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#(<- I just forgot to add that one until just now)
startanewdream · 17 hours
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Rational, for today's @jilymicrofics
"Together," Remus repeats slowly. "You and Lily are going to Hogsmeade... together."
Remus purses his lips but he doesn't add any comment, his voice barely betraying a hint of amusement. James could always count of him for discretion — a quality that Sirius does not possess.
"So is it a date?"
James chokes, pumpkin juice spilling from his open mouth, face tinting of a deep red. Next to him and looking imensely undisturbed, Lily pats his back calmly.
"Be serious," is all she says.
"Oh, I was. Am. Cannot not be." Sirius is smirking and, unfortunately, far enough that James cannot kick his shin. "Some things just are—like two people going out on a trip, alone, just the two of them... that's usually called a date."
"It's not," Lily replies dignifiedly, even as, under the table, her hand traces James', drawing soft circles on his open palm. "You know we are Heads."
Sirius glances at the badge on James' robes, a familiar frown on his forehead. "As if I could forget."
James breathes again; he can do this silly banter and he knows his well-rehearsed line. "We need to escort the Third Years in their first trip today."
"And you are going together because—"
"It's rational." Lily hesitates for a heartbeat before glancing at James. Her voice softens. "We work better together."
And now her expression cracks for a moment; her sentence was innocent enough that it could mean all the time they spent together as Head Boy and Head Girl, all the plans and shifts, patrolling the halls, watching detentions, or all those infinite meetings that could have been owl mail. But when their eyes meet, James knows she is thinking about later: the innocent then not-so-innocent touches and lingering looks, and, later, the kisses they never pretend were innocent at all.
There is a smile at the corner of her lips now — one that challenges very much their resolution of keeping things low between them until, at least, after this first date — but luckily, no one else seems to notice it. James is quite safe that they've fooled everyone.
That's an illusion that's broken on the narrow street behind the Hog's Head, when loud claps interrupt a kiss that could never be considered innocent.
"You forgot a detail, Padfoot" Peter is saying, smirking. "Two people going out on a trip and making out—that's definitely a date."
"I don't know... Remus, you are the prefect. Snogging other prefects is a requirement?"
"Not that I've been informed."
"Right, or else I might have been more interested in the job."
"No, you wouldn't," James says, recovering his voice.
"Yeah..." Sirius considers it for a moment before winking at them. "So, Evans, remind me of how serious should I be."
"Oh, shut it," she says, sticking her tongue at him and refusing to let go of James' hand, something he is quite content with.
"We are Heads," he says, echoing her words. "After so many hours alone, it was only rational we'd end up snogging."
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iwaasfairy · 24 hours
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no cs omg fairy my big big brain is working !!
what if atsuko wasn’t an only child? what if he had a little brother who loved mom too?? sibling rivalry??
tw implied incest, jealousy, manipulative tendencies on ko WhATS new
if atsuko x mom!reader had an even more complicated situation
Ryota’s eyes are dragged from the pretty shape of the falling cherry blossom petals with a force greater than him. He looks over his shoulder, hands tightening slightly on the bike handles— just in time to avoid Atsuko’s attempt at slapping him in the back of the head. As he dodges, he pushes the meathead away by the arm, and kicks out his leg at his shin. “Heard you coming, motherfucker.”
“For once,” Atsuko grins when he still manages to land a mostly good-spirited squeeze at the back of his neck, and the younger man’s shoulders jerk up in protection. When he falls into step next to him, they both turn the last corner as the warm, evening sun makes harsh shadows. “Don’t you have volleyball training to get to, brat?”
“Don’t you have some teachers to bribe, dick?” He sighs. “Practice is canceled because our captain is home with a fever.”
Ryota’s dark eyes stay on his brother’s face when the grin curls up onto it. Of course Atsuko doesn’t falter. “Ah. My good name got you into school without a scholarship- you should be thankful.”
As they’ve grown older some of the edge has splintered away from the accusations, and now only a smooth surface remains. One that keeps the peace. One that doesn’t leave bad impressions. The older brushes his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face, before sliding his hands back into his pockets.
“Is Tooru getting mom anything for Mother’s Day?” Ryota asks after a brief break, and his brother just shakes his head.
“Well, except the usual… treatment on a holiday,” the lighter brunet’s mouth pulls into a slight line, absentmindedly scratching his arm, “I don't think so. No trip or anything at least, they just had their anniversary trip.” He doesn’t hesitate to swing an arm over his shoulder as he squeezes him under his shoulder. “And you can call him dad.”
That’s something he doesn’t feel the urge to respond to.
“Are you gonna do something?” He ends up asking.
The older man now frowns at Ryota, who raises a hand in flimsy protection. It’s not the first time he’s gotten into trouble for less. His arm slips off as soon as it came when he straightens up with a frown. Ko nii can’t truly think he’s subtle. No, in fact, there is no way that anyone with eyes can mistake it for anything else. Still Atsuko asks. “What kind of fucking question is that?”
“It’s a fucking question, anii,” Ryota bites back, frowning too now. It doesn’t last long before he forces it off his face though, seeing the house come up at the end of the street. You don’t like seeing them not get along— and for what it’s worth, when Atsuko’s not acting like a possessive tool, they get along fine. “D’you wanna do something with mom as a family?” He adds after a few seconds of silence.
Silence where Ko nii seems to mull his answer around in his mouth until it becomes acceptable to say, or maybe until the bad taste fades. He’s got a glint in his eye, and his mouth stays shut for too long. It’s almost like he’s debating just telling him after all. But the unspoken knowledge is enough, isn’t it? It doesn’t need to be more than that.
That way he can still pretend. Ryota laughs. “Right. Forgot you wanna have it be a private audience. Should I stay at someone else’s house for the day or can you control yourself?” Atsuko’s grin can’t be wiped from his face. If it was Ryota, he’d at least have some fucking shame about it.
It seems like that thought hasn’t even crossed his older brother’s mind. And without meaning to, he lets the slight sourness on his tongue fall out with a complaint, rolling his eyes. “You should probably re-learn about sharing. She’s my mom too-”
“Yeah?” The older basically skips a few steps ahead, before running his tongue over his teeth and grinning as he takes off towards their garden. “Too bad. If you wanted a bite you should’ve been born first.”
He makes a face. “That’s fucking gross, anii.” His bike clicks as he rolls it behind, and his eyes scan the green for you. Only one thing gets his brother that giddy- his eyes stop to run over you where you’re reaching up to the branches of the trees, and picking out some early apples. Atsuko tackles you into a broad shouldered hug, before picking you up under your legs and into him, and he can hear how your giggles echo the street. You look good, pretty. The sweetheart dress you’re wearing clings to your waist and with how Ko nii’s hands are glued to your ass, he does see it.
He’d have to be blind not to see it. You are pretty. You let Atsu kiss you on the mouth but pull back when the big fuck probably tries to slip his tongue in. Freak. Not that that stops the barrage of love the guy heaps on you as Ryota drops his bike onto the grass. You only pull away from where Ko’s pretty much biting kisses down your throat to aim your beautiful smile on him instead, and he can’t help but feel warmer when holding up his hand.
“Hi, ma.”
Your tangled fingers pull from Ko nii’s hand to reach out to him as you rush over on sandals and your love glitters at him when he gets close. It’s like a tidal wave that coats everything in heat, warm and soft and kind like you’ve always been. What Atsuko’s doing is fucked up, but he does get it. “Baby~” You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down, and he lets his hands clench tight around your waist.
“I missed you so much.” He doesn’t pick you up, or kiss you, or basically make out with your neck— and you place a loving kiss on his cheek before wiping your hands on your dress. “Thank you for coming home, I know you’re busy at school.”
“It’s really- it’s fine. Missed you.” He doesn’t mean to stoke the flame, but as he looks up through his lashes he meets eyes with Atsuko. Who’s chewing his bottom lip to get rid of the ever so slightly agitated grin— that only tightens when Ryota finds himself winding his arms around you a bit tighter. Enough to pull you off your balance and make you laugh, before pushing away as you look between them both.
“Do you guys want to take a dip before dinner?” The sun casts the pool in perfect dappled light. “I took a dip earlier and the water is just right~ if you get the chance.”
Atsuko only waits a second before he reaches his hand back to you to stroke his thumb along your neck, then pulls you in when he softly tangles his fingers into the base of your hair. “I’ll go if you go.” You don’t hesitate to brush that off and roll your eyes, but your hand still lands on the lighter brunet’s chest. His eyes shift to where the younger brother is still standing in the front yard, slips his hands into his front pockets. “Ryota wants us to do something for Mother’s Day in a couple days… Any requests?”
The hand that’s still on your neck now moves down your spine, lower, lower- until it traces over the fabric to brush along the edge. When you don’t respond, your face turns to his questioning, and a bit shocked. But Atsuko isn’t. “What about a repeat of last year, mom?” He asks, and drops his lips to your temple after a self-satisfied grin. “Maybe I’ll keep it a surprise for now. I know what you like.”
He shrugs as he walks away with you still left in your spot on the deck— taps the door frame on his way inside. “Ryo’s back, dad! I’m gonna give mom a massage in the master bedroom. She worked so hard today.”
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ohandcounting · 11 months
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!! ALERT !! ANDREW CUNNINGHAM BROKE DOWN ALL USES OF GASTER'S THEME IN DELTARUNE
youtube
If you don't know how to listen for things that aren't 100% obvious in music, like me, don't worry!!!! He puts everything side by side, hence the monstrosity in the thumbnail. He even uses the piano. There's even a 2-axis graph at the end!!!!
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justaz · 3 months
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god!merlin
druids can NOT speak in people’s minds. when they are before a high priestess, they can pray to her directly and she can hear them (hence the scene between morgana and mordred when he spoke in her mind).
merlin who constantly has this buzzing in the back of his head that he can never understand besides the occasional odd word which makes no sense. but when he’s closer to a druid or when their prayer is super strong, then he can make out what they’re saying.
merlin who brings up the fact that druids can speak into peoples minds to gaius who casually unfurls a scroll containing his ongoing list of reasons why merlin is/evidence of merlin being a god of the old religion.
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non-un-topo · 10 months
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More clothing studies, this time from my fic Axis. I was aiming for authenticity while also trying to have each of their personalities show a little bit in their clothing choices. Two for Nicky, to show his layers.
#tog#the old guard#for reference the fic takes place in 1625 in iceland. i still don't think they're bundled enough though lol.#nicolo di genova#yusuf al kaysani#andromache of scythia#no quynh :(#these were a n i g t m a r e to crop correctly. tumblr why are you like this.#hence the cropping might look a little weird#siggy draws#i think these sketches took a month and a half lol. now i will be quiet about this fic and focus on writing something else.#what do we think about this style? the differently coloured lineart and the slight lighting? and the rough colours?#also i forgot my siggynature on ALL of these but that's ok. you know who i am sdfghf#my new obsession is clothing details i guess!! could always make it more detailed though! with lots of practice i can try.#no real director's commentary on these drawings like i usually write for my sketches asdsfgfd#just that this is mostly what they wear in the fic. add a coat for andy maybe and some mitts for joe.#and more weapons and bags and stuff#can't really see nicky's braids but he's got one big french braid and a few tiny ones on the sides of his head connecting to it.#his hair is like shoulder-blade length. it's about the symbolism!! of not making a change for a long time!! until he does cut it!!#and andy is wearing quynh's necklace under her shirt of course </3#joe rolls his pantaloons above the knee for maximum movement (horseriding) and fashion (gay)#i have a crush on the first nicky sketch like he's so cunty for no reason#well. he's possibly supposed to be having a serious conversation/argument with andy#kudos to the ref picture i used of luca just standing Like That
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janiedean · 5 months
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will get to all your lovely replies asap but for now let me get down the mood with my usual
fuck but i really do hate this month and everything it represents or better the fact that each single year it gets just more miserable
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constantvariations · 1 year
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Back when I was watching rwby for the first time, I remember being so excited when I saw that random woman finding Cinder after she got her ass handed to her by Raven. I sat there thinking, "Oh man, this woman's gonna take Cinder in and be the first person to help her out without having an ulterior motive, which will cause Cinder to rethink her goals and motives and maybe even delve into why she has those in the first place. Then she'll start to heal and change for the better until something from her past comes back to bite her in the ass, causing the woman to either die or kick Cinder out, thus giving the crossroads option of falling back into old habits or continuing the painful path of healing despite having lost her only support"
And then literally nothing came of it
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lesbianlenas · 3 months
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ok the way that random classmates from my section keep adding me on linkedin i’m like wtf are u even doing hanging out on linkedin…..i’d legit rather die. like who goes on linkedin willingly….
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noesinferno · 1 year
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decided to try full shading again after years of not really fully shading anything. i'm pretty happy with how it turned out!
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deelovesbooks · 4 months
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ya know what no I'm going to actually finish one of the current wips rather than start a new one
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totallyblooktacular · 2 years
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lost your head
#before i complain for the rest of these tags i should clarify this isnt vent art or anything lol we're cool#the fuckin. entire creative process behind the initial idea for this to what it is now is. 📱💥#the idea came at first on account of connecting the dots between two song lyrics#but when i came up w designs that would properly call back to said songs i was like ...#well this would just kind of look like me n saltwater wouldnt it. so i said fuck it its them#or would be. bc ive also been sitting on this for months i didnt start it until like 2 days ago -_-#also i had to bust out 3d models for this and ohhh my god tryign to figure out how to a) pose them and#b) translate that into a sketch that would reasonably fit my normal art style took. foreever#i ended up sketching the pose out like 3 dif times before landing on the one that i went over for these lines O(-<#and then i Fucked Up the head tilt anyways its hardly even tilted its just kind of awkwardly offset from the neck#oh well. theres other compositions...#n honestly like i think aside from the head (the actual point of the piece ...) i honestly didnt do too bad#definitely most limbs and hands are all a bit janky but like definitely not as janky as they couldve been yknow? which is cool#also enjoy the faces those did turn out particularly well i think. so like that is swag too. but god this is underwhelming#im just sitting here like wow this one rules (still disappointed anyways)#one last tag ijust realized i forgot the hair curl. exploding myslef immediately now#anyways i have to add categorizations now..#my characters#myself#underneath the dock
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eternal-brainrot · 1 year
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i have been playing dress up with my plushies and made them new outfits hehe B) xie lians crown prince outfit is sooo pretty so i desperately wanted to make it!!! 
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technically didnt make hua cheng a whole new outfit but i made IMPROVEMENTS and finally added his boot chains (after almost a whole year of saying i would do so lol), and stitched the pattern on his belt and vambraces in metallic thread (it is metallic and shiny irl i promise ;-;)
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also random fun details i want to show!!!!!
hua chengs little braid!!!
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EMING <333
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he is holding a little felt silver butterfly on his hand hehe
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xie lians single earring (notice where the other one went hehe)
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ruoye!!!!!
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minqies · 11 months
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forgot to share my pulls yesterday !! i’m so lucky with pulls these days i’m kinda getting scared gkskfd
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anantaru · 5 months
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cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, semi public sex (in a library), he's insufferable, possessive (he's used to getting what he wants n wants you all for himself), a little yandere i feel like
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rich boy alhaitham has never experienced the idea of not getting something he so terribly longed for— in fact, the very moment he laid his eyes on you, desire flooding his veins and invading his taste, it's with immediate certainty that he will make you his no matter what.
because you see, it has almost always been that way for him, the idea of something being too expensive has never really crossed his mind in his adult years— although it was safe to say that in order to make you stay forever, he must add more than the couple gifts he had already planned to send your way, such wasn't enough, despite the fact that they certainly would make things a whole lot more easier for him.
because who on earth doesn't like a costly, with diamonds paired piece of earrings from fontaine? hand crafted of immeasurable worth. or would you rather choose the extravagant silken garments from the nation of electro? oh, you forgot already silly? you're of course, getting both, it's on alhaitham after all.
he doesn't understand that this emotion growing in his heart might become quite dangerous in the future, although again, the man was of smart kind, highly aware of the power he held not only with his fortune alone, but his cleverness as well— and there would never be a time in his life where he couldn't utilize the one or the other, or use them all together to get the result he planned to achieve.
dear, dearer, dearest you, alhaitham ponders, as long as the sun was alive, as long as desire merges with his addiction,
"i will pursue you".
alhaitham knows that from the bottom of his heart, he will make you his, and not just have you for a short period of time during those special days— where two people simply let go of steam, soft fingertips glissading over the edges of sweaty skin as you're wrapped around his fingers, the slight swell of your lips, the strong blush on his cheeks, both vividly showing that the two of you cannot keep your hands away from each other.
as expected, you find yourself hidden behind a bookshelf in the house of daena, and alhaitham kisses you like he has been imagining it for decades on end, soft lips dancing over yours as he forces his tongue past your mouth, his hands greedily skimming through your trembling figure— soul catching soul, like each touch of him felt like it was searing through you, burning your clothes.
there, in those precise rolls of fingers repeatedly crossing your sensitive nipples, alhaitham makes himself acquainted with your trace as he graciously feels around the curves of your body and how well you reacted to his touch, kiss and tremble— an immediate reminder for him that you like it when he touched you like that, lapped his tongue over yours like that or pressed his muscular thigh against your wet cunt like that.
alhaitham was cruel in a way— one might even go as far as to assume that pairing an excessively clever man with a boundless amount of money harbors a much darker meaning in on itself.
but right now, he was slightly cruel to you as well when it becomes more and more painful and he knows, he always does, especially when he notices how you're having trouble breathing from his antics, quite wobbly on your footing as you look up at him through soft eyes, lips parted when each kiss of him made your heart clench, unknowing of everything, only waiting until he finally fucks you like you wanted to.
what you do not realize is that rich boy alhaitham was already weak for you, and he could barely wait himself, his mind fighting with his rationality, being overthrown by nothing more than the addictive scent of your perfume blossoming across the skin on your neck.
he flips you around instantly, your figure now squished between his chest and the bookshelf before he flicks your skirt up with ease, almost territorial like he's the only one allowed to do that from now on, frenziedly touching and loving your body like he needed you to breathe and stay alive, like it's only you who can make him be this way.
"ahh— fuck," he gasps into the back of your neck, his hot breath planing across the skin and manifesting a strong shiver down your spine, "i love those earrings on you," as he trails off, your hips twisting and twitching when he finds them with his hands, repeatedly pistoling his thick shaft into you until the lewd, squelching noises of skin on skin were overturning your little whimpers, smack smack smack, it's only getting louder— so alhaitham uses one hand to quickly close one palm around your noisy mouth.
he thinks it's adorable how you forgot that you were still in a library, yet it only showed him that he was doing everything right, only a little more until you're all his.
the scribe has got you covered, okay? alhaitham needs you to realize that from now on, you have nothing to worry about anymore, so please get that into your pretty head! you're far too delicate and pretty to trouble yourself with something such as stress, not anymore— because wether it was intimacy you craved, love you sought after or money you needed,
alhaitham has got you.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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buckyalpine · 8 months
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Mob Bucky x virgin reader
18+
Mob Bucky x virgin reader 
If you’re wondering how bad my procrastination is, I started this in November. Anyway, I forgot to add some lines from a different fic here. There’s no plot here, literally just a scene I imagined. Please read the warnings. 
Warnings: dub con, degrading, virginity taking, innocence kink, mentions of blood, horny, feral Bucky is a warning, porn and little plot. Honestly, no plot. 
-
He knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you. Cute little sun dresses, beautiful eyes, your perfect lips, every single one of your delicate features making him crave to have you. He didn’t know what to do with himself the day he found out you were a virgin; you said it so quietly he would have missed it if you weren’t curled up on his lap. 
“My sweet innocent baby” He cooed, trying his best to contain his erection, desperate to fill you. “No ones ever touched you?” 
N-no” You shook your head keeping it buried against his neck while your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were told to wait until marriage to do anything so you did exactly as you were told. It hadn't been a problem up until now, your heart rate beating faster, squeezing your thighs together to make that feeling go away. He was intoxicating; rough fingers tracing over your smooth skin, skimming up to the hem of your dress.
“I-I can’t” You shook your head when he nearly reached your panties, his hand coming to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. 
“Why not, darling”
“We’re-um-” You fumbled with your fingers, choking on your words "We’re not married” 
“Is that all baby?” Bucky chuckled, kissing your cheek, “You know it doesn’t count if I just touch you sweets, would that be okay?” 
You swallowed thickly, knowing it was a bad idea to give into his temptations, the words of your mother and father screaming at you to behave yourself, that were omitting a grave sin, giving into lust-
“O-okay” 
-
“It’ll be more comfortable this way, darling” He reassured you as he spread you out on his large bed, all your clothes torn off while he stripped the last of his boxers before crawling beside you. Your eyes flicked down to his thick length, your stomach clenching as it bobbed between his legs while he settled himself. 
“You can look baby, you don’t have to touch if you don’t want to” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine when he caught you struggling to look away, your eyes now fully trained on the way a stick liquid was beading from the tip of his cock. He gently parted your thighs, moving to kneel in between them, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit making you squeak in surprise at the feeling. 
“Just your fingers?” You looked at him nervously with doe eyes as he gave you a wolfish grin. 
“Just my fingers love, you’re not doing anything wrong” He rubbed the side of your thigh comfortingly while he coated his fingers in your slick, pressing the middle one into your entrance. “Still such a good girl” 
You gasped at the gentle stretch, gripping onto the sheets when he slowly added another, pumping in and out of your pussy, groaning at the way your thighs parted further to give him better access. 
“Look at this little button” Bucky whispered, rubbing deliberate circles around your clit, watching the way you started to fall apart when he crooked his fingers, fingering you faster. Your moans were music to his ears, his other hand pulling your lip away from your teeth to keep you from silencing yourself. “C’mon, I know you feel it princess, you can cum pretty girl” 
“I-I’m gonna-Bucky-Please!-” The squelching sounds of your sopping cunt got louder as you came closer and closer to the edge, blinding pleasure finally pushing you off as you convulsed around his fingers. “Oh God!” 
“That’s it baby” Bucky slowed down, gently pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking when you cracked your eyes open again, sweat making your skin glisten. He was still kneeling in front of you, precum dribbling down his shaft, his balls achingly full while you shyly peered up at him through your lashes.
He was gorgeous. 
Gorgeous enough you’d want to-
No. 
As if he could read your mind. Bucky took your hand in his, placing your palm on his cock, nearly growling at how soft you felt compared to his rough hand wen he touched himself. 
“You can touch baby, you’re still my good girl” Bucky’s voice was breathless as you hesitantly wrapped your hand around his velvety shaft, stroking his heavy cock. He kept his hand over yours, jerking himself into your fist while his eyes raked up and down your body. 
“Let me touch you darling” He nearly fell forward when your thumb swiped over his slit, “Just let me rub it on you baby, it doesn’t count sweets, you don’t have to worry” 
“Are-are you sure?”
“Of course baby” 
He promised again while you bit your li hesitation before giving him a shaky nod. Bucky groaned, slotting himself between you legs, pumping his cock before rubbing it between you folds, his swollen tip leaking all over your already soaked pussy. 
“So soft bunny” He growled, throbbing when his tip caught against your entrance before rubbing against your clit again, “Feels s’good” 
“Bucky” You moaned in his ear as he started to hump against your pussy, slotting his cock snugly between your folds, his cockhead bumping against your clit with each thrust. “Bucky please” 
You weren’t sure what you were begging for, the feeling of him slipping up and down against you between the grunts and groans he made each time made your belly clench, your eyes growing wide when he was pressed against your entrance again, 
“Bucky-Bucky we can’t-” You looked at him with frantic eyes, his heavy body now fully resting on top of you while he continued to tease his cock, softly pressing against you.  
“That’s not what you call me love, you know better” Bucky had tested the waters earlier, loving how flustered and shy you got when he insisted you call him by something else, making you even more needy for him. 
 “But-were not married daddy” You whimpered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock starting to press against your entrance while he hummed with approval. 
“I won’t move love, just-just let me put the tip in, alright? Just the tip darling” He barely waited for your permission, breaching your hole as soon as you nodded, the sharp sting making you cry out in pain. 
“DADDY!, DADDY s’too much!” You shook your head as he kept pushing in more, stretching as if he were trying to split you in half. 
“I won’t fuck you, just wanna feel it” He gasped as soon as he was fully sheathed in you, your tight walls choking his cock. “Oh fuck angel, you’re so tight, make room for my cock baby, c’mon, let daddy fuck you baby” 
“It’s too big, it hurts” You cried out, squirming and withering on the bed, your legs squeezing and tensing around him while he brought his hand to wipe your tears, pushing away the strange of hair that clung to your forehead. 
“But you feel so good love, you gonna let daddy take your virginity baby?” 
“I-but-we-”
Bucky cooed at your stammering while staying fully buried in your cunt, precum already leaking. He pulled his hips back before thrusting forward making you squeal, his eyes locked with your as he started to fuck you. 
“Stop daddy!” Your nails clawed at his back pleasure, pain, shame, guilt, lust, one too many emotions flowing through you as he moved faster, his muscles tensing, rippling down his body. “Slow down, please!” 
“But you’re making daddy feel so good baby” Bucky groaned, lost in his own world, feral over how tight you were, how you pleaded for him to slow down, his cock was too much for your tiny pussy to take. He loved the way you hiccupped and choked sobs, your greedy virgin cunt sucking him right back in each time he pulled out.  
He was sure he could smell the light scent of iron in the air, looking down at where the both of you were connected, his shaft covered in your creamy slick. Spots of red stained his white sheets, but that only seemed to spur him on more, growling and pounding you harder. 
“Oh sweet girl, did I stretch you too much?” 
“It-hurts” You whimpered, clinging onto him, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying, you wanted to be so good for him but you could feel the pain radiating through your body, shame melting into pleasure as he drove his cock in deeper. He could feel his length swell, his balls starting to pull tight against his body when you bit down harder, the pain making him throb. 
“Gonna let daddy put his seed in you princess? Hmm? We’re not even married darling, are you gonna let my cock bust in you?” It was so wrong, all of it was so wrong but you were too far gone, too deep, your foggy brain caving, giving into everything you’d always wanted. 
“Yes daddy yes!” Your thighs trembled, squeezing tightly around his waist as the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit. Spots clouded around your vision as you clenched around his cock making it hard for him to move, your second orgasm ready to wash over you. 
“That’s a good slut, taking all of her daddy’s dick and letting him making a mess in her” He let out a dark chuckle as his hand came up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing the sides. 
“M’m-not a slut” Your whimper turned into a guttural moan as he pounded you with everything he had, the bed shaking, his balls slapping your ass. “Ah-AHh fuck!!” 
“Oh but you are baby, all naked and spread out on my bed, fuck princess, m’gonna give it to you so hard, m’gonna cum so fucking hard, shit-FUCCKK” Bucky roared, as bursts of cum streamed out of his cock, the feeling of his seed making you feel warm inside. “You’re milking my cock you slut, gonna milk my fuckin’ dry the way you’re choking me, go on and milk me sweets, take it all” 
You cried out as you came around his cock, emptying him for all he was worth. He wrapped his arms around you, keeping himself warm while you nearly passed out from pleasure, shuddering in his hold. He smirked at your fucked out state, pushing his hips up making you whimper, cuddling into his chest. 
“Rest darling, daddy isn’t finish yet”  
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casualhedonists · 5 months
Text
✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader
chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)
warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌
a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.
in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.
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You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.
He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?
You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.
Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.
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You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.
Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.
You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.
“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”
Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.
You considered.
“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.
You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.
“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.
“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.
You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.
You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.
You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.
This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.
“Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”
The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.
“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”
There was your proof.
The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.
You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.
“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.
“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.
A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.
“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”
This incensed you.
“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”
He spun around, frowning.
“I’m listening.”
“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”
“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.
“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”
“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”
You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.
“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”
“What would he like with them?” He asked.
“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.
“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.
That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.
“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”
You swallowed thickly.
Here goes.  
“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”
The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.
“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”
You sighed.
“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”
His face turned plum-red with horror.
“She was… stealing?”
In a way, yes.
“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.
“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”
You cut him off.
“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."
"Anything." He pleaded.
"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”
He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.
A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.
“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”
“Thank you.”
He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.
Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.
“Get what you needed, ma’am?”
“I certainly did.”
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The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.
They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.
You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.
But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.
You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.
Innocence. If only.
You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.
In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.
It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.
It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.
✩✩✩✩
As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.
For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.
You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.
The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.
Click. Click. Click.
You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.
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Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.
This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.
This was the moment of truth.
“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”
“Not who you were expecting?”
“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”
“Think I’ll pass.”
He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.
There it is.
There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.
“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.
“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.
“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”
“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”
You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.
“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”
“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.
“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.
“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”
“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.
“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”
You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.
“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”
“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.
He laughed, low, more like a scoff.
“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”
“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.
“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”
Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.
“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”
“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.
“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”
You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.
“I didn’t think you-”
“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”
You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.
“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”
Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.
“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.
“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”
Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.
Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.
“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”
He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.
“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”
“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.
“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”
Shit.
A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.
“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.
He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.
“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”
If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.
“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.
“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”
“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”
“You think I’d care?”
“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”
“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.
“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”
“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.
“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.
He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.
“Go on. I’m waiting.”
Cocky bastard.
Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.
“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.
Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Take it off.” He ordered.
“Gladly.”
You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.
“Like what you see, Snow?”
He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.
It made you feel powerful.
You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.
“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”
You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.
“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.
“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”
You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.
You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.
“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.
“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”
You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.
“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”
You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.
When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.
“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”
You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.
You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.
When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.
“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”
He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.
He’s allowing this.
The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.
Who’s on top now?
This was getting to your head.
“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.
“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.
“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.
As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.
“Which one was your favorite?”
You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.
You shook your head.
“Don’t.”
He smirked.
“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”
He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.
“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”
You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.
“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”
You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.
“Cocky much?”
He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.
“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”
“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”
Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.
“Beg me.” He ordered.
“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.
“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”
“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”
It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.
“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”
The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.
“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”
And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.
"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."
His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.
You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?
When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.
“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”
But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.
“No.”
He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.
“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”
You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.
“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”
You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.
“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.
“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”
“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.
“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.
“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”
You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.
Checkmate.
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a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌
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