#blurb game

[jo-harrington]

For the AASB Blurb Game: Splinter cat 😌

Hehe oh I wanted someone to do something remotely cuddly. Although…splinter cat might not be…cuddly per se.

Oh well. ENJOY MY LOVE!

Find other Hymns of Heaven here.

And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

May 1984

"How much further?"

"Just a little ways ahead."

"Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Why? Don't you trust me sweetheart?" Eddie glanced over his shoulder at you and smirked as he saw you dramatically trudging along behind him.

"Yeah but a hike through the woods isn't exactly my idea of a pleasant afternoon," you explained.

To be fair, this wouldn't have been Eddie's first choice either. He could take you to a million and one places around Hawkins, take you on a drive everywhere and nowhere while listening to the mixtape he had yet to give you, bring you back to the trailer where the two of you could just...make out a little bit...

Or a lot.

...the possibilities were endless.

He paused for a second to let you fall in step with him and offered his hand to hold as you walked. You took it immediately and he beamed proudly.

"I know it isn't a barn burner of a date," he began. "But I really appreciate you going along with it."

This was just...something special that he wanted to share with you. He knew once you got there, you would understand.

"Oh, I mean...I..." You were suddenly bashful. "I wasn't really trying to be difficult. I really do like spending time with you."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh." You looked down at your joined hands and swung them a little. "I'm really glad I came to Hawkins and met you Eddie."

It was an instantaneous feeling. Everything was a little lighter, brighter. The perpetual weight on his shoulders lessened. It was like one of the candles that had been snuffed out inside of him had sparked back to life, just by a declaration as simple as that.

Eddie was the one to become bashful now, as he tucked his face into his shoulder the slightest bit and let the curtain of his hair hide him from your adoring gaze.

Before long the two of you reached the broken husk of a fallen tree and he smiled.

"Oh we're here!" Eddie let go of your hand and motioned for you to stay back for a second. He slipped his backpack off his shoulders as he cautiously approached the tree.

It was a little sanctuary in and of itself, the broken fragments of the trunk had created a shelter against the elements. Parts of it were covered in moss and wild mushrooms that looked enticing but were probably extremely poisonous.

Eddie finally called you over once he was sure it was safe, and as you approached and questioned what it was he found, he began taking treasures out of his pack: a little ball of yarn he grabbed from Mrs. Wilson's basket, a few cans of tuna, and an old moth-eaten sweater that was destined for rags if it didn't go to this noble cause.

A soft, grey mother cat lounging within the protective cradle of the fallen tree with her litter of precious kittens. Her vigilant eyes darted from Eddie to you as a soft coo exited from your lips and she flicked her tail judgmentally.

"She's one of the cats from the trailer park," Eddie explained as he presented his gifts to her majesty. "I, uh...I feed them sometimes. I don't know if they're feral...but I think Lucy used to have a family and they left her behind."

"Isn't that always the way," you muttered and slowly offered your hand for sniffs. After a few seconds, a head was immediately pushed into your palm, demanding pets, and your fingers sunk into her fuzzy, velvety hair. "Lucy?"

"I named her," he admitted, "after Lucy Pevensie. From The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. Because she was the Queen of all the cats, but still the most friendly, and gentle. Aren't you Lou?"

Eddie popped the tab on the tuna can and Lucy's head immediately retreated from your touch as she became aware of the promise of food.

"She disappeared one day," Eddie continued, and presented her with the feast. "And...you know the whole hierarchy was in disarray, but she always meows when I call her. So I just...started looking and found her out here. She's crazy smart too, to have found shelter so she could have her babies safely."

Your attention turned from Lucy to the tree itself. The dead bark was scored deeply, probably by a lightning strike or some great beast of the forest that overestimated how much weight the brittle wood could actually hold. You ran your finger along one of the shallower scratches and then hummed as you looked back at Eddie.

"How sure are you," you began. "That she didn't just knock the tree down herself?"

Eddie scoffed and looked at you as though you had grown a second head.

"A tiny little kitty like Lou?"

"How sure are you that she's just a cat?" you questioned. "She could be a shapeshifter. Maybe she's something bigger. Look at these scratches."

"She's just a cat," Eddie insisted.

"Have you ever heard of a Splintercat?" you asked, eyes narrowed. Eddie tilted his head in thought, and wondered if you were teasing him or...

But you wouldn't.

...or if you really knew something that he didn't.

When Eddie hesitated to answer, you continued.

"It's this...well it's this mythical Cat, I guess. Legendary, folklore, that kinda deal. And it has spines along its body and it's big and ferocious, but it attacks trees so that it can get...I don't know, little critters and honey and all sorts of things to eat. But it leaves the tree broken and covered in...scratches and grooves.

"They don't have very good temperament," you scrunched your nose and reached out again to scratch behind Lucy's ear as she munched on tuna happily. "But maybe Queen Lou here knew she was gonna have her kittens. So she changed her shape a little, and her attitude, to be a little friendlier, and then found a big old sap like you to feed her the good stuff.

"No need to knock any more trees down when big, scary metalhead Eddie Munson is fighting for your honor and bringing you Chicken of the Sea, huh?" you asked in a baby voice.

You looked up to find Eddie staring at you with the most dumbfound, lovesick expression on his face.

"What?"

"Do you wanna get married or something?" he asked. You let out a honk of laughter and Lucy bristled under your touch until you shushed her. "No I'm serious that was...the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Fuck you, Munson, it was not," you giggled.

"It was," he insisted.

"Proposal worthy?" Your eyebrows couldn't get any higher on your forehead.

"Well, if the Queen here gives it her blessing," Eddie got to his feet and bowed before you and Lucy. "It would be my honor to be yours until the end of eternity."

You laughed again and got to your feet to swat at his arms and legs. The two of you chased each other around the clearing until Lucy let out an annoyed meow and retreated into her little shelter to snooze.

The Queen grew tired of your antics, so Eddie bowed again and encouraged you to curtsey, then you took your leave.

For days, Eddie thought it was just another cute and silly thing that he was growing to love about you.

But it was funny...

Because the next time he went to the forest to find Lucy and her kittens, they were gone. And several more trees in the area had been knocked down, covered in deep scratches and splinters.

[prismatica-the-strange]

Since you asked for Bernard and Charity prompts…👀👀 how about a scenario where Bernard and Charity watch the aurora borealis (the northern lights) together?? 💜

"Bernard," Charity huffs as she trudges behind him in the snow, "Why are we out here? It's like negative eighty."

He slows down to wrap his arm around her shivering shoulders, "It'll be worth it, I promise."

They crest a small hill just as colors start to swirl and mix in the sky.

He smiles when he looks over to find her staring up at them in awe.

"I know it's been a long time since you've seen the Northern Lights," he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"I forgot how pretty they were."

[lollypopsx]

Dialogue Game Day!

I feel like I have neglected you all due to my heartbreak, so I’m thinking how about a bit of a blurb day? Send me some blurb prompt lines with a trope and I’ll do a few throughout the day while I procrastinate my work!

I also haven’t written anything in a very very long time!

Also...thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday yesterday! Forever grateful x

L x

[coryosbaby]

ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ !

♡ content warning . dubious consent, mentions of drugging, sex work, breeding kink, cum play, weird usage of condoms, dom! Coryo

You didn’t know how you ended up like this.

Being an escort wasn’t an easy job. There were times when you were completely disgusted at the men who approached you (if not all of them). Coriolanus was supposed to be a normal client— someone that would fuck and go. Even with his ranking, you never suspected that he would… keep you.

You had had a few weird clients— some asked for the most vulgar, filthy things. Some of them followed you around before your boss had told them off.

But none of them have ever took you home.

You usually weren’t this stupid, this hazy minded, but Coriolanus had scooped you up with his wit and his charm and a bottle of something you hadn’t had before the economy went downhill. You had heard of him— of course you had—- the powerful, handsome, and extremely intelligent, Coriolanus Snow. And before you knew it you were being tossed onto his king sized bed and his tongue was scraping against the roof of your open mouth. You didn’t even have time to gape in drunken wonder at his enormous bedroom— all you could think about was the cock gliding in between your legs, meaty and thick and wet. He had become completely bare to you, regardless of your opposing position. You were still clothed in your pink floral dress and your basic cotton panties.

Coriolanus’ lips grazed over your jugular, his tongue nipping at your skin. You had never been this hot for anyone, especially not a client. Your panties were soaking, your clit was throbbing and you needed to cum. What was happening to you?

“Cor…” you tried to slur out, as your eyelashes fluttered.

“I know.”

His voice was incredibly gentle, and his big hands groped your tits through your dress. He lifted up the hem, made sure to expose your panties to him, and groaned. You could feel his precum smear against your thigh as he ground his aching member against you.

“Can’t even say my name, can you?” Coriolanus continues. “I have an idea. You can just call me Coryo. Short enough for your little brain to remember, yeah?”

Coryo. It was a nice name. A perfect name.

You moaned out when you felt the cool air hit the peaks of your puffy and swollen nipples. Coriolanus—Coryo— was peeling your dress off of your body. When the fabric was thrown across the room his mouth latched to one of your nipples. You mewled, hands going up to grasp his blonde curls, your chest very sensitive all of a sudden. You could feel that familiar organ probing at your folds, and— when did he put a condom on? You didn’t know, but relief would’ve coursed through you if you weren’t so aroused that you were practically drooling.

“Want it,” you whined out, scraping his scalp with desperation. “Coryo. Please.”

Huffing out a laugh, he reached down and wrapped his hand around his shaft. He gave it a few tugs, made sure the precum pearled over and made a sticky white stain on the inside of the latex. He used the tip to part your pussy lips and find your hole. He pushed in, slow at first, but your pussy was so wet from whatever he slipped in your cup that it was almost easy. Even with his overwhelming size, your cunt accepted his cock greedily, sucking him inside your tight canal. Coryo groaned, practically going cross eyed at the feeling of your warm, wet pussy.

“Never had a cunt so tight,” he grunted against you. “even with all the men you sell yourself to, you’re still squeezing me like a fucking vice, sweetness.”

Your mouth dropped open, his words making you impossibly hornier. Usually you would be offended by such a vile statement, but his big cock was throbbing and wading through your walls with such precision that it had your legs shaking.

And Coriolanus had this charisma about him— something that made his words even more powerful than most. And after that statement, he just kept talking.

“Oh, Angel. My good, special girl,” his thrusts were impossibly fast now, the plap plap plap of his balls slapping against your sore and raw fucked pussy making you cry. “You’re mine now.”

His. His, his, his. Your fingernails dug into him, his chest touching yours sending tingles all throughout your body, and he kept spewing out dirty innuendos. You never thought being fucked could feel this good. His fingers reached down and rubbed your swollen clit, and it was like magic, the way your pussy spasmed and your orgasm washed over you. Seizing up, you mewled out his name as you came on him.

Coryo was mesmerized by your cunt squeezing him so tightly. Your pretty folds, lips spread out and wet, your hole sucking him in like he was meant to be there, like he was meant to fuck his cum into your womb, it was all so much. No amount of classism could keep him from you. Not after this. District or not, he would make you his gorgeous little wife. He would give you everything, love for you, kill for you. With the thought of this possession towards you, his hips began to stutter. Your eyes were closed, but you were still humping yourself against his awaiting thrusts. His balls drew taught, and he could feel his awaiting cum begin to flood the condom wrapped around his length.

No. No, no, no. This wasn’t right.

Not to Coriolanus. Not now— your pussy needed to be fucked full of his hot cum. You needed to be bred. And he was going to keep you and make sure of it.

Coriolanus watched your fluttering eyelids, the small smile grazing your features as his thrusts slowed. Something primal coursed through him, and he slowly pulled himself out of you. Watching your gaping hole made his cock twitch again, and he used his fingers to slowly twist the condom off of his cock. Full of his cum, he spread your lips with two fingers and turned the latex upside down. His spend dropped out of it and onto your used little hole, and you whimpered out as his cum splashed against your cunt.

“Coryo? What’r you doing?”

“Just getting you nice and wet for me, little bird. Close your eyes.. let me fuck you again.”

And like clockwork, his cock was probing your entrance for a second time— his sticky cum being pushed into your fertile womb by the tip of his pink mushroomed tip, his balls making more seed for your perfect pussy, and he was claiming your spent body with everything he had. <33

[joelsgu4tar]

JOEL MILLER FIC RECS

⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽

an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3

Series

— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...

— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.

— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.

— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...

— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.

— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.

— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.

One-Shots

— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.

— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.

— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.

— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.

— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.

— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.

— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.

— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

[phefics]

peeta mellark is gentle and romantic. he doesn’t want to seduce you, he wants to worship you. he’ll wine and dine you, bring you home, take off your heels and rub your sore feet, kiss his way up your legs, before eating your pussy until you cum twice, shouting his name. he might need a little guidance, his tongue fumbling for your clit, but once he finds it, he won’t leave it alone until you’re spent. then, he’ll cuddle up to you and let you sleep on his chest.

gale hawthorne is dominant and cool. he’ll bend you over a table and fuck you from behind, which would be impersonal if he weren’t kissing your shoulders and back, muttering sweet nicknames the whole time. he thinks his cock is enough to make you cum, and sometimes he’s right. his rough, calloused hands grip your hips hard, but his kisses are sweet.

finnick odair is cocky and wicked. he’ll spoil you in rich food and flashy jewelry, pick you up and carry you to bed. he knows every way to make you cum, but he purposefully teases, keeping you on edge, desperate and begging for him. he fucks you good, holding your hand as the mattress creaks with his every thrust. he laughs when you whine for more, but obliges, fucking harder, deeper. after you’ve both cum, he’ll drag you to bathe with him, washing your hair for you before carrying you back to bed.

coriolanus snow is arrogant and selfish. he smirks at you across the room, entices you with those blue eyes. he gets you into a quiet room, maybe even a closet, and pins you against the wall. he sucks marks into your neck and chest, all teeth, before hoisting you up, his hands on your ass, fucking you rough and fast. he finishes inside you, panting. after he’s finished, maybe he’ll ask your name, maybe promise to see you again.

sejanus plinth is devoted and careful. he’s gentle, mostly, but if you tell him that you like it rough, he will happily oblige. he likes to take it slow, building you up before he fucks you, using his fingers or his tongue to get you nice and wet. if you ask nicely, he’ll even let you cum before his cock has even left his pants. but once he’s inside you, he’s feral. messy, desperate kisses, gently squeezing at your throat. after all is said and done, he’ll kiss your neck where his fingers once were, tell you he’s sorry for being rough, that you’re perfect.

[hs-is-loml]

hot take that shouldn’t really be a hot take:

you are meant to fall for young coriolanus in TBOSAS because that is what makes him gain power is his ability to be charismatic and manipulative. he’s devious and conniving but his attractiveness and charm is what makes you over look how cunning and calculated he truly is. everything he does is wily and to benefit himself more than anyone else. so yes, by all means don’t fall for the man for what he later does to finnick and peeta and literally hundreds of other. just maybe realize that’s the whole point of coriolanus snow, and how he rose to power.

not to mention that tom blyth absolutely ate this role up for how well he portrayed the manic transition of coryo to snow

[ficmenrhot]

Hii could u do a smut where reader calls finnick ‘Finny’. Like she moans it out while they’re yk and it absolutely makes him feral. And he’s all like:

“What was that sugar? Say it again.” Etc.

Say it Again

Pairing: Soft dom Finnick x shy fem!reader

Notes: Dom/sub themes, voice kink, praise kink, p in v, slight corruption kink, Finnick Odair is such a munch. Minors DNI

A/N: I haven’t had the motivation to write and I’ve still got a few requests in my drafts, I’m really sorry if they’re yours. Hope I hadn’t lost my touch

————————————————————————

Finnick was your first everything- first relationship, first kiss….the first one to break you in- and quite frankly, he intends to be your last too. He loves how he gets to be the only one to teach you all of these things- to be the person who corrupts your innocence, explores different ways to give you pleasure, and work your body better than you can.

Finnick is always sure to praise you during sex to ensure you’re fully comfortable with him. Sex was never really an intimate or enjoyable thing for him before he had met you, so Finnick wants to make sure you are given the experience he never did. More than anything else, Finnick would like to hear your be more vocal during sex.

Although you occasionally make a few noises here and there, letting out small moans and soft whimpers (because let’s be real, it’s impossible to keep quiet when the Finnick Odair is railing you), you often try to conceal your sounds because you feel a bit insecure about your voice. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick would like nothing more than to hear you moan out his name and to tell him how good he makes you feel. If only you know the ego boost it would give him and how his heart would race at a single comment.

This night, Finnick has you laid out on your shared bed, the mattress soft yet supporting underneath you two as he thrusts deeply into you at a steady pace. His warm mouth is latched onto the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping, sure to leave love marks on your skin as one of his hand reaches for your clit to trace lazy circles. The sex, as usual, is phenomenal and your back is arched in pleasure, legs folded as they hang over his sculpted shoulders.

A few soft whimpers fall from your mouth involuntarily at the undeniable pleasure you’re feeling and you bite down on your bottom lips to control your noises like always. Finnick cocks his head, his mouth momentarily detaching from your neck as his lips form that signature smirk which you are so familiar with. You’re confused as of what Finnick is doing but you’re way too cockdrunk to care. His thick and lengthy cock is pounding into you so well, grazing over your cervix with every thrust and you’re surprised that it isn’t bruised by now.

Finnick grabs a pillow from the side of the bed and swiftly places it under the small of your back as he lifts you up and places you back down with ease. Your mouth falls open and you forget about controlling your volume, a loud moan mixed with a gasp leaving your mouth. The pillow has put you in an even better position, raising your hips slightly so that each of Finnick’s thrust is angled to hit that spongey spot inside of you which makes your toes curl in pleasure and back arch further.

“Hmm honey, you like that, huh?” Finnick teases after seeing your reaction, and you can only nod as you attempt to babble something incoherently.

“F-fuck…Finny, s-so good” you mumble, your mind in a state of haze right now.

Hearing your words and the nickname that just fell out of your mouth, Finnick’s eyes immediately light up and an even bigger smirk replaces the former one on his face. Although you don’t realise in the moment that Finnick has bitten his lips at your comment, you sure can feel his reaction to it as his thick cock pulsates in arousal, causing your warmth to tighten around him, feeling every vein and curve.

“What was that sugar?” Finnick chuckles both smugly and proudly, “say it again for me”

“I-I….”

Only then do you realise what you’ve said and your cheeks immediately turn pink, a flustered look appearing on your face which Finnick finds so, so adorable. You struggle to find the right words to say, only blinking shyly as you attempt to cover your face, but Finnick pulls your hands away as he stares down at you with the same smirk.

“Don’t be shy honey, your whimpers and moans are music to my ears……besides, your voice turns me on so much, you have no idea.”

Finnick whispers into your ears, and you feel a tingling sensation in your stomach, ‘butterflies’ Finnick calls them. You blink, not knowing that that is what Finnick feels about the sounds you make, and it makes you feel better.

“Now..I’ll ask you again, sugar, what is it you called me, hmm?”

Finnick hums as he cocks his head with a small teasing smile, waiting for an answer.

“…Finny. I called you Finny..”

“Good girl.”

God save Finnick Odair from the things he is going to do to you.

———————————————————————————

A/N: to whoever had requested this, hope this is what you had wanted <3 Once again, all likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, so are comments!

[bruisedboys]

i love ur writing sm 🥹 since we got jealous!finnick can we get jealous!reader and how finnick reacts to it? ❤️

“Baby, come on.” Finnick follows you out of the glass elevator, almost jogging to catch up with your angry march. You speed up pointedly. “What did I do?”

“Nothing, Finnick,” you say sharply, without looking at him. The entire elevator ride was heavy with your silent irritation. You don’t want to talk about it, obviously.

“Well, why are you acting like I did?” Finnick presses.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You— sweetheart.” Finnick snags your wrist and pulls you back. You scowl, annoyed at being pushed around. You struggle in his grip but he only grabs your other wrist, holding you still. It’s times like this that you hate having such a muscular boyfriend.

“Come on,” he says, practically begging with you now. “What’s the matter? I don’t understand why you’re so mad.”

“It’s nothing,” you say through your teeth, still struggling against his grip.

Finnick rolls his eyes and holds you tighter, his fingers digging into your wrists. “Is this about Johanna?”

“What?” You falter in your attempts to escape. It is about Johanna, actually. You’d rather he didn't know that, though. “Why would it be about Johanna?”

Even to your own ears your incredulity sounds fake, your voice a notch too high. Finnick stares at you hard and you look away, burning hot under his gaze. Big mistake.

“So it is about her?” he asks slowly. You can hear the knowing smirk in his voice.

“I don’t—“ you stammer, desperately trying to string together a lie that’s not as embarrassing as the truth. You stare at him and his awful grin for a few seconds, fuming. Then, “Fine, yes, it’s about Johanna. She wouldn’t leave you alone!”

“We talked for ten minutes, honey,” Finnick says, measured to your frantic. “You know she’s just a friend.”

“She called you handsome and then winked at you,” you say, mortified, your act completely forgotten. "What am I supposed to think about that?"

You realise your mistake too late — you’ve given yourself away. You’re about to take it back in an attempt to save yourself from an onslaught of teasing when Finnick laughs.

“So you’re saying I’m not handsome?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

Bastard. You hate him, you swear.

“Never mind,” you say bluntly. “Whatever.”

You twist out of his grasp and stalk off. You’re still absolutely rolling in annoyance when you get to yours and Finnick’s shared room. You get as far as the entryway before Finnick’s on you again like a hawk. He grabs you while you're sliding your shoes off and pushes you none too gently against the nearest wall.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Sure you are. You just laughed at me!" You say incredulously, hitting him in the chest.

“Because you’re being silly, darling," Finnick says. Somehow, he makes it sound affectionate. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. "Johanna’s a friend. How can you think I’d ever look at anyone else that way when I have you, hm? I’m yours forever, sweet girl."

You blink at him. What is his problem? He laughs at you for being jealous and then says something as life ruining as that? He’s gonna be the death of you one day.

"You really need to stop saying things like that,” you say weakly.

Finnick tilts his head to the side, a knowing look in his ocean eyes. “Why’s that?”

You glare. “You know why.”

Finnick just laughs. “You’re adorable.”

You’re about to tell him to shut up when he kisses you, too fast for you to see it coming, too lovely for you to stop it. His mouth is warm. He tastes like wine. You forget you’re angry at him. When he’s kissing you like this, you have no reason to be jealous. You guess you never really did.

“I’m sorry,” you say when he pulls away. His kiss has unravelled you. Sucked away all your anger and hot jealousy. “For being so mad at you. S’not your fault.”

"It's okay," Finnick tells you, shrugging. He dips down to kiss you again. You push up on your toes to reciprocate his heat, your hand pushing up to love on the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s pulling back before either of you can get too carried away, a smug smile on his pretty mouth as he says, “Jealousy looks good on you, baby."

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it 🤍

[luxbub]

oooo can you do Virgin!reader with experienced Finnick?

a/n hii, thank you for the request, this was definitely the best thing to begin writing finnick with and it may not be the best thing youve read cause i’m still kinda figuring out his character, but i still hope you like it<3

also this is the longest smut i’ve ever written

virgin!reader and experienced Finnick

minors DNI +18

not proofread!!

So i kinda imagines this as a relationship between a mentor finick and tribute or victor reader, cause i feel like thats the most realistic one. I imagine that they would already be in a relationship, definitely said i love you’s already and are going for the next step. And even if you’re moving slow and want to take your time, i think that finnick would understand especially having in mind what he snow made him do, he definitely understands where you come from and why you want to take your time.

At first it was just an innocent make out session. You were sprawled out on finnick’s lap, with your thighs on either side of his, as he held an iron grip on the fat of your hips. Your fingers twisted in his hair, tugging from time to time, causing soft whimpers to tumble from his lips.

Now Finnick knew that you were a virgin since the beginning of your relationship , it was obvious by the way you were messily humping his thigh. But the self control was getting harder and harder to keep. Your sweet whimpers he swallowed, your soft whines anytime that he disconnected from your lips.

It was obsessive, the way Finnick couldn’t stop thinking about you, your scent, your touch, your pussy.

The pussy that he could feel throbbing even through the thick material of his pants and your panties.

He started kissing his way down to your throat, nipping at the spot just below your ear, making you moan and tug at the already gripped strands of hair.

You were whispering his name, begging him to touch you, the friction from his jean-clad thigh wasn’t enough for your achy cunt. Finnick’s pupils were blown from focusing so hard on the little mewls you made as your grinding became more desperate.

Finnick slid one hand down to your crotch as his fingers danced along the lacy line of your panties. He pushed his way into your cunt as you squirmed at the feeling of his cold fingertips on your hardened clit.

“You sure you want that, sweetheart?” You responded with a nod, too busy taking in the bliss from the little friction his hand was giving you. “I need to hear you say it.”

You almost screamed “y-yes, i want to feel you, finnick.”, looking at his smug face. Your eyes were starting to fill with tears from the pressure he was putting on your clit.

Your head is thrown back, spft moan spilling from your lips, as finick continues oushing his fingers in and out of you.

It came too soon, too fast. Your orgasm came, before you could latch onto finnick’s hand and beg him for more, his mouth was clashing into yours, tongues intertwined as you started unbuckling his belt the best you could without looking.

Soon enough both of you were panting as Finnick looked at your eyes searching for a hint of doubt, finding only pleasure and reassurance. So he guides his cock between your lips and bottoms out with a single thrust.

The feeling of your maidenhood breaking makes more tears well-up in your eyes as Finnick freezes asking if you’re sure you wanna keep going, but you only nod, knowing that you’ve been ready to take Finnick for weeks now.

Finnick groans, leaning his head onto your shoulder, your cunt was too much, too tight, he doubted he would last much longer if you continued squeezing him like that.

He softly starts thrusting more steadily as the pain turns into a pleasure and soon enough both of you are trying to shuffle each other’s moans.

Your breathing turns shallow, sharp breaths coming out of your mouths as your eyes don’t dare to leave each other. Finnick watches the way you squeeze your eyes or furrow your brows when he delivers a bit too hard of a thrust, but he presses his lips to yours, soothing you.

Your walls are fluttering around his dick as his starts hutting your cervix a bit too fast, going in so deep you never thought anyone could reach, but there he was Finnick Odair, stealing your breath with every thrust as you could feel your second orgasm coming closer and closer.

You were babbling, spit, that you didn’t know if it was yours or Finnick’s was coming out of your mouth “I—“ .

“I know, baby, me too.” His hips shutter for a second and that was enough to make your legs twitch and your vision cloud as you came around his dick.

Your walls squeeze him for one last time, before he grunts, clenching his teeth, as he pulls out, spruting tick ropes of white all over your stomach.

[yesimwriting]

thinking about bestfriend!coryo who you trust more than anyone else, so when he starts getting touchier, you think nothing of it. a lot of friends are like that and he starts small. holding your hand, thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. keeping an assuring hand on the small of your back as you walk through crowded halls or during formal events. you somehow miss the way that he always shows up just as some guy is getting too close to you, never noticing the glare directed at the intruders as his fingers find yours.

then he's coming over to study and the two of you lose track of time. so you can't send him home, not with how harsh winter nights in the capitol can be.

so you invite him to stay over. you're willing to wake up the maid to set up a guest room, but it's so late and she's been asleep for hours. and your father's out of town as usual, away on business in the districts, and your mother just recently left to join him. so there's no one there to hold the two of you to social propriety.

so why not let him stay in your room? just this once. it's not like he's some random boy, he's your coryo. it's also cold, your room being on the far end of your family's estate where the central heating can't ever manage to work consistently, so it's practical. you can't find anything wrong in the way his side presses into yours beneath plush sheets.

before you know it, he's finding excuses to come over and staying so late that it's just easier for him to stay over at least once a week.

and the longer this goes on, the easier it is to not read into more and more. a hand just above your knee while you're both sitting in the library, his foot absentmindedly pushing against yours while you're both reading, the rare brush of his lips against the back of your palm or your shoulder when you're are alone. how can any of that be weird or too much when the two of you are used to falling asleep while holding onto each other?

you get so used to it that it's instinct to welcome anything involving him. if coryo's placing an arm around your shoulder, you relax into his side. if his fingers are trailing patterns against your arm, you don't move. if he's pulling you closer while half asleep, you smooth circles against his back until his breathing evens. he's your best friend, it's the least you can do and it's not like the displays of affection bother you.

it becomes so habitual to just go along with it because it's coryo, who'd never do anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, that you don't even react when he finds you at some capitol party hosted by your parents, stone faced as he grabs your arm. you're bubbly, ready to introduce him to the son of one of your father's co-workers that he can barley bring himself to look at.

he mumbles the faintest greeting before pulling you away. that's what you react to, being dragged harshly through a room full of people. coryo's so in his head that all he gets from your reaction is that you're pushing him away for the first time ever after spending most of the night talking to some guy that's everything he's insecure about.

he doesn't let go of you until you're in a hall closet. before you can ask what's gotten into him, he's closing the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours to prove that he can. that you'll let him.

you've spent so long letting coryo set the pace for everything that you kiss him back before you can think. eventually your mind catches up and you're pulling back enough to look him in the eye. all it takes is the slightest nod of his head and you're leaning back in because he's your coryo and he's always known where to go with things.

----

----

more bestfriend! coryo 

[jo-harrington]

loch ness monster pls

Mouse. Good morning. Happy Monday. You are...the love of my life and for that I bring you a little gift of angst...I'm sorry...

TW: Difficult relationships with families on both Eddie and the little Knight's part

Haven't ready Heaven yet? Find it here.

And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

Christmas Eve 1984

He hadn't meant to do it.

He was only trying to help.

You'd been working as many shifts as you could get your hands on at Bradley's. Tim, the manager, approved overtime for everyone and you jumped at the chance. Eddie couldn't blame you; Wayne did the same thing at the plant and, if he had a job, he probably would too.

You had your little date nights planned throughout the month, but aside from that...you both agreed that Christmas wouldn't be anything special.

Wayne was working, like he did most holidays, but the grocery store would be closed after 5pm. That meant the two of you would post up on your couch, watch It's a Wonderful Life, and eat a shit ton of Bagel Bites until one of you (probably Eddie) puked.

And then tomorrow you’d drive across town to spend the morning with Wayne after he came home from work before doing it all over again.

It was the perfect Christmas.

The simple act of luxuriating in the indulgent laziness of a holiday without actually celebrating anything. Because Christmas was not just a time of festivities and joy; it was a reminder of everything you didn't have.

Eddie had a key to your place, so he figured he would get everything started while you wrapped up your shift.

He just wanted to surprise you.

Wanted to make you smile.

It was the least he could do.

As he unlocked the door, he noticed your mailbox was stuffed. Overflowing with letters and envelopes.

He shuffled the handful of plastic bags filled with gas station treats into one hand as he emptied the box with the other. And right as he thought he had a hold on everything, one letter--a postcard--fluttered to the floor.

"Fuck," Eddie hissed, and decided he was better off running everything upstairs and then coming back for it, than trying to grab it and drop everything.

Truthfully, he forgot about it for a minute. Got too distracted.

Your cozy little apartment above the deli was a mess. You didn't really have a lot--it's why you always insisted that nights in were spent at the trailer, it felt more like a home--but what you did have was in disarray. So he tidied it a little, did the ol' Munson 5 Minute Clean Up. Dishes out of the drying rack and into the cupboard, wrappers and random bits of paper into the garbage, half folded laundry in the basket shoved into drawers.

He got the snacks all set up on your little coffee table, grabbed pillows and a quilt from your bed to set up a nice little nest for the two of you on the couch. He turned your shitty second-hand television on to NBC so it would be all ready when you got home.

And just as Eddie slid the trays of Bagel Bites, he remembered the postcard.

The intention was to run down, grab it, and then toss it into the pile with the rest of the bills and flyers and holiday cards from neighbors around town.

But the colorful picture was too enticing not to take a closer look.

Beautiful, cool watercolors. A large and imposing draconic figure gliding through, each scale inked in detail. Block letters spelling "Greetings from Loch Ness."

Eddie, curious, turned the card over and looked at the handful of stamps, all unfamiliar and from various countries, that overlapped each other in the corner. Your name and address were practically carved into the cardboard, the sender's hand obviously too heavy with anger or stress or regret.

And on the opposite side...

Merry Christmas. From, Dad.

He was suddenly overcome with the feeling that he made a mistake.

It was the one line he had yet to cross with you.

Eddie could talk about his family until he was blue in the face. His anger towards his dad that he used humor to cope with. The hole in his heart that formed when his mother died. His unending gratitude and respect for his Uncle. The worry he felt and the responsibility he had towards Rick, a man who couldn't claim him by name or by blood, but still did his best.

But you?

He knew you had an elderly grandma who lived in Chicago; you lived with her right up until you left. You...had a mother. And your father...forbid you from dropping out of school and you did so anyway.

Now he was sending you a postcard from Scotland. Carried with him all over Europe, it seemed, if the stamps were any indicator.

Eddie was a typical, hyperactive young adult who considered himself in love with you. And because of that, he wanted to know everything about you, just as you were eager to learn everything you could about him. It was a mutual agreement not to push one another...

But you'd been together for months...

Suddenly the doorknob jiggled and Eddie jumped. He fumbled to look casual since he knew he was nowhere near athletic enough to make it up the stairs and into the apartment before someone walked in.

It was his luck, or lack thereof, that you walked in.

Your weary eyes brightened when you saw him--it took you a second to realize why he was there but it wasn’t the first time he had done something like this--and then they immediately darted down to the postcard in his hands.

You scrunched your nose and reached a gloved hand out to take it from him. There was enough force in it that Eddie immediately thought it was annoyance directed at him.

You flipped the postcard over once, twice, and then you folded it in half and tucked it into the pocket of your coat.

You opened your mouth to say something and his heart practically stopped in his chest. He thought you might yell, tell him that he was invading your privacy, that he should just go home. Instead you shook your head and stepped closer to engulf him in a hug.

He asked you about your day, you asked if he had done any of the homework that had been assigned over holiday break.

It was warm, it was familiar, it was everything he wanted--to be fully consumed with each other--if only it wasn't for...

"Don’t worry about it,” you muttered into the fabric of his shirt, face still squished against him. “It’s just a postcard.”

Eddie could only assume that you felt the turmoil within him and felt the need to soothe it.

He wondered whether those words brought you any comfort at all.

Hours later, as the two of you tidied the mess away before going to bed, he saw the postcard in the trash. Ripped to bits. The beautiful watercolor eyes of the Loch Ness monster staring up at him woefully.

And he knew that the answer was no.

[prismatica-the-strange]

Send me cute blurb prompts?

(Especially for Eddie and Viv but if you have a cute one for any of my other soulmates that works too)

[euphemiaamillais]

playing dangerous pt 1 - coriolanus snow 🎀

coriolanus snow has always wanted the perfect woman. he’s searched high and low, among the likes of heiresses and actresses, and even—though he’d never dare admit it—district girls. he’s given up hope, until he finds you. you’re perfect—innocent, beautiful and obedient. he’s been watching you for months, and one night, he just can’t resist taking you home and making you his.

cw: 18+//kidnapping//mentions of sex//eventual stockholm syndrome//eventual smut

he first caught site of you in the corso, strolling past in your little white dress and matching pillbox hat. his heart caught in his throat—you were the one. perfect, beautiful beyond compare, and as he learned over the coming weeks, completely untouched. he was desperate to make you his.

he had learned where you lived, and so, every morning, he would wait outside your apartment block, and then trail behind you and follow you on your daily chores. you went to the market most mornings, always holding some sort of shopping list, and without fail you purchased yourself a pear, which he watched you devour. his cock hardened as he watched the way your teeth sank into the flesh of the pair, mouth closing around it, and eyes fluttering shut in satisfaction. at night, he’d imagine the way your lips would look around his cock, stroking himself to the thought of you.

a few weeks later, he’d managed to learn your name. you’d met up with a friend, and he’d heard her utter it—your entire name, in fact—and afterwards he’d raced home to find any semblance of information on you. you’d recently graduated from the academy, though had made no notable achievements. he couldn’t remember seeing you in the hall, but you’d been a freshman when he was a senior. he wondered how such beauty could have passed him by.

he learned that your father was a wealthy banker who had made investments in district 4, and that you had not had any relationships of note. he’d found that out from one of your neighbours, who’d seen him looking at you from afar, assuming he was an admirer. this made his heart stir. he had to have you. he had to ruin you, before anybody else could get their filthy hands on you. and so he set out the perfect plan to make you his.

he’d moved into his own apartment, free from the prying eyes of grandma’am and tigris, and was satisfied that it would make a good home for the both of you. he fantasised about coming home from a long, hard day making connections with the well-to-do, to you cooking him dinner. once you’d eaten, you’d see how he needed to be relieved, and get on your knees. complete obedience. that’s what he longed for.

he knew he could only get it from a girl like you. you were so pure and sweet, if he could only teach you the ways of the world, show you how to please him and to know you ought to always obey him.

—

the day he planned to kidnap you was a frigid one, and he worried you wouldn’t make your usual trip to the market. but alas, you did, dressed in a thick coat lined with fur—a sign of your wealth—and a fur hat. you looked so cute, cheeks flushed from the snow that whirled around in the air. he wondered how you’d look when he drove his cock into you that night. he was so fuckin’ hard already, knowing that you were going to be all his.

it was difficult to see through the snow, and you kept shivering as you attempted to continue walking, one hand crooked above your eye to fend off the flakes. you thought you heard the crunching of feet behind you, but when you turned, there was no-one there. you must’ve been imagining it.

you made your way another few blocks, and turned into the alley, down the usual path you took. you’d never been scared to come down here before, after all, you know you way around so well. however, today was different. you heard that sound again, and when you turned around this time, you rammed straight into a tall, blonde haired man. he was so tall, and bore a foreboding smile on his face.

you attempted to back away, taking a few steps back and stumbling, but he caught you before you could land ass first in the snow. you squinted, wondering if you recognised him. there was something oddly familiar about that face; noble, with those piercing blue eyes.

‘i’m sorry,’ you attempt to shake yourself free of his grip, but his hands clamp down on your wrists, and you cry out in pain.

‘hush, quiet sweetheart,’ he gives you a look of warning, and you tremble against him.

‘please, let me go,’ you beg, but he shakes his head with a laugh.

‘i’m afraid i can’t do that, sweetheart,’ he sighs, and you begin to look around, praying that somebody will come past and help you. but nobody does. the alley is completely empty, and there’s little chance that many people will have braved the snow.

‘please,’ tears begin to well in your eyes, stinging your cold cheeks as they roll down, melting the frost on your face.

‘i’m sorry, but it’s not going to happen,’ he loosens his grip on one of your wrists, but he’s still clasped around the other so hard that it would be in vain to attempt to free yourself.

he reaches for something in his back pocket, and pulls out what seems to be a handkerchief. it’s dainty, with a little rose embroidered into the edge. is he giving you something to dry your eyes?

you don’t remember much after that. he grabs the handkerchief and holds it over your mouth and nose—the smell of chemicals is pungent. you remember blinking, trying to force the stars from your vision, and then your legs came away and everything turned to black.

—

you wake in what appears to be a bedroom. it’s beautiful, with black marble walls, a canopy bed and large french doors which lead onto a balcony with a full view of the corso. you attempt to move, but find that one of your wrists is bound to the headboard.

a searing pain comes when you try to pull at the restraint, and you give a cry of disgruntled frustration. where the hell are you? your memory is hazy; you recall making your way to the market, like you do every morning… and it goes from there.

you’re not in your coat either. in fact, you’re only in the slip you wore under your clothes, with the coat and dress neatly folded over a nearby armchair. your heart begins to pound, you’re frantic. has somebody touched you without your knowing?

your bottom lip trembles, and you feel tears welling in your eyes. it’s not long before you’re full-on sobbing, voice ringing out across the room. the doorknob turns, and the blonde-haired man from before comes in. it’s hard to make him out through the tear-induced bleary vision, but you’re certain he was there in the alleyway.

‘what’s wrong?’ he sits down real close to you, hand caressing your face. you snap back reflexively, appalled that he would dare to touch you.

‘where the hell am i!?’ you spit, and drool actually spills from your puffy lips. he swipes it up with his finger, fascinated at the waterworks. he didn’t think you were going to be such a little bitch.

‘you’re fine, sweetheart,’ he presses a kiss to your cheek, and with your free hand, you attempt to swat him away. he grabs your wrist, and restrains you. you can see his muscles flexing under his shirt, and are suddenly aware that if you tried to escape, or disobey him, he’d have just that much power over you. any shred of hope you had dissipated.

‘fine?’ you croak out. ‘fine?! you won’t even tell me where i am! or who you even are!’

you’re flailing about pathetically, and he finds himself growing angrier with you. he’d have to teach you obedience, likely fuck it into you. perhaps when you’d had a taste of his cock you’d finally understand that you were meant to be. he loved you, he really did; and he wanted you to love him too. to want to do anything for him, to obey him in every way.

‘that’s not important, sweetheart,’ he smiles, blue eyes swimming with intention. you wondered what exactly he planned to do to you. kill you, perhaps? cut your body into tiny pieces? you shudder at the thought.

‘i want to go home,’ your tears grow thick, and you force your eyes shut, not wanting to bear the shame of emotion.

he pats your head affectionately, a little crestfallen to see his girl so distraught. was he that terrifying? he knew his good looks had allowed him to get away with a lot more than the average person, but the fact that you were so outright about your upset; it struck something inside him.

‘this is your home now, doll,’ he coos, and your eyes blink open, hazy with tears.

‘please,’ you beg, voice cracking in desperation. ‘please just let me go home! i’ll do anything if you let me go home—my parents, they’ll be worried sick about me, they’ll have the peacekeepers search the cameras. if they find you, you’ll be dead!’

you hope you can scare him with your talk of death, but he remains stoic-faced, with only a small unnerving smile playing at his lips. his hand is still firmly clamped around your wrist, and you can see a faint purple ring beginning to form where he’s grasping at you.

‘oh, i don’t think so, sweetheart. you see, i’m not sure president ravenstill would let that happen,’ he warns, and you furrow your brow.

‘president ravenstill?’ you ask. ‘what do you mean?’

he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘why, i’m very close with him. i don’t think he’d have the peacekeepers bother with such a petty task when it’s just a stupid little girl who’s gone missing.’

it hurts him to call you stupid, but you were never the brightest star in the academy, having finished 62nd in your class of 70.

‘oh…’ you’re at a loss for words, while body trembling with disbelief; with anger. how dare he take you?! how dare he refuse to even tell you wear you are, and to inform you that there was no way of getting out? it was cruelty. and all he did was smile.

‘don’t look so upset, princess. i’m going to take care of you. i’ll get you something pretty to wear. i’m afraid your clothes were utterly ruined when i took you. somebody wet herself,’ he laughs at your body’s pathetic response to a threat, and now you’ve got your answer as to why you’re so bare.

‘i don’t want anything,’ you hiss, turning your head away from him in fury, but he grabs your chin and forces you to meet his icy gaze.

‘if you’d prefer to traipse around my apartment in nothing but your slip, i won’t complain,’ he eyes your bare neck and arms. ‘but i don’t want you to be cold. i’ll get you whatever your little heart desires, how about that?’

you shake your head, fat tears still rolling down your flushed cheeks. he clicks his tongue in disapproval, but leaves you to wallow in the bed.

—

he returns some time later, baring a tray of food. you had tried to sleep, and so watch him with groggy eyes. he’s smiling, and when he places the tray down on the side table, pats you on the hand.

‘i’m not hungry,’ you mutter, but the groaning of your belly betrays you. you don’t know how long it’s been, but you’d skipped breakfast that morning. it wasn’t too late, judging by the sun that was high in the sky, but you’d still not eaten since dinner the night before.

he sighs, a disapproving look in his eyes. ‘i didn’t say you had a choice, hm? i can’t have my girl going hungry.’

the food did look delicious, you had to admit. some sort of soup, and bread—it made your mouth water. but still, you shake your head.

he picks up the spoon from the tray, and scoops up a serving of soup in it. you move to turn your head away, but he uses his free hand to grab your chin.

‘open up,’ he commands. you don’t want him to feel like you’re trusting of him, but you’re wary of what he’ll do if you don’t oblige.

he forces the soup down your throat, and you swallow. it tastes delicious. you open your mouth again, hungry for more, stomach still growling. he smiles, watching as you lap up the drops he spoons into your mouth. he wonders what you’d look like, taking his cock the same way, swallowing his cum with the same wide-eyed hunger you have now.

‘good girl,’ he praises, wiping a loose drop of soup from the corner of your lips. ‘that wasn’t so hard now, was it?’

you shake your head, and presses a kiss to your cheek. you flinch reflexively, which causes him to scowl. he drags his thumb across the place he kissed, admiring the soft red mark it's left in your skin. it'll fade in a minute or so, but you can feel the imprint like it's a nagging bruise.

he reaches over to feed you the bread, breaking it up into tiny pieces and shoving it past your plump lips like you're a little bird. you're so fragile, he wonders if you'd break if he tried to take you today. no, he'll wait for that. it's frustrating, but he'll wait—he wants you to be strong enough to take him, and tell him how good he feels, pumping you with his cock.

you eat until you are full—so full that you feel sick, your stomach aches. he's delighted, a wry smile playing upon his lips. your throat is parched though, and you gesture to the glass on the tray.

'please, could i have some?' you ask, and he nods. you're not sure what it is, a dark liquid, but when he presses the rim to your lips you gulp it down.

delight flickers in his eyes, and you suddenly feel your head swimming. the potent mixture is familiar, like a heady wine mixed with sweet spices. you can't place your finger on it.

'it's posca,' he sees the quizzical look on your face, and your brows raise in alarm.

'you gave me posca! are you insane?' you cry out, already feeling your limbs go heavy from the alcohol. you're so tired.

'shh, it's only to help you sleep.' he strokes your hair, and if you weren't so exhausted, you would have forced his hand away.

your eyelids begin to flutter shut as your mouth stretches into a yawn. you can't be sure if he hasn't laced it with something, but the way you gulped the drink down means you can't tell if it's just the effects of the posca, which is usually only taken in small amounts.

'goodnight, sweetheart.' he murmurs, kissing your temple and pulling the blankets up around you. you look so innocent, stretched out in your supine form. it's almost as if he didn't kidnap you.

you shut your eyes, too overwhelmed by the alcohol to fight the sleep, but your heart pounds erratically in your ears, a reminder that you're not out of harm's way...

—

taglist: @personalque @jacesvelaryons @justacaliforniandreamer

[coryosbaby]

sigh just thinking about sejanus with his ditzy little girlfriend 😴😴

UGHH he’d be so gentle with her :(

I just know Sej is a gentleman, and he’s EXTRA gentleman-ly when it comes to taking care of his girl. He holds doors open whenever they go in anywhere, loves to buy her her favorite plushies, lip gloss, and clothes. He helps her in school, and I can imagine him giving her little rewards for every question she gets right, like a piece of candy or his cock something to suck on. If she gets something wrong there’s no punishment or scolding— he only gives her gentle instructions in a soft, nurturing tone. He also loves to be her memory, basically, because she forgets everything. She can’t help it ! He’ll tell her every little detail she needs to know, every little product from the store she needs to get.

OMG and imagine her writing him lil love letters :( I know he has a box that he keeps full of them, and sometimes he puts the ribbons from her hair in there, too. Or a small sample of her perfume!! And he keeps it with him whenever he has to go on trips. He definitely lets her sit in his lap and play with his hair while he has to do work, too. He’ll press kisses to her shoulders as he works, and he’ll let her fall asleep on him until he’s done— then he’ll guide her back to their shared bed and tell her how precious she is and how much he loves her.

When he goes on trips is the hardest </3 he sets everything up beforehand for her, though, even prepping a few of her meals before he leaves. She has this tradition that she always wears his nightshirt on the day of his trips, the one he slept in the night before. She likes to keep it on her for a few days bc it smells just like him.

No obligations are set for her, either. She’s his precious little doll, his perfect princess, and no princess should have to work. Especially not one as sensitive and pure as her— he knows she’s a strong girl but he also knows how mean people can be. So he makes sure to only keep her around people that have good intentions.

Also, definitely think that he wraps little ribbons around her fingers that have things she needs to remember on them. And whenever they’re out in public, he always holds her hand and keeps her behind him, pulling her towards their needed direction because she tends to get side tracked if she isn’t busy drooling over his big, muscle-ey shoulders. And UGHHH she loves his shoulders/back, always buries her face in them and has her arms wrapped around them. And when they sleep she’s always clinging to him with her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, and his hands are always stroking soft circles around her torso n he always loves to sing her to sleep with lullabies :(( Sej hates his voice but you don’t so that’s what he does it every night like clockwork.

And he’s so soft like a big teddy bear and she loves that he’s her big strong protector.

(I’m so okay ab him guys.)

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

coriolanus the morning before the plinth prize. reader goes to the penthouse and tells him he looks handsome

Turning my requests into blurbs or else I'll never get through them

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—

Tigris was watching with a smile as Coriolanus finished buttoning his shirt, proud of how it came out. It was one of his father’s old shirts, repaired and altered by Tigris. She had an amazing talent for clothing and styling. 

 ‘’How is Panem’s future youngest president?’’ you asked as you entered the penthouse, a small paper bag in your left hand. 

Coriolanus turned around, a soft smile tugging at his lips when seeing you. ‘’I’m a bit stressed,’’ he admitted, catching his bottom lip with his teeth. 

You walked up to him. ‘’You’re the hardest working person I know, Coryo. You’ve had the best grades in our class since I’ve known you. No one deserves the Plinth prize more than you.’’ 

He slipped on his vest and Tigris helped him with the creases, making sure he was looking his best. 

‘’You look handsome,’’ you pointed out, fixing a few blond curls.

Coriolanus looked down at your black dress. ‘’You look beautiful too.’’ 

‘’I brought you breakfast.’’ You handed him the paper bag, knowing he didn’t eat anything this morning. ’’Strawberry scones.’’

His stomach made a grumbling noise at the mention of scones. He tried to cover it by clearing his throat, still embarrassed by his family's financial status. ‘’You didn’t have to…’’ 

‘’What he meant was ‘thank you’,’’ Tigris interjected, swatting her cousin’s arm. ‘’Don’t be ungrateful.’’ 

Coriolanus took the paper bag and kissed your cheek. ‘’Thank you.’’ 

—

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