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#tom blyth x reader smut
slutforsnow · 3 months
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY POOKIE 🫶🏼
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floralcyanide · 4 months
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— 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)
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important note: if you don't like rpf (or fanfic about real people), please just scroll past. don't be rude in the reblogs or tags or I will just block you. it costs zero dollars to mind your business and keep scrolling. tom will literally never see this. I will never send it to him. therefore, no one is getting harmed by this. rpf is written by many about many real people and has been for a long time. if you'd like to file a complaint, I'd love to see you say that writing rpf is weird to the Hamilton fandom, the Billy the Kid fandom, the Elvis/ Queen/ Greta Van Fleet/ other bands and singers fandoms, (especially the k pop fandom. I pray you survive if you do.) etc etc. basically, just ignore this if you don't wanna see it. have a good day (:
⌯ pairing: tom blyth / fem!reader
⌯ warnings: mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, mentions of smoking, reader smokes but it isn't explicitly described (can be an ignored detail), eventual smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (please protect yourself with strangers), oral sex (f receiving), nipple play, cum eating, fluff if you squint
⌯ word count: 3454
⌯ summary: at your friend's christmas party, you meet tom blyth and there's a strong connection off the bat. after a little too much to drink and a night spent talking, the two of you have an intimate christmas eve together. (based on those nights by bastille.)
⌯ author’s note: I've been so busy that I haven't been able to finish this until today lol and it took ages because I kept getting distracted ((: anyway!! merry christmas and happy hanukkah, I hope everyone enjoys this (: if you don't pls keep it to yourself
divider credit: @arminsumi | @eloquentreverie | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.
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You’re nursing a glass of half-sipped champagne, trying your best to pay attention to what your friend is saying to you through the pounding music. Being social with them is the least you can do, considering this is their holiday party you’re attending. And they’ve supplied the alcohol that you’ve helped yourself to all night. This is one reason why you can’t focus very well, but there’s another reason, too. You swear you feel eyes from somewhere in the apartment searing into the back of your head. At first, it wasn’t a big deal. But now it’s almost as if you’re scared to move in case someone is watching. Still listening to your friend, you realize you’re unable to look around to find the source. So you push away the sensation the best you can for now. A mutual friend waves at you from across the room where the makeshift bar is. Downing the rest of your champagne, you bid the friend you’re conversing with a quick goodbye for the time being. Hurrying to your friend who beckoned you over, you look at them with a raised brow when their face scrunches up into a giddy smile.
“Why do you look like that?” you ask, carefully eyeballing them.
Your friend chuckles at you, leaning into your ear, “There’s a hot guy back there who has been eyeing you for quite some time.”
Your face contorts into realization. So that’s why you’ve been feeling eyes burning into you. You hesitantly turn around, hoping you aren’t too blatantly obvious in finding who is staring. However, at this point in the night, you aren’t entirely graceful by any means. Your eyes catch onto a brunette man almost immediately, like you’re drawn to one another somehow. The man glances down at his drink before letting his eyes shoot back up to yours, his determined gaze sending goosebumps across your skin. Your friend has been too busy making you a drink to notice the tension but still manages to switch out your empty glass with a full one despite your daze.
“I’ll be right back,” you say just loud enough for your friend to hear over the song blaring through the speakers.
With the alcohol burning in your system, the atmosphere of the apartment seems otherworldly. It’s a fairly glitzy party, so you’re dressed for the occasion. Your outfit highlights your best features, allowing you to have an air of confidence. A kind of confidence you don’t usually carry. The alcohol certainly helps with that. The shimmery lighting bouncing off the walls gives off an ethereal vibe to the apartment. The dim glimmer of the room casts the shadow of the brunette man’s eyelashes onto his cheekbones. The closer you get, the more you notice about him. His aquiline nose, the contour of facial hair on his face, the tasteful and subtle golden hoop in his left ear. You see a small smile stretch across his lips as you approach him.
“I am so sorry if I’m coming off as creepy,” he shouts over the music, laughing to himself, “I promise I don’t mean to. You’re just really attractive.”
You take a moment to let your eyes take in his form as discreetly as possible, noticing his towering height and lean physique. Now that you’re close enough to properly see his face, you note that his eyes shine a hauntingly beautiful shade of icy blue. He takes a moment to study your face as well, waiting with bated breath for your response.
“That means a lot coming from someone who is also attractive. And I thought I felt someone staring,” you jokingly smile at him around a sip of your drink.
“Sorry about that,” the man rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I just never know how to approach without being awkward.”
Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the heavy weight of the brunette’s eyes on yours, your drink burning away any nervousness that had previously lingered.
“I get it,” you match his smile that has yet to wipe off his face, “I’m not the type to come up to someone I find cute. But…” you trail off, taking in the man’s attractiveness, “There’s something about you I can’t put my finger on.”
“Well,” he chuckles at you, bringing his glass to his lips before hesitating, “You’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Oh really?’ you raise your eyebrows, a playful tinge to your voice, “How’s that?”
“Do you smoke?” the man asks.
“Only when I’m drinking,” you chide. 
The two of you weave around the other party-goers toward the fire escape, and you snatch the bottle of something from your friend’s hand while passing the bar on the way out. After clambering from the window behind the tall man, who effortlessly climbed out, you take his outstretched hand. Planting your feet on the landing, you watch as the man fishes out a pack of cigarettes and a pack of matches from his back pocket. He looks up at you expectantly, patting the spot on the metal grating next to him.
“I don’t bite,” he jokes, “Not hard, anyway.”
You bite back a snort but sit down anyway. You take a swig of the clear liquid in the bottle you took before offering it to the man with a sour face. He’s in the process of lighting up, the cigarette hanging between his lips casually as he holds a lit match to the end. You watch him do this, and something stirs inside you. He takes a drag before handing the cigarette to you and taking the bottle from your hand. 
“You smoke a lot?” you ask him before taking a drag of your own, your eyes not leaving him.
He shrugs, “I picked it up while in college. It’s a bad habit I go back to sometimes.”
“I see,” you say, “I forgot to ask, but what’s your name?”
“Tom,” the brunette says, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he offers a free hand for you to shake. You gently take it.
Despite the chill of the night, Tom’s hand is warm against yours. You both hesitate to pull away, but a shy chuckle shared between the two of you causes a natural break of grip. You continue to smoke and pass the bottle to and from each other, talking about this year’s notable events in your lives. You speak for a while before more personal details begin spilling. Like how much you hate your job and how Tom missed his co-stars from his last project. Or how you both hate being single during the holidays. The more alcohol that’s consumed, the more you discuss your lives. It’s only been an hour or two, but it feels like you’ve known each other forever. 
A comfortable silence falls over the two of you. Tom looks over at you, admiring how your cigarette looked so natural in your hand. And how your hair fell perfectly around your face and how you swung your legs back and forth innocently. The corners of Tom’s lips twitch upward as he subtly moves closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours. He thinks you’re quite interesting and pretty- he doesn’t know why you’re still single when you’re such an amazing person.
You feel the roughness of his trousers against your bare thigh as you finish your final cigarette. You swish the remaining contents of the bottle around, deciding that your blurry peripheral vision means it is time to stop drinking. When you turn to offer Tom the rest of the alcohol, he’s facing you already, mere inches away. Your breath hitches as his eyes look into yours. They drop to your lips, and despite your intoxication, you feel giddy in your stomach. 
“Can I,” Tom whispers, lifting a hand to your cheek, “Can I kiss you?”
You sit the bottle down on the other side of where you’re sitting, a drunken smile growing on your face, “Of course you can.”
Tom leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. You inhale sharply through your nose at the intense feeling of electricity between the two of you. You can taste the alcohol on him when you run your tongue across his bottom lip, testing just how far he wants to go. Your hand reaches up and cards through his dark hair, bringing him as close as possible as the kiss becomes more passionate. Tom’s free hand grasps your hip, his thumb digging deeper into your skin the harder you kiss him. Your head swims as he peppers his lips along your jawline and under your ear.
“We should probably go inside,” you pull away reluctantly, but even in your stupor, you don’t want to get carried away and fall off the fire escape.
You struggle to push up the cracked open window, and Tom giggles at you as he effortlessly pushes it open for you. Both of you climb through, and your friend shakes their head at you when your feet land firmly on the floor.
“I had wondered where you ran off to,” they chuckle, “I see you’ve met my friend Tom.”
“Uh, yeah,” you smile, looking up at him as he stands beside you.
Your friend looks closely at the two of you, noticing your bitten lips and Tom’s flushed face, “Now that the party has dwindled down, you guys can chill upstairs where it’s quiet. I have a book collection you two would enjoy.”
“Gotcha,” you nod as they walk away to mingle with other partygoers.
Looking around, you notice the remainder of the gathering is in other parts of the apartment, leaving the living room and upstairs unoccupied. Tom grabs your hand, pulling you away from the kitchen to the hallway leading to the stairs. You pull him into another kiss, Tom giggling at your eagerness as he sways slightly. He walks you backward until you feel your back against the nearby wall. Neither of you would do this on a typical day, but the energy between both of you is so intense. Your hands move underneath his shirt, your cold palms making contact with his warm skin. Tom gasps into the kiss at the contact, and you scoff, pulling away from him and grabbing his hand to drag him up the stairs.
“Careful,” Tom says to you as your legs wobble. Meanwhile, he’s struggling to climb them as well.
After a few minutes of tussling and laughing, the two of you finally reach the second floor.
“So about that book collection,” Tom raises an eyebrow, catching his breath as he grabs you by the hips, bringing you close to him.
“Only if you really want to,” you look up at him, both your and his eyes glazed over.
“I do,” Tom runs his hands along your sides, his gaze heavy on you, “Lead the way.”
You walk ahead of him, pulling him into the guest bedroom, where the books do happen to be stored in a giant bookcase along the wall. String lights around the ceiling give a soft golden glow to the room as you approach the mass of books. Tom closes the door softly as he enters the room, walking up behind you as you trace the spine of one of your favorite books. Tom wraps his arms around you, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck gingerly. You melt into his chest, closing your eyes as he travels down your shoulder. Your dress has an exposed back, and Tom is taking advantage of it as Tom falls to one knee and continues kissing down your body. He delicately unties the silk ribbon holding the two sides of your dress together, pausing before allowing it to fall to the floor.
“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Tom says.
You turn around and walk to the bed, allowing your dress to fall behind you. Sitting down, you motion for Tom to come over to you. His eyes scan your face, avoiding your intricate and deep-colored underwear as he stands up. Tom stands between your slightly parted legs, and you move your hands to the lapels of his black blazer, pushing them open. He discards it from his arms and to the floor before pulling his t-shirt over his head. You try not to ogle at his perfect body, but your hands wander anyway. Up his abdomen and across his chest until you reach his neck, where you pull him down for a heated kiss. Tom lightly pushes you onto the bed, and you move to the pile of pillows to rest your head. He climbs over you, caging you underneath him. Before you can react, Tom pulls your legs up around his waist as he rests his body on yours. His lips hover over yours, his darkened eyes boring into yours much like they did the back of your head earlier in the evening. 
“Don’t stop,” you say, crossing your ankles behind Tom’s back.
Tom attacks your neck with hot kisses and soft bites, your hand grasping the back of his head. As his body relaxes into you, his weight presses you against the bed, and you feel how hard he is. You lift your hips to lightly grind into Tom, and his soft bite into your collarbone turns harsh in reaction. He continues downward, slipping his fingers underneath the straps of your bra and sliding them down your shoulders. You arch your back so Tom has the room to unclasp the band and remove the garment from you. He wastes no time resuming his kisses on your sensitive skin, avoiding the areas you desire his kisses most. You gasp when Tom lets his hand brush against your breast, his thumb circling your nipple softly. A small moan leaves your lips, and Tom glances up at you through his lashes to gauge your reaction. He admires how your eyebrows crease momentarily in pleasure, so he circles his thumb again. You moan louder this time, craving his touch without hesitance.
“Please,” you sigh, “Don’t hold back either.”
Tom hums in response before dipping his head down and enveloping your nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue teasingly. He rubs your other nipple with his thumb, simultaneously stimulating you. You whimper, heat from your still buzzed body rushing to your clit. Your hips roll in response, and you’re sure Tom can feel your dampened panties against his chest. He gives your nipple a sharp tug with his teeth before focusing on your needy core. He leaves an open-mouthed kiss on your clothed heat before removing your underwear. Still buzzed from all the alcohol earlier, Tom tries his best to be soft with you despite the pit of desire growing between you. You want him- all of him, and you want it now. And Tom wants you. Before you can speak, Tom’s warm mouth meets your folds, his tongue lapping at your arousal. You squirm from the sudden stimulation, but he stills your hips with his grip. A hand flies to Tom’s mussed-up hair as he plunges his tongue into you, his nose pressing to your clit. He inhales your scent, and it intoxicates him more than alcohol ever could. Shaking his head, Tom’s nose rubs against your clit perfectly as his tongue fucks you. Your whole body is up in flames, your fingers tightening in his hair. 
You’re muttering incoherent praises as you ride Tom’s face. He replaces his tongue with two of his fingers, your relaxed wetness allowing him to slip them in easily. They scissor against your fluttering walls as Tom sucks on your bundle of nerves. Your fuzzy mind keeps you from hiding how good his mouth feels on you, and your moans grow louder. His mouth leaves your cunt abruptly before reattaching to yours, silencing you immediately.
“Gotta be quiet,” Tom huffs against your lips, “People are still downstairs, love.”
You wrap your legs around him again, grinding yourself into his still-clothed cock. He’s the one to moan this time, slipping his tongue into your mouth and letting you taste yourself. You unwrap your legs and work to unfasten Tom’s trousers, pushing them down his thighs. He kicks them off the rest of the way, along with his underwear, as he continues to kiss you. You reach down between your bodies and palm Tom’s length, to which he groans into your mouth. You guide his tip to your entrance, allowing him to comfortably push into you. Your hands grasp Tom’s shoulder blades, your nails lightly digging into his skin with every inch that enters you. You whimper in pleasure at him finally being inside you after longing for it all night. Tom bottoms out with a content sigh, also elated at the feeling of you clenching around his length after craving it for so long. 
Your chests heave against one another, your forehead pressed to Tom’s. His enticing blue eyes meet yours as he slowly pulls out before slamming his hips against yours. You gasp, arching your back and letting butterflies swarm in your belly when Tom kisses the corner of your mouth. He fucks into you again, slowly building a steady pace. Your lips barely brush against Tom’s as he snaps his body into yours. Your buzz has now faded away, allowing you to feel him entirely sober. He sneaks his hand between you and presses his thumb to your clit, making you hiss at the sudden stimulation. Your head pushes against the pillows, exposing your throat. Tom lets his hand lazily wrap around it, not squeezing but instead holding it as he grazes his teeth on your skin there as he kisses your neck. 
“Feel so good around me,” Tom says dazedly, and you feel his eyelashes flutter under your jaw, “So gorgeous.”
Your hand rests in his hair again, gently combing through his locks as he rocks into you faster. His weight on you, his thumb still rubbing your clit, and his hand around your neck seals the deal for you as he plows into that sweet spot inside you. 
“Tom,” you moan, “I’m close.”
“Me too, baby. Me too,” he whispers into your skin, leaving soft kisses in contrast to his rough thrusts.
“You feel so good,” you mutter, your chin resting on Tom’s head.
Tom lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder, allowing him to hit a new angle inside you. You bury your face in his hair to deafen the cry that escapes you in response. 
“Right there,” you pant, your hands desperately holding onto Tom’s hair as your mouth hangs open in silent pleasure.
Tom breathes heavily into your neck, using all the energy he has left to mercilessly fuck your weeping cunt. You feel your stomach tensing, alerting you of your impending orgasm. Tom chants your name as he firmly presses his thumb into your clit, causing the tightly wound knot inside you to snap undone. Your thigh clamps into the side of Tom’s neck while the other shakes against the bare skin of his sweat sheened back. The feeling of your tight pussy pulsating around him makes Tom explode inside you with a gasp. You grip Tom’s hair desperately as you milk him of everything he has, his thumb still not letting up on your clit. Another orgasm washes over you suddenly. This time it makes you convulse, your cunt gushing around Tom and dripping down your thighs as you cry out in pleasure. 
“Fuck,” you gasp for air, Tom pulling out of you.
He moves down to your pussy, cleaning up the cum spilling from you with a hungry tongue. You’re so sensitive that your thighs slam into the sides of Tom’s head. He suckles your clit for a moment for good measure, making you writhe underneath him. You pathetically whimper when he pulls away, finally catching your breath. Tom returns to his previous position on top of you, his face buried in your neck. He wraps his arms around you, softly stroking your skin. 
“Wow,” you giggle, letting your nose dig into Tom’s brunette hair.
“Yeah,” he smirks, “You’re amazing.”
“That’s all you, I’m afraid,” you say.
Tom hums, “I disagree, sweetheart.”
He rolls over momentarily, lifting the duvet for you to climb under. He embraces you again, holding you close as if you’ll disappear like some sort of dream. You wrap your arms around Tom’s, smiling as he presses his nose to your hair. 
“I still haven’t put my finger on it,” you say after a moment of silence.
“Hmm? On what?”
“That something about you.”
“I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out, then.”
“Deal,” you chuckle, “Merry Christmas, Tom.”
“Merry Christmas, beautiful.”
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taglist:
@barbaraelaine @devotedly-sassy @nowitsmissing @arzua10 @screamqueenpink
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bluetimeombre · 3 months
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⭒❃.✮:▹Call it what you want to, part 4!
[finally!! Here’s part 4, sorry it took so long to get up, I’ve been working on many other things that I want to share. Hope you like this one, the next part will be the final FINAL]
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liked by... tchalamet, florencepugh, zendaya, tomblyth, tayrussell & others
yourusername: happy birthday tchalamet!! one of these days you'll bring back lil timmy tim. see you soon!!
1.1m likes 603k comments
user: 'see you soon?!' they're happening!
user: yourusername being the biggest timmy tim fan is the best thing ever
user: i love them
tchalamet: thank you daisy, my daisy
yourusername liked his comment
tchalamet: can't wait to see you
user: ur honour, they're in live
user: HE CALLS HER MY DAISY LIKE THEIR CHARACTERS IN WONKA IM DECEACED
user: hate to be tom rn
user: catch up, they're not together
user: they're not!?
user: happy birthday timmy
user: she's so sweet, urg love her
user: parents
user: i LOVED WONKA
user: isn't timmy in new york and she's been seen alone in london? does that mean they're going to each other
user: we are being fed
user: i swear he was just with kylie
user: they're so cute, you can tell timothee is so in love with her
⭒❃.✮:▹
timothee chalamet is texting ... you
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⭒❃.✮:▹
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tchalamet posted on his story…
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Caption, 28!
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liked by … tomblyth, joshandresrivera, tchalamet, zendaya & others
yourusername: nyc, treat me kindly xoxo
903k likes 655k comments
user: cute!!!!
user: dying rn
user: they’re together for the new year!!! r u kidding me!!!
user: looks like we know what timmy has planned for new years
user: PLS THEYRE so cute
user: no hate to my parents or I’ll kill you
user: mom, I’m going back to dads house
tomblyth: is that my shirt?
yourusername: u mean the shirt you LITERALLY gave me, stfu
user: not together my ass!!!!
user: tomblyth and yourusername all the way
user: she went to new york for his birthday and for new years, she’s in love with him
user: tchalamet and yourusername >>>
user: her and tom are so cute but as friends
user: her and timmy are literal goals
⭒❃.✮:▹
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user: GUYS!!! LOOK AT THEM AHH, tchalamet and yourusername at his apartment in New York! They’re so IN LOVE
101k likes 45k comments
user: WHAT
user: what about Tom :(((((
user: she basically just lied in her vanity fair to make herself not look like a whore
user: slut
user: awwww I love them
user: she’s leading tom on
user: she was literally making out with tom like two months ago
user: how could she do this?
user: timmy needs to leave her
user: save timmy!
⭒❃.✮:▹
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liked by…. yourusername, tchalamet, rachelzegler & hunterschafer
tomblyth: if you don’t have anything nice to say about one of my favourite FRIENDS then kindly shut the fuck up
1.3m likes comments restricted
⭒❃.✮:▹
taglist: @darlingisntit @hazzapotter @gotta-go-now @lucy-loaf @drewskeyyx @ennycutie @sparklingsounds @hoely-maria @callsignwidow @kodzuvk @dangelnleif @coconut-dreamz @destrolid @hermionelove @popejar @yesimwriting @slytherhoes @peachesandmon @zunin-msty (thank you all for enjoying it!!!!!
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darknight3904 · 5 months
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It Burns For You
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.
"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears
A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.
"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask
He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.
"I already ate it." He lied
"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.
"Is it your first day?" He asks
"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said
Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.
You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words
"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."
The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.
"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.
"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said
Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.
"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "
And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.
"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.
Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.
He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.
"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds
"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.
"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says
"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks
He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.
"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."
His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.
"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."
Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.
He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,
"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"
He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.
Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.
"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking
You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.
"What're you doing?" You ask quietly
"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.
The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.
"Coryo...what was that?" You ask
"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip
"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask
"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."
Part 2 is out now!
Series Masterlist
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ghostfacd · 5 months
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SASSY MEN DO IT BETTER! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which yours and tom’s behind the scenes gossip session goes viral and everyone’s dying to know who’s it about
AUTHOR’S NOTE. thank you to whomever requested this, nonnie i love you! this was so much fun to write and instead of Instagram posts, I decided to do tweets this time! enjoy as always and thank you for the overwhelming support on my au, it means so so much
installment of this au (recommend reading for context)
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It started off innocent.
Just you and Tom in the background of a Behind The Scenes video where Rachel was currently talking about her character, Lucy Gray Baird.
You and Tom were fairly close in proximity—as you always were anyway—and you two were scrolling through your phones, showing each other funny videos or pictures of beautiful places that showed up on your feed.
That was until a message popped up from your ex, some jerk who had somehow gained a role in a movie and thought he was now some hotshot in the film industry.
“Oh seriously,” Tom mutters, watching as you tapped on the messages your ex had sent you. “He’s got to be kidding.”
Your ex had apparently “missed you greatly” and wanted to hang out so you two could catch up. He said he watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and was in awe of how well you acted. If he wasn’t such a toxic asshole when you two were dating, you would take it as a compliment.
“I don’t know where he has the nerve.” Tom says, giving you a disgusted look. “Like girl, please.”
“Girl please?” You say, giggling as your head fell back into his chest. “Baby, I didn’t know you said things like that.”
“There’s plenty of more where that came from,” he says, “Okay, I need to stop. What if someone on set thinks I’m crazy?”
“They already think you’re crazy.”
Tom rolls his eyes, shoving your shoulder back slightly. “You’re lucky you’re my girlfriend.”
“I think you’re more of the girlfriend in the relationship Tom,” you say, shrugging. You fail to hold in your laugh as you watch Tom’s expression turn into shock. “I’m kidding, thank you for being the best boyfriend I can ask for.”
He grumbles a sure whatever under his breath when you engulf him in a tight hug.
“You’re practically crushing my lungs.” He says a minute in, only to be responded with a roll of your eye. “But hey, I’m much better than that newbie actor ex of yours, right?”
“Is that even a question?” You say, pulling away. “He was just nonchalant and mean to me half of the time. Don’t know why I even dated him.”
Your phone goes off, another message coming from your ex. “Oh, he called you knock off Draco Malfoy, which by the way, isn’t even an insult because he doesn’t even come close to you or Draco Malfoy in terms of looks.”
Tom lets out an honest to God laugh at your commentary, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, but didn’t you have a huge crush on Malfoy as a kid?”
You pretend to think for a minute before nodding your head teasingly, “yeah, I guess things never change huh?”
“Okay stop, you know I’m a fake blonde.”
And the entire moment between you and Tom is captured on camera, sending your fans into a frenzy as they watched how cute you two were with each other.
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quicksilversg1rl · 5 months
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this man is taking over every fibre of my being and i HATE IT
i want control over my own mind again thanks!
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mazzywstar · 5 months
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i can fix him
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coryosbaby · 5 months
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we (8 billion people) are begging for dom fem reader and coryo dynamic. Why she always gotta be sub like my dom ass would slap the shit out of him ong
ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !
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Synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?
Content warning . power dynamics, loss of virginity, face riding, multiple orgasms, marking, sub!pussydrunk! Coryo, dom! Reader that’s a lil fucked up
notes: me when coryo has hair real . This kinda sucks I’m sorry
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When you see Coriolanus Snow, you see a desperate man.
A boy, actually. You see a boy. A desperate, handsome, power hungry boy. You can see it in the way he towers over his peers in a sort of fake dominance, the fauxness behind his sugary sweet words directed to anything or anyone in a higher position— some even directed towards you, when that blush isn’t flushing his cheeks with a feral intensity.
As the daughter of Dr. Gaul, it’s quite easy for you to advance some of your friends in their studies. You are not only her daughter, but in a position of power yourself. You know people— and Coriolanus knows that. You aren’t dumb. You can tell by his eyes, the empty, icy blue orbs not quite telling the truth.
Coriolanus, in a way, is just like you.
Maybe that’s what intrigues you so much about him. Besides that pretty smile, or those golden curls or those muscles that make you drool, you admire his determination. You know about his poorness (not all know, but some do, as Dean Casca Highbottom once quoted to him), and you know one will go far to satiate their own greed.
It’s just a matter of how far.
Coriolanus walks into your lab crying, one day.
Not obviously. It’s subtle, as you demand he sit down and take off his shirt so you can stitch up his wounds. Your hands graze it softly, and he winces.
“Does it hurt?” You ask him, even though you already know the answer.
He lets out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at the seat.
“Yes.”
An honest answer. He must trust you.
You hum, beginning to work on his wound with taught precision. Looking at him now, his jaw is clenching tightly and the boy is shaking so much you fear he might break.
“I killed someone.”
He states it in a remorseful tone, the tone of someone weak and pathetic.
“Someone in the games, if I’m correct?”
He turns to look at you in surprise, as if you didn’t have access to your mother’s decision of allowing him to walk in there and save his friend Sejanus. He says nothing, then. He sniffles, and cries silently.
“You know,” you state, beginning to stitch him. “I’ve killed someone too. Someone I needed to kill.” You smile, remembering the one time a student who was threatening to take your place mysteriously fell into the pit of snakes. “It was necessary.”
Coriolanus tries to stay nonchalant, but you can see the way his shoulders tense. He doesn’t say a word, so you continue.
“Was it necessary to kill the person you killed?”
He looks down at his hands. Caked with blood, knuckles drawn taught. You want to bite them.
“No,” Coriolanus answers slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”
Maybe there’s more darkness to the boy than you originally thought.
You speak to him in a much lower tone now.
“Maybe it was. You just don’t know it.” And then, “There are a lot of things certain people can do to get to the top, Coriolanus.”
Your insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. He moves his head to look at you.
“And what would that be?”
Typical. Someone so power hungry that his head turns at the mere mention of an opportunity. You’ve got him right where you want him.
You finish up his stitches. You move around to his front, your short red skirt all of a sudden incredibly suffocating as he looks up at you with something utterly pathetic in his gaze.
“How far are you willing to go, Coriolanus?”
And that’s when, a few moments later, you get your wish: that skirt, oh so suffocating, is strewn on the floor, Coriolanus’ big hands massaging the skin of your thighs as you straddle him. Your lips press against his in a hot and heavy kiss, your tongue massaging his lips with fervor. He may be doing this for advancement, but the blonde wants you nonetheless. You can see in the way his hips grind up, the way he lets out desperate whines as you lick up his tears with your tongue. Pulling away from him, your cunt clenches when he tries to push your body down onto his crotch.
“No, Coryo,” you demand, though your voice is desperate. “I want you on the floor, okay? You’re going to taste me first.”
He hesitates, his eyes darting to your lacey panties and then to the colorful tiles.
“… the floor?”
He seems nervous, jittery. It’s not as if he’s afraid of getting dirty, or something.
No, this is something else. In the way he nervously twiddles his fingers, the way his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. It’s not as if he wants to stop— it’s more so that he’s inexperienced.
And then it hits you.
Coriolanus snow is a virgin. This big handsome boy, beautiful and delicious, has never done had sex before. He’s never felt the touch of a woman, never eaten pussy or got his dick sucked.
And for some reason, that makes you want him more.
“Oh,” you coo to him, soft. “Coryo, you’ve never done this before, have you?”
His face turns dusty pink, but he tries to deny, deny, deny.
“What? No! Of course I’m not. I’m just..” he looks at the floor, his lie clear on his face. “The tiles are cold. Dirty.”
“You’re caked with blood and sweat, sweet boy. I’m sure the tiles will be fine.”
He looks away from you, his lips drawn up into a pout.
“I’m not a virgin.” He states, merely to himself. You raise a brow, an amused smile playing on your lips as you move farther away from him.
“Then why don’t you come and eat my pussy, baby?”
His cock strains against his zipper, and you swear you can see it twitch from where you’re standing. He gulps, and with a submission you would’ve never expected, the boy drops to his knees on the tile and makes his way towards you. His shirt, unbuttoned, shows the pretty lines of his chest and his rippling back muscles, and when he gets to you, he stops at the front of your still standing knees. Satisfaction wades through you when his hands move up to the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with shaking hands. Your smell hits his nose, makes his head tilt back as he lets out a throaty sound in the back of his throat. His tongue laves over the skin of your inner thigh, his hands going around the back of one of your knees to pull you close. You spread your legs to allow him access, your pussy lips drenched with arousal as his breath laves over you.
“Go on, Coryo,” you urge. “You want me to put a good word to my colleagues, yeah? So you better do a good job.”
He moans, his tongue finally slipping in between your folds as he tastes you. He’s messy, sloppy, and it’s good but it’s not good enough.
“God. I thought you were experienced? Huh, Coryo? Don’t you wanna make me feel good? Are you even fucking trying?”
He pulls away from you, shame in his eyes as you scold him. He pleads, his lip wobbling, his arms holding onto your legs.
“Please, I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry. Teach me, please…”
He tries to press a kiss to your cunt, but you kick him away with your foot. He falls to the ground, helpless.
“Lay down—I don’t care if it hurts your back. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
He does as he’s told, all sweet and sweaty and bloody. His back hits the tile, injured but he ignores it when he watches you tower over him. You move down, pressing your knees on either side of his head. He grabs your thighs to place his mouth back on you, but you grab his golden curls in your hands and yank him back. He groans in pain, his feet kicking in a sort of pleasured resistance.
“You use your mouth when I tell you to, coryo,” you scold, watching the way his eyes flutter and only focus on your dripping pussy. “You do what I say. If I guide your head, or press myself down at a certain spot, you go along with it. Do you understand me?”
He nods, desperate to get his mouth on you, his cock thrusting into the open air.
“Good. Now, go slower. Stick out your tongue.. wider… therrre you go, baby.” His eyes focus on that one spot, his tongue hovering right over your clit. He must have read up on this a time or two. You press him closer, shoving his face into your heat as his tongue hits the swollen bud. “You see that? That’s my clit. Yeahh, stick your tongue right there…”
He groans, the taste of your sweet slick making his eyes roll back. His palms splay across your ass, digging crescent moons into the skin. You move your hips in a circular motion, giving Coryo the impression to move his tongue that way. He’s a smart boy, so he knows exactly what you’re communicating to him. His tongue moves in slow, languid circles, your slick already dripping down his chin. You can’t help but give into the pleasure he’s giving you for a moment, riding his face like your life depends on it before slowing down and stopping.
“Good, coryo. You’re being such a good boy. But you need to move your tongue down. You don’t want to play with my clit too much, because I’ll cum quick if you do.”
He makes a noise of understanding, moving his tongue down to your hole. It’s much funner this way, he thinks. The tip of his tongue can gather up the awaiting slick that’s spilling out of you, it makes your taste all the more prominent. You give him some room to experiment now, letting him move his tongue in between your clit and your hole. He catches on, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was experienced now— he’s a natural learner. Your hips grind down into him, and when he tongues your hole you use his strong nose to grind lazily against. Coryo can only breathe in your slick, his brain becoming fuzzy from his lack of air. But it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s doing good.
You can feel yourself getting close, the languid strokes of his tongue making your legs shake. You hump against his mouth, your head thrown back.
“Gonna cum,” you say to him. “Gonna cum on this slut mouth.”
He groans, his jaw working even harder now. He focuses on your clit more, save for the few times that he slurps up the slick from your hole. Your orgasm is fast approaching, your body drawing up tight.
And finally, you’re cumming on his mouth, moans spilling from your lips and Coryo’s. He’s desperate to catch all of your cum onto his awaiting tongue, his legs still moving around as he consumes you like a man starved. Your eyes roll back and you grind your hips against him as you come down from your high. Coryo pulls away once he’s satiated, looking up at you with his chin coated in slick.
You sigh, pulling your hips back to give him some air. You move your body off of him, going to your knees to watch his pussy drunk face still follow your cunt as you move. You want to return the favor, now. It’s only fair.
But looking down, you notice a wet spot soaking through Coryo’s pants.
He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking from his crotch to you. He flushes, apologies spewing from his wet lips, shaking his head.
“I tried not to. I really, really did. ‘M so sorry.”
He tries to reach out to touch you, but you just move away and down to his crotch. You unbutton his jeans, and he lets you. You look down at his red briefs, watching the white stain peeking through.
“Oh, baby. You just couldn’t help, it could you?”
You mock him, your hand palming his shaft. He lets out a whimper, his head falling back against the tile. He knows it’s too much, but he isn’t stopping you. You pull his briefs down, and boy is he big. Thick and long, all pretty and red with cum dripping down to his balls. Your mouth waters, but you figure that can wait another day. His seed can be used for other things.
You flutter your lashes at him, your hand wrapping around his shaft, jerking him to hardness again. He’s got this look, contorted and pained and pleasured at the same time. You straddle his meaty thighs, your cunt lips brushing over his cockhead, and he gasps.
“W-Wait—“ he starts, choked. “It’s.. ‘S too much—“
“Then why are you hard again?” You tilt your head at him, your movements paused because he didnt give you full permission. “Don’t you want my warm, tight pussy? Don’t you want to make it to the top?”
And that gets him going, his arousal for you and power and riches. He nods, eyes rolling back as you sink down on him. The cum from his last orgasm coats your walls and makes it easier to fill yourself up, warm white streaks dripping down his cock again.
“Oh.. oh my god,” his mouth drops open, and you’ve never heard a boy so vocal. “Please… I want it, I want it!”
You know what he’s asking for. Your stilled hips are non moving, letting him stretch you and sit heavy inside your cunt. You smile, moving your hips just a bit, letting him feel your gummy walls sucking him in. His mouth is in the shape of an o, his hair messy and disoriented. He tries to grab your tits, your hips, and with a surprising force your palm strikes his cheek haughtily. He cries out, his thighs shaking, his hips thrusting up.
“No touching,” you demand. “You don’t get to do that. Give me your hands.”
He lets you take them, and you push them far over his head as you begin to work your hips harder, faster. His balls make plop plop plop-ing noises as they hit your ass, quivering and begging for you to let them empty inside you. You move down to his neck, leaving purpleish bruises over his skin, marking him as yours. You let go of his hands so you can rest your hands on his torso, and his hands move up. Not necessarily to touch, but to hover over your tits bouncing through your tight fitted shirt. You give him permission, just a moment, to squeeze the soft skin in his hands, give them a teasing, bold little slap. You breathe shakily, his cock filling you up in ways no other has. You watch as Coryo’s head tilts back, and you know he’s close.
“Gonna cum?” You taunt, your nails scraping against his chest. He groans, nodding. “Gonna fill up my tight little pussy? Cmon, give it to me, I know you want to.”
And when he spills into you, rope after rope of warm, hot cum filling you to the brim, you let out a cry. His fingers find your clit— he’s thought this through, hasn’t he? He rubs you until you’re seeing stars and clenching around his overstimulated cock with a loud sob. He moves up to kiss you hot on the mouth.
“Did I do good?” He asks.
You smile, your hand threading your hands through his hair as you both relax against each other.
“You did very good, Coryo. I’m so proud of you.”
He breathes out a chuckle, shoving his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he winces. His wound has been withstanding a lot of pressure.
“You probably want to put some ice on that.” You suggest to him. He shrugs.
“The tile was cold enough.”
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shellxrls · 5 months
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SFW
lovedrunk!snow who loves to fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent to lull him into a restful sleep. freeing him of the paranoia that you might leave him in the middle of the night.
lovedrunk!snow who wraps his entire arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, burying his face into your hair and peppering kisses along your hairline.
lovedrunk!snow who ignores his capitol duties in favour of letting you sit in his lap and tell him about your day.
lovedrunk!snow who lets you call him an assortment of cutesy nicknames - "babe", "coryy", "coryoo", - that he would rather die than hear coming out of anyone else's mouth.
NSFW - mdni | 18+ content cw: explicit smut, unprotected PinV, breeding kink, cockwarming
lovedrunk!snow who fucks you sloppy n dirty against whatever surface he can find, desperate to get his hands on your hot skin and ravage you with his mouth, his fingers and his cock.
lovedrunk!snow who lets you dig your nails into the muscled flesh of his back and claw red and raised marks because he wants to be able to carry lasting reminders of you with him.
lovedrunk!snow who prefers fucking you in missionary bc that way you get to lay there all pretty, hair spread in a halo, while his abs tense and he fucks into you as hard as he can.
lovedrunk!snow who'll let you ride him just so that he can bottom out every time and watch your combined fluids dribble out onto his pelvis and stick to each other with every thrust.
lovedrunk!snow who wants to breed you - "ah f-fuck baby im gonna cum inside you, 'm gonna push all this cum deep inside, you're gonna look so beautiful pregnant."
lovedrunk!snow who lets you cockwarm him when you wake up in a restless fit, holding your back tight against his chest while he does his work.
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its3nvy · 5 months
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"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy" Billy the Kid
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Summary: After drawing the wrong kind of attention at the saloon, Billy comes to your rescue. Having to pretend to be his for the night, which leads to a ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’ situation ;) 
Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), porn with no plot, angst, size kink, riding cock, overstimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, slight knife kink
Note : This is my first time ever writing smut and I haven't edited it a lot so this should be fun. (Tell me if it's good or not pls)
tags: f!reader, smut
word count: 3.7k
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Curiosity led you to the local saloon one evening, where Billy often engaged in poker games. The air inside was thick with the smoky residue of cigars, and the occasional clinking of glasses underscored the distant melody of a forlorn piano. As you pushed through the creaking doors, your presence hung in the air, drawing the gaze of rough patrons whose eyes bore into you with a kind of familiarity you had never known. Unaccustomed to the bold gazes and suggestive comments that swirled around you like a threatening storm, you sought refuge at the bar. A man behind it was taking someone’s order.
You looked around, your eyes finally found Billy's familiar frame, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, engaged in a high-stakes poker game.
“Hello, darlin’,” a drunken man stumbled toward you.
“Hello, sir,” you gave him a small smile, trying to avoid his intense stare.
He leaned against the bar to keep his balance. “Come on, darling, don’t be such a prude. Talk to me.” His hand reached up, attempting to caress your face.
From afar, you saw Billy, his eyes—usually mischievous and full of life—met yours with a fleeting recognition. Without uttering a word, he rose from his chair, his cowboy boots echoing a heavy cadence on the worn wooden floor.
The drunken man's intrusive advances persisted, his slurred words creating an uncomfortable tension. "Don’t play hard to get, honey. I can show you a good time," he insisted, his hand becoming more insistent. Ignoring the drunkard, you turned back to the bar, hoping for intervention. The man persisted, his persistence turning aggressive. As his hand encroached upon your personal space, a shadow fell over you. 
Billy's presence loomed, his gaze colder than the steel of his revolver. Without a word, he grabbed the man's hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “Leave her alone," Billy's voice cut through the clamor of the saloon, his words echoing with a subtle menace.
The tension escalated, a palpable undercurrent surging through the room. The patrons, sensing the imminent storm, shifted uneasily. Billy's eyes held yours, a silent reassurance amid the brewing chaos. The drunk man, now confronted by the notorious gunslinger, stumbled backward, a mixture of recognition and fear contorting his expression. With a final warning glare from Billy, he slinked away into the crowd.
Billy turned towards you, his eyes softening as if to assure you that the storm had passed. 
"What in the hell are ya doin’ here?", he murmured, his tone both gruff and concerned as he reached you, seizing your hand and guiding you to the quiet side of the room. "I needed to go out, Billy," you replied, your voice carrying a note of defiance and desperation.
He hissed, a trace of irritation etching lines across his rugged features. "You can’t. You gotta go home. These people here are dangerous," he warned.
"And you don’t think me leaving alone would be dangerous?" you shot back, your gaze a defiant challenge to the protective facade he wore like impenetrable armor.
"Shit," he conceded, his irritation mingling with a begrudging acceptance of your undeniable truth. "Alright, I’m finishing up my round, and then we can go," Billy relented, his tone an admission of defeat. "But you play along with me, ok? If they don’t think you're claimed, they'll see you as fair game," he said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cut through the smoky haze, demanding an unspoken oath.
“Ok,” you huffed out.
He pulled you towards his table with a rough yet oddly comforting grip, a silent acknowledgment that, for a fleeting moment, you were to be sheltered from the men surrounding you as long as you stayed with him. "Wait," he murmured, his hand lingering on yours. With a swift motion, he removed his hat, worn and weathered from a life on the precipice.
You extended your hand to stop him. "Billy, you can’t," you insisted, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the implications of his gesture. “You know what this means.”
"That’s the point," he declared, his crooked grin returning like a bittersweet promise of protection. As he placed his hat on your head, it became a proclamation, an unspoken claim made before the watchful eyes of everyone present, and a promise of a heated night that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.
"Now, c’mere," he commanded, pulling you towards him as he settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap. You bit on your lips, a mixture of anticipation and fear, the heat rising to your cheeks as the proximity between you tightened like a coiled spring. This was the first time Billy had been so close, and the magnetic pull of his presence ignited an unfamiliar fire within you.
He looked up at you as you bit your lips, his gaze a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.
As he resumed his poker game, you felt his breath against your neck. "Pass me the whiskey, doll," he asked.
You leaned against the table, inadvertently pulling your hips tighter into his pelvis, sensing his hardness between you. His hands reached out against your hips, gripping you and keeping you still. "Careful," he warned against the shell of your ear, his breath raising goosebumps along your neck, a sensation that heightened the electrifying energy between you.
As you handed him the glass, he took a swig, and then, with a deliberate slowness, leaned down against the side of your neck, planting a lingering kiss. "Thank you, doll," his gravelly voice murmured, the aroma of whiskey lingering in the air.
Billy's fingers grazed lightly along your waist, sending a cascade of sensations through your body. His gaze met yours once more, a silent invitation lingering in his eyes. It was then that you became acutely aware of the speculative glances from the patrons, their curiosity fueled by the undeniable connection unfolding before them.
The weight of Billy's hat on your head felt like both a shield and a beacon, marking you as his amidst the prying eyes of the saloon.
The night passed on and as the final hand of poker concluded, Billy rose from his seat, still holding you close. "Wrapping it up for the night, boys. See ya tomorrow," he declared, his voice a mix of weariness and determination.
He grabbed your hand, guiding you out with a certain urgency. The saloon doors swung open, thrusting you back into the harsh glow of moonlight. As you stopped in front of his horse, he turned around and said, "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone? You know how they treat women here."
His words cut through the night air, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on his rugged features. The distant sounds of revelry from the saloon formed a dissonant backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.
You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his eyes. "I just wanted to have one free night, Billy. Just one," you replied, your voice carrying a note of desperation. Billy's jaw clenched, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers lurking in the shadows. "This ain't the place for that, especially not for someone like you," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening as if to emphasize the point.
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened resolve etched into his expression. "I can't have you wandering into places like this, doll," he continued, a trace of vulnerability underlying his gruff tone. "It's too damn dangerous."
Billy sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the tension in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice softened. With a final glance back at the saloon, you moved towards his horse. As you approached, he placed his hands on your hips, lifting you onto the horse with a gentle yet firm touch. You instinctively grabbed his forearm for support, your eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy. 
The ride home was a silent journey through the cool night air, the rhythmic hooves of the horse creating a steady cadence. You sat in front of Billy, the warmth of his body enveloping you, his strong arms encircling your waist as you traversed the dimly lit trails. 
As the horse navigated the uneven terrain, Billy's embrace tightened slightly, offering both stability and reassurance. His chin rested on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck, and in that intimate proximity, the weight of your unspoken desires lingered like an invisible thread weaving through the darkness.
Arriving at your doorstep, Billy helped you dismount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Your eyes met, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between you. He spoke, his words a whisper carried away by the night breeze, "Be more careful, doll. This world ain't kind, especially to those with a heart as tender as yours." He placed his hand against your cheek, caressing it lovingly.
"Billy," you responded, the ache in your voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and longing. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, his touch a hushed plea for silence. "Go to sleep, doll. I'll come by tomorrow morning," he whispered, giving you a kiss on the forehead, turning away.
"Billy, wait," an urgency surged within you, desperate to find a reason for him to stay. You took off your hat, intending to return it to him, a feeble attempt to anchor him in the moment. “Keep it. I prefer it on you,” he remarked, a bittersweet acknowledgment that stirred emotions too complex to unravel.
Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward him, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around the hat, a palpable tension filled the space between you. His intense blue eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting. 
Closing the distance, you reached him, and, without hesitation, pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a desperate plea, an attempt to convey the emotions that words couldn't capture.
Billy's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of the hat, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.
"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.
You approached your lips to his cheek, giving him a slight peck, when you heard him whisper, "Fuck it." His lips crashed to yours, hungry, hot, and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. His hand came up, cupping your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss as he slicked his tongue inside your mouth.
“Come, let’s go inside, yeah?” He asked. You nodded at him, as he gave you a quick kiss, ushering you inside, “good girl.” And in an instant, he’s moving toward you, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you to his chest. You press your lips to his and moan at the taste of Whiskey. His tongue slides over yours in slow strokes that make your cheeks warm, but it’s when his teeth nip at your bottom lip that a whine escapes. 
His rough, calloused hands drop to the cusp of your neck, gripping your hair just tight enough to make you hiss. You arch into his touch as he starts to explore your body, mapping out every dip and curve. 
“Billy- Please… do something.” He moans a response into your neck as his lips slip down to leave love bites along the column of your throat. 
Eager to feel you, Billy tried to pull at the strings of your corset, but to no avail. It was too complicated to remove in the dark, and with the emotions aptly blinding him, Billy had no patience to try.
In the dark, you heard a flick of a knife, and you felt a cold tip of the blade against your skin before Billy’s voice comforted you, “Be a good girl and don’t move, ok?”
A rip ran through the air as Billy sliced your corset in half from the back. You stayed perfectly still, trusting him completely to cut the clothing off of you without harming you at all. The moment Billy had cut your corset, he dropped it to the floor and pulled your top off with it.
He immediately lets his hands drop to your breasts, nipples already pebbling from the cool air. He pinches and pulls at them for only a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your stomach.
Bilily stops just above your hip bones, “May I?” he asks, blue eyes peering up at you. “Yes. Billy, please.” You beg him, voice thick with desperation. He chuckles and then rubs his hand over your throbbing clit. He slides one, then two thick fingers into your dripping pussy. A whimper bubbles from your swollen lips as he pulls back to spit on your heat. His fingers curl, digits stretching and scissoring inside you. Your head feels like it’s spinning, arousal leaking from your cunt and down Billy’s fingers. 
Your hips are unable to escape his assault on your g-spot when he pins you down, and you let out a moan you hardly recognize as your own. “Shit, you’re so wet.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he smiles down at your fucked-out form. 
Billy’s hand never slows, even as he grinds his palm into your poor clit. You cum not long after, waves of pleasure crashing over and drowning you in euphoria. Your body is trembling as you come back to Earth and Billy is there, watching you from between your thighs. He places a kiss on your sensitive clit before he stands back up, towering over you. 
“Please. Fuck me, Billy.” You say through heavy breaths. He feels his head spin at the sound of your voice. 
“Whatever you want, doll.” 
Billy lays you across the couch and crawls over you, leaning back to release his aching cock from the confines of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of him, pre-cum drips from his flushed, red tip.
He fists his cock at the sight of you below him, lips parted and breasts heaving. Billy leans his body over yours, trapping you between him and the cushions below you. You can feel the muscle covering his torso press against your tummy. He ruts his cock through your pussy, the head catching on your clit deliciously. You both moan at the feeling and link your fingers together. 
“Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’m gonna make you all mine”, Billy coos down at you, searching your face for any hesitance. You nod at him, earning you a keen smile and a quick kiss. “It’s gonna hurt, doll, I’m sorry.” Squeezing his hand, you hold your breath when he lines himself up with your entrance.
You gasp when his tip slips into you, already feeling like he’s split you in two. Salty tears start to well in your lash line at the burn of Billy’s cock stretching you out for the first time. He’s much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin. 
“I know, I know. Just breathe.” He tries his best to comfort you, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your cunt around him. His heart stings at the sight of you crying for reasons other than pleasure, but he can’t help it when his hips buck, pushing himself another inch deeper.
Billy knows he should feel guilty for liking the way you screw your eyes shut, the way your cunt flutters around him even though he’d worked you open already. He’s not even halfway inside you and your legs are trembling around his waist while he holds himself back from pushing in balls-deep. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest at the effect he has on your body. 
Billy’s hand leaves yours and drops to your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb. Your mouth opens into an “O” shape and your sloppy cunt grants him another inch.  He can feel the velvet of your walls drawing him deeper, euphoria building in your veins. With every circle drawn, Billy pushes in further and further until he’s finally buried to the hilt. He stills for a moment, letting your cock-drunk mind play catchup with your body. “I’m gonna move, is that ok, doll?”
He pulls out, making you whine at the empty sensation, then, he’s driving his hips forward again. You loop your arms around his neck as he attacks your insides. Any words you have die on your tongue as Billy sets a rough, passionate pace. His tan skin, covered in old and new scars, feels slick against yours as his cock splits your mind in half. You can feel Billy everywhere, you can taste him, touch him, smell him, see him. He’s completely overwhelmed your senses and given you nothing to think about other than him.
The air around you is humid and thick, the scent of sex swimming through it. Billy slips in and out of you with ease, the clear strings of your slick and his pre-cum coat your pussy lips like a gloss. You let your gaze fall on him, watching how his brows furrow with concentration while he molds your insides into the shape of him.
Billy lifts your hips in the air to get an angle that allows him to hit even deeper, pumping his cock into you so hard that the air is forced from your lungs. There’s no one else you could want, no one else who could ever make you feel like this. 
“Shit Billy. I’m so close.” You moan, a familiar warmth starting to coil in your tummy. He nods and slots his lips against yours for one final kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his dick strikes your g-spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. You cum hard as every nerve in your body is set aflame. His hot, sticky cum floods your walls and leaks from around his cock. 
Silence lies thick in the air aside from your heavy breathing and the soft kisses you share. Billy leans back to peer down at where you’re connected and shakes his head at you. 
He picks you up and places you over his hips, leaning you back. “Can’t waste this, doll.” He tuts at you, gathering the cum leaking from your abused pussy on his tip and pushing it back in. Throwing an arm behind his head, a fucked-out grin crosses his features as you sink down on his cock, letting him rub against your most sensitive spots. A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat as he slowly pushes back into the deepest parts of your cunt.
His tongue darts out to lick the sweat off of his cupid’s bow, large hands moving to slide down your hips to grab at the fat of your ass. He guides you up and down on him as you babble and cry.
“I’ve got you, doll.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your cunt flutters around him, “Fuck Billy’-” you cry out.
Billy groans at the sight of a white ring around his shaft, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight… taking me so fuckin’ well.” He bucks his hips, tip grazing your g-spot just right, just enough to make your eyes roll up into your head. “C’mon, doll.”
He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan and hiccup as he pounds into you, only slowing when you clench impossibly tighter around him. Stars are dancing in your vision and pleasure is burning in your veins. You hear him swear again, he lets his head fall back onto the cushions and plants his boots flat on the floor. You nearly scream as he fucks back up into you. He’s growling something in your ear, but his words sound so far away. 
“Cum on my cock, doll. C’mon, do it. Do it for me.” Billy babbles in your ear as he loses his rhythm, now just slamming his hips into yours with all the force he could muster. Your arms are clinging to his neck and he has you trapped against him. White, hot pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks as you squirm on Billy’s lap. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he pumps his hot, sticky cum into your womb. 
He lays back on the couch, letting you rest against his chest.  With a tender touch, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair. His lips lingered for a moment. As he pulled back, his fingers began to stroke your hair slowly, each caress a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.
“From now on, that hat stays on you, doll. Let everyone in town see you belong to me."
send me billy thoughts or requests pleaseee :)
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kafkasmuses · 4 months
Text
innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.
tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment
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coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.
he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.
what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”
“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”
he clears his throat, “sorry?”
“do you—“
“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“
“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.
you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.
“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”
he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.
loud incorrect buzzer.
he doesn’t!
coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.
“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.
he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”
“cocaine,” you swallow.
“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”
he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.
you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”
he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”
“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”
he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”
a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.
“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.
you bat your lashes at him, “what—“
“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.
you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”
he nods, “‘m positive.”
“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.
you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”
“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.
“good girl.”
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.
sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.
isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.
a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.
sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”
coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”
“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”
“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”
arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.
sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.
coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.
he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.
festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.
coriolanus heard his sex is never good.
funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.
coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.
what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.
coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”
you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”
“princess?” festus snickers.
coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”
coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”
festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”
coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”
your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.
festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”
his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.
“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.
“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.
so you do.
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.
“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”
“sometimes—“
“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”
it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.
“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.
his tone is softer now, “why?”
“i didn’t know—“
“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”
you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”
your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”
his lips drop to a frown, “why?”
your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”
“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”
“what? why not?”
“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”
“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.
“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.
“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.
you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”
then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”
“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”
“that’s okay—“
“—i’m bad news—“
“—i don’t think that—“
“—i’m dangerous, doll.”
you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”
he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”
you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.
“you know how to chop up cocaine?”
you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”
“i’ll show you.”
and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”
he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”
“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.
“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”
“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.
he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”
you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”
your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”
“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”
“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”
“do you want it?” you pause your movements.
“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”
you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”
“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.
you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”
you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”
“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”
he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”
he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.
to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.
yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”
“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?
the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?
he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”
he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”
“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.
“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”
of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.
his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”
“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.
“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.
he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”
his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”
“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.
it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.
it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.
how cute.
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.
you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”
he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”
and it’s true, you really were special.
you were a dangerous man’s doll.
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slutforsnow · 3 months
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This man is SO HOT I CANT-
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Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayjedi @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings
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floralcyanide · 5 months
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― 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗 (nsfw)
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⌯ pairing: sub!coriolanus snow / dom!gn!reader ⌯ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), nipple torture, cock torture, use of vibrator, use of restraints, anal sex (m receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), overstimulation, crying, aftercare, lack of safeword ⌯ word count: 1.8k ⌯ summary: when your partner is bratty earlier in the day, you ensure he gets the utmost torturous punishment. ⌯ author’s note: I literally wrote this in an hour and a half idk what happened I was probably possessed by the writing demon again kskskssk anyway thanks to @goosita and @virgosjukebox (for being unhinged with me in the gc) as well as @coryosbaby (for writing such tasteful sub!coryo and inspiring me to write a subby man again) I hope ya'll enjoy (: (btw I didn't proofread I just hope and pray it flows okay lolll)
divider credit: @arminsumi | @firefly-graphics | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.
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Not once did you think that the image of Coriolanus Snow lying in your bed tied up with blood-red silk restraints and his hardened, desperate cock leaking onto his pretty red lacy underwear would come to fruition. But it has. And the adrenaline rush is coursing through your veins heavier than the fast-growing arousal- your senses heightened when Coriolanus gives his restraints a tug, a whimper leaving his swollen lips. He’s pleading with you with his eyes, usually a cold blue, but now they’re so dark you almost can’t decipher his irises from his pupils. They shine with threatening tears from the dull ache in his abdomen.
You’re perched on Coriolanus’s thighs, tracing along the silk ties around his wrists that are raised above his head. You’re just as desperate in wanting him as he is in wanting you, but Coriolanus has been an impatient brat today, so he will be punished accordingly. Before he can react, you press your palm against his length, making the blonde squirm underneath you. 
“Please,” he whispers, his hips jerking up into your hand.
“Please, what? Use your words, Princess,” you continue to palm at his cock through the red panties, the wet spot of precum growing.
“Please touch me,” Coriolanus manages to say, his mouth drying up the more you tease him.
“Good boy,” you smirk, running a finger underneath the waistline of the red underwear, letting it come in contact with Coriolanus’s rock-hard shaft.
Any contact whatsoever at this point would send him reeling, but he fights the urge to cry from lack of direct stimulation. He’s growing impatient but knows what you’re capable of if he tests your patience. You slowly drag the panties down his thighs, lifting yourself from his lap as you push them the rest of the way down his legs with your foot. Coriolanus kicks them off, groaning when his cock slaps his lower stomach. While he was too distracted, trying not to let the sensation of his tip throbbing get to him, you perch back on his thighs, a new contraption to try on him enclosed in your hands. While Coriolanus has his eyes closed, you take the opportunity to attach a clamp to one of his hardened nipples, the burning pinch earning you a yelp of surprise. When you attach the other one, Coriolanus begins breathing heavier than before, almost uncontrollably wiggling beneath you. 
“Behave, now,” you warn, leaning over his chest to get close to his face, “Or I’ll bring out another toy.”
Coriolanus shivers, nodding and gritting his teeth as he wills himself to stay still. You stare into his pitiful eyes as you tug on the chain of the clamps lightly. He squeezes his eyes shut, tensing every muscle possible to remain in one place. But with another tug, more or so a yank, the feeling of his nipples being played with makes him jerk his hips again. 
“Coryo,” you shake your head, tutting at him, “What did I tell you?”
“‘M sorry,” he pleads, “I won’t do it again, please!”
“I know you won’t,” you say, reaching behind you for your other contraptions, “Let’s see. Which punishment sounds better? A cock ring or a nice vibrator, hmm?”
Coriolanus tries not to glare at you, but he knows his attitude earlier in the day warranted this. He just wants to cum so badly that if he could come out of the silk, he’d take you on this bed like a rabid animal. Instead, he focuses on breathing properly before nodding toward the vibrator.
“Ah, an excellent choice,” you grin, pressing the power button before settling on a lower medium setting.
You guide the wand around Coriolanus’s body, letting it trail around his stomach and hips, just close enough to his desperate cock to piss him off a little. Moving to his thighs, you squeeze the taut muscle there, letting the vibrator move closer to where he wants it. Coriolanus gasps as you glide the wand’s head over his balls, letting it sit there as he whines again.
“Feel good, baby? You like it when I play with you like this?” you tease, letting the vibrator explore the space between his balls and his hole for a moment, making the blonde cry out.
You bite your lip at the raspy sound, torturously moving the vibrator upward until it’s at the base of Coriolanus’s painfully hard length. You pull on the nipple clamp chain again, the sensations of both sensitive areas being toyed with making him begin to tremble.
“I wanna cum s-so bad,” Coriolanus pants, “Please, please, please.”
“I’m not quite finished with you yet, Princess,” you frown, removing the vibrating toy from his cock and turning it off briefly, “Open up.”
Coriolanus obeys and opens his mouth, allowing you to place two fingers on his tongue before closing his lips around you. He groans as he sucks the digits, trying to muster up as much spit as he can to coat them with. When you’re satisfied with how wet your fingers are, you pull them from Coriolanus’s mouth. He doesn’t even need to be asked what to do next as he already spreads his legs open, waiting for you. You reposition yourself so you’re laying on your stomach between high thighs, pressing your cheek into the apex of his right one. You spread his asscheeks only a little, given his legs are as open as they can go. Pressing one fingertip to his asshole, you carefully prod it inside, taking your time not to hurt Coriolanus. He breathes in and out, relaxing into the bed as your digit slowly enters him further. When you’re all the way in, you curl your finger and the blonde moans loudly from above you. 
“You’re being such a good boy, Coryo,” you praise, pumping your finger in and out of him tantalizingly, “Taking my fingers so well.”
Coriolanus is grunting as his cock grows harder, a second finger sliding into his hole to stretch him more. When he adjusts, you fuck him with your spit-coated digits, using your other hand to reach up and yank the clamp chain. You simultaneously tug the chain in the same rhythm as you’re finger-fucking Coriolanus’ perfect, tight little asshole. He’s near full-blown tears at this point but is too lost in pleasure to do anything about it. After stretching him out enough, you decide he’s ready for the next part. The sound of the vibrator coming back to life forces Coriolanus out of his pleasure-filled daze. The feeling of your fingers leaving him and his hole gaping around nothing makes him start to actually cry this time. 
“You got this, baby. You’re so close to being able to cum, I promise,” you say, stroking the skin of his thighs as you nudge his asshole with the tip of the toy.
It effortlessly slides in, Coriolanus letting out a long, throaty groan as his back arches. For a few moments, you allow him to adjust to the feeling of the vibrator inside him before thrusting it in and out. The moans the blonde is letting out are pornographic, and they only grow louder when you finally, finally, wrap your lips around the tip of his needy cock. Your warm, wet mouth sends Coriolanus into another place. The sensation of the vibrator being turned up higher and the back of your throat hitting his tip almost sends him over the edge. Almost. You sit up, removing your mouth from the blonde’s length before turning around to face away from him. Before Coriolanus can process anything, you lower yourself onto his impossibly hard cock. You’d been prepped beforehand, so he sheathes inside you without a hitch. Slowly gaining a rhythm, you begin bouncing along his length, fucking him with the vibrator at the same time. Coriolanus has now become entirely incoherent- his jaw slack in unbridled pleasure as his brain is clouded with overstimulation. He’s openly crying and moaning as you clench around him, his orgasm begging to be released.
You gasp, his hips managing to buck up enough to hit that sweet spot inside you, “Are you gonna cum for me, Coryo? Think you’ve been punished enough?”
Coriolanus just whines in response, letting himself only be able to thrust into you and grind against the vibrator the best he can. You feel yourself getting close, and with one harsh grip on his balls from you, Coriolanus finally feels the tight band in his stomach snap. A raw, throaty cry of pleasure erupts from his throat as his hips jerk uncontrollably into your tightness, his hot cum spurting inside you. The feeling of him filling you up tips you over the edge, causing you to clench around him with a vice grip, milking him through his almost never-ending orgasm. You help him ride it out by turning the vibration as high as it can go, and you can feel him grow hard inside you again. 
“Fuck,” Coriolanus seethes.
Watching him get worked up again makes you pathetically cum one more time, your walls brutally squeezing his cock into another earth-shattering orgasm. Coriolanus gasps for air as you turn off the toy and gently remove it from him. As slowly as possible, you lift off his now softening length before removing the clamps from his chest. Coriolanus’s eyes are closed, tears staining his cheeks. You give him a soft kiss to one of them before untying the silk restraints and running to a nearby closet to retrieve some towels. Quickly turning on the bathtub faucet in the next room, you let the water warm up before plugging the drain and adding some bubble bath to the tub. When you return to the bedroom, Coriolanus is still limp on the mattress, his breathing more steady than before.
“Think you can make it to the tub, love?” you stroke his face, moving some of the sweaty hair from his forehead.
Coriolanus hums, nodding with his eyes still closed. He rubs his palms over them, letting those baby blues flutter open weakly. He lets out a deep exhale before meeting your eyes.
“You alright?” you ask, a little concerned you did too much.
“I’m fine,” Coriolanus mutters, giving you a small smile.
You manage to guide him to the bathtub, letting him settle in the bubbly water with ease. Joining him, you help him clean off. Once the water becomes too cold to handle, the two of you dry off and climb into bed. 
“Sorry for being a brat earlier,” Coriolanus says, his face nuzzled into your neck, “It will happen again.”
You chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, the both of you embracing under the covers, “I know. But I’ll be ready to take care of that attitude next time, too.”
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taglist:
@barbaraelaine @devotedly-sassy @nowitsmissing @arzua10 @screamqueenpink
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harrysfolklore · 4 months
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tom blyth being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation
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this was inspired by @astranva’s famous blurbs, love you and miss you novs <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
It seemed like the entire world was crushing on the same man: Tom Blyth
Unfortunately for those who watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and came out of the theater in love with the man who played Coriolanus Snow, he was happily taken and loved to talk about his girlfriend any chance he got, which lead to fans making several compilations about the times he was a simp over his girl.
The most popular video was a 10 minute and 33 seconds compilation, which had around 445k views.
It started with Tom's interview with Good Morning America to talk about Billy the Kid, the interviewer asking about how he prepared for the role.
"It was during the pandemic, like any actor during that time I was just hoping that the world came back to normal so I could start making a cent," everyone in the set laughed at this, "I was living with my girlfriend YN in a barn house and we were like chopping wood every morning and visiting my friend's ranch. So when I got the part I kinda felt like I was ready for it."
"Your girlfriend, you say," one of the interviewers said making Tom smile right away, "Did she help you prepare for the role too?
"Of course she did, she's my biggest supporter ever."
The video moved to show some behind the scenes of Songbirds and Snakes footage, Tom dressed in his peacekeeper costume and dancing around while Rachel recorded him.
"See this moves?" he got closer to the camera, "I used them to charm my girlfriend."
"And I doubt they worked." Rachel laughed behind the camera.
"She loves me so I'm pretty sure they did."
The next thing shown was Tom sitting next to Hunter as they did an interview for Rolling Stone, the crew just asked about their thoughts on Olivia Rodrigo's single for the movie.
"I love Olivia Rodrigo," Hunter cheerfully said, throwing her arms up to the air, "The new album is so good."
"I'm a big fan as well," Tom joined in, "My girlfriend YN, she's obsessed with her, plays her songs all the time."
"Just so everyone knows, YN is like the coolest person ever," Hunter said, making Tom smile, "She brought us snacks on set so many times, such an angel."
"She's the best."
The following footage was Tom and Rachel's rapid-fire questions with Vogue.
"Can you guess where this is from?" Rachel asked holding up a card that showed a zoomed in picture of a suit.
"That's my Prada suit from the London premiere," Tom asked confidently, Rachel confirming that he was correct, "My girlfriend YN loved that suit, that's why It's one of my favorites."
"Oh I miss YN."
"So do I, so do I."
Next clip was Tom's interview Stephen Colbert, who just asked him if he was a fan of the books growing up.
"I was such a huge fan, I grew up watching the films. My mom and sister used to go to opening weekends to see the movies," the audience cheered at that, "Actually, for my third date with my girlfriend I took her to see the last movie, so getting to play a young president Snow is a real honor."
The video quickly moved to show the lat clip, one of Tom's interviews at the London premiere of the movie.
"Are you here on your own? No date?" The interviewer said once Tom finished answering the previous question.
"I'm here with my girlfriend, actually," his face beamed as he spoke, "She's probably somewhere taking selfies with Hunter, those two are like best friends."
"Is she close to your cast mates?" the interviewer asked again.
"Definitely, they try to steal her from me and I can't blame them, she's the best."
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ghostfacd · 5 months
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YOU CAN LET GO NOW ! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which tom blyth can’t let go of your hand after an intense argument scene in your film
installment of this au | your character and Tom’s lines in the film are written in italics
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“Action!”
Tom and you have probably been on your tenth cut by now, the scene was an argument between yours and his character, Balleona and Coriolanus. It was fierce and intense, filled with lots of angry yelling and a few tears.
Needless to say, your director was on both of your asses to make sure you got everything down perfectly, from the lines and hand movements to the crocodile tears.
“You can’t just expect everything to be okay Coriolanus!” You yell exasperated. You look up at Tom, who was currently looking down at you with a cold gaze. “You decided to cheat! You decide to risk your entire career for Lucy Gray, now you go sit with the consequences!”
Tom slams his hand on the table nearby, making you flinch back. “I had to! I did it for us! All of it! The rat poison—the scarf—I did everything for us! And now you repay me by yelling at me like a child?!”
You push Tom back with an accusing finger, eyes lingering with hurt. “You’re acting like a child Coriolanus Snow! I told you that my family has enough money, enough for you to go to university. But you just had to ruin the entire system, didn’t you? Is it Lucy Gray? The disgusting filth from District 12? Is she influencing you?”
Tom places his hand on your chin, grabbing it harshly, making you let out a whine.
“You don’t speak about her like that, do you understand?” Tom tightens his grip, making your hands come up to try to get out of his grasp. “Do you understand?!” He yells, causing you to close your eyes tightly.
“Let me go, you’re hurting me.” You say, “Coryo, let go, you’re hurting me.”
Tom’s eyes suddenly switched from anger to softness, and he lets go of his hold on your face. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
He brings you into a hug, letting you bury your head into his chest. “You know I didn’t mean it right? You know you’re more important to me than Lucy Gray—that’s why I did all of this. It was for you.”
You nod, letting out a few tears. Tom breaks the hug to hold your hand, his other one coming up to wipe them away.
“And.. cut!”
Tom stops wiping the tears that have fallen down to your cheeks, sighing in relief when the director says that they don’t have to redo the scene again.
However, he’s still holding tightly on your hand, nodding slowly at each of the words that come out from the director’s mouth.
“You okay?” You whisper to him.
“Hm? Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He reassures you, smiling down at your figure. “I’m a bit thirsty. Water?”
You smile and nod, letting him walk you two over to the water dispenser. He’s still holding firmly onto your hand, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your co stars, Rachel and Josh.
“Geez Blyth, do you always have such a possessive hold on our dear Y/N here?” Rachel jokes, smiling teasingly at you two.
You roll your eyes, looking up at your boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to hear Rachel’s words, instead, focusing on getting the two of you water.
“Do you want some Rachel? Josh?”
“I’m good,” Rachel replies, “and Josh is too. We were gonna head out to this smoothie place for our lunch break.”
“Ah.” With his free hand, Tom pulls you closer to him until you’re practically leaning against him. “Well have fun you two.”
Rachel and Josh say their thanks, but before they leave, Rachel slips by you, whispering “he’s stuck to you like glue, isn’t he?” in your ear.
You try to hold in your smile, butterflies filling your stomach. Despite shooting the scene 15 minutes ago, Tom was still holding onto your hand as if you were his lifeline.
“Hey babe,” you say, which automatically makes all the gears in Tom’s hand focus their attention on you.
“Hm?”
“How come you’re still holding onto my hand?”
He seems to be surprised at your words, glancing down briefly at your intertwined fingers.
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” He says, shrugging.
“Yeah,” you tease him. “Obsessed with me aren’t you?”
He rolls his eyes, but nods in agreement. “Just a habit I guess. I felt really bad for yelling at you so much in the scene and grabbing your face. I’d never do that in real life.”
You let out a laugh, making Tom furrow his eyebrows in confusion.
“Aww Tom,” you say, leaning into his chest with your head. “I know you would never do that in real life baby. It’s just acting.”
“I know,” he sighs. “I just hate arguing with you, whether it’s acting or not. Coriolanus is a loser for not realizing what he has, you know.”
Now that made you laugh even louder, “yeah, but Tom Blyth is a sweetheart.” You tippy toe to reach his nose, placing a small kiss on the bridge of it. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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goosita · 5 months
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coriolanus snow is not a good man— he watches you from afar, eyes like a hawk and plush bottom lip pulled between his teeth. he doesn’t know if he’s being obvious and he doesn’t particularly care. he feels his teeth clench when you laugh and chat with other men, something hot and unpleasant stirring below his ribs. it should be him that makes you giggle like that, makes your nose scrunch like a little bunny rabbit at a joke. jealousy stings and he finds himself having cruel thoughts about things he wishes would happen to those other boys.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— but you speak to him so kindly, so softly. he’s never once mentioned anything about his home life, careful to keep up his facade. but you? you notice the way his cheeks are hollow, the way his belt has extra notches punched into it to tighten further. you wordlessly slide him a granola bar in class and pretend you don’t hear the way his stomach gasps the way he refuses to let his mouth do. you bring him a tin of cookies you “had leftover” the night before, filled with chocolate chips and butter that will bring his calorie count for the day up. he doesn’t say thank you, but the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards and his gaze softens when you pass him a pastry under the school desk is enough thanks for you.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— his hands shake sometimes, when he remembers the way sejanus had cried for him to help at the hanging tree. when he remembers the sound of his only friend’s neck snapping and echoing, the way it sent chills down his spine and he felt like vomiting. he did that. he killed sejanus. he is a murderer, and yet you still brush his hair back in the middle of the night. its starting to grow again, pale locks falling over his brow. he is a murderer, and you still kiss his temple. you still whisper that you love him, that he’ll be okay.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— the sore in his mouth aches, a necessary evil to ensure your safety. he’d had no other choice, that senator from 2 was eyeing you all evening at dinner. for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t let it get to him. he’s a president now, not some unhinged teenage boy. but the way that man had touched you, let his fingers linger at your waist, that would simply not do. you are the first lady of panem, you were untouchable. to anyone but him, of course. as you pass by him where he sits, you tut softly and pause to brush the blood off his lip, licking the red fluid off your own fingertip and dropping a kiss to his head. you remind him to be careful.
but coryo is good to you— he touches you so carefully, hands so gentle. his fingertips are always cold, but it never bothers you. not when they brush against your hairline, his palms cradling your cheeks as he kisses you like a man starved. not when they graze the bare skin of your back, your chest flush with his as his lips make their way down your neck. not when they squeeze at your hips, your thighs splayed out around his own waist and trembling with the way he pushes his cock up into you. not when they caress your cheek in the morning, his soft whispers of “good morning, sweetheart,” echoing in your ears.
coriolanus snow is not a good man. but he is your man.
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