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andydrysdalerogers · 1 year

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Sideline Love ~ Chapter 13 ~ Fatherhood

Pairings - NFL! Chris Evans and OFC Rebecca Rooney

Series Summary: All football player Chris wants is to play football with his best friends in the NFL. But the night before he meets someone who could change his life... if she wasn't the bosses daughter. Can Chris change her mind with a little sideline love?

Word Count: 2.5K

General Warnings: smut! angst, cheating, parental interference, fluff, football Chris has beard ( 😏 ), injuries during the game, special appearance (don't @ me lol)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Becca Rooney and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

I am trying out a taglist. Please let me knouw if you would like to be included.

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Sebastian, Chris and Charlie walk to the park the next week with Charlie swinging in between the men’s arms. “Daddy you and Seba are so strong. Can you swing me to the moon?”

“The moon? Why do you want to go to the moon?”

“So I can eat it. Mama says the moon is cheese and I love cheese!” She giggled as she swinged back and was launched in the air.

“What is your girl teaching her?” Sebastian shook his head. He turned and growled like a fake bear. “I’m gonna get you, papusa mica!”

Charlie screech and took off running towards the playground. “Daddy help!”

Chris charged in the lifted his girl up and put her on his shoulders. He ran, holding her legs as Sebastian jumped up to reach for her, their laughter filling the air. A phone rang and Sebastian stopped. He checked his phone. “I need to take it. Be right back.”

Chris trotted with Charlie on shoulders. “Daddy?”

“Yes, munchkin?”

“Does this other daddy love me?”

“I don’t know. You would have to ask him.”

“Is it wrong if I like him?”

Chris’s heart clenched. “Of course not. He’s your daddy.”

“You’re my daddy. And I love you but I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Momma says we shouldn’t hurt people’s feelings.”

Chris stopped and pulled Charlie down and sat her next to him on the bench. “I want you listen very carefully, Charlotte. The minute you ran into my life I knew you were special. I have loved you since our Oreo date. Nothing is going to change that. Its ok to like Tom, love him even. But you are my munchkin. My feelings won’t be hurt.”

“I love you so much daddy.” Charlie flung her arms around his neck and gripped him tight.

Tom came the long way around towards the playground and heard Chris and Charlie’s voices. “I don’t know him but I will try if its ok.”

“Charlie, you do what you want to do ok? Your momma and I will love you and support you in whatever you do. If you want to spend more time with Tom and his kids, we’ll make it work, ok? Don’t worry about this. Just worry about being a kid.”

Tom took a step back and decided to watch them from a distance. He sees Chris playing with Charlie in the park and sees that Chris is like himself with his boys. He watches as Chris makes sure Charlie is secure in the swing before pushing her, listening to Charlie’s squeals of delight. A wave of overwhelming sadness floods is chest. He missed it. The opportunity to have his own little princess. He decides to call his dad. “Hey pop.”

Thomas, everything ok son?

Did I blow this? Neglecting Charlie?

He could hear his father sigh and open and close a door. Son, only you can decide if you want to pursue this. She spent five years with just her mother. This is a huge change.

“Becca has a boyfriend, Chris, who loves her as much I should have. Charlie calls him daddy.”

Oh Tom.

“I missed it, didn’t I?”

Son…

Father and son stayed on the phone as Tom broke down. “Why didn’t I just own it?”

I don’t know. Your mother and I never understood why not. Giselle was going to leave either way because of your actions. And Rebecca has always said she just wanted her daughter to have a father. Is continuing this fight worth it?

A few minutes later, Tom had hung up with this father and called his lawyers. As he hangs up, he walks over to Chris, who is watching Charlie play with some other children. “Evans, can I have a moment?”

“What do you want Brady? I’m not supposed to talk to you. I’m just a supervisor.”

Tom looked at his feet. “I know. I just have a question.” He took a breath. “Do you love her?”

“Excuse me?”

“Charlotte. Do you love her?”

“I love her as if she was my own.”

“Ok, good. Please don’t tell Becca what I’m about to tell you. I want to tell her myself.”

*~**~*

The Steelers have a pretty good record coming in before Chris’s suspension. They had already secured a playoff spot but were now aiming for clinching the division. This game against the Bengals were crucial. One win and they had their first division title in almost four years. Chris arrived at the final practice before the game to observed as he had the last two weeks. He made sure that Josh was prepared, going over game tapes and plays. As he pulled over his sweater, Coach Tomlin yelled through the locker room. “EVANS! OFFICE! NOW!”

“Fuck me,” he mumbled as he shot a look at Sebastian and Anthony.

“Whatcha do now?” Anthony asked.

“Breathe? Who the fuck knows? Maybe Rooney is offended that I changed body wash,” Chris deadpans.

“I wasn’t going to say anything Evans, but I have the new bodywash an improvement,” Sebastian quips.

“Ah fuck off Stan,” Chris says with a chuckle as he makes his way to the head coach’s office. “You wanted to see me sir.” Chris notices that Coach Ben is also in the office.

“Take a seat.” Tomlin shuffles some papers on his desk. “We got a call from San Francisco.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, they are interested in trading for you. They heard about your benching and want to bring you on next season.”

“Oh well, I mean, I don’t really have a future here anymore.”

“About that.” Tomlin stood up from his chair and moved to the front of his desk. “I talked to Rooney and let him know that this needs to end. You are one of the best rookie quarterbacks I have ever seen. You were pro ready. I haven’t seen talent like this since Ben here.”

“I’m honored sir, really.”

“You should be. But the next time you are not dressed for practice. you will be fined.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go dress. You will be playing on Sunday. We have a championship to win. Dismissed.”

Chris walked out in a daze with Ben. “Is this really happening?”

Ben clapped his back. “The entire coaching staff basically threatened to quit if they traded you. You did nothing wrong except fall in love. You have been punished enough. Get ready and get warmed up. Need to shake that rust off of that arm.”

“Yes sir.” Chris jogged back to his locker.

“Chris, what did they want?” Sebastian asked.

“I’m playing. San Francisco called to ask about a trade and the coaches lost it. Rooney caved and I’m playing. So, I gotta change and get out there.”

“I knew it would work out in the end,” Anthony said. “Had faith the whole time.”

“Right, what was it you were saying a few days ago? Something about Chris being the biggest idiot of all time.”

Chris raised his eyebrow at Anthony. “What? I mean you almost gave all of this up for a girl.”

“Not just a girl. My soul mate.”

*~**~*

Rebecca came into Chris’s house later on that night, throwing her keys into the bowl by the door, shaking the cold rain off of her. “Babe! Monkey! I’m home.”

“Momma!” Charlie ran over to her mom and Becca lifted her up for a hug.

“Hi Monkey! How was your day?”

“It was good. We learned the numbers and I’m practicing in my workbook. Daddy is making dinner. He says we have a cell-bration tonight.”

“Oh do we? Well, let me see what I can do to help.” She carried Charlie back to the kitchen where Chris was stirring something. “Hey baby!”

“Hey Angel!” He leaned down to give her a kiss.

“Whatever you are making smells amazing.”

“Short ribs and mashed potatoes. Like 20 minutes.”

“Sounds good. Do I have time to change or…”

“Go, relax. I’ll have a glass of wine for you when you’re done.”

“This is why you are my favorite boyfriend.”

“Excuse me? I believe I am your only boyfriend.”

“Yeah, in my mind, I am also mentally dating Sidney Crosby and the guy who plays Thor.”

Chris turned to Becca with a predatory glare. She takes a step back. “Oh really.” He takes a few steps towards her. He cages her in. “Can those guys do this?” He leans down and kisses her right behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“Chris, I…”

“Or this?” He lets his fingers drift under her skirt. He looks to see Charlie and grins to see the little girl preoccupied with Dodger. He turns back to Becca as his fingers skate over her mound on top of her underwear. She moans low. “So wet already love.” He pulls back.

“Shit, Chris.” She grabs the countertop to steady herself, her knees ready to give out.

“That’s what I thought.” He kisses her softly. “Later love. But go get relaxed. I have some news I want to share, and dinner is almost ready.”

Becca left the kitchen in a daze, heading up to their shared bedroom. With all the changes they were anticipating, Becca had put her house on the market. She and Chris worked on getting Charlie’s room ready. Becca had a lot of her clothes here since this was where she and Charlie now spent the most time. She washed her face and changed into some leggings and one of Chris’s hoodies, the air now chilly and crisp in mid-December.

Heading downstairs, she watched as Chris got Charlie in her booster. “Ok, I’m comfy. Where is my wine?”

Chris chuckled and handed the large goblet with red wine. He took his own beer. “Cheers love.”

“Cheers.” She sat in her place with Chris at the head of table. He served and they started to eat. “My god baby, this is amazing.”

“Its yummy daddy.”

“Thank you, ladies.” Chris swallowed his mouthful. “So, I got called into Tomlin’s office today.”

“Really? Good or bad?”

“Well San Francisco called about that trade we talked about.”

“Well, that’s out of the bag.” Becca took a sip of her wine. “What did Tomlin say?”

“That I would get fined if I showed up at practice again not dressed.” Chris smiled with a twinkle in his eye as he watched Becca let the words sink in.

“Does that… you mean… you’re playing?”

“One PM Sunday babe. Was wondering if maybe my favorite girls will come out and watch me play?”

Becca leaped up and sat on Chris’s lap and hugged him. “Baby I am so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Angel.” He sighed as he breathed in her scent. “Apparently, the entire coaching staff was pissed about the call, and they all went to talk to your dad.”

“I hadn’t heard a thing. I’m so excited for you.”

“Me too Angel.”

They finished up dinner and cleaned up. Chris took Charlie up to bed for a story and cuddles, with Dodger hot on his heels, while Becca washed the dishes. Chris came down and wrapped his arms around Becca. “I’m gonna splash and get all wet Chris.”

“I like it when you’re wet.”

“Chris!”

“What? Charlie is out for the count. And there is a reason why we put her in the far bedroom Angel.” He started to kiss her neck. When he couldn’t reach the skin he wanted because of the hoodie, he grasped the bottom and lifted it over Becca’s head. She just had a cotton camisole underneath, and he could see that her nipples were peaking. “Cold or horny Angel?” he asked with a smirk.

“You better touch me Chris.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll give you blue balls.”

“That’s evil Angel. Are you my fallen Angel now?”

“Fallen? Not yet.” She let her hands trail down his chest and under the elastic of his sweats. “But I could be.” She dropped to her knees and pulled him free. She pumped him with a few strokes as she looked up at him. His beautiful ocean blue eyes were blown dark, and he licked his lips in anticipation. Becca smirked before taking just the tip in her mouth and suckled on it.

“Fuck, Angel, that’s so good.” Chris tried to restrain himself from grabbing her hair and pulling her in. He hands gripped the counter behind him as Becca continued to bob up and down on his length. She pulled herself long enough to say, “Its ok baby. Take control.”

It was all he needed. He gathered her hair into a ponytail in his fist and used his other hand to guide her. “Just like that, Angel.” He wasn’t rough with her, just provided enough guidance to get her worked up as well. When he felt that familiar tingle, he pulled her away. She whined at the loss. “I don’t want to cum in your mouth Angel. Need to feel you around me when I let go.”

Becca smiled as he lifted her onto the counter. “But I gotta make you feel good first.” He reached for the waistband of her leggings and swiftly pulled them off. He got to his knees and kissed her legs, listening her to sigh in delight. As he got closer, she started to run her fingers in his hair, “Chris please.”

“So impatient my love. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He placed a kiss right over the apex of her thighs and then let his tongue taste his beloved. She keened and mewled as he began to work her opened. As she thought it couldn’t get better, Chris ran a finger up her slit to collect some of the moisture building. “All for me?”

“Always. Its always for you,” she panted and then moaned as two fingers slipped into her. He curled into her, finding her special spot. He knew he had it when she jolted. He flicked his tongue back and forth on her clit as he continues to pump his fingers into her.

“Let go Angel. Let me drink you in.”

God this man was dirty. But his words did the trick. The fire that has been building in her belly spilled over and she cummed hard around his fingers. “Chris! Fuck!” She moaned.

“You always taste so good Angel,” as Chris rose to his feet, licking his fingers and then his lips. “I need to feel you now.”

“Hmm, yes you do baby,” she purred just as a flash of lighting lite up the house followed by a crash of thunder that shook the house. “Holy fuck! Where did that come from?”

“They predicted a storm,” Chris replied. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”

Then an alarming screech was heard from upstairs along with a loud bark. “Daddy!”

Chris sighed and pulled his sweatpants up. He grabbed a towel and cleaned his face as Becca laughed gently. “Welcome to fatherhood, baby.”

“We are not done Angel. See you upstairs and you better be ready.”

Becca let a mischievous smile cross her face.

“Yes daddy.”

Taglist:

@patzammit @texmexdarling

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #sideline love #sideline love series #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans au #nfl au #pittsburgh steelers #ben is the voice of reason

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yueebby · 7 months

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hii omg I love ur fics sooo much they're really helping me recover from.. gege. I was wondering if I could request gojo x drunk!reader. like maybe they come back from partying with geto and shoko and are just completely tipsy. but they're reallyyyyy affectionate and flirty and gojo literally goes insane like his heart can't take it . bonus points if reader won't stop peppering him in kisses.

"you're sooooo hot.. and- and strong! ohmigosh are you single?" AND MANS IS JUST BRIGHT RED.

preferably fem-reader thanks ^__^ <333

drunk in love — gojo satoru

contents. fluff, established relationship, alcohol (drunk!reader), gojo being gojo, youre drunk and in love but gojo loves you more

notes. anon your request was so cute i just had to write it TT i kind of got carried away from the original prompt.. but enjoy this as a form of therapy from that one eyed cat!! ps i hate drinking so idek if this is accurate :>

the night had been long, and shoko is starting to regret letting you consume what felt like half your body weight in drinks during your night out in roppongi. impatiently, she checked her phone, hoping for a response from gojo to her text message. huffing in frustration, she turned to geto, “i thought you called him. where is that idio–”

"shoko, who is that?" in your drunken stupor, you shamelessly ogled the stranger approaching the entrance of the bar. shoko facepalmed as she watched your intoxicated heart eyes for the snow-haired man.

"she's all yours now."

gojo chuckled when he saw your inebriated state, "what did they do to you?" he had just returned from a tiring mission, but seeing you was enough to lighten the weight on his shoulders.

you shifted your gaze between shoko and the handsome stranger, causing mental whiplash. a mumbled apology escaped your lips before you left shoko's side to get a closer look at the man.

amusement danced in satoru's eyes as he observed you stumbling toward him. as the loving boyfriend he was, satoru wrapped a strong arm around your waist to prevent you from tripping.

you placed a hand on his chest to steady yourself, and couldn't help but notice the firmness of his physique. "so strong," you hiccuped, running your finger down his chest, "and handsome... are you single?" you blinked up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.

suguru, watching from the sidelines, struggled to stifle his laughter as he observed his best friend's face growing increasingly red. the way you were looking up at him was driving him crazy. satoru cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to regain his composure though it was hard with the way his heart was beating so erratically.

"do you not remember me, sweetheart? your strong and handsome boyfriend?" satoru's glossy lips turned down in an exaggerated pout, and you gasped, confused on how you'd forgotten a face so beautiful. it was dangerous, how tempting the man in front of you looked.

giving in to your impulsive thoughts, you grabbed his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks together. satoru’s eyes widened as he noticed your intent on his puckered lips.

with an impish grin, you planted a series of quick kisses on his cheeks, then moved to his lips.“how,” kiss. “could i,” another kiss, “forget,” kiss, “such,” kiss, “a handsome face?”.

suguru and shoko watched in mild horror, as you showered gojo with affection. a dopey grin spread across his flushed face as he allowed you to have your way with him. he's afraid he might implode from the how adorable you were.

“i’m the most handsome man in the world, yeah?” he asks you with a grin, encouraging you to answer as he pulls you closer by the waist. satoru couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve this, but he would gladly repeat it tenfold if he could relive this moment once more.

you nod happily. “the most!”

“well aren’t you lucky to have me as your boyfriend.” satoru flashes his cerulean eyes at you above those dark sunglasses of his. just when you think he can’t get any hotter, he proves you wrong.

your friends' silent presence is suddenly shattered by laughter, jolting you back into the awareness of their company. satoru’s grin dissipates into a frown when he sees that your attention is taken off of him.

"'[name] is lucky to date him,' so he says," shoko giggles. "suguru, do you remember that one time satoru pretended to be a waiter at the restaurant [name] was on a date?" shoko not-so-secretly says to geto. "he got all drunk and then started rhapsodizing about how he was going to marry her."

satoru gasps at the memory of his awkward pining days. his attention quickly diverted back to you, anticipating your reaction.

suguru hums, “ah, or that one time he got distracted and nearly got us killed on a mission all because [name] sent a selfie.”

you pull away from satoru’s hold and he swears he feels all the warmth leaving his soul. his hands instinctively reach out to you, but you’re one step ahead, already making your way to the evil pair in front of him.

“really?” you ask the two, eyes shining eagerly.

shoko nods, an evil grin growing on her face, “you seriously never noticed that stupid dazed look he has when he sees you? even yaga has noticed it.”

gojo’s jaw drops at the sound of his best friends’ attempt to embarrass him. in his defense, he was just a man in love! satoru's infamous pout returns, and he’s trying to pull you back into his embrace and away from those traitors. to his dismay, you ignore him. did you even know that he was dying by the second without your affection?

“tell me more!” you gush, entranced with the idea that your boyfriend was just a lovesick puppy.

“is that really necessary?” satoru mumbles under his breath, though the telltale reddening of his ears betrays his indifferent facade.

“toru i didn’t know that you were obsessed with me,” a giggle erupts from you. to show your adoration, you turn back to cup your boyfriend’s face. he leans into your touch immediately.

“i still am y’know,” his gaze softened. your heart melts at the way he lowers his voice.

“i can’t watch this any longer,” the short haired female gags, searching her coat pocket for a much needed cigarette. suguru agrees silently, tearing his eyes away from the cloying display of affection.

you don’t notice your friends leaving while you’re too engrossed doting on satoru.

“baby– heh– we should head home now,” he groans softly, shivering upon your fingers tracing his undercut. if you continue this any longer, satoru's brain will be fried to the point that no reversed curse energy could fix. the effect you had on him was undeniably unjust.

“can you run me a bath when we’re home?” you pleaded, your voice tinged with weariness. after a night of drinking in roppongi, you felt the weight of the celebrations clinging to your skin.

satoru's lips curled into a playful smirk as he recognized the opportunity presented before him. "only if you'll let me hop in~"

a mischievous agreement danced in your eyes as you responded, "hm okay." you leaned in to place a tender kiss on the corner of his lips. satoru, his affection intensifying by the moment, gently gripped the back of your head and guided your lips back to his. gosh, he was so in love.

i was going to post all mine but im currently rewriting it so bear with me please !!!!

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk fluff #gojou x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader

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casualhedonists · 4 months

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter four)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

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/violence mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 4/?

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: 6.3k (🫠)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: thank you for your patience while i got my shit together (christmas edition). enjoy, this filth seems to get longer with each chapter. i’ll be gone for a few weeks over the holidays, so no chapter updates for a bit, but have no doubt i’ll be back for more in the new year <;33

Coriolanus Snow was not a patient man. He’d played the long game enough times in his climb to the top of Panem to know that once he got up there, he wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines anymore, waiting for life to happen to him. He would take what he wanted from whoever he wanted, with no delay.

Who were you to tell him what he could and couldn’t have? Who were you to deny him, walking away like you’d won, like you’d just played him like a fiddle and left him out in the dust? He replayed your self-satisfied smile as you disappeared from his view and he stood there, considering his options. The most tempting would be to follow you back to your room, to shove you up against a wall, to tear off his jacket and watch that smug look melt right off your face.

The second would’ve been to send for the whore, but it would’ve been a cheap thrill and besides, you’d made a point of getting rid of her.

He’d almost had you, he could see it. Could see the quiver in your lip as your blown-out eyes had rolled open, before you’d climbed off his lap. He was certain that if he chipped away at enough of your resolve, you’d give in. The thought of having to work for this incensed him, who were you to make demands from the President himself?

But the calculating part of his brain decided, with disdain, that he would have to be patient for once. He doubted you could go very long before giving into him; he’d seen it in your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him that night.

You wanted to go on a power trip? Fine. Snow knew it would be short lived, and you were making enough of a spectacle of yourself that it should prove entertaining to him. He decided he was going to let you have your fun, brief and fleeting as it may be. He always did enjoy a chase, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

You wanted to play? Fine.

He closed his door, leaving it unlocked.

Let the games begin.

Breakfast was a sweet kind of torture. You’d wrapped a short, silk dressing gown around your underwear set from the night before, confident after your first good night’s sleep in weeks. Headed downstairs early, so you could be there when he walked in.

“Morning, sweetie.” You smiled as you sipped at a cup of coffee.

Snow’s eyes narrowed. He sat opposite you without a word, pouring himself a cup and buttering a piece of toast. His morning paper was neatly folded on the side, and you eyed it quickly, before taking him in.

It was subtle – something probably only you could pick up on, knowing what you did – but it was there, in the slight crinkle of his usually perfect shirt, in the way he took coffee instead of tea, in the way he focused carefully on spreading the butter to every edge of his slice of toast. You glanced down again, a mischievous sense of pride filling you up.

You’d gotten under his skin.

Finally.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I don’t know about you, but I slept like a log. You?”

His eyes met yours heatedly, but he didn’t reply. One of his footmen stood posted by the door, eyes straight ahead.

“No?” You faked pity. “You look a little tired, Coriolanus. Rough night?”

Nothing. He didn’t respond to your taunts, but instead took his paper, unfolding it, and you watched intently with a glint in your eye as you saw him react to something slipping out of the pages and into his lap.

He let out a surprised scoff, lowered the paper, and looked straight at you. Your eyebrows raised in response.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, with a lilt in your voice.

When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.

“Leave us, please.” He said to the footman, without breaking off his stare once. The footman obliged, closing the door behind him. His eyes bored into you with a similar intensity as they had the night before.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He asked, but it was flat like a statement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You batted your eyes, feigning innocence.

He lifted his hand from his lap, holding up the pair of white lace panties you’d tucked between the folds of his newspaper. Raised his eyebrows in a question.

“Oh,” you smiled. “Whoops. I’d been wondering where I left those.”

His stare remained unfaltering, and you rubbed your legs together.

“Very cute, sweetheart.”

You smirked.

“You think so? Just something to remember me by. Lucille said you’ll be gone until tomorrow for work, I wouldn’t want you forgetting about last night.”

His eyes darkened, never leaving yours as you stood, making your way down the table.

“It’s a shame, really. I feel a little guilty about what I did. I got you all worked up for nothing.”

He scoffed, watching as you got closer.

“Yeah, you seem all torn up about it.”

You hummed, reaching him, and nodded at his lap, where his hand gripped the white lace.

“May I?”

“Be my guest.” He said tightly.

You straddled his lap again, and he looked up at you. You felt another surge of that power, standing over him with very little between you, as you ran your palms over his jacket, smoothing it out, then plucking the white rose from his breast pocket, and tucking your panties inside. As you pushed the rose back in, you smiled, satisfied.

“I should be more careful about misplacing things,” you mused, “Could’ve sworn I threw those in the laundry. You want to know something funny?”

“What?” Snow watched your hand pull away, and you met his gaze again.

“I’m not even sure I’m wearing a pair right now.”

It happened so quickly, it knocked the breath out of you. One second, you were balanced with your legs either side of his, and the next, you were pushed back onto the table as he stood, grabbing your waist, and leaning over you. A plate shattered on the floor, but Coriolanus didn’t flinch.

You squirmed but he gripped your hips harder, sliding one hand up to support your back and stop you from toppling straight onto the table. The cold wood pressed into your bare legs, and a glass dug into your back. You realised with a shaky breath that your dressing gown had fallen open. He was stood flush between your legs, pinning you down.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snapped.

“I told you, didn’t I?” A hum as his hips rolled into yours. “Whatever I want.”

“I could force your hand, you know.” He commented. “Right now.”

“You think I wouldn’t want you to?”

His face was unreadable. His head dipped towards yours, and when he spoke it brushed against your lips.

“You really are a whore.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I know you’re all bark and no bite. You want to know why I know that, Snow?”

He huffed.

“Why?”

“Because I think you like chasing me.” Your eyes lowered to your legs, pressed apart by his hips. Your ankles wrapped around his lower back and pressed him in further. His jaw clenched.

He followed your gaze, and you felt his breath hitch when he saw that you weren’t lying, there was nothing between the two of you except his pants.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

It did something to you, hearing him so desperate. You pulled him in again with your heels, and he looked back at you. He rocked his hips, velvet cloth rubbing against your bare cunt, and you gasped at the feeling, still sore from last night.

Any time now.

“You want to fuck me, Snow?” You whispered. “Do it. Right now, I won’t stop you.”

His breaths were heavy as he rocked his hips again, firm, and it was obscene, really, how you could feel the outline of his cock pushing against you through the thick material, and his breath was getting laboured.

Almost there.

“Knew you’d give in.” His voice was rough as he pressed in harder, and you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, “So fucking desperate. Didn’t expect you to open your legs this soon, though. Thought you’d rile me up for a few days first. But look at you,” he rambled, “giving up so easily. Where’s all that fight now, sweetheart?”

A loud rap sounded at the door.

There it is.

You couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across your face as he stopped still.

“Oh,” you blinked innocently at him, “I wonder who that could be.”

“President Snow? We’re ready for you, sir.” The footman’s voice was muffled through the door.

“Well, would you look at the time? I guess duty calls, Mr President.”

He scowled, shooting ice cold daggers at you.

“You bitch. You knew.”

“And you fell for it.” You smirked, digging your heels into his back again. “Who’s desperate now?”

He scoffed, meeting your eye again.

“You think you’re so smart, little girl. You really think I’d mind if they walked in on me fucking you into the table?”

“I know you’re not against having an audience, Snow. But what are you gonna do, hang the health minister if he walks in? I know you’re not above it, but it’d be a slight inconvenience. Surely there are wiser ways to spend your precious time.”

“Yeah? Try me.”

His nails dug into your back as he pulled you in closer. For just a second, you had a doubt. But not long enough.

“I’m calling your bluff, Coriolanus Snow.”

He shook his head. Peeled himself off you with a huff, and tried to smooth out his shirt, glaring at you the whole time.

“I’ll be right out.” He called.

You slid off the table and stood, tying your gown, then reaching to fiddle with his collar. He batted your hand away.

“Let me.” You reached out again.

“Fine.”

Your hands smoothed over the material, straightening it out, then once you were satisfied, they rested on his chest for a beat.

“You look handsome.” You confessed quietly, not meeting his eye as you spoke. You could feel his stare burning into you as you did. When you finally looked, his expression had shifted to something unreadable again. Confusion, perhaps. It was times like these when you wished you could read his mind.

The moment finally passed and you cleared your throat, trailing a hand over his breast pocket, a physical reminder of the game you were intent on winning.

“This was fun.” You declared with a smile, putting the mask back on. “Hurry back. What time shall I expect you?”

“No later than noon.” He watched as you stepped away.

“I look forward to it,” you smiled, playing with the string of your gown, “sweetheart.”

With Snow out of the house, you jumped at the chance to head straight upstairs, making a beeline for his room. Something inside you just knew the door would be unlocked, that he wouldn’t be able to resist. You were right.

At last, you were able to take a good look around the room, touring it as if it was some art museum. And it wasn’t far from it; with wood panelled walls and strong beams on the ceiling, plush velvet throw pillows and bedsheets, with crisp white linen tucked underneath. You wandered around for a while, brushing your fingers over the sides, taking it all in. It was perfectly neat, almost jarringly so. You wondered if he always kept it like this, or if it was for your benefit. Since he’d probably guessed you’d be going inside, you took little guilt in peeking into a few drawers, and flipping through the pages of the book on his nightstand.

Your curiosity then took you into the bathroom, where, after scanning the shelves, you decided to undress and take a shower, steam and the smell of his soap filling the large room. You took the opportunity to slide your hands between your legs and replay the morning’s events, filling in what you’d have had liked to have happen instead of him leaving. When you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel, and walked out, spotting a glass bottle of cologne on the edge of the sink. With a smile, you gently sprayed a little on your wrist, breathing it in, sighing deeply as the smell of him went to your head.

You got dressed again, thumbing through his closet, basking in the buzz you had from being in his space. You sat on his bed, taking his room in from a new perspective. When you were satisfied, you headed back to your own with a smile, only coming back that evening with a handful of your things, before falling into a peaceful sleep under his sheets.

A few days passed after that morning, and you barely saw Snow. He’d come back, but gone straight to his office, where he proceeded to spend long hours on the phone, stuck on some important business you had no business nosing about.

So, you waited, your games paused and painfully anticlimactic. You hated feeling like a helpless housewife, but this was apparently what you’d been reduced to. You saw your friends some of the evenings, and your family on others. Then you’d come home to hover outside Snow’s locked study to listen to the sounds of pen on paper, peppered with the occasional sigh. You would have waited for him to come out, but you gave up as the hours drawing longer. He stayed holed up in his office, night after night, and by the time he’d finished the evening’s work, sleep had long carried you away.

It hadn’t all been dull; you’d fallen into a habit of sneaking pairs of your underwear in with the clean laundry that was carried up to his room, and that had earned you a little attention, but it was merely in passing. A few heated glances at the dinner table, a brush past each other in the hallway. You’d go so far as to say it was almost like flirting, only laced with the undertones of something far heavier. It wasn’t enough for you now that you’d tasted what you could have if only you reached for it, and you started to go a little stir crazy again.

One of these nights, you’d slipped into his empty room after dark, and lay in his bed, trying to stay awake as long as you could, but sleep caught up to you and by morning, you woke alone, wrapped in soft sheets, no sign of Snow except for a slightly warm dent on his side of the bed that had long been abandoned.

You got nothing. Not a touch, not an argument, not a kiss. For a week and a half, until he was called away again. Your annoyance had started to creep back up on you tenfold by then, and you were practically crawling out of your skin.

You saw your family for dinner more and more, making a habit out of filling the empty space he'd left with small talk and laughter. It was on one such night, when you'd been silently mulling over what move to make next, that your mother mentioned a name you hadn't heard in years, and you knew right away what to do. You were done hiding away, you wanted to make yourself known. Make every second Snow spent in your presence a living hell, and a reminder of what you’d denied him. You'd hoped for something outrageous, something that would push him to the very edge. And if this didn't work, nothing would.

Nathaniel Greene was an old flame of yours. He’d always been good to you, warm and well-meaning; and he was handsome, in a gentle, boyish way. When your mother mentioned him, a beautifully cruel idea struck you. You weren’t naturally as cold-hearted as Coriolanus, but as the weeks had gone by, you’d begun to believe that maybe, in order to win this, you needed to be. Nathaniel would be perfect; the two of you had been school friends, you had history, something Snow couldn’t compete with, and you knew that would drive him insane. He was all soft edges, smiles, and pleasantries, everything that Snow wasn’t.

You felt a sliver of guilt as you began putting your plan together, but you reasoned that you and Snow had bruised each other, and low blows were what it would take for you to press into his the hardest. This was always never going to be simple; it was a messy game, and you needed to get your hands dirty.

Besides, he’d paraded a whore around the house for you to watch him fucking for weeks on end. It was fair game, you reminded yourself. So with that decided, you rose to the occasion, and the plan was set into motion.

That was how it came to be that on the day Snow returned, he walked in to find a guest sat in his living room. You were all false smiles and batted eyelashes when you saw him.

“Coriolanus, you’re back. I’d like you to meet Nathaniel, he and I used to be friends at school.”

Nathaniel rose from his seat on the sofa, and leaned toward Snow to shake his hand.

“Mr President, sir, it’s an absolute honor to be in your company. You have a lovely house.”

Nathaniel missed the slight tick in Snow’s jaw, but you didn’t. He offered his hand in response.

“The pleasure’s mine. Any… friend of my girl is always welcome here.”

My girl. The words went straight to your head, and Coriolanus pulled you in for a kiss that lingered half a second longer than usual, like he knew.

“Would you like some tea, sweetheart?” You asked, “Nathaniel and I were just catching up.”

“I remember that summer.” You laughed. “Your aunt took us to the coast, and we swam in the ocean at least twice a day. It was so cold one morning, your cousin’s lips turned blue. And on the way home, we had to stop at that inn, do you remember it?”

“With the owner and his crazy beard.”

“The crazy beard owner!” you exclaimed. “And the room you and I stayed in was so laughably small, the bed touched three of the walls all at once. Cozy, though.”

Nathaniel glanced awkwardly between the two of you, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, those were, uh… good times.”

Fire ran rampant through Snow’s eyes. You didn’t look directly at him, but your peripherals gave you plenty of satisfaction.

He was enraged. Good. You’d been mercilessly torturing him for the better part of an hour.

“Oh, Nathaniel, that reminds me, I’ll go get the book I was telling you about earlier.”

“Book?” He frowned, “I don’t-”

“You know the one! I’ll be right back.” You interrupted, then practically bounced out of your seat and walked toward the library. At the far end of the large room, you paused, pretending earnestly to scan the spines for a particular title.

You were quiet, making sure you could hear the echo of Snow excusing himself, followed by steady footsteps approaching you from behind.

“Something wrong?” You asked, keeping your back turned.

He grabbed your waist and spun you around. Backed you up until you were pressed to the wall, wooden shelves digging into your spine.

“Give me one good reason,” he spat, “why I shouldn’t kill that boy right now.”

You blinked.

“What’s wrong, Snow? Can’t take a little jealousy? Surprising, given your recent choice of company.”

“So that’s it? All this to get a rise out of me? You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” he scoffed.

You smiled, meeting his eye.

“Oh, but maybe I should. See, Coriolanus, here’s the thing.” you leaned towards him, running a finger down the front of his dress shirt, catching over each shining button as it glided down. “I haven’t decided if I should fuck him, yet. What do you think I should do?”

“I think,” he snarled, grabbing your wrists and pressing them against the wooden shelves, then dropping his voice down to a whisper, his breath mixing with yours, “that I should fuck you right here while he listens in the next room, and show him who you really belong to.”

You faltered, if only for a few moments. Your pride wavering as you heard the want drip from his voice, still getting used to his eyes skating across your skin the way you’d hoped and prayed they would for months. If you wanted it, you could take it right now, and you almost folded. He moved in ever closer, and your head dropped against the bookshelf, letting his lips graze your neck, blonde curls dusting your shoulder. You stayed there, suspended, letting it roll over you like water.

“What would your little friend in there think, if he could hear how much of a whore you really are? I wouldn’t even let you cover your mouth. I’d just hike up your slutty little dress and send you back out there with cum dripping down your thighs. How do you think he’d like you then?”

Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your legs together. Tried to rationalise the logic of throwing your plans to the wind and letting him stake his claim on you.

You considered it. Briefly.

But you were already in so deep, you had to see this through. Snow had fucked with you, then left you out to dry, and you had to make sure he would never do it again. So no, you wouldn’t be the one to fold. He would, on your terms. And now wasn’t the time, not yet.

So you collected yourself. Pulled away, batting your pretty eyes at him.

“Oh, but I’m having so much fun.”

“Don’t test me. You’ve proved your point.” he seethed, stepping closer, and one more inch and you might burst-

“Nathaniel’s waiting. I’ll see you at dinner, Coriolanus.”

With that, you slipped away, silently catching your breath.

You’d just finished dinner alone, no Snow in sight, and you were walking back towards the hallway when the doors swung open.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your hands were above your head as Snow pushed you into the dining room wall. This was starting to become a habit. A sly smile pulled at your lips.

“Stings, doesn’t it? Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

He got in close, rage burning hot in his eyes.

“What you did was different, and you know that."

"I don't know, Coriolanus, was it? I've just been so bored, lately. Idle hands, I suppose."

If looks could kill, you'd be a goner.

"That's your excuse? At least I had the decency to fuck a stranger. Tell me you didn’t-”

You laughed.

“You really think I’d do anything without making sure you watched? God, Snow, you don’t know me at all.”

He moved in closer.

“If you ever do that again, if you so much as look his way, I’ll have him whipped in the middle of the city. Or maybe I won’t bother. I’ll just have him hung, and I’ll make sure you’re there at the front of the crowd to watch him drop, knowing his blood is on your hands. Do you understand me?”

You set your jaw. Shrugged.

“Okay.”

He frowned. You took pride in the way you could see it, him trying desperately to figure you out.

“Okay?” He repeated.

“You heard me. You think I really care enough about him, that I’d invite him into the house just to make you jealous, then expect him to end up alive? How stupid do you think I am?”

You did care about Nathaniel, at least enough to not want him dead, but Snow couldn’t know that. Not for this to work.

��You’re bluffing.” But you could hear in his voice that he wasn’t sure.

“Am I? Your threats don’t phase me, Coriolanus. Do your worst, I don’t care anymore. What, did you think I’d try to talk you out of it? You think I’d beg?”

His bewilderment caused him to drop your wrists, and you took the chance to push yourself away from the wall.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I won’t fold. I meant what I said that night. You want me to be yours, you want to own me? You have to earn it. My way. You’re not going to get anywhere trying to scare me into submission. It won’t work.”

Disbelief flashed across his face. You stood your ground, raising your head up high, leaning in.

“I don’t want to fight you, Coriolanus.” You confessed. “Your room. An hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Say what you wanted about Coriolanus Snow, but when you asked him to be on time, he obliged. You didn’t even need to hear his footsteps to know he’d come, which you’d grown finely attuned to by now, enough to hear them leave his office two rooms away and walk the short distance to his room, swinging open the door you’d left decidedly ajar.

And you made sure what he walked in on was a sight to behold; you, sprawled out on his bed in nothing but a white shirt of his, unbuttoned all the way down, falling to your sides. Your head pressed into his silk pillowcases, legs parted lazily as your hand rubbed slow circles on your clit beneath the red lace of your underwear. You could tell from the look on Snow’s face when you rolled your head to the side and looked at him that you’d had the desired effect, that you’d orchestrated this perfectly, because he couldn’t take his eyes off your hand, hips rocking into it, the visual made all the more lewd by the scrap of fabric hiding your movements, leaving his brain to fill in the blanks.

You slowed.

“Glad you could make it.” A small smile formed on your lips.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

“I have. Your bed’s a lot softer than mine.”

He hummed, crossing his arms.

“Why did you ask me here, sweetheart? This is my room, after all.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and even that small motion wasn’t lost on him. Your hand stilled.

“I waited for you.” You said quietly.

He let out a sigh, ragged and tired.

“I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you knew how badly I wanted to see you-”

“Don’t. I don’t want your apology.”

His expression gave way to confusion for a split second.

“Okay. What is it you want?”

You paused, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth. Then you swallowed, your voice an embrassing whisper.

“I want your mouth on me.” It almost hurt to hold his stare, but you did.

“That so?” was the response. You cleared your throat.

“You say you’re sorry, Snow? Prove it. I’m right here.”

He paused, like he was mulling you over. Like he was figuring out just how to play his cards. Then a small smile pulled at his lips.

“Take your hand away.” His voice was rough, and it gave him away.

You obliged, watching him step towards the bed, towards you. He rolled up his sleeves, eyes on yours and your stomach twisted.

There he is.

“If you’re going to be making demands, it’s only polite that you ask nicely. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You nodded, flushing under his stare.

“You want me to take these off?” He smoothed his hands up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the band of your panties. You'd missed feeling his hands on your skin.

You nodded again, and he tutted.

“Yes.” You corrected. “Please.”

“Good. It was about time you learned some manners.” He slowly slid them off, and you lifted your hips to help him. His gaze slid between your legs, and you shifted your knee so you were covered.

“Not getting shy now, are you? Open your legs for me.” He instructed, and you obliged, burning under the heat of his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off before moving in towards you, kneeling on the ottoman. You were already soaked, and you could feel the heat building even more, just from having him near you, having him see what a dripping mess you were.

“Shit.” It was no louder than a whisper, but your perked ears caught it and you pressed your lips together.

He tentatively pushed his thumb through your folds and you whined, a look on his face like he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. Did it again, and it caught on your clit, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Please.”

“Good girl. You know how many times I’ve thought about this over the past week? I’ve lost sleep over it.”

“Coriolanus.”

He smoothed his hands over your thighs again, and you yelped as he suddenly pulled you forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He kept staring, and you couldn’t take it, blood rushing from your head, so you dropped it back onto the pillows.

“Look at me.” He squeezed your thigh.

You did. You felt a sliver of pride as you noted the slight flush in his cheeks, like maybe he was more worked up than he was letting on.

“You know how many times I came all over those pretty panties of yours, wishing you were wearing them? Think I lost count.”

You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you as his breath brushed over your folds, wound so tight you thought you would burst.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Say it again.”

“I want your mouth on me. Please, put your mouth on me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice, because with a sharp inhale, he pressed his mouth onto your cunt and dragged his tongue over your clit, slowly, firm and deliberate, like he had an itemised list of exactly how to cause your undoing. You gasped at the sudden contact, and your hips bucked off the bed, before his fingers gripped into your hips the way they had the other night, and slammed you back down.

“So fucking needy. Were you really that worked up? Parading your little boy toy around will do that, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” You gasped, as he worked his tongue over your clit again, tracing slow, firm circles that made your legs weak. You grabbed a handful of his hair, blonde locks twisted between your fingers as he pulled away again. You whined.

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t think you are. But you will be.”

You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant, because his tongue was all over you again, lapping at your entrance, lips sucking loudly at your clit as you moaned, free hand twisting creases into his bedsheets.

“Fuck.” You keened as your hips bucked harder, searching for friction that was so close to being enough. Your heels pressed into his back and your hand tightened in his hair, to which he retaliated by digging his nails into your thighs, scraping against the almost-healed bruises that were left from the previous week. The pinch brought you further into that headspace, where you could feel yourself slipping away, crying out as you thrashed under the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.

You kept rocking your hips, hopelessly trying to grind against him, but his hands held you down firmly, keeping the pace torturously slow. You couldn’t help your spaced-out brain from slipping back to weeks ago, when you’d watched him do the same to his whore on this very bed, and you made a sound of protest that just melted in with the rest of your noises, going unnoticed.

You didn’t want to feel this way, to feel disposable, like he could just have his way with you and throw you out. You knew that if you didn’t do something, you’d lose yourself altogether. And you couldn’t bear that thought, of having to give in. Not like this. Not when he held all the cards again.

“I want to sit on your face.” You breathed without thinking, strung out and desperate. Coriolanus pulled back. A smirk on his lips, which were swollen red and covered in your slick. You whimpered as the soft light caught him, showing you the mess you’d made of his face, dripping down his chin.

“Do you now?”

“Please. I’ll ask nicely, I’ll – I’ll beg, if you want me to. Just please, let me sit on your face. I can’t take it anymore, I’m so-” You broke off, gasping as he pressed a soft kiss onto your clit, causing your legs to jolt.

“Poor thing. You really want it, don’t you?”

“Yes. Please, I’ll do anything. Just… please.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, trailing soft kisses down your thigh. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll let you. Just for a few minutes, okay? Think you can cum that fast?”

“Fuck, yes. Thank you.”

A messy tangle of limbs as he pulled his shirt off, sliding flat onto the bed, hands guiding your shaking legs as you inched over his torso. It was nearly too much, watching his pretty face as you lowered yourself onto him, but you couldn’t look away, hands grabbing the headboard to steady yourself. You couldn’t help but think back to that night, riding his thigh like you were being paid for it. As he carefully eased your hips down, thighs either side of his face, you knew this was going to be a hundred times better than that. And Snow didn’t disappoint, lifting his head to nuzzle your clit as you sucked in a breath, hips jolting forward. You dropped a hand to grab onto his hair, and he didn’t retaliate this time, letting you wind your fingers around his curls as you started to move slowly, rocking your hips against his mouth.

This was much better. The angle was perfect, pressure everywhere you needed it, and you tipped your head back as you moved, one languid lick causing it to drop forward again to look at Snow.

The only time he really moved was to pull you in firmer, and the motion reminded you of how he’d pulled you into his thigh, and before you knew it the ache in your stomach was growing into a throb, burning you up until it felt molten, until you felt drunk from it. The coil tightened further as you got into it, rolling your hips, tugging Snow’s hair to the point where you were sure it must’ve been hurting him, but he either didn’t care or just didn’t stop you. As your hips bucked faster and you looked down at his face, eyes hazy as he ate you out like he was starved, you couldn’t help it, you just started talking, rambling near nonsense and it wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck, that’s it, right there. You’re gonna make me cum all over your face if you keep that up. Holy shit.” Your grip in his hair tightened, so hard it was pulling his head back so you could grind against him just right, clit catching on his nose, cunt spasming against his tongue, and he winced, a broken sound escaping the back of his throat, but it only egged you on. Your voice breathy but taunting, getting cockier by the second.

“Does that hurt, baby? Am I pulling too hard?” His eyes narrowed, but his tongue only fucked into you harder. “You can take it though, can’t you? Fuck. You’re being so good for me, letting me fuck your face like this. Feels so fucking good. Shit, I thought you’d take more convincing, but look at you, eating from the palm of my hand.”

His hands gripped into your hips again, nails digging crescent moons into your skin, and you tightened your thighs around his head which only made him dig harder, the pain tipping you over the edge as you shouted out, hips jerking as your thighs shook, and Snow only pressed in firmer with his tongue as you came, riding out your high with a strangled sob.

He didn’t give you chance to come down from your orgasm, instead pushing you off his face and flipping you over. You landed on your back, scared for a second that you’d be punished for getting carried away, but his lips met yours in a sudden battle for dominance. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue. He’d never kissed you like this before. It lit another fire in your stomach, just when you thought you were done.

After what felt like a lifetime getting drunk off each other, he pulled away, and you got to see the mess you’d made of this man. There he was, propped above you, the most powerful man in the country, blonde hair a sweaty wreck of tangles, parted lips sore and swollen, your cum smeared across his mouth and chin, mixed with the trail of your wet tongue in the places you’d just cleaned him up.

You tasted it on your lips, heard it in his laboured breath, saw it in his blown-out eyes, felt it in the small space between you.

This was what power felt like.

He was shaking his head incredulously, like he couldn’t quite believe you. Then, ignoring your hiss, his head dipped between your legs again, smooth tongue rolling over you like cool water on a burn. You flinched, a broken sound slipping from your lips.

“Oh, come on. You can give me one more, right?”

Fuck.

“Coriolanus, I can’t-” You whined as his hot breath lit you up, long fingers sliding inside you.

“You will. Come on, baby. You can take my fingers, can’t you?” His voice mimicked yours as he opened you up, speeding up a little. You hummed as he pressed against your sweet spot, and you hated how it seemed like it was so easy to him, to take you apart like this.

“Good girl. Look at me.” He scolded, when your eyes rolled back, squirming from the overstimulation, pressing his thumb against your clit just to watch you jolt.

“You’re going to do something for me. You’re going to promise me you won’t ever see him again.”

“What? Who, Nathaniel? I-”

He pressed into your clit again, mean, and you squeaked.

“Don’t say his fucking name. Promise me, right now. Say it.”

“I promise. Never again. I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

“Good girl.” He smiled.

“Don’t want anyone else, just you, please. Please, Coriolanus. Will you promise me too?” Your words were airy, and your voice shook.

He slowed his fingers, and shifted himself up to place his lips on yours.

“I promise, sweetheart. It’ll just be us.” His fingers pressed into you harder, scissoring lazily, but every movement lit all your nerve endings on fire. You were so wet it was almost humiliating, or it would be if you weren’t so turned on, obscene sounds bouncing off the walls as he worked you open. Coriolanus could tell, smiling as he whispered praises, sweet nothings into your ear and added a third finger, thumb brushing across your clit as the sensitivity quickly morphed into more pleasure.

“You close again, baby?”

You only whimpered in response, head jerking as your eyes squeezed close, arm sliding down to grab his wrist, pushing it further. You were wrecked, and he knew it. It was his doing.

“Ah.” He knocked your hand away with a knowing smile. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’m listening.”

You paused, at a mental crossroads, but as he twisted his fingers just right, pressing deeper, you dropped all your inhibitions. Squeezed your eyes closed, cunt gripping his fingers, and confessed.

“I want you to fuck me.” You whispered.

You knew full well what it meant. You didn’t care anymore; you’d had your fun, and you were ready to fold. Lay all your cards out on the table. This ache inside you had never felt so loud. You refused to open your eyes, which were threatening to fill with desperate tears.

“Ask nicely.” He pulled his fingers back, dragging them along your sweet spot. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.

“Please. Please, fuck me. I’m done, now, I promise. I won’t do it again, Coriolanus, I’m so sorry-”

“Say it again. One more time. Look at me.”

You sighed, eyes flooding with hot tears. You finally opened them.

“Please, Coriolanus. Fuck me.”

He smiled, but as quickly as it arrived, it morphed into something sinister.

“No.”

His hand stopped, fingers slipping out of you before you could stop them. Your high started to slip away. You rocked your hips, confused out of your mind. Driven to your edge, and then in the same breath, catapulting to a stop.

“I- wait, no… what?” You sounded delirious.

He shrugged, casually lifting his fingers, sucking them off with a pop.

“I don’t think I will. You’ve done quite enough, and I’ve had a long day. So I think you should be on your way now.”

You gaped, dumbfounded. The tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you held them in like they were your last shred of pride.

“But… you said we wouldn’t… I thought-”

He traced a hand across your check, gently, and it took everything in you not to sob.

“I meant what I said. But I’m not quite ready to forgive and forget. You should go and get some sleep.”

“Coriolanus, I- please.” You begged him, eyes wild and desperate.

“Stings, doesn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and something inside you sank like a heavy cruiser. “A taste of your own medicine.”

a/n: sorry mom

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