all but moved into his room, sending Lucille back and forth with hampers for your clothes, which now hang in one side of his closet, or sat folded in his previously empty drawers. You felt closer to him than you ever had before, and the two of you had skin littered with bruises which made you grateful you didn’t have any public functions to attend for quite a while. He’d stopped leaving you to go into the city and work, instead managing people from afar, and letting them get on with their jobs so he could weed out the weakest links.
For the first time, it felt a little like he was yours. Or as much yours as he possibly could be. And as you spent more time together, not just half-dressed and desperate, but talking, really talking, you slowly started to feel like you could be his, too.
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“Tell me it feels better than he did. When you were together.” He whispered one morning, when you’d not long woken up and he’d immediately ducked under the covers to get between your thighs. He paused, fingers inside you, looking at you intently, and at first you were confused as to what he meant. You heard the tinge of vulnerability in his voice, and took the cue.
“You really think you deserve that? After everything?”
“No.” He whispered, eyes dropping down again.
“So what do we say?”
“Please.”
“One more time for me.”
He spoke up, voice gorgeously wrecked.
“Please. Tell me it’s better.”
“That’s good. And since you’re being good, I’ll tell you. He didn’t…” you swallowed, catching yourself, “He didn’t really like doing that. what you’re doing.” Your facade cracked a little and you glanced off to the side, not sure what reaction you were expecting.
“Really?” His voice was dumbfounded. It made you laugh.
“You know, Snow, a lot of guys don’t. They’re lazy about it. Want to get it over with, get to the real thing.”
A wide smile pulled at his lips, wolfish.
“Who wouldn’t want to do this?”
“Easy for you to say, handsome.”
He grinned wider.
“Can I try something?”
“I don’t know. will I like it?”
“I think we both will.”
Your voice dropped to a whisper.
“Okay, Coryo.”
His smile only deepened, pulling into an excited smirk as he gripped your hips once more, lightly kissing your thighs as he got closer to where you wanted him.
You gasped as his tongue worked you, and when you came, he kept going, easing up only after you’d fallen apart more times than you could keep count.
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“Can’t believe you still won’t fuck me.” You pouted one day, as he sat at the desk with a pen in hand, scratching against paper.
He turned around to face you.
“I told you why. Not until-”
“I trust you again, I know. But how do you know that? I could trust you just fine and you wouldn’t even know it.”
“I’ll know.”
You hummed.
“Or,” you started, slipping off the bed and pacing towards him, “you could just fuck me now and call it square.”
He chuckled.
“Nice try, sweetheart.”
You pulled a lip between your teeth as you stood next to him, and he moved his chair out towards you. You smoothed a hand over his dress shirt, and grabbed a hold of his tie. Then you hooked a leg over both of his and lowered yourself onto his lap, face right next to his. You’d grown comfortable with being close to him, and while it still felt electric, you could handle it better. You rocked your hips on his as you got comfortable.
“Feel familiar?”
He hummed in response.
“I’m getting flashbacks.”
You smirked.
“Can I take this off?” You tugged at his shirt.
“Only if you play nice. No acting up, okay?”
“If you say so.” You shrugged, making quick work of the tie and buttons. Once the shirt was off, your lips were all over him, trailing over his chest and neck, tongue tracing lines across his collarbones.
“You don’t have to be anywhere for the next week, do you?” You murmured into his ear.
“No.” His breath hitched a little.
“Good.”
With that, you closed your lips around his pulse, and sucked.
While you littered his whole torso with bruises, and your neck was given a few of its own, you started rocking your hips lazily against him, playing coy like you didn’t know what you were doing, like you couldn’t feel him rock hard between your legs.
“Now this really is taking me back.” His voice strained when he spoke.
You only hummed in response, lace panties bunching in an all-too-familiar way. But you didn’t work your hips like you had something to prove this time, you went slower, taking your time, but staying deliberate in your movements. Your lips met his, breaking away only to breathe, then again when you felt his hips roll a little and his breath get laboured.
You rocked your hips harder, nice and firm. You could feel his cock twitch through his pants, right up against the wet spot forming on your panties. The friction had you shaking.
“Feel good?” You breathed.
“Yeah. Feels real fucking good, sweetheart.”
You smiled as your head lolled back, gasping loud to make sure he really heard it.
“You know what would feel even better, though?”
He mumbled something back but you didn’t catch it, lost in the haze.
“Think it’d feel better if you were fucking me for real right now.”
You didn’t expect the broken moan that escaped him, hands gripping your hips hard. Like the thought of it was enough to make him shatter.
“Baby,” he warned, “don’t.”
“But it would be so easy.” You pressed, “pushing my panties to the side and fucking into me right now.”
“Doll-”
“I know you want to.” you whispered against his ear.
“Do you now?” His strained voice told you everything you needed to know.
You nodded. “Mhm. I know you do. I also know that it’s driving you crazy, having me this close, but not able to take what you want. You must be going out of your mind, you know how I know?”
“How?”
“Because I am too. I’m tired of this rule, Snow. Let’s just forget about it, and fuck me already.”
“Get up.” He said firmly. You started.
“What?”
“You heard me. I said get up, sweetheart.”
You climbed off his lap and stood, cautiously, legs shaking from how close you’d gotten. He did the same, towering over you a little as you failed to hide the smile on your face.
“Get on the bed.”
You took in a breath, shaky with nerves.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
You sat back on the bed, peering over the mattress as he ducked down to pick up something from the floor.
“What are you-”
“Eyes closed.”
“Okay.” You shut your eyes, then felt him get close to you, his lips meeting yours as he knelt in front you, mattress dipping as he shifted. His hands brushed your arms, slowly pushing them behind your back as you melted into him, and before you could open your eyes, you felt the smooth silk of his tie wrap around your wrists and pull.
“What-”
“You want to act up, doll? Fine. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum all over my fingers before you’re begging me to stop.”
His hand slipped between your legs, pushing your lace panties to the side and pressing a finger into your wet cunt as you cried out. Your eyes pleaded at him, desperate.
“But why can’t you-”
“I said,” he repeated, pressing his finger into the spot that make you see stars, “not. Fucking. Yet.”
He spent hours fingering you open, making you cum until you cried. Then he cleaned up your tears and kissed like you were his whole world as you fell into an exhausted sleep, his words floating around in your head.
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The black box was tied with a crisp white ribbon, and sat waiting for you on your bed. You approached it with caution, thumbing the piece of card on top of it. It was a note written in ink.
Wear this tonight. Think you’ll suit it well.
-       C.S
You’d gone into your room to collect something of yours to take to Snow’s room. You rarely went into your room anymore, most of your things had found their place in his, much to your satisfaction.
It was the first day in about two weeks that Coriolanus had finally had to leave the house to go into the city, but he’d promised it would just be for the day. It was also the first gala you had to attend since you’d made your decision, which you were slightly nervous for, but mostly excited to get out of the house, because although the sacred oasis that his room had become, it would be nice to have a change of scenery.
And that brought you back to the beautifully wrapped box lay in front of you. You were buzzing. You turned the note over in your hands, pulling it to your face to breathe it in. It smelt like newly printed books, and something distinctly him.
You recognised the label on the box, it was one of your favorite designers. You pushed the lid away to reveal the most beautiful dress you’d ever laid your eyes on – and you’d seen some impressive pieces.
It was a dark crimson red with gold embroidery, soft as silk. You unfolded it gently, letting the fabric spill out towards the floor. It was a little more revealing than anything you currently owned, with a deep slit up the leg and a plunging neckline, waist cinched, but the rest of the dress was floor length. A smile crept onto your face.
After counting down the hours, it was finally time to make your way downstairs. Snow stood in a full suit, waiting at the bottom of the staircase.
“You look beautiful.” He remarked.
“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” You smiled in response.
You met at the foot of the stairs, and he took your hand in his.
“Thank you for the dress. It’s gorgeous.” You added, not sure why you were lowering your voice in your own lobby.
“I knew it would suit you. Now you’re almost ready to go.”
“Almost?” You frowned, not sure what you could possibly be missing.
Coriolanus lifted his hand to pull the white rose from his breast pocket. He examined it, then lifted it to your hair and tucked it gently behind your ear. Your lips parted in surprise, and your hand reached up to meet his.
“But it’s your signature. I couldn’t-”
“I know. But people won’t be looking at me tonight. They’ll be looking at you. And this way, when they do, each and every one of them will know that you’re mine.”
That knowing smile crept back onto your face, and you leaned in to press your lips to his.
When you pulled away, you thumbed his tie, realising the color matched your dress exactly.
“I’m sensing a similar theme here.”
“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve been seen out in public. It’ll be good to show up like this, show a strong front, not leave any doubters.”
You hummed.
“And when we get home?”
His stare drew you in; you could get lost in it and never find your way out.
“That depends.”
Your gaze lowered to his lips, then back up again.
“Missed you today.” You said.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“You promise?”
He smiled.
“I promise, sweetheart.”
“Snow?”
He hummed in response. Your hand felt like it could melt into his, thumb brushing your palm.
“What would you say if I told you that I trust you now?”
His hand stilled. His eyes bored into yours.
“I’d say… that I believe you.”
You held your breath in, letting the anticipation wash over you.
“Later?” You whispered, and he nodded.
“Later.”
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The ball was one of the most extravagant you’d seen, large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and fountains of champagne dotted around. The health minister had outdone himself, and when you said so to Snow, he muttered a comment about him spending more time planning parties than doing his real job. But he smiled to all the right people, and his hand in yours calmed your nerves as a large procession saw you into the ballroom.
You danced until your feet turned numb, spinning on the ballroom floor, every time Coriolanus put his hands on your waist or wrapped his hand around yours drawing you in further, bringing you closer to forgetting everyone was watching you when his eyes were on yours, each stare becoming some secret language you were now terribly well-versed in. He didn’t let himself get distracted this time, quickly gravitating back to you any time he got pulled away into a conversation, and you basked in the attention, the two of you flirting to high heaven. When you’d spun until you were dizzy, he went to get you a drink, and you stepped off the floor of twirling couples.
It was then that you saw your mother, standing anxiously to one side, the stem of a champagne glass pressed between her fingers. Your parents rarely made it to these functions, but apparently, they had made time for this one. Suddenly aware of your frown and not wanting to arise suspicion, you plastered on a false smile and swanned through the crowd in her direction.
“Oh, darling. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Of course I am, mother, I wouldn’t miss it. Is everything alright?”
She glanced around the two of you nervously, fiddling with her glass. You touched her shoulder and gently guided her further into the corner of the room. You rarely saw her this distressed, usually the picture of grace and poise.
“What’s wrong?” You pressed.
“Have you heard from Nathaniel?”
Your brows furrowed.
“Nathaniel Greene? Not in a long time.” You figured the little stunt of yours from the month before should go unmentioned.
“I heard from his parents the other day. They’re completely distraught.”
“Why? What on earth happened?”
For a second, echoes of threats that had long settled to the ground popped back into the forefront of your mind, and you swallowed thickly. You sat down in two small chairs at the side of the room.
“They can’t begin to understand why. Perhaps it was work, perhaps he was gambling, or in debt, but nothing could possibly explain such a cruel fate.”
“Mother, tell me what happened. Is he…”
Her hands shook, and you took the glass of champagne from her and placed it on a nearby tray.
“He’s not dead, my darling. It’s worse. A messenger came to his house late the other night. They asked him to pack a bag, and they took him away. To… I can barely say it.”
“Mother,” you gritted, “tell me.”
“A peacekeeper, of all things.” Horror filled her voice. “They sent him away to the districts, for the next twenty years. But what could he have done? I can barely understand it. Can you imagine? A young man of his standing, wasting away in that place? His family is ruined.”
Right then, the crowd around you parted in a way that could only announce the presence of one person.
“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”
You lifted your head to meet cool blue eyes and a slightly suspicious stare. From where you sat, Snow towered over you both, drink in hand.
“Everything’s fine.” You replied, “my mother isn’t feeling too well. Do you think we could find my father and have him take her home?”
He nodded at an Avox nearby who stepped dutifully away without missing a beat, and a server offered your mother a tray with a glass of water on it. You stood and faced Coriolanus, conscious of the now very interested crowd, and nodded to the large double doors that stood to your right.
“A word?”
He followed you in cautiously.
“I just heard something interesting.” You started.
He stood up straight, setting his jaw when you finally turned to face him. Even though you were barely alone, just a closed door between you and hundreds of people, it felt electric to be standing so close to him again with nobody watching you.
“What’s that?”
Playing it safe. An interesting move.
“Oh, just some rumor about an old friend of ours.”
“Who would that be?”
You smiled.
“I thought it was funny you asked about him the other day. Were you worried if I left you I’d go back to him?”
“Not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t play coy, Coriolanus.” You drawled. “You sent Nathaniel off to be a peacekeeper so I couldn’t go back to him.”
His stony façade fell through a little.
“And if I did?”
The deep frown you’d plastered onto your face for your mother’s benefit fell away, and your lips curved into a smirk.
“I’d say... well played.”
He blinked.
“You’re not upset?”
“Over him? Barely.”
“You’re - ” Snow paused, “so you’re not angry that I sent him away? The districts are hell, you know.”
“I’m sure. I don’t care, Snow. If anything, I’m impressed.”
“Why?”
You shrugged.
“He had it coming. He slept with my closest friend a week after we ended things. He never knew I found out. I’ve just been waiting, really, for him to get what he deserves. I doubted you’d let him off without a warning. There I was thinking you’d lost your touch for a while.”
You wanted to bottle the feeling you got from his eyes burning into you, with something that tasted like admiration.
“I nearly did let him off, for your sake.” He confessed. “But... if that's the case, I'm glad I changed my mind."
“So am I. It was that weekend I left, wasn’t it?”
“Damage control." He said tightly, "You can’t blame me.”
“Thought so. Good work, Snow.” You stepped towards him and revelled in the apprehension on his face with a smirk. “It’s a shame for his family, but they were never particularly nice. Collateral, I suppose.”
“You really don’t care at all?”
“Does it look like I care?”
“No.”
“I think you can read me as well as the next person. So I don’t care. Is that so tragic?”
He shook his head, bewildered. A strange smile appeared on his face.
“No, that’s… that’s good.”
You smirked as a thought popped into your head.
“How long do you think he’ll last out there?”
“Who knows? I hope you’re not banking on him ever coming back.”
You fiddled with his tie, smoothing it down.
“Never. We can’t all be Coriolanus Snow, can we?”
“Certainly not.”
You stepped even closer, and his back bumped softly against the wall. His gaze fell to your lips. You'd painted them a red so deep it was almost black, matching the dress.
"You like the color?" You asked.
"Yeah. Reminds me of when you kissed me in front of everyone and I couldn't get it off."
You laughed.
"Well, it was one way of getting your attention."
"It drove me fucking crazy, you know. It's all I thought about when I jerked off for weeks."
Fuck. Your eyes went a little heavy, laden with want.
“I hope this hasn’t changed our plans tonight.” You murmured.
“Has it changed them for you?”
You shook your head quickly.
“No. You?”
“Of course not.” He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.
“Good. Because now he’s out of our way, I’m tired of this party. I want to go home."
His eyes darkened a little and he drew in a breath.
“I’ll go say my goodbyes.”
With one of his hands on the doorknob, you stopped him.
“Snow?”
“Yes?”
“I don't want you to be nice. Later, I mean.”
If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was just a few squeezes shy of breaking off the doorknob.
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Your body slammed against his bedroom door with a force. His hands travelled under your clothes; wanting, needing to touch. You sighed and gasped at the feeling, his cold hands on your skin shooting chills through you, tugging off your clothes, kissing your neck, taking all that he wanted but still desperate for more. The rose had long fallen from your hair and lay, forgotten, on the hardwood. He kissed you with purpose, like he was once again trying to prove that he owned you, all the while understanding that he couldn’t. Maybe that’s what pushed him to touch you, to kiss you like it was the last time, like he was scared you’d float away somehow, even though you both know that wouldn’t really happen.
You understood it, because you felt the same way about him.  
You revelled in it, in the way his hands wrapped around your back, lowered to your legs, and lifted you up to push you harder against the door. His lips travelled across every square inch of bare skin he could find, your dress pushed down to your waist, lace bra exposed.
“Take it off.” He whispered, and you arched your back, reaching for the clasp and unhooking it with lightning speed. The lights were dim in his room, casting shadows that danced as the two of you moved together. Your head fell back against the solid wood as Coriolanus licked a trail up your neck. It was depraved, more passionate than anything you’d felt before. You could hardly think, blood pumping through your veins faster than you could stand. The only thing louder than the rush of blood in your ears was the sound of your breath mixing, hot and heavy as you took, impatient and without apology.
You cried out as his hips pressed harder into yours, and you could feel his length pressing up against you for the hundredth time. Except this time, you could finally let yourself imagine him inside you and trust that he wouldn’t turn this into another round of the game you’d thought endless. You squeezed your legs around his hips.
“Bed.” You gasped, and he grinned, wolfish and thrilled. You were the luckiest girl in Panem, to get to see him look at you that way.
“Been waiting to get this dress off you since I had it made.”
“Don’t tear it. Be gentle.”
“With you, or the dress?”
You narrowed your eyes as he carried you to the bed and placed you down on the mattress.
“Thought I told you that already.”
He was careful with the dress, slipping it over your hips and draping it over the back of the desk chair. When he came back, you were propped up on your elbows, legs bent at the knee, stare unwavering, panties the only thing left to take off. He was still wearing too much, shirt messily undone, pants still fastened but barely concealing the tent beneath them.
“You sure about this?” He checked.
“That a trick question?”
“Doll.”
You laughed. 
“Yes, I’m sure. Take off your shirt, handsome.”
He pulled off the white shirt methodically, and you shifted onto your knees to pull off his belt and toss it to the floor, eager to speed things along. You took in his toned chest and let your gaze sink down to his boxers, where his cock stood painfully hard beneath the material.
“Can I…” You prompted.
“Fuck. Yes. Please.” He sighed as your nails trailed up the bare skin of his thigh and brushed softly over his cock.
You smiled at the addition and took one last glance at his face, anticipation clear on his features that morphed a little in the near-darkness. Then, you pulled the material down his legs and his cock sprung free, and you forgot that you’d done this before, that you were used to this, to him, to being with him in almost every sense. It all slipped away, and as your hand reached to touch him with nothing between the two of you, it felt like the first time you’d ever done it. The breath he sucked in as you started to push the precum around his tip urged you on, making you brazen, and you readjusted your knees on the bed and got closer, then licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip.
“Oh my – fuck.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face, grateful for the darkness.
“That okay?”
He laughed, something dark and untethered.
“You fucking know it is. Such a fucking tease.”
“Wouldn’t be such a tease if we’d done this sooner.”
“Somehow I doubt that, sweetheart – ah.”
He was cut off by you taking the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucking hard as you gripped the base. You pumped your hand a few times and revelled in the sounds he made, choked out grunts and broken sighs, mixed with the occasional curse or a cry of your name.
You felt his hand gently brush against your hair, ever so cautious.
“Can I…”
“Mhm.” You hummed in the affirmative, and he sighed, all low and shaky as he pushed his fingers through your locks, not guiding, just careful pressure on your scalp as he let you take the lead.
“Baby,” he gritted out, “I don’t know how much longer I can… fuck, that’s-”
He sucked in a sharp breath as you stopped, pulling off, lips swollen. You looked up at him, stunned as he caught his breath.
“Coriolanus?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we turn a light on? I can’t… I want to see you.”
In the shadows, you could just make out the glint of his eyes and a dumbfounded smile.
“Of course.”
He stepped away, kicking off his boxers, and you watched him reach over the desk to switch on a small lamp. It lit up his face and you took him in, a thin cast of sweat shimmering across his face and chest. When he turned, you glanced away like you hadn’t been staring. He caught on with a grin.
“Like what you see?”
Such a dick.
“I’d like it better if you were over here.” You mumbled as he paced back towards you.
“You’re the one who wanted the light on, sweetheart. Now I know why.”
“Shut up and kiss me, Snow.”
“Coryo.” His breath danced against your lips as he closed in, lips sealing against yours as he pushed you back on the bed.
“Coryo.” You repeated with a smile when he pulled away kissing down your neck and chest, feeling the shape of the name in your mouth.
Then his hands were on you again as if they’d never left. More heat pooled between your legs as he trailed his hands down your thighs, and you let your head fall back as his fingers pressed through the seam of your panties.
His breath got shaky again as his fingers pushed the scrap of wet fabric to the side. You gasped as his thumb went straight to your clit, determined, rubbing tight circles against the hard nub.
“Oh my god, Coryo, I-”
“So fucking wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?”
It was too much all at once. You pressed your lips together tightly and nodded. Beside yourself, your left hand pressed against your mouth to muffle your moans.
Then he fucking stopped. Your hand fell from your mouth, and you felt the lace get pulled down your legs.
“What are you…” You trailed off. The dim light let you make out his face and you could see his expression now, wanting, but careful, methodical.
“Open your mouth.”
When your lips parted, a little in response, but moreso in surprise, the two fingers he’d been using on your clit slipped into your mouth, pulling your jaw open as his other hand propped him up. You could taste yourself, hot and heavy, spilling onto your tongue.
“I want to hear you, baby. You can’t cover your mouth like that if I’m gonna hear you.”
You nodded, brain a little dead.
“Good girl. Now I don’t have a free hand, know what that means?”
You cried out a little, tongue trapped beneath his fingers.
“Touch yourself, doll. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you nice and fucking close, okay?”
A little self-aware with him hovering right above you, you snaked a hand between your legs, but when you saw the look on his face you stopped wasting time, pushing two fingers inside yourself, heel of your hand bumping your clit as a whine slipped past your lips.
He kept talking, whispering hot and heavy into your ear, dragging his lips over your neck, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, every touch burning your skin like it was molten. When you’d lost yourself enough, mouth still parted; his fingers gentler now he’d made his point, he ducked his head lower, trailing his lips over your tits, placed his mouth over your nipple and sucked. Your moans got louder, feeling like every inch of skin he covered was hardwired to your cunt, your fingers getting tired and sloppy as you got yourself closer, dripping down your thighs.
You made a sound and he glanced up at you, pulling his fingers from your mouth.
“Just fuck me. Please, I can’t wait anymore, Coryo.” You whined, trying desperately to slow down your breathing.
“Poor baby. Couldn’t make yourself cum first?”
You shook your head, any more and you were sure your eyes would start to water.
“That’s okay, doll. I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.”
He lowered himself down towards you, arms either side of yours, crowding you in. Then his hands travelled down, lower, and your eyes rolled back, mouth agape as you felt his cock press against your entrance.
“Fuck.” You whispered, and he was strangely quiet. You blinked, and looked down at him, and you’d never seen such a pained look on his face. His lips parted, eyes heavy and slitted as he looked down at where his cock rubbed up and down like he was in a trance, slowly nudging your clit and getting himself wetter, tip glistening in the dim light.
Desperate for friction, you started rocking your hips, aching for him to push inside of you.
“Not just yet.” He breathed, voice strung-out and insane. “I won’t make you wait much longer, baby.”
“Please. I need you to fuck me. Don’t make me fucking beg.”
Usually, you’d see a sly smile appear on his face, but he just pressed his eyes closed as if the thought was going to send him over the edge. It was the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. Then, finally, you felt his cock catch at your entrance, and slowly press inside. You gasped at the pressure, at the size of him, and he was barely even moving.
“That’s it, baby.” He breathed. “I’m right here.”
He shifted his hips a little, and you clawed at his back, nails digging in until he hissed, rocking your hips to beg for more. You didn't want him holding back, not when you'd waited months for this. You strained your neck lifting it from the bed to whisper in his ear.
“I meant what I said, Coryo. Don’t be fucking nice.”
It was as if something in him snapped. Like he was holding on by a single thread, and you’d send him spiralling out of control. His hips jerked forward and you cried out as he filled you to the hilt, then rocked into you again, picking up a pace that was almost punishing. You tasted it, still wet on your lips, clung to your skin, and now, deep inside you.
Danger.
“So fucking pretty. Does my pretty girl need to get fucked, huh? Just like that?”
You could barely form words, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in further, feeling pinned open and beautifully used. Your cries melted together in your head until you could only understand bits and pieces, and as he fucked you, unrelenting, you felt your back slide up the mattress. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure they must’ve drawn blood. His forehead pressed against yours,
For a second, he slowed, looking down at you.
“That okay?” He muttered.
You nodded, frantic, barely there.
“Yeah.”
He sped up again and your legs grew weak. He reached his free hand down to grab hold of your thigh and push it higher, the new angle making you see stars, clenching around him impossibly tight.
“Good fucking girl.”
At some point, as you exchanged fewer words and more heated glances, you felt your hand slip from his back and come to rest against over his on your thigh, to hold it in place. He took it in stride, taking it in his, fingers interlacing as his thumb brushed yours.
You didn’t think much of it. How could you? Not when he was stretching the walls of your cunt as you gripped him like a vice. Not when you could barely hear the words coming from either of your mouths. But oddly, it was the gentle contrast that pushed you to the edge as he fucked into you just like you’d asked, hard and unrelenting, mean.
Despite it all, it was the thumb that brushed yours that had moans spilling from your mouth as you both took exactly what you wanted from each other. It sparked something in you, something that let you know you were safe here, that there weren’t any walls between you anymore, no twisted games that wouldn’t benefit you both equally.
“I’m close.” You gasped as his cool blue eyes spilled into yours, and you knew he was all yours.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? I can feel it.”
You nodded silently, muscles in our thighs tensing around his back, the hand that was twisted into yours now falling onto the bed beside you. He gripped it tighter, and fucked you harder, with a point to prove. When your eyes slid shut in ecstasy, right on the edge of falling apart, he squeezed your hand, palms hot and clammy against each other just like the rest of you.
“Look at me, baby.” He urged, fighting for breath. “You’re so fucking close, I need – shit – need to see you when you cum for me.”
It wasn’t hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them on him when he looked like that, like he was carved by the fucking gods, brow scrunched and shining with sweat, eyes bluer than ever, lips parted in an o shape. It was the prettiest sight you’d seen, and your hand tensed around his when you came, trembling like a leaf, mouth parting in a shout you barely heard, eyes focused on him, only him as he fucked you through it.
"Fuck, that's it, doll. Like that? Right fucking there?"
You cried out in response, and as you spilled apart, you heard your name slip past his lips through your ringing ears , followed by a string of curses, each one filthier than the next, not letting up once as he followed you over the edge, hips stuttering as you felt warmth fill your walls and his head fall down onto the pillow beside yours.
A few moments passed as you let the feeling wash over you, feeling the wonderfully sore, sticky mess between your thighs after he pulled out. You heard him catch his breath, then tumble onto his back by your side. You sighed as you stared at the ceiling, then at him, and with a smile realised he’d been looking at you.
“Like what you see?” You echoed. He smiled, coy.
“You know I do, beautiful.”
You sighed, satisifed.
“Keep calling me beautiful, Snow, and I might start thinking you want to fuck me.” You teased. “Wouldn’t want to give a girl the wrong idea.”
He laughed, bright and loud. A few more seconds passed, and you hummed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I’m just a little annoyed I didn’t get to ride you.”
He swallowed then smiled, almost awe-like, transfixed. It was a feeling that you’d gotten used to over the past few weeks, but it felt new this time. Different.
“You’re not done?”
“Are you?”
He glanced at your lips, then back up again, voice earnest.
“Not with you, sweetheart.”
Your voice dropped to a whisper.
“Good. Then lay back. Head on the pillow for me.”
He obliged, blonde curls spilling over the fabric. You liked it when he grew his hair out a little, you thought as you hooked a leg over his waist. His hands came up to touch you, but you pressed his wrists back into the mattress.
“No touching, Coryo. You hear me?”
He nodded, eyes darkening again, and you lowered your head to kiss him, deep and slow. Felt yourself meld into him with a smile as his cock hardened against your thigh.
From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the white rose he'd given you, discarded haphazardly on the wooden floor.
And something inside you just knew, you’d never get bored of this.
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a/n: hope you liked it. thank you again for the love and for screaming along with me this whole time <33
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