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#super m x reader
thesafecafe · 1 year
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Super-M Masterlist
Group:
Members:
Baekhyun:
Taeyong:
Kai:
Ten:
Taemin:
Mark:
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privitivium · 3 months
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debating on masc or fem name or smth like clarence just so he could be called claire or something more common like a classic bro-dude name .. but wesley/emery/moses are pretty for this guy.. the dilemma of naming ocs you plan to use in the future hnnnghh..
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it is so soososoo cold. imagining the warmth of a desperate idiot guy pining after you, big pecs that r akin to breasts, [ and you, who is equally idiotic and completely oblivious to his obvious crush on you ,, ] he's unaware that he comes off a little creepy when he blanks and stares at you in the middle of conversation, which is completely unintentional! and then, who is he, a big meaty guy with a warm tawny complexion with unruly short brunette hair that he usually combs with his fingers, to decline a major cuddling session with his best bro when the heater is broken and the winter winds rage on outside ur obviously shared apartment??
burying ur face in the surprisingly soft chest of ur bestest best friend who was entirely comfortable with such affection - and you, humming in satisfaction and muttering mindless praises of “so comfy, bro.” and “really nice. so warm. nice gains.” while you nuzzle into his fat titsㅡsimple. it was the simple compliments, and yet it makes his heart palpitate uncomfortably fast even with your voice apathetic and gruff with sleepinessㅡwith your leg in between his and your knee pressing against his groin in a matter of comfortability - and you might be covered in thick sweatpants, sure, but that doesn't stop him from from growing a little something... like, his lover-bro in his arms with the chance to sniff him without seeming like a total weirdo??? bro, why can't it be cold all the time??? that way he'd get to shove his nose in his bro's neck completely consensually rather than weirdly staring at you in the middle of the night to watch how the moonlight hits ur face just right or how ur lips part while you snoreㅡ
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yakuly · 1 year
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Golden Hour | Mark Lee
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Pairing: Idol! MarkLee x NonIdol!FemaleReader
Words: 3.464
Warnings: VERY suggestive, mark calling reader "good girl", a basic mention of making out, and also insinuation of sex (if there's anything else, let me know:))
Summary: Mark release a new song, and wants to see his good girl reactions to it...
A.n: that's probably the 1.000.000 fic about golden hour you see through tumblr, but I just couldn't help myself. He's such a hottie calling cezienne good girl, it was my last straw! So I hope you enjoy this one too!
❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
Mark really values your opinion. Everytime he has a comeback, you are the first person out of the group to listen to it, and this time it wasn't different.
He's really excited for the release of "Golden Hour". When he produced with his friends, he got at home really excited because he felt it was "the" song, and you didn't doubted for a second.
But the thing is, Mark also have another reason to why he's so excited for you to listen to it, but he just couldn't say it. When writing, he thought about you and a specific line came up, and since then, he really wants to see your reaction.
He made you promise you wouldn't be listen to it until he got at home, and so you did. When he finally made it, it was clear as a day, how excited and energetic he was.
Mark made you sit at the couch, prepared the tv, and enjoyed the show. Unbeknownst to how he was sitting back at the couch to watch your reactions, you payed really good attention to the screen.
It was good. Like really good. It is undeniable that Mark is a hot guy, but seeing him at that music video, his low raspy voice, his attitude plus the guitar bass... It was too much to take it in. And then it came, hitting you hard...
"Ladies waited for me, good girl"
And he saw. He saw how your eyes got a little bit bigger, how you breath got stuck, and you moved a little bit in your spot. Once it ended, you took a deep breath and looked at him. Mark wore a smirk on his face, and you couldn't not focus on his lips. His lips that said those sinful words seconds ago.
"So?" He asked, leaning in closer to you, and once again your breath got stuck. Coughing a little bit, you smiled and thought about something nice that could match house you felt about it. "You are really something else, Mark Lee", you said leaning in to kiss him, but before you could, he didn't let you, making you pout a little.
"What part you liked the most?" He asked, his smirk getting wider. You almost rolled your eyes, but you really wanted to kiss him, so you said the first thing it came to mind: "when you call Ramsey"
Mark then laughed a little bit, but only because he saw you, but he wanted to hear from you. His hands went for your face, caressing you cheek, lingering it to your jaw, holding your face more firmly.
The action completely took you buy surprise, making you gasp. Lee lowered his voice, making it rasped like at the song, "are you sure baby?" Once he done talking, his thumb went to your lower lip, letting go gently. "I saw you, why don't you just say it?"
"You really need me to, right?" You look at him, almost annoyed from his antics, but in reality, aroused by it. He didn't need to answer you this time, so you just admited "fine, I liked when you said good girl"
Mark smile it was the last thing you saw before being completely engolfed buy him. His lips finally made into yours, in a needy yet sensual way. He was really into the moment, bringing your face closer to his, one of his hands in your hair, and the other one strongly squeezing your thigh.
"What a good girl" he pulled away for a second only to say that, and that's when you lost the whiling to control yourself. You then pushed him against the couch and pulling your own body on his laps. It's his turn to be eyes wide, and pure shock, but amousement. "Shit baby, if I knew you liked that I would had made the song a long ago" he said, smiling against your lips.
"If wanted to call me good girl this bad, you didn't had to make a song," you said after leaving kisses through his neck. You holder his face before continuing "all you had to do is say it"
Your lips couldn't stay a part for longer, and his hands definitely loved holding and grabbing your thighs and butt. Fact that you didn't complained at all, since it was helping you to move on his lap, feeling his jeans getting tight.
"Baby, you got a really big problem" you use his lyrics against him, after making his face get slightly apart from yours, griping his hair, making him moan.
Mark smirk for the ninth time that day, before getting up, and taking you by surprise, by taking you with him "Is my good girl going to help me?" He slaps hard your but, making you moan in his ears, gigling before saying "as long as you keep calling me like that, you can whatever you want".
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imaginidol · 1 year
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POV: The intimate moments of you and Baekhyun’s secret relationship
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The sight of your boyfriend jogging towards you under the otherwise dimly-lit street was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Again, you think, I get to finally see you again!
His panting gets heavier as he approaches closer, until you both finally embrace each other in a warm hug. His heavy black jacket is covered in his cologne and scent, one that you find so attractive and safe every single time.
“Baby,” he melts into you in delight. “I missed you.”
You smile warmly into him, whispering “I missed you, too!”
It wasn’t too many times during the week you got to see Baekhyun; the last time you saw him was probably close to three or four nights ago. Nowadays, it seemed as though the amount of Dispatch paparazzi and sasaengs flooded the privacy of artists as big as Baekhyun, following Chen’s announcement of having started a private family a few years back. Baekhyun’s name had only popped up once or twice for a dating scandal speculation in the last month or so, but he played it off very well, and with the help of an official statement from the company, he managed to keep his secret about you very private and exclusive only to himself.
“I brought you something,” he pulls away from you to reveal a small paper bowl with a plastic cover, filled to the brim with ice cream – a treat he knew you loved dearly.
“Baekhyun!” you smiled, your hands growing cooler at the touch of the cup.
“Shhh,” Baekhyun stops you with a sudden passionate kiss, numbly nibbling at your bottom lip as he feels your smile spread over your face. “If you say my name too loud, people might hear. We’re still close to SME.”
“Right, sorry,” you whisper in between kisses. You could tell he missed you from the way his kisses grew firmer against your lips, his weight almost completely leaning against your body. You’re the first to pull away, causing him to whimper softly in confusion. “For someone who doesn’t wanna get caught, you don’t hesitate to make out in front of SME,” you tease.
“Where are you parked?” His eyes travel quickly between your lips and your eyes, a sense of slight desperation overcoming him for wanting you in that moment.
“Farther down the street, behind that one corner store with the milkshakes,” you smile.
“What?” His expression quickly grows to deep concern. “Hell no, you can’t be parking back there anymore. It’s too sketchy for you to be around at this time of the night. Just start parking behind the SM building, the parking lot in the back. I’ll get you a pass tomorrow.”
“But Baek, the whole reason we agreed we wouldn’t be parking there in the first place was because we could get caught seeing each other or something,” your eyes threaten to fill with tears at the thought of Baekhyun’s name being once again stained at the stake of another dating scandal, especially now that it’s been years since the last real scandal finally died down.
“I change my mind; I’d rather you be safe and closer to me than out here. Sorry, I didn’t think about the alternatives much,” he heaves, taking you by the arm. “Let’s go to your car, I’ll drive us over.”
He takes his neck scarf and ties it over your face, then proceeds to pull a beanie from his jacket and tug it over himself. You both make way to your car, following carefully but briskly behind his every step.
Once you’re in the car, you turn to him, offering him some of your new ice cream.
“Only a little bit, love, since we’re performing tomorrow,” he agrees.
You take a spoonful of the cold treat and gently place it between his lips, a smile forming on his face at the sight of your own excitement. You take a spoonful of the dessert next, spilling a drop over your bottom lip.
He takes his thumb and slides it over your bottom lip, cleaning it over and proceeding to lick it off himself. The car groans to life, and soon you’re both driving carefully through a longer route until you reach the SME building.
He scans his ID through the back gates, allowing your car to enter into the private lot and hiding among the vehicles of other staff. He turns the car off, and then proceeds to turn his attention to you.
“Baek,” you start. “How much time do you have before you go in again?”
Baekhyun sighs back against his seat, pulling out his phone to check the time again. “Maybe fifteen, fourteen minutes?”
You both sit quietly for a moment in the silence of your reality: attempting to work out a secret relationship with a highly rated singer. It wasn’t the fairest game you thought you could handle.
There was just no privacy anymore.
In fact, it seemed as if Baekhyun’s stalker and sasaeng problem had only worstened over the course of the last few years.
“I’m trying to figure something out for us,” Baekhyun interrupts the silence. “I want you, but being with me is a toll too harsh for you to risk. I don’t want to… lose you.”
His voice cracks at the last syllable, while your tears spilled under your lids that you tried so hard to hold back.
“Are you sure you wanna keep doing this, Baek?” Your voice comes out a mere whisper, and he turns over in shock to see you had actually started crying.
“What? Of course I do. It’s… risky. But I knew what I signed up for when I knew I wanted you. Come here,” he pulls you in his arms, taking your ice cream and placing it on the dashboard. “A risk I’m willing to take, though I’m hoping for the better outcome.”
“Okay,” you heaved, “because I’ve already fallen for you pretty badly. I think I’m so down bad for you now, so it better work out for the best.”
“Shhh,” Baekhyun once again interrupts your doubts with a soft, tender kiss. “I’ll make sure it does,” he breathes through you, “I can’t lose whoever I choose to love over some stupid scandal. It’s never my fault when I fall in love. And I love you right now. Only you. I don’t want to lose you to a scandal like that, I don’t wanna go through any potential career deaths over my love life again.”
“I’m sorry, Baek,” you look up at him, feeling his cold fingers wipe away the warm tears welling from your eyes. His index and thumb lift your chin, forcing you to watch him closely.
“I’ll make sure you don’t fall harshly if we ever do get caught,” he promises with a smile.
Being the non-celebrity that you were, he knew how much your quiet, comfortable life meant to you. It meant a lot to him too, knowing that it was also a small escape from his lifestyle as well. One where he didn’t have to worry about his image or about having eyes on him at all times. You were also his comfort, and he couldn’t bear to lose that.
“I’ll work extra hard for you, too,” you finally smile up at him.
“Awe, look at you, pretty,” he whispers to you, pupils dilating at the sight of your beauty. To him, you were the greatest thing he could look forward to nowadays. What could possibly be better than this?
Suddenly, Baekhyun’s phone starts buzzing. He looks down to see it’s one of the members, and picks up.
“Yeah, I’m on break. Okay, I’ll be in soon, just give me a few more minutes,” he says, his eyebrows furrowing lightly. ���See you inside in a bit. Bye.”
“Who was that, Baek?”
“Chan,” he mutters. “They want me to re-record a few new adlibs they just added to our current project.”
“Oh,” you look down in defeat, “okay.”
“I’m sorry, love,” he turns to you, knowing that cutting his time meant cutting time away from you.
This hurt you just as much as it hurt him. How many times a week could he really actually see you? In between his busy schedules and sudden occurrences (like Chanyeol’s call just now), there wasn’t always much time left even for a secret relationship.
“That’s okay,” you look at him, a devious grin slowly spreading across your face. “Pick a number between one and ten,” you say slyly.
“What? Oh, um, two,” he looks up, an expression of confusion overtaking his face. “Why?”
You start giggling for a moment, before whispering quietly into his ear, “You have two minutes to make out with me, in any way that you want.”
A panicked expression pains his face, a soft whimper escaping his lips. “No, no, no, no, no, that’s not fair, that’s not fair, ask me again,” he starts pressing his palm against the curve of your neck, his eyes growing hooded.
“You’re ten seconds in,” you whisper, sending him into a frenzy.
He doesn’t take another moment of hesitation before he pushes his lips against yours.
He’s completely melted into your love. He presses against you, leaving small pecks and long kisses all over your mouth. His hands pull your legs in closer, then proceeding to slowly follow the curve of your waist until he reaches the brim of your collarbone. His soft lips demand yours to part, his teeth slowly making their way to your bottom lip. He’s biting and sucking on you, soft groans escaping his parted mouth and bringing music to your ears. He invites his tongue into your mouth, a sloppy mess forcing a quiet moan to escape you. His fingers make their way around your neck and up to your jaw, his grip firmly bringing you closer to him as if there wasn’t anymore space left between you both already.
“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled between kisses, though half of these words were more of a slurred, distracted speech.
His intensifying breathing pattern grows heavy and uneven, the only thought going through his mind being fuck, I’ve missed you so fucking much. You don’t know just how long he’d waited for this, but damn, it felt good.
“Time’s up!” you pull back giggling, watching his darkened eyes make a fuss out of your movements.
“Two minutes is not enough, let me pick another number,” he whines, making you laugh lightly in amusement.
“Baek, you really should go inside before Chan comes out looking for you,” you smirk.
“Ten minutes, I want ten minutes,” he pleads once more, but the slyness on your face tells him he’d have no chance. “I don’t get to see you often already as it is!”
You place your hand lightly on his cheek, your thumb sliding over his cheekbone. He lifts his hand and places it over yours, and you can see the desperation growing stronger in his expression.
But Baekhyun wouldn’t dare do anything to you without your permission.
“Give me your phone,” you say quietly.
“Why?”
“Give it, unlocked.”
He hands over the phone, anxiously waiting for you to give him another green light.
“Hmm,” you think, your thumbs searching through his messages, finally reaching Chanyeol’s number.
“Pick a number between ten and twenty,” you smile.
“A hundred!”
You break out in a laugh, and type something down into his phone, then returning it to him shortly after.
“What did you do?” He asks, studying the words on his screen.
“I just bought us a bit more time, and said you’re stuck in traffic.”
His eyes gleamed in absolute delight, a wide smile growing across his face.
Fuck, he was so beautiful.
“Now what?” He looks at you with eager eyes.
“Given I probably won’t see you for a couple days again, kiss me and don't stop. Oh, and by the way,” you subtly motion your head towards your backseat, “I made sure to tint my windows and clean the back seats for… you.”
He doesn’t hesitate to pull you into him, your giggles fading out into one of the most passionate love sessions you’ve ever experienced in your life.
On the dashboard, the ice cream slowly melts its way down to a mere puddle of tasty delight.
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heavenstocharlee · 6 months
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Winterbreak // m.lee
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Characters: Mark Lee x gender neutral!reader Category: angst / fluff if you squint Word count: 500+ (first poetic blurb!) Song inspiration: Winterbreak by MUNA
Writer’s notes: I am coming out of retirement and posting this blurb I wrote solely because the song reignited my love for writing. It was exciting to write in a more poetic style than usual, and I hope you appreciate it! More life updates soon, but for now bon appetit!
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Just as the snow on your windowsill slowly melts, you observe time fracture through bits of fleeting moments. The cold never struck you in such a way as it did. More so than ever before, you felt the winter breeze emanating from the drywalls of your apartment into the warm comfort of your epidermis. The break was not supposed to be this long, you thought. The tugging exchanges between you and Mark lasted for eons, and now numbness fills the spaces between each thread of tension.
You always knew you'd find your way back to him. "One more try." But the winter winds convince you otherwise. 
You and Mark were well aware of the reparations for parting ways. The consequences, however, outweighed the benefits. The break was transparent, and every day it was a struggle to stay still. You desperately depend on the ice beneath your feet to keep you afloat.
You haven't seen Mark since last winter break. A little over a year of hearts moving farther, albeit your love growing fonder. The last memory you shared with Mark consisted of you picking up clothes scattered across the floor and slowly making your way onto the freezing front porch. He wants to walk you home, but you refuse. Tears then started to trickle down his face, indicating that it was over this time. Despite all the bones in your body wanting to wipe all his tears away, you left his residence. His warmth. 
You broke Mark's heart. 
This love was just not fitting at the moment; the love the both of you won't get right. No matter how hard you try.
Habits were hard to break. Your soul respond to each other like the ebb and flow of glacier lakes. Turquoise in color—organic, bright, and untouchable. Ethereally calm in some days, raging in others. But every time his lips parted and his eyes were filled with painful aches, it was all just covering up what was lying underneath. Despite knowing every single thing, it was not going to fix anything. It was not going to repair the cracks or turn back the clock of what was once more. 
"One more try." You often muttered when even a hint of longingness prevailed on your mind. Constantly, until you were sick of it and had to truly just let go. From days to weeks, and now a year. The calendar has turned a new leaf, and all of the frost reminds you of the warmth you once had. 
Would it be different this time? 
You both know you won't get it right. 
Will the winter winds carry you into a change of mind? 
You both know that the trial season is over. 
Magnetic, isn't it? 
Like a force dragging you to greener pastures, as the thin ice resurfaces the underlying intentions.
One text message you send to Mark responds in tentative ellipses. To continue.  To hope. 
You make your way onto the bridge that you once held your memories on. As the vapor out of your mouth comes into existence on that coldest day of the year, you admire winter in its full glory. This time up close and personal, far from childish admiration.
With light and warm footsteps, you hear Mark making his way over to you.
Still, you both know.  This time, alas, it is right. 
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atinyjules · 1 month
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How To Become A Hero; The Hard Way ft. Mark Lee
<<moodboard 1>>
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*:・゚✧ Mark Lee *:・゚✧
The mini - masterlist for this series can be found here
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mklvibes · 2 years
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love you to the moon and to saturn | lee jeno
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masterlist | main blog
send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!
pairing. lee jeno x reader
genre. established relationship. fluff. 
word count. 1800+
warnings. light angst, slight makeout session, grammatical errors ahead! (lmk if you see anything else!)
playlist. taylor swift: seven, hey stephen (taylor’s version), stay stay stay (taylor’s version). the 1975: fallingforyou
author’s note. happy belated birthday lee jeno! 
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“Do you still dream of going away once you graduate?” Jeno asked you, melancholy laced in his voice. 
His question was sudden, not something you thought that was on his mind the night of his birthday. But then again, Jeno always manages to surprise you. Such as this, a clear night under the stars in their treehouse. Almost a year of dating him, yet you only found out about the treehouse today. 
“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, tightening your hold on his hand. Truth be told, ever since you fell in love with him, you never thought of going away by yourself, unless it’s with him - exploring new cities, falling in love with the countryside - all of it was with him. It dawned on you then, that this man laying beside you, whose thumb was grazing the back of your palm, is your home. He is someone you pictured coming home to after a tiring day. Someone, you pictured dancing with you in the kitchen with only the refrigerator lights on. And if soulmates were real, you knew Lee Jeno would be yours. “But I know I want to be with you.” 
God, you almost cringed at yourself by saying a cheesy line. But it was what you felt. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you assured him. “It’s your birthday, Jen. You shouldn’t think about those things. I promise you I’m not going away, not when I consider this place as my home. And if I do, I’d still come back to this place. Remember how we always joked about buying that house on the hilltop and owning more than ten dogs? I’d like that with you someday.” 
“Well, maybe not ten dogs,” Jeno shook his head. “We can barely even cook properly ourselves, how will we take care of ten dogs?” 
“They’ll have to eat the failed dishes, of course,” you answered, a teasing smile on your lips.
“And risk them getting food poison? I’d rather be the one to eat those.” Jeno let go of your hand, standing up. 
You pulled on his arm. “Where are you going?” 
“Just putting on some music, baby.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Be right back.”
You sat up when he fully left your vision, going somewhere behind you. The treehouse was not like the ones you imagined before, as something fit only for a child. This treehouse was spacious and littered with various memories from Jeno’s life. You could spend days here, asking him the story behind every little thing in the treehouse. There was a firetruck with broken tires, a story he told you earlier in which Haechan was the one to break it back in kindergarten. That was the start of their friendship, he told you. He was so mad at Haechan back then that he also broke Haechan’s remote-controlled toy car, which turned out to be Jaemin’s. It was a whole mess back then that led to the three of them becoming best friends. 
You looked around, noticing stickers of planes on the wall. The lighting of the treehouse was well enough that you see airplanes faintly drawn on its walls. It brought a small smile to your face, knowing how Jeno was on his way toward achieving his dream of becoming a pilot. 
Speaking of, you remembered your gift still in your bag. Crawling over to where it is placed, you rummaged its inside until you’ve found the blue velvet box containing your gift for him. It wasn’t much really, but the lengths you took to acquire it was something you’d treasure. 
“Hey,” Jeno walked over to you, speakers in one hand and the other holding his phone, handing it to you. “Play something.” 
“Why/” 
“Nothing,” he shrugged, sitting down next to you. “I just like the songs you listen to.” 
“Even KPOP?” 
“Yes, even that,” he said, brushing back strands of your hair that fell on the side of your face. 
You scrolled through his Spotify playlists, looking for one specific playlist. It was a playlist he made while he was still courting you with music you recommended, as well as songs from his playlists he thought you’d like. In a way, it was your comfort playlist and nothing feels comfier than this, the treehouse with a glass roof so you could see the stars, surrounded by things Jeno grew up with, and of course, the birthday boy himself. 
You found the playlist, chuckling as ‘Hey, Stephen’ by Taylor Swift played on shuffle. “You know, I always thought of you whenever I listened to this song.” 
“Why so?” He curiously looked at you, tilting his head a little to the side. 
“Because I can’t help it if you looked like an angel, can’t help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain, so,” You sang, making him laugh. “Come feel this magic, I’ve been feeling since I met you, can’t help it if there’s no one else. Mm, can’t help myself.” 
“I get it now,” he wrapped his arms around you when he calmed down, pulling you closer to his chest. 
“Do you?” 
“Maybe.” You scrunched your nose at that, but you can feel him smiling. 
You placed your head on Jeno’s shoulders and looked up through the glass roof, and to the stars, noticing how clear the skies are. “You know, I never learned the names of the stars. Renjun was skilled in astrology, I wasn’t. I never bothered to learn them, only tracing them with my finger and coming up with names for them.” 
Before answering, Jeno changed your positions, moving backward before pulling you into his chest, his legs on either side of you as his hands circled your waist. “Can you introduce them to me?” 
“I don’t really remember the names, though,” you frowned, thinking deeply. 
“Oh!” You perked up, grabbing one of Jeno’s hands and tracing stars with him. “There. The one you just drew, what is that?” 
“A house?” 
“It is, so I named it Mariposa, after the street of my childhood home.” You pulled his hand again to trace another star. “Okay, that’s another one. What do you think that is?”
Jeno puffed his cheeks, making you laugh. “Any clues?” 
“No,” you answered with a playful grin. 
“Okay, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Is it a clock?” 
You shook your head. 
“A fan?” No. 
“The moon?” No. 
“Eyes?” No. 
Jeno guessed a few more, but it was far from the correct answer. “Giving up?” 
“Never,” he answered. 
With a hum, you settled comfortably in his chest, grabbing his hand and playing with his fingers. You liked that he wore rings, often making you feel an additional wave of butterflies whenever you feel the cold metal in your hands when you hold his. You toyed with his rings for a few minutes, twisting them, changing their placement from one finger to another, until you feel Jeno sigh, placing his chin on your shoulder. “I give up.” 
“It’s you, silly.” You turned around to face him, cupping his face, and placing a small peck on his lips. You laughed and watched as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “That’s a dog and I remember naming it Nono, maybe I truly was meant to find you.” 
“I love you,” was his only reply, capturing your lips in his. It wasn’t light, nor was it heavy, but it was intimate, feeling as his lips molded into yours, taking his time as if it was the first time he had kissed you like this. You blamed the heat of the moment when your eyes fluttered shut, melting into the kiss as he tightened his hold around your waist. 
When you pulled away, you immediately remembered your gift and handed it to him, sitting criss-cross in front of him on the wooden floorboard. “Happy birthday, baby.”
You watched as he carefully opened the box, smiling softly when he saw your gift. It was a silver bracelet with a moon locket, which opens with the message, ‘I love you to the moon and to Saturn’. It matched with your necklace, which has Saturn as its charm and the reply inscribed inside. “Have I told you I love you to the moon and to Saturn?” he said with a smile.
“Passed down like folk songs,” you replied not missing the reference. He pulled you into a hug, placing another kiss on your forehead before handing you the bracelet. “Help me?” 
Clasping the bracelet on his left wrist, you saw how his eyes stayed on the charm, showing galaxies in them you could never see in the night sky because only his eyes hold them. 
Instead of focusing on one thing like Jeno was doing, you became aware of your surroundings. You noticed how loud the crickets were like somehow you were in the middle of a forest. And you also heard the music slowed to a stop, changing to the next song - a much slower song this time. It was one of Jeno’s music, a The 1975 one. 
When you recognized the song, you immediately stood up, taking Jeno’s attention away from the charm on his bracelet when the floorboard creaked as you stood up. His eyebrows furrowed when you offered your hand to him, but still, he held your hand lightly, swaying it to the beat of the song. 
“Come on, dance with me,” you said, watching as recognition crossed his face over your outstretched hand. 
“Shouldn’t I be the one to say that?” He said as you pulled him up. 
“Gender roles are overrated,” you answered, rolling your eyes, as you brushed his shoulders when he stood up. 
“Touche.” He wrapped his arms once again around your waist, this time to dance with you. 
There are days when your height difference with Jeno annoys you, this is not one of those days. You were grateful that your parents blessed you with height enough to wrap your arms around his neck as you swayed towards the beat of the song. Honestly, you weren’t really sure if you and Jeno are still swaying to the beat of the song, but you didn’t care. All you did care about was this - Jeno dancing with you when he won’t even let you dance with him during prom night years ago. This was the first time the two of you have slow danced, and you were sure to savor this moment with him. 
“Are you having fun?” You asked him, your hands playing with the strands of his hair on the back of his neck. 
“Yeah, very much,” he replied. You honestly don’t know how he does it but he smiled with his eyes, and you found yourself smiling back. 
“You know, someday, we’d be doing this at our own apartment,” you said. 
Jeno hummed. “What?”
“This,” you replied. “Dancing in our own living room or around the kitchen with the refrigerator lights.” 
Jeno smiled at that. “You and your Taylor Swift references.” 
“You know you love that.” 
“I do.” He kissed your forehead. “Very much. And I can’t wait to experience that and Stay Stay Stay with you.” 
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tokuteasings · 1 year
Text
Where the Ocean meets the Land
@askrikkaiandhyotei​ had asked for Umemori Genta and man...I don’t appreciate my son enough. So here we gooo~!
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Warnings: Just Genta being cute. I got inspired lol
It’s a knife to his chest, digging out innards and guts, finest sashimi being crafted out of singing swinging heartbeats. 
He’s drowning. 
He cannot breathe.
His teeth dig into soft lips and his hands shake, sweat ticking and trickling down the back of his neck and soaking into his shirt. There is a pout to his lips, though he tries to correctify it. He doesn’t want pity. He doesn’t want his beloved to tease him and taunt him, tugging him along.
Umemori Genta wants the truth.
But it’ll hurt him all the same. 
Their eyes narrow as they chew on the morsel - only the finest of fish for his beloved, he made careful sure of that - gears whirling and churning in their head. He could hear them clack, or maybe it was the clack of his own teeth?
His eyes don’t leave their form - perfection immaculate - his own brows mirroring theirs. He watches their throat bob, swallowing the piece and inhales deeply after swallowing that similar bob within his own esophagus. He calls out their name and they turn to him, cocking their head to the side curiously. 
“How…how was it?” his knuckles shift to snowy scapes as they grip the wood of his cart, threatening to shatter and splinter under his strength. “Was it good?” he bites down upon the tongue before he could bombard them with questions, flooding them with worries and what-ifs. They already have enough to contemplate, he doesn’t want to add more. 
They only chuckle, a gentle smile to their lips. “Genta,” they speak, clear and calm; a bell ringing through the dark. 
His throat is dry, his tongue darting out to lick parched lips. “Y-Yeah?”
“It’s great, I love it.” They smile a smile that graces the heavens, that sets his heart aflame and Genta pauses, and stares. His nostrils flare with air and his heart howls and whoops and screams. 
It all explodes out of him with the loudest yelp of elation, his head slamming against the top of his cart with a loud hiss leaving his lips. His beloved runs towards him, gripping him. “Are you okay?! Genta, you need to be more caref-”
Silence reigns the moment he slammed his lips against theirs, not caring for the taste of the ocean mingling with vinegar and home. They part when the ocean can no longer take the land’s love, a laugh leaving his lips. “Really? It is? You’re not joking are you? Just saying things?!” he lightly shakes them and they only chuckle again.
“I promise you, Genta.” they say while painting an ‘X’ over their heart. “I promise.” 
Genta squeals once more, peppering wave upon wave of kisses on to their face - eyes, nose, cheeks, forehead, hair, and finally lips - with the brightest of smiles. “Thanks, I knew you’d like it! I got the best stuff for you-!”
“I love it because you made it, Genta.” 
Waves are dyed red, parting lips and shock upon his entire form. Genta feels heat rolling upon the tides of his form, his smile brighter, “Really?” it’s an octave higher, something he never knew his voice could do.
“Honest.” 
Again he squeals, bringing them into the largest and biggest hugs, resting his chin upon their shoulder. He turns ever so slightly, pressing a kiss to their cheek, to the lobe of their ear. “Thank you.” he nuzzles further into their embrace. The ocean meeting the land, a harmony within his chest and home dusting at the corners of his heart. 
“You’re welcome. Come on, let me eat! I don’t want to waste it!”
“O-Oh! Right!”
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ficsforeren · 2 years
Note
hiii hope ur okay, wondering when you’ll post the chapters like the wedding or the reveal of the sequel of rockstar eren <3
uhh... maybe after i'm finished with Ice & Fire? hold on, let me check how many chapters I still need to work on
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ah yeah... so... umm...
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togetherhearted · 1 year
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I'm playing Mario + Rabbids Sparks of hope and I want to do 🌟the crazy thing🌟
Since I'm someone who likes to challenge themselves with silly stuff you can request me stuff with the main team + Edge. [But I can try Rabbid Rosalina and Bowser too]
It's going to be chaotic at first since I've never written for any fo them.
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imaginidol · 1 year
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I can't begin to explain to you how much I love the fact that you don't use the y/n format. I hate that format so so much. It's so jarring. I don't want to have to do work when I read a story ya know? I read just won't but I'm gonna devour them all. You just wait. I'm so excited!!
Oh my goodness THANK YOU for NOTICING!!! This makes me feel like these subtle details are slowly becoming worth the efforts <3
I actually don't like that format either, for the same reason you mentioned lolol. I plan to add a lot more general inclusivity through the reader's eyes for my current/future posts (whether this be through gender-neutrality, not overly-specifying individual features, body types, etc., unless otherwise specified beforehand)
I'm still working on being inclusive with the realism of the POV, so you'll probably find earlier fics/pictures where I missed these details here and there. I'm a bit more conscious of this now so that you don't have to mask a certain predetermined 'y/n' image for yourself and the sake of the story lol
I hope all of y'all get to feel like you're the one who's in the moment <3 give me some time to perfect some things here and there (and give me feedback on things I can consider/improve on); at least, these are the little limitless details that make my delulu hours just that much more enjoyable :))
anyway, I'll head back to my drafts to proof-read and plan out more stuff for y'all soon! hehehe
MUCH LOVE ❣️❣️❣️
ii
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lxnarphase · 2 months
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can i get a uhhhhh smut where reader wont stop running from tojis dick and he has to manhandle them into being still :3 !!!
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take it...real slow ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
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☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, dirty talk, rough sex, husband!toji, toji being whipped for his wife, toji being super sweet but filthy at the time same, toji calls you 'ma' and 'mama'
☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i love love looove the 'don't run away from it' with toji, i have to fight the urge from including it in every single work of mine ❤︎ but have a little blurbie of toji being a big bully that loves his wife who swears she can take the dick as i try to get back into the flow of writing !!
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f. toji knows it's big, he knows it so well. he takes him time to prep you each and every time, his thick fingers rubbing slow circles into your clit to build you pleasure, getting you nice and wet. he loves when you keen his name when he slips them inside. groaning when you gush on his fingers.
"fuck, baby, you're drippin'," he murmurs, mouthing at your neck. "all hot and sticky just for me? tsk...had you like this all day, yeah?" when you nod, he just chuckles, kissing right behind your ear. poor thing, having to work all day with your pretty cunt dripping like this. but he knew it was his fault, having woken you up with his mouth glued to your pussy. the feeling of his tongue running through your folds. but of course, he didn't let you cum, no, toji wanted you to be needy for him until you came home.
"you're doin' so good for me, mama. gonna be a good wifey for me and let me give you what you need?"
leaning over you, toji cages you in with his arms, waiting for you to focus on him. "look at me, doll," he gently commands. his hand cups your cheek, giving soft little slaps that have you giggling as you turn to nip at his fingers. "there she is," he so so sweetly coos at you, but that smirk he gives you is mean. "such a pretty little thing, aren't ya?"
pushing up one of your thighs, toji rubs the swollen head of his thick cock against your slick folds, teasing at your entrance. you look so pretty, so cute, all his...but he knows what's going to happen the second he presses into you, and the thought makes him throb. "jus' relax, mama, 'm gonna make it good for you," he hums, pushing his tip into your cunt.
as he pushes deeper, he leans closer to whisper to you, his breathe hot against your ear. "you gonna run from it again, baby? like you always do? or you gonna be good for me this time?" you swear up and down you don't run away, that you take it because you love it, glaring up at him but that defiant look is wiped off your face the instant he feels that you've completely relaxed, sliding aaaall the way in.
"tojiiiiii, y-you can't just push, mn, in like that...you're so mean!"
"mm...nuh uh," he teases, an almost evil grin on his face as you gaped at his childish response. toji can feel that you need him, he knows you just desperately need to be fucked into the mattress...so of course he's gonna give his pretty wife just what she needs.
his hands hold you in place as he thrusts into you with force, a predatory glint in his eyes as he coos your name. he just started and your eyes are already starting to roll back, crying out his name as thanks for finally, finally fucking you like you needed it. each time he pressed in you could feel his hot tip smushing against your cervix.
"always sayin' 'it's too much, it's too much,' but look at you," he mocks, not allowing you to wiggle up the bed and away from him. no, no, you need this, you need it so bad, the way your pussy is sucking him in, milking his cock. this was the best away to make you take it, to have you trapped under him unable to move away from his fat cock abusing your insides.
"nothin' 's too good for ya, mama, nah, you deserve every. fuckin'. inch."
even thought he's got you trapped like this, you still start to move, trying to angle your hips away from each hard thrust into you. "doll," he growls, grabbing your chin to make you look at him. he was actually starting to get sick of it...why wouldn't you be good and take it for him? did you need him to be mean?
"it's like you want me to fuckin' manhandle you t'' stay still. fuckin' slut needs her husband to treat her like a toy?"
one look into your eyes made toji snap. all he could see was that silent answer of 'yes' in your eyes.
"oh. oh. oh, you do, you do, don't you? yeah? ohhh, baby girl, you poor poor thing, just needed your big bad toji t' use you like a fleshlight," he groans, coming down to support himself on his forearms as he began to pound into your messy cunt, laughing breathlessly when you practically sobbed.
"'m not lettin' you run away, mama," toji grunts, his eyes squeezed shut. "mmph, i'm gonna pump this little pussy full of my cum, gonna mark up those insides. yeah, you want that? huh? ooh, i know ya do, pretty thing."
"h-hu-ooh, babyy," you whine, eyes barely focusing on his face. your hands are gripping his hair and you realize now you really can't move away. his subtle repositioning has your hips a little off the bed. he's so deep, he's stretching you do good, you don't know why you'd wanna run away from it, you really don't, it's just too good, you feel like your going to explode--
"look at you now, mama," he praises. "fuck, can't run from it anymore? c'mon, doll, i'm gonna teach you t' take it. mmh, not lettin' you run anymore, gonna teach this pussy t' take every thing i give t' it, baby girl, 'm done lettin' you get away from me."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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atrwriting · 4 months
Text
future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader
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hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon
this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!
as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda
informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned
anyways… here is future problems:
he never wanted to get married.
he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.
despised them.
however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.
and it would be you.
he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.
it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.
he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.
however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.
at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.
but then… oh, then…
then he saw your smile.
oh, your smile.
your fucking smile.
the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.
no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.
no one.
when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.
and it was… until he was sick.
it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.
however, he did not expect one problem.
and that would be you.
he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.
he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?
so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.
just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.
he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —
but he couldn’t finish the thought.
because you walked in.
smelling like fucking lilacs.
lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.
however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.
he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.
“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”
“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”
you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.
he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.
“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”
you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”
you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”
you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.
he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.
however, he didn’t understand why.
he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?
he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.
and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.
however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?
his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.
he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.
he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!
he had to know. he had to.
to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.
as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.
"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."
you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"
"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."
you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?
"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."
why. why. why.
he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.
he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.
the act would drop. it always did.
the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.
and he fucking hated himself for it.
he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.
but you had kept reading for him.
he grew angry.
when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."
your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.
"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."
you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.
"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.
you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."
she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.
the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.
that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.
that would have to be righted immediately.
he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.
they always slip.
the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.
he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.
how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.
you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.
"good evening," you greeted.
"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.
"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.
he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"
your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."
you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."
you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."
he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"
your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”
your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?
so he went with what was natural: manipulation.
“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”
you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.
“what troubles you?” he asked.
your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.
“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”
“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”
there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.
“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”
your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.
“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”
“please,” he answered and nodded.
you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.
this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.
he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.
you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.
you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.
and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.
for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,
to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.
you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.
after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.
how had he not expected this?
his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.
he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.
he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.
he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.
good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.
he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.
so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.
he hated himself for the lilacs.
he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.
however, it didn’t.
all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.
she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.
he knew what he had to do.
he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.
he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.
he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.
you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”
“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.
“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”
you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.
“how do you like his new book?” you asked.
coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”
you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”
he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.
“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”
you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”
“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”
you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”
“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.
you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”
now was the time.
“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”
you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.
damn, he thought. didnt bite.
“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.
you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”
he nodded.
“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”
“i don’t understand.”
you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”
your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.
“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.
there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”
your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.
“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.
“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”
“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.
“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”
it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.
“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”
“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”
you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed
you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.
there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?
he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.
once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.
when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”
“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”
he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.
oh.
you invited him in to… to…
that he had not expected.
before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.
once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.
you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.
what was he to do?
he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.
the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.
would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?
you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.
he reasoned a reward was in order.
he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.
the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.
then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.
those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.
however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.
he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.
“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”
coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.
coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.
“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”
your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”
his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.
“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“
he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.
he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.
“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.
your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”
“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.
you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.
“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“
coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”
he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.
just this once, you both thought. just this once.
his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.
with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.
corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.
“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.
he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”
he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.
he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”
you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”
his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”
“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.
his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”
“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”
bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.
it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.
“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”
he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”
you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.
holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.
he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.
you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.
a low hum filled his chest.
you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.
that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.
maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.
you had to do something.
"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."
he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.
you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.
"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."
your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.
"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.
"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."
you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."
he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"
you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."
he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"
"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."
"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.
you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.
“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”
there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.
he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.
in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.
“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.
your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.
with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.
shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.
his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.
“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”
you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.
he cocked an eyebrow.
“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”
corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…
oh… you were done for.
one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.
the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.
“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”
his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.
“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”
“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”
“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”
“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.
the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —
“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”
tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —
“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“
there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.
“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”
“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”
you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.
it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.
tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.
his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.
“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.
“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”
you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“
“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.
you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“
he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.
“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”
you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”
he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”
you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."
you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”
“i promise,” you returned.
you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.
everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.
"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"
"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"
you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.
you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.
he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.
you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.
"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."
again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...
that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.
"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."
his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."
your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."
corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.
"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."
"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."
his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"
"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"
corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.
when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.
he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.
"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."
corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"
you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."
he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."
---
love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u
-L xooxoxooxox
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sttoru · 3 months
Text
.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji can’t get his deserved rest due to his baby boy keeping him awake.
wc. 707
tags. dad!toji x female reader. nothing else to add; just pure fluff.
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“he’s kickin’ me again,” toji complains with a deep sigh. tiny feet keep patting his back, not allowing the man to sleep at all. the culprit is none other than megumi—his beloved, yet bratty, son.
the little boy lays between you and your husband. you figured that this was best since megumi kept wailing each time you put him back in his crib.
you chuckle at toji’s groans of annoyance. your son is still full of energy, even if it’s already super late at night. your hand brushes against megumi’s chubby cheek and you can’t help but squeeze it lightly.
that action gains you a high-pitched squeak. you sigh and keep your child occupied with the movement of your finger against his face, “it’s his way of asking for attention, honey.”
toji grumbles something under his breath and scoots away from the both of you. megumi’s head turns towards his dad, his attention caught by the rustling of the sheets. you raise an eyebrow in response to toji putting distance between you both.
“papa’s mean,” you huff, talking to your baby. you can’t see toji’s face since his broad back is obstructing the view, though you can easily guess that he’s frowning.
maybe even secretly sulking about the lack of sleep. you do understand, however. he’s worked hard all day to provide for both megumi and you.
“papa,” megumi speaks up with an adorable pout on his lips. he crawls over to toji before you can stop him. the little boy taps at toji’s back again, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.
megumi’s need for attention and affection from his father is heartwarming to see. you reach out towards your son in hopes of picking him back up. toji needs his rest after all.
a deep sigh escapes toji’s lips. not one of frustration this time, but rather one of defeat. he opens his eyes and turns around to face megumi. the man’s stoic face softens the moment he sees those cute doe eyes staring up at him.
“c’mere,” toji grumbles and lifts his child’s tiny body up without any effort. megumi giggles instantly and reaches his hands out to hold his dad’s face. your husband playfully bites your son’s tiny fingers instead, “not gonna allow y’r dad to sleep, huh? tsk tsk.”
you watch the scene unfold with a tender smile. toji lowers his head and starts blowing raspberries against megumi’s tummy. the baby squeals and giggles uncontrollably, writhing around in toji’s embrace.
“this is what ya get for being a brat,” toji mumbles and switches to leaving kisses along the little boy’s belly. that makes megumi laugh as well due to the ticklishness.
toji grins. his earlier drowsiness and annoyance have vanished into thin air. he can’t possibly stay mad at his son. not after seeing megumi happy. and especially not after seeing your content smile too.
“mama! mama!” megumi laughs between cries of help. his tiny hand reaches out to you whilst toji continues the little attack on his tummy. you chuckle and decide to intervene.
you scoot over to the other side and shield megumi’s tiny body from your husband’s tickles. you frown and playfully scold him, “stay away from my baby, you big bad guy.”
toji raises an eyebrow in amusement. he bites back a laugh before cocking his head to the side, that familiar smug expression appearing on his face.
“oh yeah? ‘m the bad guy now, eh?” the dark-haired man rolls his eyes. he towers over both you and your son - who’s giggling and still holding tightly onto you, “all right. i’ll show you just how bad i can be then.”
your eyes widen the moment you feel toji’s fingers land underneath your shirt, touching your bare skin. not a second passes by and he’s already tickling you. his other hand reaches for megumi’s tummy again—now making the both of you squirm and giggle loudly.
the happy sounds echo throughout the room. perhaps even loud enough for your neighbours to hear at four in the morning. but, you don’t care about any possible noise complaints. not during this cozy family moment.
plus toji’s fond smile as he continues torturing you and your son is definitely worth all of it.
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atinyjules · 1 month
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How To Become A Hero; The Hard Way ft. Mark Lee
<<moodboard 2>>
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༶•┈┈Nakamoto Miwa┈♛
The mini - masterlist for this series can be found here
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jamminvroomvroom · 28 days
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4k celebration
i want to see feral lando. dom lando. choking and degrading and rough lando. maybe a bad race, maybe flirting with another driver. weeknd vibes lando. rough rough rough lando.
heat.
ln x fem!reader - 4k celebration
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in which lando fucks you until the sun comes up :)
i am. feral. there are no words to describe how unhinged i am over this, this is super self indulgent and i cannot thank you enough anon hehe - lemme know what y’all think ily! <3
songs to set the mood: earned it by the weeknd, novacane by frank ocean, heaven angel by the driver era
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp with a bit of plot, choking, crying, swearing, overstimulation, neck? riding? (hehe), degradation, a slap or two, soft dom!lando, also not so soft dom!lando (he switches up a bit), just feral unhinged vibes
2k words
foreglow:
the glow of light appearing in the sky preceding sunrise
-
the sunrise casts a tangerine foreglow over your bodies, the bed, everything the light can touch.
lando’s slumped against the headboard and you’re sprawled over his lap, legs hooked over his, with his hand working between your thighs.
it’s been hours. he’s had you spread out for him, countless positions and locations utilised. you were paying for your behaviour over the race weekend, but really, it was all his fault.
he’d been too cocky, looked too good, the australian air getting to his head. you’d been glowering at him since you’d arrived in the land down under, watching in erotically charged horror as he paraded around looking, to put it simply, slutty. tight shorts, arms out, neck on display for all to see. his fucking neck. god, it looked so thick, flexing every time he turned to smirk at you. the heat rendered you delirious, and so did he.
and you couldn’t even think about that fucking daddy bracelet he’d been sporting.
you decided you needed payback, in the form of some carefully constructed, harmless flirting with everyone from the mechanics to the guys on the pit wall old enough to be your father. but lo and behold, it worked, and that’s how you found yourself in this position.
the position in question?
being fucked every which way lando deemed fit until the sun came up.
“you learnt your lesson yet, baby?” lando grunts into your ear, pinching your clit between his fingers.
your thighs are soaked, shaking uncontrollably, and your head has lulled back against his shoulder. you’re breathing heavily, your back flush against his front and he’s restless. you’ve lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve been pushed to.
“lan.” you breathe, eyes fixated on the bracelet adorning his wrist. the kitschy trinket sends liquid fire down your spine and you spasm as he continues to swirl his calloused thumb over your clit.
“that’s not an answer.” he tuts, slipping his fingers through your slit until he’s circling your weeping entrance. you’re coated with slick, some of it his from where he’d fucked you up against the wall a good few hours ago. “have you,” he kisses your shoulder, trailing his fingers that were digging into your hip up your belly. “learnt your lesson?” his teeth sink into your flesh at the same time he pinches your nipple.
you gasp out a cry of his name, slurring incomprehensibly, “yes, yes, ‘m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you sob. his chest rumbles cruelly with laughter and you’re hurtling towards another release, the overstimulation making it easy for him to get you off.
“that’s all you needed to say, honey.” lando coos condescendingly.
as if he’s rewarding you for owning up, two of his fingers sink into your entrance, sliding deep. the sound of your wetness sends your eyes rolling back as he scissors his digits in and out of you, speeding them up into a delicious grind. you’re a mess in seconds, slumped into him as close as can be. kisses over your neck soothe you and you feel the wet rush of your release approaching quicker than you can comprehend it. you gush all over his fingers, dripping down his wrist, coating that annoying fucking bracelet.
“there you go, baby. so good for me.” he whispers, slowing his thrusts. “can you turn over for me? want you to look at me.”
you pant as you wriggle around in his arms until you’re straddling his lap. you can feel yourself dripping on him, his thick length sliding between your folds. the exhaustion renders you languid, ready to let him do just about whatever he wants to you next.
lando cups your breast, stroking gently over your nipple while he runs his tongue all over his long fingers. he loves to make you watch, torturing you until you’re needy for another release.
“you think you can do a few more for me?” lando smirks, bringing the fingers that he’d just licked clean to your other breast, fiddling with your other nipple. he has you rolling your hips against him, inadvertently chasing another high already. he loves it, revels in how he can reduce you to this, so desperate that you’re grinding down on his cock, a wet mess in his lap, all for him.
“yeah, lan.” you nod profusely, your tired eyes locked with his. the early morning sun hits them enticingly, making them sparkle green in the warm light. he looks disgustingly gorgeous like this, soft and yours, resting against the headboard, curls spilling over his forehead and into his eyes. if you didn’t know that he was mulling over a million twisted ideas in his brain that involved resorting you to tears of pleasure, you’d think he looked adorable.
“good.” he grins. “not even nearly done with you.” he looks evil; your thighs clench around his hips.
without moving you off of his lap, he uses his strength to slide down the bed until he lays flat. he beckons you to crawl up his body, and you find the strength to wriggle over him, thighs resting on either side of his neck when he stops you.
“you gonna slide your pretty little cunt over my neck?” lando asks, wrapping his huge hands around your thighs. you gulp, staring down at him dumbfounded. “don’t look at me like i’m crazy, baby. you think i don’t see you staring at it with that special little look in your eyes?” he teases. “get to fucking work, i’m not gonna ask again.”
hesitantly, you lower yourself against his his skin, flaming red with embarrassment and lust. you can’t lie and pretend that you aren’t utterly enticed by this, that you aren’t leaking down your thighs at the prospect of sliding your pussy along his tanned, flexed flesh. the adventurousness of the escapade makes your legs tremble, nerves eating you alive, but it’s all worth it when you feel that first glide.
you curse out, loud and breathy, the new sensation creating lewd sounds between you. he’s obsessed, staring up at you in mischievous awe as you rock your hips backwards and forwards. you tangle one hand in his hair, tugging hard in sheer desperation, while the other hand balances you against the headboard so you don’t crush him. he guides your hips like he wants to die like this, suffocated by you and everything you have to offer him.
“oh my fucking god.” you choke out a moan, jaw hanging agape as you continue to slide against him. every time you move forwards, you feel the delectable prickle of his trimmed facial hair scratching against your inner thighs and your eyes squeeze shut each time, pure pleasure bubbling in the pit of your belly.
“you have no idea how fucking good you look.” lando rasps, digging his fingertips into the meat of your thighs. you’re so tense, teetering on the very edge. the strength he possesses, his composure while you’re sitting on his fucking neck makes you throb.
you gaze down at him, feral, and it does something to him, because he’s yanking you up onto his parted lips, burying his face as far as it will go. you yelp, collapsing into the headboard as he holds you down on his tongue, lapping up your mess.
“can taste us.” he mumbles into the flesh of your cunt, barely audible, but you hear it and it makes you shiver. you black out as your orgasm hits, your ears ringing as bliss courses through your limp body like a delicious electric shock. your nerves are shot when he rolls you onto your back.
“fucking heaven.” lando groans, crawling over you as he licks his lips.
he’s invigorated by the taste of you, how spent you are, and how it’s all his fault. you can’t string a sentence together, but you’re grabbing at his toned body like you’re begging silently for more, anything. he needs to drive into you, fill up up, make you remember that your little games will always lead back to this, the reminder that you’re his.
“you sensitive, honey?” he growls, hand sliding between your legs while his necklace rests in the valley between your breasts. you whimper at the sensation, overloaded, nodding. you both know you need more; he needs more. “tough.”
lando practically folds you in half when he fucks into you, giving you no solace in adjusting to him. he ruts into you hard, fast, unrelenting as he sinks deeper and deeper with every thrust.
“you’re gonna behave from now on. you don’t need to make me jealous for me to fuck you.” he grunts. his slaps your hip, the harsh snap leaving a sting that has you convulsing. “this is what you deserve isn’t it? whoring yourself out because you were a wet mess for me all weekend.”
you whine his name, sobs wracking your body. he feels utterly divine hammering into you like life itself depends on it. you’ve lost track of where he stops and you begin, stars behind your eyes that turn into butterflies festering in your belly. you’re so full, flushed beneath him, gushing every time he opens his dirty fucking mouth.
“crying for me, love?” he mocks, lowering himself to get even closer to you, his tongue finding your tears tracks and licking the salty residue away until you’re shuddering.
“please, lando, please, told you i’m sorry.” you plead, begging for something undisclosed, but it’s okay, because he knows exactly what to do with you.
“be fucking quiet.” lando coos once more, sickeningly unsympathetic.
but you can’t help it, whimpering out his name, begging for some form of relief, or mercy, or for him to just fuck you impossibly harder. how can you be quiet when he’s tearing you so perfectly apart?
lando doesn’t like being disobeyed, so when you continue to sob, loud and lewdly, his hand finds it’s way to the base of your throat. your jaw goes slack, wheezing at the intense rush you get when he squeezes slowly, and you can’t help but let go.
“fucking- lando!” you writhe.
“i know, baby, i know.” he shushes you, hooking your leg even higher so that he can bury himself as deep as possible.
you spasm hard, impossibly tight around him and he stutters, collapsing you both hard into the mattress. you hold him so, so tight as he cums, shooting into you. you can feel him leaking out of you already, white hot, and laying there in a heap of sweat and adoration. he breathes a laugh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“are you okay, honey?” he whispers, kissing your collarbone.
“just peachy. a bit knackered.” you giggle, tangling your fingers into his damp curls.
“so, you liked the bracelet then?” he teases, nose bumping against your cheek as he raises his wrist to your eye line.
“i think it needs a clean.” you wrinkle your nose, thinking about what the beads had been exposed to over the last few hours.
“let’s shower, hm? then we can watch the sunrise.” lando suggests, sitting you up slowly.
“you’re gonna need to carry me.” your legs are still quivering.
“anything for you.” he says, hand over his heart.
-
45 minutes later, the sun is sitting pretty, high in the sky.
7:26am, the clock reads. the melbourne skyline glimmers hot with the rise of a new day.
you’re snuggled into his side, wet hair cooling the heat of damp skin. your eyes flutter, barely fighting the urgent need to sleep.
“you have no idea how much i love you.” lando caresses your stringy locks, pushing the hair from your eyes.
your bare bodies mould together, basking in the orange of the dawn.
“love you.” you mutter, brushing your lips against his chest in an open mouthed kiss. “promise i’ll start behaving.” you snicker.
“but baby, you know i love it when you’re bad.”
“okay, i’ll remember that… daddy.” you retort, a teasing lilt to your tone.
he ignores the way his blood rushes south, too conscious of your exhausted body - and his own - to climb on top of you and fuck you until the sun sets once more.
“get some sleep.” he whispers through gritted teeth.
you sink into sleep while he watches over you. the view from the hotel room is gorgeous, breathtaking, but why would he give it even a millisecond of his attention when he has you?
-
head? empty.
-
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