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#Waiting for my carriage
mafiasliege · 3 months
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Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I announce to you, after a decade, jude still steals Cardan's clothes and even wears them in front of the kingdom.
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the-gay-prometheus · 1 year
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Tears of the Kingdom spoilers? Barely. But putting it under a cut anyways just in case. Have a meme
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This is the one and only 'spoiler' I've seen and it's also the most important one actually
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armchairaleck · 7 months
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Alright, I am going totally out into the wilderness, away from anything the Dragon Prince fandom wants to read, to write some totally self-indulgent Viren/Corvus post s5 enemies to lovers.. ticking all my boxes but no one else's.. it’s pretty much consuming all my writing hours because I know it will be blown to smithereens by season 6… and I don't have much to say about it here because I also know it's utterly ridiculous.
ANYWAY sometimes I need a break from two guys discussing the nature of fate and existence around a camp fire (yep, fun times when I go all in on the indulgence..) so I’ve also started to write bits of King Atticus is an utter bastard AU (haven’t really thought of a proper name for this yet…)
Here’s a snippet cut below. I don’t even know if it will make it into the main plot, it's really just a little study of Atticus and Kpp'Ar plotting somewhat dubious stuff for Duren...
“Mmm” Atticus lifted the goblet of red wine to his lips and smiled. “Here’s to new ventures.”
Kpp’Ar did not drink straight away, he swirled the wine a little and let its scent settle in his nose first. The wine would undoubtedly be some of the best the five kingdoms had produced. He might as well savour it.
The first sip didn’t disappoint, rich and heavy on the tongue, mountain wine, grown in the foothills of Del Bar, he could almost taste the sweetness of the first winter frost that they’d allowed to settle on the grapes before harvesting. An excellent vintage, he let it roll slowly around his tongue and watched the king.
Atticus sat regarding him, eyes narrowed. It was often the king’s policy to sit until a silence grew so uncomfortable that it was impossible not to break it, and Kpp’Ar decided to oblige him before it reached that point.
“You seem to have already decided on the mage you want as my successor.”
Atticus leant back in his chair and rotated his goblet slowly between his fingers so that the candlelight glinted off the gold.
“Well, he has certain admirable qualities the others don’t possess. Very dedicated to the kingdom, and my son Harrow seems fond of him, they’re fond of each other, no? You can’t pay gold for that sort of loyalty.” He laughed, and Kpp’Ar felt his usual slight revulsion at the cold, metallic ring of it. “You’ll have time to indulge your other pastimes, research, those puzzles that you like. You can let someone younger do the more mundane magic and worry about politics.”
Kpp’Ar shrugged, it wouldn’t do to let the king see his true emotions, he was like a snake that way, he would swallow them now and digest them slowly later, add it to the list of all the other information he kept locked away inside his head.
This latest move, his retirement, was simply the king rearranging his chess pieces on a board. Kpp’Ar knew he had outstayed his usefulness, there was no point in arguing his case.
“It would be nice to have the time to explore other avenues certainly.” He smiled back at the king.
“Precisely, council meetings were never really your scene, and Viren has a strong sense of… justice.”
“Indeed.”
Kpp’Ar gazed down at his glass, he didn’t particularly want to look at the king, to see the knowing look on his face, the unspoken things that lay beneath his words. There were many things he found it prudent to keep to himself, but he could never be completely certain that Atticus hadn’t already sniffed them out somehow.
“You’ve invested a lot of time in Viren, it must make you proud to see how far he’s come.”
Kpp’Ar took another sip of the wine. There it was, the little flash of the blade. The way Atticus would hold it in his hand and let you see for just a moment before striking.
“Of course.” He let his finger trace the patterns etched around the goblet, finest Neolandian gold of course, and he feigned absolute indifference. Even if Atticus had an inkling of just what Viren meant to him, of the odd complexities that their relationship contained, he was not about to expose that in front of him. “I suppose I’ve grown… fond of the boy.” He wasn’t a boy now of course, he was a man grown and yet sometimes there were moments when Kpp’Ar could still see the burning drive of Viren’s younger self, awkward and eager and full of passionate intensity.
“Yes, you always seemed unusually invested in that one.” Atticus gave him a slow smile, like a wolf it was, all barred teeth. “Don’t worry, he’ll do well, achieve far more than most men of his station. Do you know, I’m even considering giving him a title? Lord Viren, I expect that would sit well with him. You were never much moved by titles were you Kpp’Ar? But then, you came from money, what does a little word mean then?”
Atticus knocked his signet ring against the rim of the goblet in his hand and the sound reverberated in the silence.
“For what would you give him a title?” Kpp’Ar kept his voice merely curious but he knew there would be a cost involved commensurate with the reward. Common boys like Viren did not simply become lords in Katolis.
“For services… rendered. I mean, that’s the usual reason for giving out titles, no?”
Kpp’Ar stilled his features and took another sip of the wine. There were very few angles to playing Atticus, once he had made up his mind about something there was very little dissuading him. Kpp’Ar knew he himself was an aberration, tolerated only for his unmatched skills in dark magic. Of everyone at the court he alone said no to Atticus, everyone else bent the knee, and so here he was, nothing but a piece in a game that could be quietly removed now. There was a new piece to take his place, one that he himself had trained and honed to perfection to suit the king’s needs. In a way he’d always been playing Atticus’s hand, had moved his own pieces exactly where the king had wanted them.
“What service will you be asking of him? It would be better for me to know, in case I need to advise him.”
Atticus placed the goblet back on the table.
“Yes, of course, you might be right. The ambassador from Duren… she’s been getting a little… insistent lately, harvest failures, a blight that’s been spreading year by year. Of course Duren don’t keep a high mage, strictly speaking there are no mages at all in Duren, they see themselves as… above that sort of thing. Enlightened, talk is Del Bar are thinking of curbs at least. Imagine that, soon all the kingdoms might start considering dark magic unacceptable, you know how they love to frown on anything they don’t understand.”
“I’ve heard some rumours.”
Kpp’Ar did not keep in particularly close contact with any dark mages other than those he has trained himself, and yet this news had already travelled to him from a disgruntled trader in Del Bar. It’s true that Duren by advantage of their geographical location have not had to resort to dark magic in quite the same way the other kingdoms have. Most practitioners there are simple healers who keep to the shadows and are recommended only by word of mouth. There are no great mages, no one of the calibre that Kpp’Ar would consider worthy of the title.
“Quite, and yet now that their harvests can’t feed the population, to whom do they turn?”
“To you I suppose.”
“To me.” Atticus’s voice cut like cold steel. “Suddenly their moral high ground is not so lofty after all, suddenly our aid is acceptable. I intend to let them see what a few more years of blight does. Let them come to the pentarchy when their backs are really against the wall. Then we can negotiate.”
Kpp’Ar nodded, Atticus had always been politically ruthless, it had left Katolis almost as powerful as the other four kingdoms put together. The Katolian army is a well-oiled machine, it greatly exceeded the needs of a few border skirmishes that erupted from time to time with Xadia. He ruled with an iron fist, and yet he was one of those rare leaders who can also put on a show of relating to the common man. Kpp’Ar had always been impressed watching him in action, from the humblest peasant to the richest lord he ingratiated himself effortlessly, like some street hawker peddling false cures.
He himself had always struggled to bond with anyone, he had very few friends, and yet for some reason over the years he has known him Viren alone had become something else to him. Something he chose never to quite quantify with words because it was fraught with hidden danger. They have blurred the edges of their relationship in so many different ways now and it was increasingly apparent that these feelings he had have allowed him to be played. He can see no way for Viren to avoid the web that Atticus has spun.
“So you want Viren to put her off?”
“No. I want new ambassador, someone a little more amenable, or better still, no ambassador from Duren. She simply has to meet with an accident, it would be unfortunate, but… well these things happen.” Atticus spread his hands and shrugged.
“What will you tell Viren?”
“Just that, nothing more, he’s a bright enough lad, ambitious, he’ll figure it out.”
“I don’t think you know him that well, he won’t kill someone, not even for a title.”
“Well, the title is only an incentive, a man like Viren has plenty to lose though doesn’t he? That beautiful wife, the son he seems so fond of, a baby daughter too.”
There is a dark look on Atticus’s face now and it is that moment that Kpp’Ar can see how easily he’d been played, how utterly out manoeuvred he had been, and that he is now expendable, he too could meet with an accident if the king willed it. He took another sip of his wine, swallowed it impassively as his mind worked around the problem.
Atticus thought that he knew him, thought he knew every person and all their weaknesses, but he isn’t infallible, he’d always been greedy for magic, for the power that it gave him but also for the knowledge of it too.
“I have a solution that might work, something I’ve been wanting to test for you actually, something I believe you’ll like.”
“Oh yes?” Atticus looked at him, face impassive, but he can see the glint of hunger in his eyes. Kpp’Ar knows something about human weakness too.
“Old magic, elven, I picked them up in Xadia, I had to pay a considerable price.”
Kpp’Ar reached into his cloak and dropped a soft fabric bag on the table, Atticus reached for it, undid the string. He is a man who had always been inordinately interested in dark magic and all its trappings. A small pile of coins dropped onto the table and the king stacked them, one on top of the other, before picking up the top one and spinning it slowly between his fingers.
“What are these?”
“Prisons, very old I believe, they trap the soul, hold it in an different plane. Far more elegant than murder.”
"Hold it how?"
"Trap the soul, transmigrate the body. No trace."
“Alright, so the ambassador is gone, we say she’s been taken by Moonshadow elves. Create a little division with Xadia. Duren could send a hundred spies to scour our kingdom and they won’t find a trace?"
"Correct."
Unlikely another ambassador will be keen to come after that.”
“I'm sure you have ways of getting your wish, Sire.”
Atticus flipped the coin and caught it easily, regarded his own reflection in the polished gold.
“Heavier than a normal coin.”
“Yes.”
“What magic?”
“Star they told me when I bought it, but that’s only because it increases the price considerably. I should say moon, perhaps some corruption of the moon primal. Hard to be sure without more research.”
“Interesting. Fine that plan is acceptable, can you reverse it?”
“Theoretically, I haven’t quite worked that part out yet, there are very few records of this sort of thing. Perhaps if Viren and I could use the castle library I might find something there.”
“As you wish.”
The king placed the coin back in the sack, pushed the others back in carefully and tied the string.
“I think perhaps I’ll let Viren have a few more months under you, so he can get used to the new role, he can attend the council meetings, but I’ll still consult you on the magical side of things. How does that sound?”
“Very good your majesty.”
Kpp’Ar bowed his head so Atticus couldn’t see his expression.
“Oh, and Kpp’Ar, send Viren to me later will you? There are a few things I wish to discuss with him.”
———
What are the complexities of Kpp’Ar and Viren’s relationship?
Viren and Kpp’Ar are carrying on a clandestine affair behind Lissa’s back… I mean maybe.. when I get into the planning of this AU Viren has a lot of affairs, clandestine and otherwise..
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hrhmiat · 2 months
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"Have you ever been in one of these?" he asked. But Michael looked so sweet standing there with his hand out all expectantly, and his eyes so kind, like, come on. It's just a cheesy carriage ride. What could happen? And it turned out I was wrong. The bench was not that big.
And I'm not that jaded of a New Yorker. Michael and I were sitting calmly beside each other on that bench, Not Kissing, and the next... we were in each other's arms. Kissing. Like two people who had never kissed before. Or, rather like two people who used to kiss a lot, and really liked it, and then had been deprived of kissing each other for a very long time. And then, suddenly, they were reintroduced to kissing and remembered they liked it. Quite a bit. YES. WE KISSED FOR TWENTY BLOCKS. IN BROAD DAYLIGHT. IN AN OLD-TIMEY HORSE CARRIAGE!
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branw3lls · 2 years
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obsessed with “CF angry.” 
lol gabriel 
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i know i don’t normally share personal stuff on here but i just got given an offer for my dream job and i am FLOATING
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talasdoodles · 1 year
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Only since meeting you have I rediscovered how simple it is to be happy
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venterry · 2 years
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decided to close my eyes again for a little extra sleep and had the most distressing dream about my pc and all my accounts getting hacked by an anime addict
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closeted-goth · 9 months
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james takes charge of carriage D moment.
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polyamorouspunk · 1 year
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Sneeks up behind you and puts a paper heart in your pocket
The most romantic (or platonic!) shit ever
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straykats · 2 years
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i had a dream and i woke up at 5am and was like wow i cant wait to post about this on tumblr but i went back to sleep and now i dont remember
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suchaspookyginger · 9 months
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my husband and i technically have three cars and not a single one works properly what the fuck
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starsandwriting · 1 year
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Just remembered that upper middle class people who speak fluent english are THE most irritating group of people you'll ever have the displeasure of interactingwith
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allfearstofallto · 2 months
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Okay okay last one, I swear!! I just have so many ideas! But three more for the yandere historical au and I'm finished, pinky promise!!
[Part 1] [Part 2]
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Master Duelist! Xiao who has never lost a fight. Always challenged, but never the one to initiate, he was one of the reasons your family has such high honor. Even though many lords of higher status have offered to buy him for a pretty penny, he stays loyal to your family. Specifically to you. His opponents who see you in the crowd during their duel, know to just give up, he fights harder when you're watching. Every favor, embroidered handkerchiefs, that you'd given him, hang like trophies in his room. But upon learning that you're to be wed soon, he stands and challenges your fiance to a duel for your hand, one that he knows he'll win.
Butler! Thoma who has been in your family for years. Taken in by your parents and raised to be your right hand, the two of you grew up to be close friends, rather than typical master and servant. Despite this, he still finds ways to scold you, while also telling you how much of a gracious lady you've grown into. Maybe your closeness with him is why you decide to tell him of a rendezvous you're planning to have with a commoner boy that you've grown to like. Only, suddenly your home is more guarded than usual and your parents seem even more strict with you than before, almost like they know something you never told them.
Former King! Zhongli who steps down from his post shortly after his son becomes of age. While he no longer has his title, he's still heavily respected and praised by all. He saw you at a ball and formally invited you to the royal palalce. Your family excitedly rushes you into a carriage, thinking the invite is for meeting with the newly crowned King instead. Only, when you get there, Zhongli is truly the only one waiting for you. He sits you down next to him and compliments you almost incessantly, ending the conversation by asking you if you think he's too old to be considering a second marriage.
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Forgive me if these are bad!! This is my first time writing for any of these characters and I wanted to try!!
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year
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Carriage Rides
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Pairings- King George iii x reader
Summary - no plot just smut
Warnings- unprotected sex in a carriage. (18+)
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“Your majesty” Reynolds' voice outside the carriage door brought you both back to reality. Just outside those doors were your subjects , waiting patiently for their king and queen.
“Do not open that door Reynolds” George ordered, his hips continuing to thrust up against yours. Your own hips rolling against his, chasing your end.
“Is everything alright your majesty?” Reynolds' voice interrupts you once again, George’s hands grip tightly around the bunched up material of your dress.
His brows furrowed together in anger, he was so close. If people stop interrupting the two of you, you would be finished. On the way to the meeting but apparently no one had patience these days.
“Splendid Reynolds, now you keep that door closed or so help me I will have you beheaded” George quips, his attention moves back to yours.
His hand grips your jaw and pulls you down to his lips. Your hips begin their movement once more, your dress was in the way. Stopping you both from being as close to one another as possible, you hated it.
“Oh! George” you cried into his mouth, the corner of his lips turning up into a grin. He loved the sounds you made, he loved the way your voice would get raspier with each thrust of the hip.
“That’s it sweet y/n… doing so good” he whispered, you could feel the carriage move from under you. Your bodies causing the carriage to sway slightly, the sounds of the footmen chatting outside brought you out of your haze once more.
“Hey hey… don’t mind them y/n… look at me, feel me”
You nodded your head, placing your hands on his shoulder. His own hands groped at your breast, he so desperately wanted them out of the stupid dress you had been put into, but there wasn’t enough time to get you both undressed.
“Get off” he orders, moving you away from him. It’s not easy to move around the small space of the carriage but he is able to push your body against the window, your knees pressed against the cushion of the seat.
His body meets yours once again and he pushes inside of you, you bite down on the red curtain.
“You needn’t hide those sweet sounds my Queen… let them hear”.
You do as he says and let the material fall from your mouth, instead gripping it with your hands as his hips meet yours.
Moans and groans fill the carriage, traveling outside to where Reynolds and Brimsley stand guard at the door. Their eyes meet for a moment and they share a knowing look, they begin to order the crowd to move along. Telling them their king and queen will be a few moments longer.
“Oh George!”
“your doing such a good job my love”
Your walls begin to flutter around him, squeezing him deeper and deeper in. Your toes curl within the diamond encrusted shoes that hold your feet captive.
“Do not stop” you chant, you're so close to your release. You want nothing more than to cum around him.
“I’m going to bury my seed so deep into you… we are going to have many babies my love”
“Christ!”
Suddenly it happens, your release. White hot, blinding pleasure overwhelms your senses, your vision begins to blur and a moan escapes you. You tremble against the seat of the carriage, mind blank and fuzzy.
“That’s it my love… milk me dry”
Just as your pleasure begins to fade you feel his seed shoot deep inside of you a new warmth within you. George’s hips stutter against your bottom, a soft groan escapes his lips.
“We must make haste” you state, his cock falls out of you. Fixing your multi layer dress until you looked what you deemed perfect.. “Do I-”
“You look beautiful my love”.
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
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i need more about the wedding or the wedding press tour.
or smut on the train.
all of it. anything.
snow bride |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: based off the wedding night on the train before the press tour.
contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub dynamics implied. oral fem receiving. pinvsex.
“Wait!” Corio called, hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. Your champagne soaked squeals had him grinning, hand slipping around the white material of your dress. 
“Corio,” You laughed, turning in his arms. “What are you doing?” Your eyes shone, love drunk and glassy with adoration, the high of the wedding, the reception still fresh. Your family, friends, other elitist members had waved you goodbye, with tight smiles and slithering hopes of joy for the newlyweds. 
“It’s tradition, my love.” Corio smiled. Alone, he was more generous with his affection. His hands moved, bending at the knees to hoist you, one arm under your knees, the other on your back, cradling you to his chest. 
You laughed, head tipping back, dizzy off the champagne that seemed to endlessly flow, drunk off the way Coriolanus held you while you danced. He moved into the threshold of the train’s carriage, the wafting scent of roses. Tigris and your other bridesmaids had taken the liberty of decorating the honeymoon carriage. Dozens of white roses, just like the ones from the ceremony, lined the carriage’s space. Dripping wax candles in their holders for a more romantic ambiance. A bottle of champagne and a signed card of well wishes on the plush bed, where Coriolanus set you down. 
You lay there, sprawled, the frill and pearls of your dress around you, veil fanning around your head like a halo. Coriolanus grinned over you, blonde curls fallen from his coiffed hair from the night. 
“How will this do? Hm, for the next two weeks?” Coriolanus reached his hand up, now bearing his own wedding ring, complimentary to your own. “Up to the Prima Donna’s standards?” 
The nickname you despised had you rolling your eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly. “It’s wonderful.” You hummed, blinking up at him. “Much nicer than what I expected.” 
“You didn’t think I’d put you in something like the tributes used to come on, did you?” Corio grinned, stroking your cheek bone affectionately. “Your father would have a noose around my neck before we ever made it to the train station.” 
“No,” You giggled, shaking your head, your hand falling gently on top of his. Rings rubbing, metal on metal. “I just… It’s nice. Feels like home.” Your now shared home with Coriolanus, you meant. A wedding present after the engagement from your father, before you moved into the Capitol’s Presidential Mansion. Always with fresh cut roses, burning candles, and soft fabrics that relaxed Corio. Made it entirely your own. 
“We’ll be back in no time, my darling.” Corio whispered, the pad of his thumb brushing over the soft rouge of your cheeks. “It will be a nice break. Nice to see all of Panem. You can see my work throughout the Districts.” 
“I can’t wait.” You hummed, lips pressing gently into the pad of his thumb. Coriolanus’ cock lurched, a jolt of excitement even at the simple tenderness of your touch. 
You watched his eyes darken, that primal need fell over him easily, lips curling in a sinister smile. His hands slithered up your arms, circling your wrist gently before he pounced, slotting his body over yours, lips pressed to yours. You loved when Coriolanus was passionate rather than powerful. When he’d kiss you like you were his lifeline, like the very thought of his lips not on yours would have him breaking apart. When he took time to explore every inch of your mouth, swallowing your breathy, needy whines, his tongue pushing past your teeth. 
You could feel his erection even through the layers of your dress, pushing into you, hips rolling and rubbing into your own. His hands anchored your wrists down, squeezing them tightly before releasing them, tangling in your hair and veil instead. 
“Corio,” You whined, the tug of your veil still pinned into your hair. “I- Let me take it off.” 
He didn’t seem to hear, or ignored you if he did. His lips trailing up and down the side of your jaw, pushing into the nape of your neck to inhale your scent, the perfume oil you dabbed yourself with before walking down the aisle- it drove Corionalus mad the entire ceremony. His hands tugged at the veil again just to hear you whine, covering his smirk by sucking a bruise into your skin. 
“Corio, please.” Your voice lilted, breathy with desperate pleasure. “Help me take it off.” 
His lips were swollen, blossoming red and plump, his tongue running over the bottom lip. Despite the glint in his eye, he pulled back, offering you a hand. The carriage was beginning to rumble, you could hear the whistles and shouts of the crowd bidding goodbye outside over the crack of fireworks illuminating the Capitol. 
Coriolanus pulled you up gently, a hand on your hip to steady you as the train started to glide. His hands squeezing the fat of your hips through the dress, gliding down your thighs, your claves to shove the fabric back up. 
“No,” You clicked, a huff of annoyance. “You have to undo the buttons.” 
“Oh.” Corio mocked, eyes cutting to yours in warning. “My apologies, Prima Donna. How dare I not know.” 
You huffed, brows furrowing into a sulking frown. “That’s not a very nice way to treat your wife on our wedding night.” You held the bedpost, his fingers trailing up your legs, squeezing over the fat of your ass- playfully or a warning, you weren’t sure. 
“You should be nice to me, Corio.” You turn, batting your eyes at him from over your shoulder. 
He lifted a brow- amused. Fingers hooking the buttons from their fastens, calloused hands ghosting down your spine, leaving you shivering. “I think I’m very nice to you.” Coriolanus declared. 
“You’re teasing me.” You frown, lip jutting partly for show- partly because you knew how much he loved it. 
“I haven’t even begun to tease you, my love.” Coriolanus’ tone dropped to a dark, husky octave that had you shivering, nails digging into the post of the bed. 
 “Corio,” You whimpered, breath caught in your throat. “Don’t be cruel. Be nice to me tonight. It’s our wedding night. No teasing.” 
Corio hummed, loud and dramatic, like he was truly thinking it over. Maybe he was. Maybe he was contemplating being so cruel and teasing you, a punishment for you daring to step out of line- so he could regain control. Or maybe he’d do the opposite, be so doting and ravenous of you, give you the attention you were requesting so you’d become desperate for it even more. Keep you in your place that way, desperate and ruined, only for him. 
Coriolanus pulled the fabric off your shoulders, with a tenderness that made your knees weak, delicately removing the dress from you until you were left bare. Standing before him in your wedding lingerie, a garter on your thigh that bore the same initials stitched as his handkerchief. It was a tradition from the old world, something people had forgotten about or let die out with so many other traditions, but you kept. It was sweet, to you, carrying a piece of him intimately to reveal later. 
Corio’s eyes never left your thigh, sinking slowly to his knees in front of you. His initials there, stitched in metallic red thread to the white silk fabric, tied to your thigh in place. “Do you like it?” You whispered, the flecks of the golden flames from the candles reflecting in his eyes. 
Coriolanus’ gaze lifted to yours, hands cupping the back of your thigh, just above the garter. “You did this?” 
“Well, I-I didn’t make it. I, uh, I had it made but it was my idea.” You blushed, heart hammering. “My grandmother used to tell us stories that her great grandmother did this. It was an Old World tradition, but-but I thought it was… endearing.” 
Coriolanus nodded, eyes flicking to yours, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips. “Endearing…” He hummed, pad of his thumb swiping over the fabric that covered your inner thigh. “Very endearing.” 
“You like it?” You squeaked, nails raking over his scalp, pushing the curls back so you could better see his face. 
“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. You didn’t think he’d take to the garter over the lingerie the way he did. “I think you look wonderful with my name on you.” 
You blushed, hands raking through his hair. His fingers slipped over your panties, tugging them down slowly. Coriolanus undressed you, just as slowly and tantalizing as before, leaving you entirely bare in front of him- except for your ring and the garter. 
Corio had you pinned to the wall, hands anchored in on your hips, tongue lapping furiously at your clit, running through your folds. His eyes on you, holding your gaze, sharp squeezes to your hips when you’d tilt your head back and look away for too long. 
“Corio- oh!” You whined, pulling at his scalp, pulling him further and further into your sopping cunt. His mouth suckled at your clit. He was always so good at giving head- too good, you’d told him once, at the beginning of your relationship, though he’d never tell you who his past lovers were. 
“‘M gonna- ‘m gonna cum, Corio, please. I-I’m close, I’m so close.” You writhed under his touch, hips bucking and twisting. His hands held your firm against the wall, fingertip shaped bruises blossoming on your skin, eyes on yours, nearly challenging. 
Your fingers curled, nails digging into his scalp, yanking at the curls, moans and whimpers tumbling from your mouth as your vision blurred. You hoped the train's walls were soundproof from the other cabins. Corio would normally mock you for being so loud, tease you with a slanted grin. Thankfully, his mouth was still occupied on you, even as your legs shook and slid down the wall, further onto his face.
Your chest heaved, a sheen of sweat that accompanied your flush over your body. Corio grinned, pulling away, hands still holding you in place. His chin was dripping with your release, and he didn’t dare bother to wipe it away. Instead, he kissed you. Hand gripping your jaw firmly, snaking to the back of your head. It was filthy, him making you taste your own release on his tongue. 
“I want you,” Corio growled, a heaving breath between a rather harsh kiss. “To keep that on.” He muttered, and you knew he was talking about the garter. “And just that on for the remainder of the night, do you understand?” 
You nodded, a pathetic mewl trapped behind your teeth, nose brushing his. Corio’s thumb traced your bottom lip, brushing over the kiss bitten, swollen lip before slowly pressing his thumb in. You took the digit obediently, cheeks hollowing around his calloused finger, sucking lightly. Coriolanus’ cock throbbed at the sensation, at the sight of your rounded eyes on him, sucking at his finger. 
“If you want me to keep being nice to you,” Corio’s chin lifted, looking down at you in that authoritative way that made you throb, aching from the freshness of your last orgasm. “You keep that on. Make sure it doesn’t slip.” 
Coriolanus kept his word. He was nice to you the entire night, long into the morning when you settled into District One. Your legs wrapped around his waist, clawing at his back, pressing his head into your neck to feel closer to him. He covered you with sweet kisses, lips dragging along your cheeks, your jaw, feather light kisses that had you swooning. 
You were aching, linearly limping to the podium with Coriolanus, clutching his arm up the stairs, trying to hide your wince with every step. You’d spend the day in bed after that. Coriolanus would have orders to give, meetings- boring matters you were ok to miss. He’d spend his next night as a married man in the large bath tub with you, petals in the water, your legs on either side of his thighs making the water slosh over the side. 
Every time he heard it announced- Mr. and Mrs. Snow. He would beam with joy. That politician smile, dazzling and smug, holding your arm as you walked to the podium of each district.
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