#kaia writes coriolanus

[kisses4kaia]

WE NEED MORE SUB CORYO I LOVE IT SM WHATBTHENFUCK

- little treat for 1k. enjoy, my angels 🌬️.

“no, no, no, i can’t, really, i can’t,” he pleads with you, squirming sporadically under the vibrator you hold to his cock. “you can, just breathe. give me one more, yeah? you can do it, my brave, brave, boy,”

he’s hesitant to agree, but he nods with a whimper once he sees that look on your face, the one that reassures him that he’s safe and no one is trying to hurt him; even if that isn’t totally true.

consequently, proving he is the good boy you know him to be, corio lets you milk one more weak load out of his red, achy, tip, all in hopes that you would be proud of him.

and you are, but that doesn’t stop you from biting your lip and looking back up at the exhausted boy.

“you sure you can’t give me just one more? please?”

and as coriolanus bites his lip and begs for mercy he knows he will not receive, it dawns on him that he is completely, totally, and utterly, fucked.

[cybersunnie]

sunnie baby !! have u any thoughts inside that beautiful noggin of yours on academic rival corio ?

Coriolanus thought too highly of himself.

You were clever, but he believed he was even more so. That was how his mind worked.

But he would be a fool to ignore the constant praises you received from professors and fellow peers. With your wit and eloquence, you managed to climb your way to the top of the class, though you have yet to surpass him. But you were getting close. 

Dangerously close.

He couldn't deny that you were a threat. A threat to the Plinth Prize he so desperately wanted, needed, and deserved. And here you were, trying to take away that from him. 

It's almost cute—how hard you were trying.

Did Dean Highbottom put you to this? The dean had always despised him. Coriolanus wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. But why would you agree to do it? From as far as he knew, he hadn't wronged you in the past. You wouldn't have any motive.

Unless you just enjoyed being insufferable.

Whenever he answered a question in class, you would raise your hand and add to it as if his response wasn't adequate. When a professor complimented you, he swore you would look at him just to see how he would react. (Coriolanus never gave you the satisfaction, though). If you two were in the same room, friendly discussions turned into debates. The first time it happened was in Communications. After that, Satyria Click often placed you and him on opposing sides to “see what happens.”

But you were still polite to him even with this rivalry between you two. Nauseatingly polite. 

Your smiles and honeyed words made his ego swell, but Coriolanus knew what they truly were. They were sneers masked as smiles. Taunts that were worded to sound like praise.

How did he know? Because he was doing the same to you.

In the eyes of an outsider, you two were civil—classmates who respected each other despite the ever-growing tension between them. But it was all to save face, to seem like the bigger person.

Deep down, Coriolanus liked playing this little game with you. Cat and mouse. Near captures and repeated escapes. You were so easy to read. So predictable. He liked making you think you could outsmart him. He found pleasure in making you think you were winning. And he would let you bask in that feeling of victory so that it would hurt more when he defeats you. How could he not play with you?

As the rivalry ensued, he would watch you from afar. Some may call it obsessive, but he called it studying. He studied your mannerisms and learned the subject you excelled in the most so that he could take that away from you, too. 

You were all-encompassing. Everything Coriolanus did shifted back to you. What would you do? And how could he do it better?

There was one thing he didn't know—one thing he was unaware of. If Coriolanus’ delusions hadn’t blinded him, he would have realized that you just wanted to do well in your academics. He would have realized that you weren't trying to compete with him, and that your smiles and compliments were genuine. No ulterior motive.

But it didn't matter. He was having too much fun.

And Coriolanus would like to play with you, his "rival," just a little longer.

tldr: in my head, academic rival!coryo is a paranoid and delusional mess that thinks you are out to get him, but in actuality, you are just trying to do good in school—completely unaware of said "rivalry". author's note: not proofread. this is my roman empire. i love writing delusional coryo. anyways, i hope you liked this kaia mwah! 💋

[kisses4kaia]

on my knees, foaming at the mouth, begging for more sub coryo

u guys are so funny oh my goodness😭 (slight au where sejanus did not die because we love him🥰) i got a bit carried away as you can see!! but that’s ok !!!! also, university!corio .. okok go read now plz enjoy and reblog :)

being the girlfriend of the winner to the plinth prize whilst simultaneously biting your tongue constantly was no easy feat.

every thoughtless, careless, borderline sexist, comment corio received from older men—and even some of your male peers—along the lines of, “oh, she’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? bet you keep her on her knees, huh?” (whilst you were right there, mind you!), infuriated you beyond belief and typically made corio tense up and awkwardly brush them off.

because no, corio did not always keep you on your knees. as a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite. you had him on his knees, every night, begging and pleading for a taste of you. and if he was a good boy, he would get one. you were assertive, not cruel.

you so badly wished you could shut them down, tell them exactly how it is, but you still loved and respected corio, and you knew what might happen to his reputation if that kind of secret got out.

so you kept on biting your tongue.

and tonight, corio’s arm is snaked around your torso and his large palm rests on the small of your back.

you’re at a elite party he was invited to, making friendly conversation with clemensia and sejanus while throwing witty comments back and forth with your boyfriend, when all of a sudden, one of crassus snow’s old friends come up to the both of you and it goes how you would expect; however, this time, something’s different.

this time, he laughs boisterously and nods, agreeing with the crude comment the man made. coriolanus shakes his hand and says “oh, absolutely. would you expect any less from my father’s son?”

you are fucking appalled, and the astounded expression on your face doesn’t do much to hide it.

when the old man whose name you didn’t bother to remember finally leaves, corio finally looks down at you to see your narrow eyes shooting daggers into his.

you say no words and storm off, and he’s hot on your trail. “baby? baby, hold up, slow down!”

you heed no mind to his words, and only stop your stampede when you find an unoccupied bedroom and drag him inside.

it was glamorous, which was to be expected, considering the host of the party was volumnia gaul; she always was one for dramatic flare. the ceiling was high and the walls were crowned in gold paint. the layout was simple, there was nothing but a queen-sized bed, an empty dresser, and bare vanity gracing its presence, all but proving that it was not it use, and perfectly fine for you to punish coriolanus in.

“what the fuck was that?” your voice is scornful and with the way your face twists up and contorts into a look of contempt, he knows he’s in for it.

he stumbles over his words, trying to think of a way he can phrase his words to deescalate the situation, lessen the blow for himself. “i-i’m sorry. i don’t know what i was thinking. please, honey. please forgive me. i’m begging you,”

the last phrase causes you to look up at him before smirking wickedly, “are you?”

you can see it dawn on him, the realization that you really are going to make him beg—the proper way, down on his knees.

he sighs ashamedly before letting his knees buckle, right one hitting the ground, the left following suit.

the slicked back hair on his scalp gleams perfectly underneath the warm overhead lighting the small chandelier provides, and his glossy, devastatingly blue, eyes are boring into yours as his bottom lip begins to quiver ever so slightly.

“i’m so, so, so, fucking, sorry. i’m so stupid, i just didn’t want him to think lowly of my fathers kin. i fucked up, i know, just, please, please, forgive me,”

he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears when he speaks and you can’t help but revel in how hot this all is. having one of the most powerful men in the capitol at your feet, pleading for you, you have to work hard in order to conceal the ache between your legs.

“show me, then.” you turn around on him and walk to the bed, sitting, before crossing your legs and leaning back, dangerous, siren eyes inviting corio to crawl to you.

he doesn’t even hesitate before getting on his hands and knees and desperately pawing at the ground, trying to get close to you again. and when he reaches your sat figure, he grabs your ankles, uncrossing them and pulling your high heels off slowly, all before kissing his way up your calf, and up to your mid-thigh, where the slit in your dress begins. he looks up at you pleadingly, expression reading ‘may i?’ and you could praise him for being so polite if he wasn’t enduring punishment.

you nod slightly, raising your hips just enough so corio could hike your dress up, bunching up at your waist.

his eyes stay on yours, watching you intently as he pulls your delicate, lacy, black and pink, panties down your smooth legs, before gently placing them on the floor next to him.

when you part your legs ever so slightly, the eyes boring into yours spark up with excitement and hope. he finally breaks eye contact when he shuts his eyes and lays his tongue flat against your cunt, lapping up the ego-boosting amount of arousal that’s drooling from your achy hole.

he’s so perfect for you, timing his transitions between fucking into you with his tongue and sucking on your clit just the way he’s learned you like just right, never lingering too long on one part of you.

at this point, you have your legs wrapped around his head tight, nearly restricting his facility to breathe, shamelessly moaning and praising his ministrations. “fuck, yes corio! oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum? yeah? so fucking pathetic,” you spit at him in between borderline moans so pornographic that you’re apprehensive that somebody outside of the four walls you’re in may hear you, but it doesn’t seem to bother you that much, considering the lack of you lowering your own volume.

and the sounds, the sounds are vile, fucking disgusting. his salivated muscle messily dragging all over your labia, his perfectly pouted lips making out with your pussy like he’s in love with it (he is). all of the insanely erotic factors of this moment don’t do anything to hold off your impending release, and with a weak cry of the boy beneath you’s name, sweet syrup leaks out from your tight hole lands onto corio’s anticipating tongue, and you can feel him smile against you at the taste of it.

he drinks it all down in no time and when he continues to lather his tongue all over your clit, not seeming to want to be done, you have to physically pull his head away from you as a result of overstimulation.

he frowns but when he sees the look on your face, your exhausted, satisfied, fucked-out, face, he has to bite his lip to contain his smile.

“i did good?” there’s a special twinkle to his eye, and you find it all-enamoring.

“so good,”

“you forgive me?”

“yes, but next time you pull some shit like that, i’ll jerk you off under the dinner table, you hear me?”

[kisses4kaia]

coriolanus snow, who takes any chance he can get to make you feel like you need him.

struggling to grab a book off the top shelf? he’s got it, no worries. can’t quite put a word to your emotions and thoughts? he’s finishing your sentences for you, as though he knows you better than you ever could. can’t make yourself cum with your dainty little fingers? poor bunny, let him take of you.

it’s a tactic, he slowly invites himself more and more into your life, encroaching enough to the point where you feel you have to look to him for permission before every step you take.

coriolanus knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but want you all to himself. he cannot bear the thought of you gracing another person, let alone another man, with one of your winning smiles, or worse, pleasured moans.

and at the end of the day, it’s not like you’re bothered by it. he takes care of you, and don’t you owe him your life for it? you don’t know it, but if he keeps down this road, you’ll end up locked in a tower like the pretty little princess you are. all of you just for him. <3

[kisses4kaia]

based on this .. hehehehehehehehehe also corio is very joe goldberg in this one. (dedicated to my baby 🤍. @casualhedonists)

coriolanus snow had many a screw loose, and you were not oblivious to that fact.

the thing about power-hungry psychopaths, is they are aware that their greed will never be fulfilled if they reveal their true intentions at the jump. coriolanus snow was dangerously good at playing the game, and he was not used to losing. you had almost let it go over your head, the red-like-blood hued flags, but something inside you had signaled, more like alarmingly blared, that something was very, very wrong with the boy you thought loved you.

and so, on a storming and unbecoming night, you packed up your whole life, leaving behind your people and all that was familiar, and you moved to district 4 and set up residence on the beach. you’d met a man, a gentle, caring, fisherman. no, he could not afford to buy you diamonds, but he could string organic pearls on a chain and that was enough. you ate all the fish your heart could ever desire and you let the sun kiss your once pale skin; which was due to the constant cover of clouds and gloomy mist in the capitol. you were content with your little life, truly, up until you received word your mother was sick and needed her next of kin to help her sort the affairs that would allow her to move peacefully onto the afterlife that awaited her.

the trip was short, but every second of it was spent with a worry for your mother gnawing at your heart, and apprehension to see a certain white-as-snow haired boy. you’d brushed off all thoughts, and figured since the capitol was a big city, the chances of you seeing him were slim—especially considering you’d seen in the newspaper that he was making a name for himself in the political world of panem. he most likely was much to busy to care or even become aware of your returning.

you were wrong. the second you stepped through the gates of panem’s state of the capitol, you felt eyes on you. even after checking over your shoulders and finding nothing but stone architecture on display all over the city, the uneasiness of it all still twisted your gut.

nonetheless, you spent your time in the city of lights and glamour as intended, caring for your mother until she succumbed to a painless, peaceful, death. you saw to the funeral details with a heavy heart, and it was there you felt your heart drop to your toes. the man you’d spent so many years away from, standing in all his haughty glory. his ultramarine, icy, eyes containing nothing but a crazed longing within them. he’d stood across the cemetery in a long, black, fleece, trenchcoat. his hair was no longer a mess of ruddy, gold, curls, but now a styled as a contained, important, slick back—hauntingly, he resembled a ghost, and in a way, he was. a ghost of your past, the scariest one. his eyes glued onto yours as the pastor spoke a few words in honor of your late mother, and you had to swallow your fear for what would follow after the ceremony.

the second the final ‘amen’ left father glenndon’s lips, you turned on your heels, whispering a quiet goodbye to your the soil your mother laid beneath and made a break for it. he was so tall, legs so long and graceful, he caught up with you within a moment. as his cold, ring cluttered, fingers brace the sides of your arms, forcing you to a halt against the tallest stone grave in all of the graveyard, obscuring you from anybody’s view—which only fed your terror—you had to focus on your breathing so as to not let fearful tears slip from your eyes. “get your hands off of me,” your voice was shaky, because you knew just how unpredictable he could be and right now, all that you knew for a fact was that he wasn’t above tearing apart your life right here if you made the single wrong move. he did have the money, influence, and power for it, after all. coriolanus’ voice was sickeningly sweet, gentle, akin to your man back home. “hey, hey, i won’t hurt you, i promise. just wanna talk, that’s it, hm?” his hands move from your shoulders to your face, caressing his thumb against your tear-stained cheek. you shake your head, to deny the request and to get the feeling of his skin off of yours. “no, no. please, coriolanus, let me go home. i have a fiancée, who loves me and-“ your rambling is cut short but a wide-eyed, almost concerned, interjection from him. “he doesn’t love you like i do! i would kill for you, do you understand? he wouldn’t go to any lengths necessary to keep you safe—can’t you see that? i mean, there isn’t a line in the world that i wouldn’t cross for you! i’m not mad, i forgive you for leaving, i know you were just scared, just wish you talked to me, is all. please, dove, come back to the capitol. i haven’t been able to manage since you disappeared. can’t live without you, dove, i won’t,” you wince at the nickname, not having heard it since you left. “i can’t. i have a life in four, snow. i can’t just leave,”

there’s a pained flinch at the use of his last name, having been so used to your sweet, little, pet names you once used just for him. you probably call your fisherman back home those things now, and that thought made his blood boil more than any other. suddenly, almost as if stepping into a role, a character, his eyes deepen, like a bottomless pool of sorrow. “you didn’t seem to think so all those years ago,”

his devastating voice, his despaired, tragically blue, eyes distorted your judgement, and all of a sudden, he wasn’t coriolanus snow anymore. he was corio, your corio.

somehow, in some weird, twisted, round-a-bout way, that’s how you ended up here, writhing on his fingers, his venom-slick sweet nothings spilling into your ears as praises as you come undone on his hands. then on his tongue. and finally, after he’d spent so long giving himself orgasms with only the memory of you spurring him, you’d unraveled on his cock.

and he knew, he had you. he knew, baby came home.

[kisses4kaia]

i’ve been seeing ppl do sej x coryo x reader and all the time i see dom sej, switch coryo, and sub reader and it gave me this idea.

i think it would be interesting to see dom coryo, switch sej, and sub reader. yes ik this is very much ooc BUT IDGAF 😵

the plot could be that coryo and sej find the reader’s diary that she kept hidden in a shoebox. in the diary she’s saying things like “oh i want coryo or sej so bad omg”(obviously not like that LMAO). i feel like you could put romance into this plot too by having them see that she also would write about these cute scenarios abt them both. TEETH ROTTING THINGS EVEN.

i’m not sure if coryo would be more gentle with sej bc in my mind he(coryo) would be the one to actually consider the things in the diary. sej is up for the idea, but he’s nervous abt doing this with coryo bc duh it’s his best friend.

anyways, i hope this is interesting enough to do bc i liked how you wrote sub sej!

(this was long asf i’m so sorry 😭😭 also, this doesn’t have to be a long ass fic! if you think this would be better as a longer fic or shorter fic, GO AHEAD‼️‼️)

YES I LOVE ! plz don’t apologize i loved hearing ur thoughts . oh and i changed some minor things about this but i still hope u enjoy💞

your blood ran cold as corio stood at the foot of the bed, your fuzzy pink diary in hand as sejanus stood next to him, arms crossed and a smug look on his face, as if he was trying to contain laughter. “god, i would die happy if i could sit on coriolanus’ face and have sejanus stuff his cock down my throat,” corio quoted your journal, an devilish, amused, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “such dirty words for such a shy girl. don’t you agree, sejanus?”

he meets the blond boys eyes and nods, in modest agreement. “i don’t know, corio, i’m not all that surprised. i mean, she practically begged to join our group for the project,” he cocked his head slightly as he reasoned, all too casual about the situation.

he hadn’t lied, when professor click assigned a project for groups of three, you immediately got to batting your eyelashes and flattery with the two boys. at first, your intentions were pure, only wanting to ensure a good grade for the assignment, and it made the most sense to try to get with sejanus and coriolanus, for they had the highest marks in the entirety of the class. you had wanted nothing but an ‘a’, until you began noticing how beautiful corio’s eyes were in the sunlight, and how full and plump sej’s lips were when he pushed a pencil through them in concentration, and you hadn’t even realized you’d begun spiraling. you entrusted your diary with all the details of your infatuation for the boys, and as you wrote on late, dark nights, you’d never expected to have the subjects of your logs read it. you were utterly mortified, and your paled expression did not conceal it well. “oh, come on now, darling. don’t be ashamed, we aren’t judging you,” coriolanus cooed at your rigid posture at the head of the bed.

today was supposed to be the last day. the last day you were working on the project, and you’d let them into your empty home, into your bedroom, and onto your bed. you had let them linger in your room while you grabbed your school bag from the living room, facilitating them just the right amount of time to snoop if they so pleased, and you should have known that they did. in their defense, how could sejanus even be blamed for reaching for the blush book sitting in such plain sight on your nightstand? how could coriolanus be at fault for reading more when the first page had ‘corio ♡’ and ‘sej ♡’ written about 30 times all over the lined paper? when you’d returned, completely oblivious to their snooping, corio had hidden it behind his back and obscured it from your view. it was only when you turned to grab a pen off of your nightstand, the nightstand in which you retired your diary to every night, that you noticed the pink rectangle missing. slowly, you turned to face the boys who were standing, your innermost thoughts and secrets in corio’s hands. “i-it’s not what it looks like, i promise. i just…” you’re stumbling over your words nervously and you can feel sweat forming on your brow.

corio just laughs before sejanus takes the book from him, thumbing to another page. “all i want is for sej to hold me in his strong arms while corio eats me out. i need him to call me a good girl, i need it, i need it, i need it,” as he reads, his voice is monotonous, but his face reads touched, pleased. he looks over to corio, and upon viewing the expression on his face, knowing exactly which gears are turning in that head of his, he shakes his head. “i don’t know, corio. is that really a good idea?” sej is hesitant, but the blond boy just keeps staring at you with hungry eyes, the brunette boys apprehension not deterring him from his goal one bit. “sejanus, she obviously wants it if she wrote a whole fucking novel on how bad she needs to get her holes filled by me and you,” he reasons, speaking as though you are not in the room, which sent shivers rampant all over your skin. “but together?” sejanus squeaks and corio’s expression of amusement shifts from you to him. “what, you don’t want to? because i’ll be here? c’mon, sejanus, let’s not pretend i can’t see you’re hard at the mere idea of seeing me cum inside of her,” sejanus just rolls his eyes and redirects his attention back to you. “you want this?” he’s walking slowly, closer and closer to you, you who’s sat pretty at the head of the queen-sized bed, like an unsuspecting doe while the wolves prey on you hungrily. coriolanus walks around the other side, and your senses are on fire, watching your two classmates stalk towards you with primal lust swirling in their deep eyes.

you can only nod weakly, afraid that if you were to make a sound, your own voice would betray you. “words, sweetheart,” corio says in a singsong voice, his hand reaching out to your chin, jerking it to force your eyes to meet his. “please,” you squeak, lower lip almost quivering. the blond boy pouts at you, before using his free hand to fall between your thighs, flipping your skirt up before petting your cunt over your embarrassingly damp panties. corio’s digits move skillfully as the pads of his fingers press through the fabric and onto your clit, pulling desperate whimpers out of you. you haven’t forgotten about sejanus in the slightest, hyper aware of his looming presence, but you were much too afraid to break eye contact with corio, so you simply whisper faintly under your breath “sejanus,”

corio lets up on his grip of your jaw and allows your eyes to land on sejanus, who’s palming his bulge through his trousers. his eyes read your needy ones before grabbing your hand and replacing his own. you gasp at the how large he feels even through the layers of fabric, and have to bite your lip to the point of breaking skin so as to contain a moan. corio’s ministrations feel good, so good, but it’s not enough. “more, please. need you, need you both” your eyes begin pricking with tears as you look back at the snow boy, face rendering as a plead as your hips buck weakly into his hand. “i know, baby, i know,” corio leans down and for the first time, presses a kiss to your lips, before pulling your panties to the side and sliding his middle digit into you with ease. you moan against the sweet lips on yours, and turn to face sejanus, eyes begging for permission as you toy with the button on his trousers. “go ahead, pretty,” sejanus breathes out, pleasure building up within him. as well as you can manage while under the influence of gratification corio is invoking upon you, you undo the button and the zipper of sejanus’ pants and pull them down along with his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. you were mesmerized at first glance, he was beautiful; girthy, but still quite lengthy. prominent veins ran up and down him and his tip was a dark shade of vermillion, weeping with pre. you swear you thought drool was coming out of your mouth, because sejanus just smiles knowingly, guiding your hand back onto his cock.

at the same time, corio adds another finger to your tight cunt. his other hand comes in to use the pad of his thumb to draw calculated, deliciously meticulous, circles on your sensitive bud. you can tell sejanus is close from the way his eyes flutter shut as pleasure overtakes him, from how you can feel him twitch in your hand, and you know your release is coming soon, too. and when it does, pleasure courses through your veins, you had never felt anything like the orgasm corio talked you through. “fuck, yeah baby. cum all on my fingers, hm? poor, pretty, baby. so wound up f’me,”

not long after, you feel sejanus’ seed spill onto your hand, a string of explicits falling smoothly from his plump lips, along with moans of your name and praises for how good you make him feel. when his eyes reopen, you suddenly feel bolder than you did 20 minutes ago, and stare him down like he’s the prey, while licking his sperm off of your pretty, delicate, manicured, fingers. sejanus thinks—no, he knows—that could’ve made him cum again on the spot if corio hadn’t interjected, his tone a starved and vicious growl.

“on your knees, now.”

[kisses4kaia]

if i can send a req—i just read your sub!coryo nsfw alphabet (wow, the way you capture him)… i’d love to know your thoughts on dom!coryo and what he’s into! 🤭

i love your fics sm!! <3

ugh ur kindness is so touching ! i can absolutely do some hcs fs!! <33 mdni nsfw, degrading language, etc etc. 18+.

dom!corio, who’s all about casual dominance. just little things, like tapping your ass to get you to move to the next room at museum dates, and massaging your hip absentmindedly as you prance about the mall he’s offered to pay for your spree at.

people hate when i say this, but dom!corio is a little bit of a selfish lover. it’s not his fault, really—how could he not be when you’re so eager to please him? of course, this is not to say he never pleases you, but it doesn’t happen because of the kindness in his heart. after all, weren’t you just a stupid doll existing only for his pleasure? he’d be damned if it were the other way around.

ive gotten the question before on whether or not i think he’s typically meaner or softer and i truly believe it’s dependent on how his day’s been. it doesn’t even matter if you’ve been the most obedient the sweetest and you could be, he’ll always need to blow off some steam after a particularly hard day at work in the university or even as a peacekeeper. but, if he’s had a drink or two and is feeling particularly pleasant, he’ll be a little more merciful, fucking you sort of slow and sweet and false lovingly. he knows you want it worse, though.

building on the whole casual dominance thing, he will wordlessly look at you from across a room, and you’ll just know that it’s time to leave or take a little… break in another room.

im also quite fond of imagining him as a bit of a tid-for-tad kind of man. like, if you give him a really good blowjob, the next day he’ll take you out on a shopping spree, and when you ask what the occasion might be, he claims it to be “for no reason,” but you both know the true answer.

ok that’s all folks i love you all happy valentines 💌

[kisses4kaia]

more sub coryo plss 🙏🙏

a/n : oh my god you guys are eating this concept up !! (me too)

fucked my way up to the top .ᐟ

as dr. gauls daughter, when academy!corio sees you, he sees power and an opportunity to win it all.

it’s a shame that you don’t seem to agree.

you aren’t stupid, you can see the way he breathes in your every move and retains every word you speak and laughs at every joke you make at one of your mother’s hilarious high-society parties. and to someone less, to put it bluntly, bored, this would be seen as bothersome and annoying. but, with the lack of entertainment in the capitol as of late, you can’t help but play stupid.

batting your eyelashes at him when he’s explaining (more like mansplaining) a topic you have been very well educated on since you were young, and letting him tease you for asking obvious questions, and intentionally having him ‘catch’ you dumbly staring at him and his lips. he’s so oblivious you find it adorable.

and when it works, it works well. in fact, it works so well that when you’re tugging on his curls and his hands are all over you, lips interlocked, he lets you slide your tongue into his mouth, giving you the upper hand. because, he’s finally gotten lucky. no way you would try to dominate him in bed, you’re too sweet for that, right?

so he lets you push him on his back, lets you mark him on his sensitive neck, because, in his mind, he’s still in control! you would never… make him beg, would you? you would never be so mean.

oh, he is in for a rude awakening, because when you are bouncing on his cock, cunt squeezing him like a vice, corio is whispering in between grunts and moans, “fuck, i’m gonna cum, so close baby,” and you have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from laughing.

“no.” you say meanly, a slight growl to your tone, and coriolanus is scared shitless. “what?”

“i said, no. do not fucking cum, you hear me?” his eyebrows are furrowed as he tries to think, but he can’t because your pussy still hasn’t relented on her delicious pulsing on his aching dick.

and he’s so desperate that he hardly even waits 5 seconds before he mindlessly, brainlessly, begs. “please - fuck - please. i need to c-cum - ngh - so bad, please let me cum, i’ll do anything, just - shit - please,”

your grin is haunting, and coriolanus can’t even be bothered to care, or to try and protest your dominance when you finally take pity on the boy and grant him his only wish, “go ahead, angel. fill me up, yeah?”

he could cry with gratitude in that moment, finally letting the taut knot in his stomach snap, shuddering borderline painfully when he paints your insides white. “thank you, thank you, thank you,” he doesn’t even think before grabbing your wrist and kissing it, then trailing wet, messy, grateful, kisses up your arm, all the way up to your shoulder before you press your lips to his pouted ones.

the kiss is agonizingly sweet, and you swear you can taste remnants of salty tears in it.

“i’ll put in a good word for you with gaul.”

[kisses4kaia]

SUB CORIOLANUS SUPREMACY (oh he would def pretend to hate it/be a brat)

!!! so here for this uprising. - unproofread 💤 dom!fem!reader , brat!sub!corio ,, etc ..

coriolanus snow is not your bitch.

even though you have him on his knees every night, with tears streaking the skin of his perfectly constructed face, the softest of pleas escaping his kiss-swollen lips, thirsting for even the slightest taste of you, or more of the pleasure only you can invoke upon him, coriolanus snow is not your bitch.

and he makes sure you know that, by spitting at you when you have him tied up, going on and on about how you will never make him submit, and how he will never cave - which, is humorous to you, because he already has - absolutely abhorring that stupid, condescending, boner-inducing, tone you use with him when you don’t relent to stop making him cum, because he just will not behave.

“oh, my pretty, pretty angel. when will you learn to have respect for those in control of you? you don’t wanna be good for me, is that it? i’ll let you in on a little secret, that isn’t gonna be fun for anybody but me.” you whisper the last bit straight into his ear and he wants to cry because of how hard that has made his cock, and how angry he is because of the fact.

snow lands on top, and he refuses to accept that in this case no, no he does not. actually, as a matter of fact, he doesn’t even want to be on top.

oh he will never admit it, but coriolanus snow is your bitch.

[kisses4kaia]

if there’s one thing ima do,, it’s make an objectively dominant character submissive🤞

he won’t say it.

he keeps telling himself he won’t say it.

but god, you make it so hard. the way you can so heartlessly get him so fucking close to his release, then take it all away, just to do it all over again. it’s a cruelty not even he would inflict upon somebody else.

coriolanus is sprawled out on the bed, eyes rolling dangerously far back into his head each time he stupidly thinks you’re going to let him come, and he powerless to stop your torture because his hands are tied onto the headboard with a pair of your very own sheer, black tights.

“just say ‘please’, coryo. use your manners and say ‘please’, and this all stops. don’t you want to feel good, honey?” you condescendingly coo at him.

he will won’t say it.

[kisses4kaia]

One fic in and I already love the way you write Billy!! Could I please request reader surprising him with a massage after a long day, just thanking him for all he does for her? I'm a hoe for praise so just total body worshipping vibes lol

aww ur too kind !! i hope i did him justice lolol😚 no smut in this one! just pure fluffy cuteness🧘‍♀️.

as the noisy front door on you and billy’s temporary homestead creaks open and promptly slams back shut, you hear a disheveled grunt come from the main room.

you put your book down to check on your cowboy. “oh, honey. something wrong? what’s on your mind?” you hold his weary face press a comforting kiss to the corner of his bitten lips, already easing the mind of the outlaw.

“just—just had a rough day, nothing to concern ‘bout. go rest, baby. i’ll see you at dinner, hm?” his words try to deter you, but his jaded voice gives him away, and you frown at the feigned composure.

“nonsense. here, go sit on the couch, i’ll get you a cup of tea,” he tried to protest but you put a single finger up, not willing to hear it. “william h. bonney, you will sit down on that sofa or believe me, you will be in for it, you understand?” you raise your eyebrows now, expression rendering seriousness. “alright, alright. jesus, woman,”

as he makes his way through the living room and plops down onto the soft cushions, you brew the aromatic chamomile tea in the kitchen, giving it to him just the way he likes—straight, no milk or sugar.

you creep up behind him, placing the china teacup into his worn hands, your own softer ones finding his shoulders.

as you begin kneading the tense muscles, a satisfied groan leaves billy and you giggle. “oh, my brave man. you work so hard, so damn tense,” you sigh airily, dreamily to billy.

he merely hums in agreement, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure derived from your careful hands that massaged the knots of tension out of the man. “how did i get so lucky with you?” his voice is low and he sounded as if he was confusing his thoughts with his speech, you almost didn’t catch it.

you just simper. “hmm, the real question is how did i get so lucky with you? so chivalrous and strong, my knight in shining armor. i don’t say it enough, but thank you, billy. for being my man and just being you; i love you,”

billy swears he’s dreaming. really, how could a wrongful, scarred, man like himself be so blessed to have a sweet, little, thing, like you to come home to every night? it was beyond him—and right now, he couldn’t be happier with his chances.

you loved him like this, vulnerable and unwound, relaxed and zen; even if only for just a few moments. moments of solitude with your lover that you can only find in the destitute of billy’s heart, they last and they burn into the soul of you.

soon, when all that remains in the delicate porcelain cup is scarcely splattered tea leaves, and billy of fighting sleep, you remove your hands from his upper back and walk around the sofa to face him.

you sit yourself down and lay yourself next to him. he pulls you close, your ear pressing against his chest, hearing his heart beat in time with yours—another testament to your serendipitous devotion to one another—you feel a kiss press to your temple, and billy softly grumbles something into your ear before succumbing to siesta.

“never leave me, please. i wouldn’t be able to go on, then.”