#Victor just wants to pet you and get to know you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluemerakis · 11 months ago

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┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ I’m the guy mothers warn you about, the son they’re afraid to have ❞

⇀ Word count: 15k words (sorry ☠️)

!! 18+ ONLY !!

Guess who finally mustered up the courage to write a Coriolanus Snow fic, and holy shit, this might just be the longest once-off I’ve ever written.

My dear @quicksilversg1rl , this fic goes out to you 100x over. I hope this makes up for the fact that I couldn’t put Tom under your tree ☹️ I hope that it’s enough that I put him in your dreams instead <3

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WARNINGS:

dom!coriolanus, some out-of-pocket makes-you-go “wtaf💀” Coriolanus moments, smut, swearing, possessiveness, manipulation, toxic relationship, choking, pet names, degradation, edging, lots of italics and dashes (sorry I was feeling myself (not literally you sicko) ), masturbation, unprotected sex, cockwarming, dryhumping/wethumping(?), fingering/fisting, oral sex f receiving, the therapy you’ll need after reading these warnings

‼️DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE ABOVE-MENTIONED WARNINGS‼️

SYNOPSIS:

Coriolanus had always known you held potential to win the games, from the day he’d laid his eyes on you at the 10th annual reaping. You were the key he’d been missing all these years, and how he saw almost every opportunity unlocked by your presence at that year’s hunger games.

The secret of how he’d risen into power? The answer was much simpler than anyone had expected. You. Sure, Coriolanus had done his fair share of treason and murder to contribute to his status, but it was your victory that had granted him access to the Plinth fortune and made his ambitions possible. He wasn’t a man that liked to share credit, but he thought your performance in the games a worthy enough candidate.

To show you just how thankful he was, he’d invited you to live with him after the games, for however long you pleased, and he’d made it his mission to show you all the pleasures the Capitol and his lifestyle had to offer. He liked having you near him at all times, and he liked it even better when he was inside of you.

What he didn’t like, though? When you flirted with other men, especially when it served to get a rise out of him.

Coriolanus Snow doesn’t like sharing, and he doesn’t tolerate disobedience, either. You’d learn that lesson the hard way.

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Coriolanus was a man bred for purpose, like his father before him, and it was a purpose he often reminded you of—a means to keep your neediness at bay, to tame your urge to be at his side every waking hour of the day, a ploy to remind you just how little value you posed to him outside of a night of fleeting pleasure. He marvelled in the opportunity to make you feel insignificant, a false promise too-quickly forsaken the moment your existence captured another man’s desire—a man that wasn’t him.

In the midst of a party he’d rather not have attended, he watched you from a quiet corner of the venue hall, conversing away with a man he hadn’t had the displeasure of meeting just yet. He didn’t know whether you were honestly that painfully oblivious to the desires of the man before you, who clearly wanted nothing more than a taste of one of the renowned hunger games victors, or whether you had deliberately struck up a conversation to get a rise out of Coriolanus.

But when his eyes narrowed on your hand that reached to move a strand of your hair back to the security behind your ear, he knew then exactly which particular game you were playing.

You always did that when you felt subconscious—when you knew you were being watched. It was a tell that Coriolanus had come to identify the more time he’d spent observing you. He’d needed to—it was necessary in order to know the truths you would not tell him. Not out loud, at least. But now, he was pretty fluent in your body language, in more than one way.

He watched you tilt your head to the side in the slightest manner, an act that often sent all the conservativeness of men toppling over the edge. Your lip suctioned into a concentrated bite as you offered small, attentive nods—you were getting him to think you’re interested in what he has to say, pretending not to notice the way his eyes traced your lips and occasionally flickered across your peeping breasts.

The sight stirred an anger in Coriolanus, his fingers tightening around the glass of wine clutched in one hand. He lifted the wine to his lips, taking a sip as though it would somehow quench the imminent fire that threatened to take control of all reasonability. He couldn’t let you get a rise out of him, not in public where he had an image to uphold. Goddamn you and your games, he hated being the one to play it. That had been the fate of you and the districts, not him—Capitol-born and rich beyond imagination. Was this his retribution to pay? Sentenced to your little games after all he’d brought upon you?

You moved a hand to caress the man’s shoulder, offering a sweet giggle. And then there it was, the slightest glance in his direction, fleeting but an obvious beckon for attention. Coriolanus clenched his jaw as you purposefully turned your back on him, his eyes boring into your exposed shoulder blades, framed by a dress that paraded all the right aspects of your body—a dress he’d picked out for you. He hadn’t gone through all that effort to make you look so ravishing, only for another man to enjoy it. It had been for him, a reminder of what his prize would be after enduring this insufferable party.

He’d planned to rip it from you, as mercilessly as he could offer, to toss it onto the floor and you onto the bed, naked and accessible to whatever he desired. However, you seemed hellbent on denying him a good night. He watched you reach for the man’s hand, your motion suggestive as you tugged on him and began to lead him away from the mayhem.

Coriolanus knew exactly where you were taking him.

He watched you weave your way through the dancing bodies, the music falling into the background as he trailed your every move—the way the man blatantly admired the curve of your ass. What an unacceptable circumstance, to think his favourite toy was not his own limited edition—one only he could afford to play with. After all, why had he endured the battlefield of this unfair life to claim a reward that promised power and money and control, only to feel so helpless in his infatuation over you. He hated what primal need controlled him, rendered him incapable of letting you go.

What had it all been for? The poison, the betrayal, the heinous crimes he’d committed—all to prove that he bore no seal of humanity, felt no obligation to love, until you came along, making him look the fool each time you batted a devious lash or wrung those perfect lips around suggestive words. Each time you spoke was like fragments of an enchantment, slowly being made whole and taking its magical toll on his entire being, beginning to claim everything he was—making him obsess, making him weak.

The day he’d gotten you as his tribute, you’d had been nothing more than a mission—a means to secure a prize that would set him for life. But there had been something about you, something that had drawn him in like a sudden whirlpool, now he couldn’t escape the obsession you’d cursed him with. He’d never before felt the burden of caring about another person’s life, needing to know what they were up to at all times.

Coriolanus recalled seeing you for the first time, the day of the reaping, after the tributes had been transported to the Capitol. He remembered seeing you thrown into the zoo display—the way you had instantly found your feet and ran a hand through your hair, made unruly by a rough and sleepless night. Your brows were knitted closely together with unmistakable anger, a look that promised vengeance to the Capitol despite the silence on your lips. Your dress had been made ragged to match your hair, evidence that the bats had showed no mercy toward your pretty privilege. Maybe it had been your looks that had drawn them in, after all.

He’d been ready to deem you a lost cause, disappointed that once again, he’d been stuck with rigged odds. He had been convinced that somewhere beneath that shredded fabric on your skin, you bore the kiss of rabies, doomed to die like countless before you. But he’d seen a few of the other tributes, bearing the same tells of their struggle with the bats in their shredded clothes and tired eyes. One of those amongst the suffering had been your fellow district twelve tribute, Morgan Lark, and he had possessed the worst wounds out of all the affected.

It’d been less than a few hours until the wounded tributes started retching up fountains of white, their eyes glassy and their movements frantically lost on them. Yet there you had sat, watching with perfect control and composure as they had dwindled into mere husks of the people they used to be.

Coriolanus knew then that you had been different—stronger, a tribute that might just prove the risk to be worth it. He’d insisted on investigating the cart you’d been transported in, eager to know the truth behind your journey. Had you truly been strong enough to evade the consequences of the bats? The mystery of it all was pressing enough to consume his every thought. He needed to know. His future depended on it, depended on you.

That evening, after much persistence and a bribe that he honestly couldn’t have afforded, he’d gained access to your cart. There wasn’t much to look at, given that it was nothing more than an empty container, without even the courtesy of a blanket. The scene was almost hauntingly familiar, personal. Nonetheless, he’d paced the walls, eyes searching every aspect of the metal, every dent and hole in the floor. He’d found nothing other than a few rusty nails—nothing interesting, that is until he’d picked one of them up and inspected it closer to find its apex crusted with blood.

A few of the nails were identical in their blood-coating, not a coincidence. Coriolanus gathered them up into his father’s handkerchief, almost regretting the decision as the rust stained the symbolic, white fabric. He placed them cautiously into his blazer pocket, scanning the cart one last time before making his departure. He made a beeline to the morgue, where the bodies of the five infected tributes had been placed shortly after their passing. He needed to see Morgan Lark’s body, to know what secret you could have hidden in his death.

Once he’d gained access to the corpse, he’d pulled back the white covering. A strong waft of formaldehyde greeted his senses and burned his eyes teary. He had been surprised that the body was being preserved, though he didn’t doubt that Dr. Gual had plans to somehow extract and weaponise the rabies in the next games. The chemicals had instantly become so overwhelming that he had to pull his handkerchief from his pocket, empty the rusted nails onto the tray and cover his mouth and nose with the fabric to keep his nausea at bay.

Coriolanus studied the corpse, struggling to contain his pressing disgust as he laid his eyes on the shredded flesh. The bats had gone to town on Morgan, leaving little sections of skin intact. He’d mustered up the courage to get close enough to inspect the wounds, noting that the scratches embedded along his body were not all the work of the bats. No, some of them had been too deep of a wound for a bat’s claws to commit. He had a very good idea of the origins of those wounds, his eyes flickering to the rusted nails on the tray.

He knew then that it was not strength or immunity that had protected you from the touch of death, but your keen mind and craftiness with sharp objects. Coriolanus had pieced together a rough picture of what had happened: you’d managed to get close enough to cut Morgan with the nails, ensuring wounds that were deep enough to bleed profusely, which attracted and encouraged the bats to attack him. You hadn’t been so lucky to go completely unnoticed by the bats, hence the disheveled dress, but you had sure as hell been lucky enough to have been spared from their bite.

What a clever girl you were, perhaps too much for your own good.

Coriolanus had to admit that he’d been impressed by your cruelty—your drive to survive. It gave you an edge, a promising reason to win. He liked those odds, you were becoming a plausible risk to him. Just what would you have been willing to do to a tribute you’ve yet to meet, if you’d so easily betrayed a fellow district partner?

As he’d left the morgue that evening, he couldn’t deny the smirk that had wound his lips the entire trip back. He knew then that, for the first time in all his years as a mentor, this might be the year that he’d finally claim the Plinth prize.

What a worthwhile pick you had been. He liked good investments, and you had proven to be the best one yet. You’d taken that entire game, playing it smart, staying lost in the shadows and gathering what scraps you could make into a worthwhile means of defence. You weren’t the strongest or the most skilled fighter by any means, but you were smart, and that was a quality lost on many of the tributes. They all marched around, boasting their strength as some sort of show of dominance. They thought it made them ferocious, earned them another hour of life, but Coriolanus knew that it only drew attention, that they were stupid in bringing about a speedier death. You had known that, too.

Coriolanus slipped out of his mind, watching as you’d stopped by one of the tables to grab a snack, making a point to be sloppy so that the strange man would feel honour in being able to wipe your lips clean, spurring on his ego and his erection. You had pulled that trick on Coriolanus many times. He hated seeing you provide that same sort of attention to anyone else.

His attention was diverted to a pair of Capitol business men, who had approached him and were attempting to bombard him with pitches he couldn’t have been more arsed to consider, not when he had something more pressing on his mind—not when you had deliberately stolen his attention away.

How incredibly selfish that you should demand his time even when you were not at his side, or laying below him with your legs spread open and cunt practically begging for his generosity. He didn’t tolerate time-wasters of any regard, so he’d ensure that you made up for it.

He lifted a dismissive hand toward the face of one of the men, who fell silent with a look of indignation, but even he wasn’t fool enough to unleash his temper unto the heir of the Plinth fortune. Had Coriolanus known that murdering his best friend would have come with so many perks, he’d have made a point to bring about that particular death benefit much sooner.

He lifted the glass to his lips, draining the rich wine that had been marinating the depths of the glass for far too long. He beckoned over one of the runners, placing his empty glass onto the tray before turning his attention back to the business men.

He offered an insincere dip of his chin. “My apologies, but I’ve more pressing matters to tend to. Please, do enjoy the beverages,” he slipped between their dumbfounded bodies, before adding, “and the women, if it’d please you.”

Coriolanus manoeuvred his way through the crowd, his eyes not once leaving you, even if he had to watch you relentlessly flirt with the other man. Not only were you good with your hands, but you unintentionally weaponised your beauty, too. He had always thought you to possess an innocence that seemed to frame your features, a natural gift that kept eyes focused on the contours of your face rather than on the schemes of your hands. That had always been your advantage—in the games and in your everyday interactions.

It made him angry that you’d remade his mind in this way. No matter how much Coriolanus tried to remind himself of the purpose he’d been bred for, all that he’d done to get to where he was now, all the people he’d carelessly murdered—there was no denying the truth:

No matter what higher, callous deity he claimed to be, he was only just a man, carved from anger and burdened with otherworldly jealously. All because of you.

Just as Coriolanus had managed to push past the last of the dancing bodies that had been blocking his path, he spotted you leaving through the doors, dragging your new pet behind you. His footsteps were brisk as he made for that same doorway, his fists balling at his sides as he stifled the urge to redirect his anger unto the unsuspecting door man. No, he’d best save that anger for you, transform it into something that would make you suffer, as he’d been forced to endure this evening.

He slipped through the doors, instantly greeted by a much quieter atmosphere, the laughter and music of the event muffled behind the now closed doors. Across the room, he saw you slip into the elevator, glimpsing just a hint of a smirk on your perfect lips as the doors slid closed and engulfed his view of you.

Annoyance pricked at his chest, he’d have to wait for the elevator to come back down. That was too much time gifted to you, time that could easily be used to bring you one step closer to coming undressed for that man. He’d never found himself wishing for a stairwell more than he did right now, but Capitol architecture stupidly insisted that stairs were a concept made only for the districts.

Coriolanus trudged his way over to the elevator, running an impatient hand through his hair as he watched the countdown of the various different floors commence on the monitor. His residence was the topmost floor, an expensive suite that the Plinths had gifted him on his day of recognition. He’d been kind enough to allow you to stay in one of his rooms, to have you in his proximity at all times where you’d more than once enjoyed the free luxury of his lifestyle, and this is how you’d repaid him—by bringing other men into his sacred space.

He couldn’t help but imagine what you were up to at this instant. The thought of you trapped beneath the man on one of the sofas overlooking the city made him bite the inside of his cheek—those were the sofas he’d so often pinned you to, forcing you to admire the view as he admired you, demonstrating his praise for your beauty through the actions of his fingers in your cunt.

When Coriolanus had first met you, he had thought you hated drawing attention, especially when it warranted a much speedier death in the games. You’d always been so reserved, so hellbent on silence as you kept a calculating eyes on anybody who wasn’t you. He’d like that quiet air about you, it was a call for guidance, a plea for somebody to claim your trust—he knew he could have given that to you.

But now, Coriolanus could have laughed at that thought.

You, hating attention? What an odd facade he’d so easily been fooled by—but he’d grown smarter since your first encounter. He knew the real truth now. What a glorious night that had been, the first time he’d taken you to bed. He could still smell the desperation that had trailed from your cunt as his nose burrowed into your swollen and beckoning clit—the way his hands had squeezed the skin of your inner thighs a faint blue in his attempt to trap them against the bed. They’d been so eager to wrap around his neck, to make him prisoner within your euphoria. He’d shown his disapproval by wedging your thighs further apart, an action that earned a shocked moan from you, coupled with a gasp at the growing aggression of his tongue inside of you.

How he enjoyed being the puppeteer of your body, pulling your limbs every which way until you’d been contorted and opened up for him to exploit. You often needed reminding that you were sentenced to his will, made prisoner to his desires.

He could still feel the faint traces of your arousal that had painted pictures across the sharp lines of his jaw, mercilessly freed by the way his tongue had ravished your folds and plucked from you what little dignity and silence you had managed to fashion up until that very moment. No matter how much you’d pretend to feel indifferent to his attention, your body had always betrayed you—it was unashamedly and passionately thankful to his ministrations.

Your pathetic moans still echoed on a loop in the dark corners of his mind—an ear worm he couldn’t discard of, though he couldn’t honestly admit that he’d want anything of the sort. It spurred him on, serving as a constant reminder of his pretty possession, and just how much you needed him—his touch, his validation, his attention. He was the poison-kissed oxygen that you couldn’t help but inhale, fooling yourself that it would somehow replenish the air in your lungs and give you the freedom of living, existing, all the while your every bodily cell came closer and closer to becoming his. It didn’t take much for him to claim all that you were and all that you could be, only the right words and that glorious goddamn night in bed.

He’d completely remade you in his image, branded you with his bedroom generosity, always leaving you with just enough to satisfy, but never enough to last for more than a few hours. You always came back begging for more.

What an attention whore.

At last, the elevator dinged its arrival, the doors opening to welcome Coriolanus inside. He slipped in almost instantly, moving to press the button of the top floor. When the doors finally closed, he became trapped in the air lingering inside, noticing a trace of your sweet perfume. He’d come to admire that scent, thought of it as a way to identify every place you’d been in. But your sweet scent had fused with the musky odour of that strange man, an unpleasant smell that suffocated your own in mere seconds. He could only imagine that same odour plastering itself to your neck and all across your clothes as the man forced himself onto you, enjoying what didn’t belong to him.

After a few minutes, the elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open to reveal two intertwined bodies at the other end of the lobby. You were pinned against the doors to Coriolanus’ suite, the man’s hands wandering beneath your dress and up your magnificent thighs, shrivelled lips sloppily searching the skin of your neck. Your head was tossed back against the wood, eyes sown shut as you let slip the sweetest of moans, a sound that Coriolanus had claimed as his own.

He barged through the elevator doors, the sound of his angered footsteps earning your attention. You lowered your head to him, watching with a playful smile at what was about to unfold. He ignored it, the satisfaction in that grin, the sense of achievement at your ability to control him, have him trailing after you like a dog on a leash. He’d let you have this moment, to savour its short-lived existence because once he was through with this man, he’d show you just how much trouble you’d caused him.

Coriolanus grabbed the oblivious man at the collar of his shirt, too far gone to think with his brain rather than his cock to notice he’d appeared, and plucked him from you. He shoved the man away, who stumbled backwards with his footsteps serving as clear evidence of mild intoxication. The toad began protesting, before his eyes finally found Coriolanus and his lips clamped shut on a look of realisation.

“You come into my house, drink my wine, enjoy my woman, all without a trace of shame?” Coriolanus snapped, his voice gruff with built-up anger.

The man fashioned an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean any offence, Mr. Snow, I swear by it!” His hands made frantic gestures, eager to exonerate himself. “It was her that came onto me, she invited me back here, suggested we get to know each other better—“

Coriolanus lifted his chin, his glare cold as he stared down his nose at the man. “Are you implying that it’s her fault?” It most certainly was, but if Coriolanus had to endure all that had just happened, he intended to have some fun with it.

The man stilled with a look of uncertainty that passed between you and Coriolanus, his hand moving to scratch the back of his head.

“Are you even a man at all, if you’re so easily influenced by a girl that bats her lashes at you and caresses your arm one time?” He had to ignore the irony in that statement; he could’ve almost been talking into a mirror. “You’re pathetic, blaming your lack of control and better judgement on her,” he said, eyes hardening as he took a step forward, the man simultaneously retreating a step with a gulp.

“Go find whatever excuse of a manhood you claim to have in somebody else’s cunt, and don’t let me catch you back in this building. It wont be words that warn you off next time.” His hands clenched into fists at his side, itching to grab the fleeing man and grace him with a well-earned punch—but he wouldn’t gift you that satisfaction, too.

When the elevator doors closed on the stranger, Coriolanus turned to face you. You were picking at your nails busily, as though the entire interaction had bored you beyond interest.

“What were you thinking?” He snapped at you, inching closer to glare you down.

You glanced up from your hands, offering a mere shrug as you crossed your arms and glanced up at him cheekily. “I wasn’t thinking at all, really,” you admitted. “Just wanted to feel some good things.”

Bitterness found its way onto Coriolanus’ tongue. “Do I not make you feel good enough?” He scolded coolly, his eyes searching yours angrily. “Would you rather I call that prick back and have him stick his two expired inches inside you?”

A hint of hurt seemed to widen your eyes, your expression shaped with confusion. “Didn’t think you cared what I got up to,” you muttered, glancing off to the side.

Coriolanus knew that to be complete bullshit, a feeble play at attempting to settle your own insecurities. He knew what you wanted to hear from him—that you mattered to him, that he wanted you to himself, that the mere thought of another man touching you would send him into inexplicable rage. To an extent, those were all true, but not in the way you'd wanted them to be, not in a way he was capable of giving.

He restrained the anger he felt towards you, knowing that he needed to take a gentler approach. You weren't in a state fit to endure his anger, not now. He needed to coddle you, to keep your emotions intact, otherwise he risked losing you. He couldn't have that.

“I care,” he said at last, moving a hand to grip at your chin. He’d forgotten how soft your skin was, it’d been weeks since he’d been permitted to touch you, business keeping him away from your warmth. He moved your face to his, searching between your eyes and your lips. “And you know that I care, too, or you wouldn’t have put on this little display.”

“You don’t care—not really, Coriolanus,” you snapped, your hand plucking his from your chin. “You constantly remind me that I’m nothing more than pleasure to you, an object you love to parade around, so as long as it’s your name engraved on me.”

Correct, he thought, his hand returning to his side. He gazed at you, the cogs of his mind reeling busily as he cautiously selected his next words. He couldn’t be angry with you, not now when you were so fragilely being kept together by emotion. It mattered what he said to you, even if the words weren’t honest. He knew that you needed reassurance, something akin to love to cling to, to keep you satisfied beside him. The condition that came with having a toy he loved to play with, was having to look after it, to ensure it didn’t break or wear with time.

That was exactly what he had to do with you, so he fed you whatever conniving words he could to keep you indulged in whatever illusion you’d had about your relationship with Coriolanus. A necessary evil to preserve his hold over you. He was selfish that way, but you were far too entertaining to let slip, and he did rather enjoy you—your company and your body.

Truthfully, you did have some sort of hold over him, and he’d let just enough of that truth show to control you, to convince you of his love for you.

“In all my years of existing, I've never once felt compelled to share my life with somebody else," Coriolanus told you softly. He moved his hand to return that same rogue strand of hair back behind your ear. "Not until you. I can't explain it, the way the mere thought of you with another man sends me into an unparalleled rage—to think that he could give you something I couldn't. The thought of somebody touching you the way I touch you. . . It's unbearable, unacceptable." He placed his hands on either one of your cheeks, lifting your head to face him. His words had too easily buttered you up, moulded your face with a look of infatuation. “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have followed you all the way up here. I’d have let you fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, however you want. But the fact is, I care—a lot.”

You still harboured a certain look of uncertainty in your eyes, those damned eyes that made him go feral. He could tell that you wanted to believe him, but you had reservations that he hadn’t yet satisfied with his words. He needed to say more, do more.

“Do you see me chasing after any other girl the way I chase after you?” He pressed on, grabbing your face a little more ferociously, just to sell the point. “You’ve consumed me, reduced any ounce of respect I’ve once had for myself to nothingness. I could’ve had you pawned off the Capitol after the games, to do whatever bidding they demanded of you, but I chose to keep you by my side, to spoil you with everything you deserve for winning the games. Tell me one person who’d be willing to do the same for a district nobody that they held no care for?”

Your eyes had grown teary at his words, your bottom lip quivering beyond your control. You had meant to look tougher, Coriolanus could tell, unmoved by his words, but you were only just a naive girl burdened with the need to be loved. So you believed it, every poisonous word dripping from his lips—lapped it up hungrily like a douse of honey, in fact. Perfect. He was gaining back your trust.

You caved into Coriolanus, his hands falling from your face to wrap around your body and keep you against him. His one hand curled around the nape of your neck while the other wrapped around the small of your back, so perfectly shaped to accommodate his arm. How could he be convinced that you were not made just for him, when every aspect of your body seemed to be carved just for his touch? The hand on your head began to move with rhythmic strokes across your hair, his lips moving to place a kiss on the crown of your head. He rested his chin where he’d placed his kiss, as though sealing in the sensation, before he spoke up.

“You were incredibly selfish tonight,” he murmured. You pulled back subtly to glance up at him with slightly furrowed brows, and he lifted his chin from your head to gaze back at you impassively. “You put me through hell, making me watch as you flirted with that man, touched on him all over as you promised him sex. Do you think that was fun for me?”

Your eyes glinted with a hint of guilt, your lips parting with a soft no.

“No,” Coriolanus agreed, his eyes undeniably annoyed as he glared at your guilt-ridden expression. His fingers ventured along your back, finding the zip to your dress, the only thing keeping your body prisoner in the fabric. He tugged at the zip, harshly at first, his need to punish you poking through his actions, but he had to refrain from that for the time-being. More slowly, he began to pull the zip down your body. “I think it only fitting that you should be punished for your little games, don’t you agree?” His eyes flickered back up to yours coolly, almost challenging you to disagree.

The fabric of your dress grew loose on your body, the straps beginning to slide along the slope of your shoulders. You glanced up at him in silence, not wanting to admit the words, but the neediness on your expression told him that you were all game for your punishment—not that it ever was something unpleasant. Coriolanus was always generous when it came to putting you in your place.

“Glad we’re on the same page, dove,” he said, the dress releasing your body at last. It pooled onto the floor around your heels, leaving you barren save for the bra suffocating your breasts. He glanced down at your lower half, faintly surprised to find that you’d neglected the courtesy of wearing any underwear. "Was this supposed to be an apology?" He asked, glancing back at you through a charming smirk.

A smile broke through onto your lips. "I thought it'd make undressing me quicker," you replied, lowering yourself to remove the heels from your feet. You were glad to be free of that hell. They made your calves look good, but they were torture on your feet.

"Well, aren't you considerate?" Coriolanus responded, then paused before adding. "So you knew how this night would end, with you and I nothing but a sexual amalgamation?”

"It was more of a hope,” you replied as you straightened yourself up.

Coriolanus' constraint gave in at your insinuations, his hand moving to caress your cheek, his eyes lowering to your perfect lips that he craved to taste in that very moment. You reached up to deliver the unspoken need onto his lips, but he kept you grounded with a hand around your collarbone. "You're not kissing me with those lips," he told you. “Not after that prick has wiped his saliva all over you.”

His hand left your body to reach into his blazer pockets. He pulled out a key, his hand snaking around your waist to slip the key into the door hole. His face was intentionally leaned close to yours, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of concentration as he struggled to unlock the door, and because he could smell the man’s cologne clinging desperately to your skin. He’d need to take care of that before the evening could proceed, it was a detrimental hinderance to his cock. At last, the doors gave in with a loud click, and he pulled the key from the lock.

He leaned back with a curt beckoning of his chin. "After you,” he said, placing the key back into his blazer, his eyes not once neglecting yours.

You gave him a long stare, almost daring to be disobedient before you clearly thought better of it. You bent over to collect your dress and your shoes before turning to push the doors open. Coriolanus dropped his attention to your ass, which practically begged for his approval as it bounced with your every step. He entered inside after you, closing the doors behind him.

You ventured a few steps into the well-furnished living room of the suite and tossed your clothing onto the nearest sofa, your eyes trained on the glass walls that offered a breath-taking view of Panem. You’d always marvel over the cityscape as if it was your first time seeing it, but in all honesty, it was the fact that the lights of Panem fashioned a different colour each night, and it always seemed to illuminate new buildings and views that you’d never noticed before.

Coriolanus watched you, your hand absentmindedly reaching to hold your elbow as you admired the view—one that you’d already seen countless times before, he thought. He wondered whether you were contemplating your circumstances in this instant, as if the reality of what you’d done had finally started to sink in, and what the consequences to follow would be. He could read you fairly well, but there were still moments that your thoughts were lost on him.

“Are you scared?” He asked, his voice echoing throughout the empty space.

You turned to face him, your hands falling to your side. The lighting was dim, but the amusement etched onto your features were clear. “Scared? I didn’t survive the games only to be scared of you, Coriolanus Snow. Besides, this is hardly our first rodeo. I can’t imagine there’s much more surprises you could spring on me.”

Coriolanus cocked his eyebrows, smiling at those words. He appreciated your effortless wit. Most of Panem’s ladies were annoyingly submissive in their conversation, saying only what they thought he wanted to hear, as though it’d make them more desirable to him. You didn’t need to be told what to say, you just said it, and he was glad for it. Control could be exhausting, especially when he strove to maintain it in almost every aspect of his life. It was refreshing to know that he didn’t have to control your personality, too.

“Good,” he said, inching closer until he could reach out a hand to grab your arm. He turned you around forcefully, cool fingers teasingly tracing the skin of your shoulder as he made his way down to the clasp of your bra. He undid the hook, freeing your breasts from the pretty white lace, before tossing it onto the sofa beside your other discarded items. He turned you back to him, his eyes instantly lowering to the hardened nipples crowning your soft breasts. “Somebody’s eager,” He jested, his voice a soft rumble as his eyes rose to meet yours. “Did you want something from me?”

“You know I always do, Coryo,” you responded, taking your lower lip into a subtle bite.

Coriolanus’s eyes hardened at that nickname. “Don’t call me that,” he demanded. That version of himself had died a long time ago.

Your eyebrows cocked at his tone, your lips momentarily pursed before you asked, “should I call you Mr. Snow instead?”

“Just Coriolanus,” he replied, rolling his shoulders to remove his crimson blazer. Your eyes were stalking his every move. He could tell that you wanted nothing more than to reach out to what little clothing remained on his body and tear it away mercilessly—that you wanted him to take you right here at this very instant. But he was faintly impressed at your patience as you decided against any reckless action, instead opting to wait for his next command.

He folded his blazer and draped it over his arm, his free hand beckoning for you to follow him to his bedroom. “Come on.”

Your eyes followed his footsteps, your disbelief keeping your feet glued to the ground. Coriolanus glanced over his shoulder when your footsteps didn’t commence behind him. Your reaction was justifiable. He’d never once once invited you into his room in all the months you’d lived with him. He knew that you were foolishly thinking that this moment marked an intimate milestone in your relationship, that this act was an attempt for him to show just how much you meant to him.

“Problem?” He asked.

You willed away the dumbfounded look on your face, offering a half-hearted no as you caught up to Coriolanus. As if the sentiment was fragile, you merely walked ahead of him in silence, afraid that one wrong word would revoke the invite.

He trailed behind you as you approached the door to his bedroom. You tossed a glance over your shoulder as you sought out confirmation in your actions. Coriolanus gave a small nod, an encouraging smirk poking through. You smiled back, turning your attention to opening the door. You slipped inside, your attention instantly flying to the furniture that occupied the space. It was modest, very limited to necessities.

The bed, needlessly big, was slightly undone, the comforters left untidy as though he’d just climbed out of bed and the covers half pulled from the pillows—a picture frozen in time. A plate and a mug was stacked onto the bedside table, the previous day’s clothes draped across the sofas near the windows. Your eyes were fixating every detail around the room, as though burning a mental picture into your mind as a souvenir for later.

Coriolanus moved to place his blazer beside his other clothes on the sofa. “Sorry for the mess,” he offered, moving to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. “As I’m sure you know, I don’t usually have the worry of entertaining guests.”

You turned to face him, your eyes lowering to his skilful fingers. “I like the mess,” you responded, making your way over to him. “It feels personal, seeing this side of you—allow me to.” You shooed his hands off the waistcoat, taking his place in undoing the buttons. You glanced up at him seductively, your eyes flickering down to his full lips.

He watched you undress him, slowly but surely, knowing that he could’ve done a much faster job. But he allowed you to take on the role, knowing that it made you feel important, that your body would show him just how thankful you were and how much these little details meant to you. Once you had unfastened the last button, you removed the waistcoat and admired his toned and broad physique, painfully concealed behind his white shirt.

Coriolanus glared at your wandering eyes, wondering whether you were trying to picture him naked. He’d never been fully undressed in all of their little rendezvous, it was something far too intimate for him. And there had only been a few occasions where he’d fucked you with his cock and not his fingers or his mouth. He’d found himself deriving the utmost pleasure when he got to solely focus on how you came undone for him, how powerful his every movement upon you really was.

When your hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, he grabbed at your wrist. “Not yet,” he told you. “You still reek of him.” You frowned at his words, your hands falling to your sides in disappointment. “Come with me,” he said, moving past you toward the bathroom. “We’re going to take a little bath.”

Your interest peaked at his words. “We’re going to bath together?” You asked curiously as you followed after him.

“You’re going to bath,” Coriolanus corrected as he reached the large alcove bathtub. He leaned over to turn on the tap. “I’m going to watch.” His hand trailed the many soaps and balms that lined the rim of the bathtub. He’d made it a mission to collect every scented product he could manage once he got his hand on the money, simply because he could, and he liked smelling good.

“Sounds perverted,” you shot at him, crossing your arms as you watched him draw your bath.

He grabbed ahold of a rose-scented oil and began pouring it into the water. “You didn’t agree to live with me because of my normalcy,” he said distractedly. “But because you knew just how much my so called perversion had to offer your pathetic, little, touch-starved body.”

He tossed a glance at you over his shoulder, satisfied by the red gleam that had snuck onto your cheeks. He turned his attention back to the tub, reaching for a bottle of bubble bath. He began adding it to the water, a few droplets reaching up to stain his shirt.

“In any case,” Coriolanus continued. “It’s the least you could do for me after tonight’s shit-show.” He placed the bottle back against the wall, closing the tap once the water had reached an appropriate level. He unbuttoned the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, taking a few paces back. He jerked his head at you. “Go on,” he demanded.

You unfurled into a dramatic stretch, parading your breasts as you faced him. “Join me.”

He fixed you with an unwavering stare, not so keen to play into another one of your games. “Get in.”

With one last glare, you turned and dipped one leg into the bath, instantly pulling back with a hiss. Your head snapped to face him. “It’s too hot,” you protested.

Coriolanus moved to retrieve a chair from the corner of the bathroom, placing it a few inches from where you stood. He sat himself down, offering a mere shrug to your words. “Good observation.”

“I’m not going to burn myself bloody just so that you can get off,” you spat.

“Then let’s kill some time while we wait for the water to cool down,” he suggested, his eyes once again tracing over every inch of your exposed body with keen interest.

You looked open to his request. “What did you have in mind?”

Coriolanus’s eyes flickered back up to you. “Touch yourself,” he said earnestly. You paused at his words, suddenly looking self-conscious, before you hesitantly began to caress your breasts. He watched your fingers squeeze and grope at your skin, imagining that it were his own hands in their stead, only he’d be a lot less kind in his touch. Your fingers trailed teasing circles around your nipples, further hardened at your own toying and his intense observation.

“Lower,” he ordered, feeling frustrated at your lack of venturing into your lower extremities.

Your eyes glinted at him, a look that seemed to say greedy. Yes, he was. Who could blame him? He’d grown up starving for most days of the year, now he’d take as much as he wanted.

His eyes fixated the hand that lowered in a painfully slow motion across your stomach, reaching that sweet spot housed between your legs. As your fingers began to fondle with your clit, you threw your head back with a pitiful moan. He knew he could’ve extracted a louder sound. He almost felt obliged to take over, but he had to remind himself that you were undeserving of his touch, that you needed to be punished with the urge to feel him, yet be denied that pleasure.

A few minutes of your fondling had passed before your ministrations eventually became too overwhelming to maintain control over your body. You lowered yourself to the bathmat, your hand not once leaving your cunt. You spread your legs open, offering a broader view to Coriolanus. Your eyes were glazed over as you glanced at him. He tilted his head slightly in approval, feeling his own cock growing interested at his view of your pathetic situation.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” he praised, noting the way your eyes lowered to his pants. He parted his legs slightly to take the pressure off of his growing erection, eager to hide his arousal. He didn’t want you to notice just yet how much he was truly enjoying this. Your movements eventually became more erratic, incoherent sounds spewing from your lips.

“I need you, Coriolanus,” you managed to blabber out, your tired head resting onto the rim of the bathtub, eyes periodically fluttering closed as you alternated between consciousness and whatever universe of pleasure was found behind your eyes. “Please,” you begged.

“You’ll have me soon,” he said, “when I see it fit.”

“I’ve been good for you,” you protested breathlessly. “I’ve done everything you told me to.”

“You have a lot to atone for,” Coriolanus pointed out, his eyes lowering to where your hand had slowed its movements. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

You glanced at him past your tired lids, but you obliged nonetheless, adding a finger inside of your cunt to increase the pressure. He supposed it was fair, if he had refused to place his own fingers inside of you. He couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto lips as he watched a stream of white begin to trail from your opening, recalling how good you tasted. It was a shame, really, that it would go to waste onto the bathroom mat instead of onto his appreciative tongue. From the sound of your pathetic mewling and your ragged breathing, Coriolanus knew that you were growing close to your high. He didn’t intend for the fun to end just yet.

“I want you to continue until you feel like you’re going to cum,” he told you, though he wasn’t sure you’d heard him past you own noise. “And then I want you to stop just before that happens.”

“That’s mean, Coriolanus,” you managed to say.

“You haven’t seen mean yet, dove,” he said. “Now stop talking and focus.”

Your fingers picked up their pace with a newfound eagerness, the knot in your stomach growing inescapably larger, the urge to come undone becoming harder and harder to contain. Coriolanus wasn’t sure you’d obey his command at this point, you looked too far gone to resume control over your own actions. His eyes narrowed, watching closely at what fate you’d choose to follow. Much to his disappointment, you practiced constraint, your hips shooting up with anticipation, only to sink to the floor as you denied yourself the orgasm.

You glanced at Coriolanus past your teary lashes, a silent request for praise. He heeded your need, rising from his seat to crouch beside your slumped figure. He combed the loose hair from your face, wiping away the beads of sweat that dotted your forehead.

“You’re too good for this world,” he murmured sweetly. He felt as though he could have choked on the banality of his words, but the soft look in your eyes as you gazed up at him made it worthwhile. He nodded to your hand, still resting on your cunt. “Show me how good you felt.”

You pulled your hand from its playground between your legs, creamy white webs entangled on your fingers. They pulled a string along your stomach as you lifted your fingers for Coriolanus to study.

“It almost looks like you don’t need my help,” he chuckled, his hand fastening around your wrist to bring your fingers to his lips. His blue eyes bore down into you as he took each of your fingers into his mouth. One by one, his tongue hungrily weaved around them, claiming your juices from your skin.

You gazed at him with a wild look ablaze in your eyes. “Don’t I deserve a taste?” You said. “After all, I did all the hard work. I deserve to taste the fruits of my labour.”

“You should be modest,” Coriolanus said once he removed your fingers from his mouth. “Nobody likes a brag.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” you retorted lightly, your eyes glinting with exhaustion. “I like you.”

“Mhm,” he offered softly, placing your hand gently onto your chest. He reached his hand between your legs, an action that caused your thighs to stiffen around him. “Relax,” he cooed, pressing his palm into one of your thighs, encouraging you to open up to him.

“Sorry,” you said, easing off the defensiveness. “I’m sensitive down there at the moment.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, gazing at your fragile expression. Fuck, he could take you right here. His fingers moved with caution as they glided along the folds of your drenched cunt, gathering up your cum into untidy clumps. He followed a trail of arousal that had traveled down into the cleft of your ass, pressing a teasing finger into your asshole.

You gasped at the sudden invasion, and Coriolanus’s throat rumbled with a chuckle. He removed his fingers and brought them to your lips. You glanced at his slender fingers, not needing much convincing to take them into your mouth. You turned your attention to him as you began to suck at him suggestively, exaggerating your head bobbing as you made a point to cover the entire length of his fingers.

He watched you with a lopsided smirk, enjoying the whore-like behaviour you so willingly offered him. Now and again, he’d thrust his fingers a little too deep, more than what your throat could handle, which caused you to gag around him. Strings of your saliva had begun to slither down his exposed forearm, pleasantly warm on his skin. He imagined his cock in the stead of his fingers, enjoying the same warmth and wetness your mouth had to offer.

When you’d decidedly had enough of licking his fingers clean, you pulled your lips from him with a characteristic pop. Coriolanus reached that hand over the bathtub, dipping it into the water to feel its temperature. It had cooled down considerably, but it was still warm enough for a worthwhile soak. He withdrew his hand and wiped his fingers onto his shirt.

“The bath will get cold soon,” he told you. “Get in.”

“Is that all?” You asked disappointedly.

“Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll show you what I’ve got in stock for you.” He straightened up and took a few paces back as you perked with new resolve and found your feet.

He backed up to reclaim his position on the chair, crossing his legs as he watched you. Your back was momentarily on him as you climbed into the bathtub, the water sloshing a welcome. You submerged yourself into the warmth almost instantly, a content groan reverberating in your throat. His eyes lowered to your hand, which had began to spread the foam of the bubble bath across your bare chest and breasts.

“The water’s so good,” you murmured.

“Don’t get too relaxed,” he warned.

“Why don’t you join me, Coriolanus,” you said, your eyes fluttered open as you moved to fold your arms onto the lip of bathtub. You rested your chin onto your arms, glancing at the erection he could no longer conceal. “I’ll take good care of your little cock, that should keep me on my toes.” Your expression beamed at your choice of words, deliberately chosen to get a rise out of him.

Coriolanus merely scoffed at your teasing. He had many things to prove, but the size of his cock was not one of them.

“You sure you could handle me, since you’re still so sensitive down there?” He asking mockingly. He leaned back into his chair, his hand coming up to clench his chin, the other grabbing his elbow.

You tilted your head prettily to one side. “Only one way to find out,” you murmured, leaning back against the wall of the tub as you kicked your foot out and onto the edge. Water splashed partially onto the bathmat, but most had been caught by the bare floor.

Coriolanus lowered his eyes to the puddle. “You’re making quite a mess for someone who’s been in here for less than half an hour.”

“Give me an hour and you’ll see just how much of a mess I can make,” you challenged.

He lifted his chin to face you, his eyes narrowing the slightest. This side of you was something he’d never experienced before; you were a lot more daring, undoubtedly brought on by the importance you felt at being allowed the opportunity to bathe in his bathroom and in his company. He’d like to test just how long you could keep up this illusion of bravery, and how quickly you’d drop it when he had you sprawled onto his fingers.

“Come here, then,” he said, uncrossing his legs and spreading it as an invitation for your thighs.

Your eyes snuck a peak at his hard on before you broke away from your slutty pose and climbed from the warmth of the tub. You took a few steps toward Coriolanus, water and soap slithering down the curves of your body and onto the floor.

You stopped short of his legs. “You’re sure?” You asked, eyes making a point of the shirt and pants he still wore. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with a little less on?”

Coriolanus grunted from a place of impatience, reaching out his hand to grab at your wrist. He pulled you into his lap, rough hands guiding your hips to comfortably straddle his clothed thighs. The soapy water coating your body began to bleed into his clothes, his pants the most affected, but he could hardly be arsed in this moment. He just needed to feel you, needed to use you. His fingers gripped at your thighs, his heavenly blue eyes boring down onto your strained expression as he began to forcibly guide your bare cunt over his bulge.

Coriolanus’s movements set a generous pace, endorphins bolting through your core each time his bulge struck your sensitive clit. The texture of his pants was harsh on your skin, creating a friction that seemed to generate copious amounts of heat—screw sticks and stones, this method of fucking could have started all the fires in the world. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lower half instinctively beginning to cooperate as you rocked back and fourth in sync with his guidance.

Your head came to rest in the chiselled crook of his neck, his earthy fragrance fucking heaven-sent on your senses, further engulfing you in bliss. His throat vibrated against your ear with strained moans, they came as subtle grunts that prompted his hands to speed up the pace. He was so eager to feel you, to settle his drawn-out erection. You winced as his fingers burrowed into the skin of your thighs. He’d neglected all caution in your handling, his need to control your movements overpowering what slither of consideration he’d held for your comfort.

It didn’t take long for the stinging sensation to blend with your pleasure, slurred moans pouring from your lips as you felt cum begin to leak from your entrance. It lubricated the fabric of Coriolanus’s pants, offering some relief from the coarse material. You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your face into his shirt, eager to muffle the mewls of pleasure you seemed to have zero control over. His chest rumbled with a breathy fuck, and you felt his body momentarily convulse with the overwhelming feelings your bodies shared.

You turned your head, your nose brushing against the skin of his neck. Your eyes fluttered open, drinking in the view of his adam’s apple, so prominent and manly. It bobbed as Coriolanus swallowed a moan. You brought your furthest hand forward to hook the side of his neck, pulling him against your lips. He didn’t resist, it’s almost as though he was too focused on his own work to pay attention to your own dealings. You littered sloppy kisses all across his neck, placing extra emphasis around his adam’s apple. You kissed all around the bulge before giving into your thoughts and dragging your tongue over it, leaving a sloppy trail in your wake.

The warmth and wetness of your tongue on his throat made Coriolanus release an unexpected groan, a hand leaving your hips to wrap around your throat. You let slip a chuckle at his action, and he held you out in front of him, his cold eyes glaring into yours as he decided to brutalise his movements. You moaned loudly, the sound strained as you forced it past his suffocating hold on your neck.

“Coriolanus,” you choked out breathlessly, your hands sliding along his broad shoulders. “I need you inside of me.”

“You’ve waited this long,” Coriolanus muttered. “You can wait a little longer.” His hold on your throat grew tighter, your vision starting to blur behind a mixture of fresh tears and your compromised oxygen.

He watched your eyes flutter closed and your teeth clench as you inched closer and closer to your edge, your nails digging through his shirt and into his shoulders, steading yourself against his aggression. His singular hand on your hip began to cramp at his incessant groping and steering, but he was beginning to feel his own orgasm approaching, and that was motivation enough to push through—that, and your whorish desperation.

He released his grip on your neck, the air returning to your lungs as a cough and a splutter. He hooked the nape of your neck and pulled you into the comfort of his shoulder, urging you to rest your tired head there as he finished you both off. With both hands once again firm on your hips, he picked up the pace. He rested his chin onto the crown of your head, his eyes fluttering closed as he allowed the scent of your conditioner to swallow his senses.

With each movement, he brought you down harder onto his cock, craving rougher strokes. The squelching of the cum coating your folds and spreading along his pants was music to his ears, and he gritted his teeth to bite back his ragged breathing so that he could continue to hear the way he’d transformed your cunt. He could feel his own pre-cum trickling from his tip, the warmth spreading along his shaft by the generosity of your wet folds. Fucking hell did he yearn to be inside of you, almost as much as you craved him, but he had to be stronger than his own desires.

It didn’t take long before every nerve tracing the length of his cock began to fire rapid impulses, the prolonged stimulation proving to be too overbearing. His lips parted with strained breaths, the black abyss behind his eyes beginning to birth a cosmos of anticipatory stars. The image built and built until he thrust you one last violent time along his cock, his hips rocking up into you, delivering just the right ounce of pressure before white engulfed his vision.

His grip on your hips loosened, his ears buzzing with the aftermath of his high. He hadn’t even realised that you’d come undone before he had, your whimpers and vulgar pleas lost in his concentration. The only evidence of your orgasm was the new patch of wetness that had marked his pants, a generous mixture of squirt and cum.

Your breathless voice sounded at his ear as you moved your head from under his chin. “I want to feel like that all the time.”

“That can be arranged, dove,” he chuckled hoarsely.

You felt his hand leave your hip, the skin there instantly growing cool. He dragged his fingers repeatedly along the wisps of your hair. It was as though he were petting a dog, only his touch was a lot gentler and more intimate. You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, your lips parting with a content sigh as you waited for the ecstasy of your orgasm to dissolve. You rested your chin on his shoulder, listening to the calm of his breathing, focusing on his hand caressing your hair.

You pulled back to glance at him, his eyes questioning as he returned your stare. Your attention moved to his lips, they looked so soft and plump, not nearly red enough. You’d been robbed of the opportunity to nibble on them, to contort them between your own lips, to taste the wine he’d downed at the party. You didn’t think you’d be properly satisfied until you got your wish. Did that make you ungrateful?

Coriolanus offered a faint smirk, your thoughts loud and clear. How selfish of him, he’d forgotten to kiss you during your little ride. Not a train-smash, he had the entire night to make up for that. His hand on your hair tightened there, forcing you into his vicinity. You wanted to protest at the hairs pulling at your scalp, but you hadn’t gotten the chance, not when his lips silenced yours in a hungry tumble.

He didn’t kiss you as often as you would’ve liked, but when he did, it was always imbued with passion, his movements erratic like he’d been starving and you were the first source of food he’d encountered in days. You got lost in the movement of his lips, the pace so fast that you couldn’t properly match it, though not for lack of trying. You allowed yourself to be swept up in his kiss, accepting that he was in control.

Coriolanus moved his hands to grab ahold of your breasts, his attention marvellously divided between fondling them and tracing his tongue along the inside of your mouth. You moaned into him, the sound muffled and lost to your entanglement. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, offering a sharp nip that caused you to wince in surprise. You felt his lips broaden in a smug smile, his hands neglecting your breasts and trailing a seductive path down your waist to deliver a crisp spank to your ass.

The skin stung where he’d struck you, but he was so quick to soothe the ache with gentle rubbing. The curves of your ass fit so perfectly into his palms. He pulled his lips from yours, not sparing even an instant for you to process his movements before his sharp nose found sanctuary in your cleavage. He littered kisses there before moving to plant a trail around the circumference of your breasts.

“Coriolanus,” you moaned, your head lolling back.

He hummed against your skin, a halfhearted acknowledgement. His hand found its way between your thighs, his middle finger sliding between your labia where beads of your brand new arousal waited to greet him. He slathered his fingers in your juice, lubricating the skin before he slid his finger into your entrance.

Your entire composure collapsed at that, the built up suspense of needing him inside you satisfied at last. Your entrance clamped around him at first, the sensation always forgotten with how few and far apart these glorious moments were spread, but within a fraction of a second, you melted onto his finger.

You nibbled at your lower lip, the bite deepening as Coriolanus’s teeth found your nipple. He alternated between tugging at your hardened buds and swirling his tongue around and all over it, mischievously marking steaks of saliva along your skin. A few seconds later, his ring and index finger joined the party within you.

Your grip on his shoulders lowered down his back, eagerly clawing at the hard and chiselled muscles, but his damned shirt got in the way. You pulled back, Coriolanus’ lips robbed of your breasts. He glanced at you, his fingers continuing their thrusts. Your hands flew to tug at the buttons of his shirt. The first few you’d managed to undo, but you had finite patience for the others, resorting to an aggressive tug that split the buttons from the fabric.

“Are you going to pay for that?” Coriolanus jested lightly.

“I’m sure there’s plenty more shirts where that one came from,” you said hastily, yanking the sleeves down his broad shoulders.

You instantly dove in to kiss at his chest. He’d never been excessively muscled, but he was still strong and toned, his frame broad and absolutely mouth-watering to gaze upon. Your hands wandered along his chest, sliding along his shoulders and down his arms. You attempted to tug his shirt all the way off, Coriolanus aiding your motion as he momentarily pulled his fingers from inside you.

He rolled his shoulders and removed his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. You glanced at his torso, now completely exposed to you. You couldn’t stifle the smile on your lips, thinking that he looked a lot like a male stripper—bare-chested yet still clothed from the waist down, presenting himself on a chair. All he was missing was a sexy dance of some sort.

Coriolanus frowned at your gawking. “What’s on that mind of yours?”

You pursed your lips. “Nothing,” you answered, placing a kiss on his lips. You moved to murmur in his ear, “now If it’s not too much to ask, would you kindly stick your fingers back inside of me?”

When you withdrew to look at him, Coriolanus wore a wicked smirk. “What a slutty thing to say.” His fingers returned to your cunt, but instead of easing his way inside, he opted for his whole hand at once.

You didn’t know whether you were more shocked at his gesture, or the way your cunt had easily welcomed him. His movements were considerably less cautious than before, but you didn’t care about that now, only that he was finally inside of you. You let out a lengthy moan, so eager to verbalise your appreciation. Your hands moved to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading them together as you tilted your head back.

You closed your eyes and focused on his hand inside you, how each thrust grew deeper and closer to your sweet spot. It’s as though he’d already mapped out your insides, his fingers knowing exactly which way to wander. Gods, you truly didn’t know whether you or Coriolanus enjoyed this more. He kept up a regular pace for a while, and you’d quickly grown impatient and needy for his brutality.

“Faster,” you complained.

Coriolanus slowed his movements, coming to a complete stop. He wholly expected the miserable look on your face as your head snapped down to face him. How could he allow you to think that he was here to serve you, as opposed to you serving him. He wasn’t just going to hand you what you wanted, life certainly hadn’t been that generous with him. No, you’d have to work for it.

“Okay, we can go faster,” he said, cocking his head slightly. You regained a spark at those words, but it quickly blew out at what came next. “But you’ll do it yourself, since you’re unsatisfied with what I’m giving you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that—“ you attempted to protest, but Coriolanus cut you off with free his index finger pressing against your lips, his lips fashioned in a hush.

“No talking,” he murmured. “Just get to work.” He beckoned down to your cunt, his hand motionless inside of you.

Devastated at having to do the work yourself, you crossed your arms around his neck, your expression adorably resentful as you lifted your hips and began to ride him. Coriolanus lowered his free hand to rest at your hip, his attention wandering to your breasts. He couldn’t have ignored them even if he tried, not when they were bouncing inches from his face and calling out for attention. Your moans quickly commenced, your hips already starting to tremble with your next orgasm. You tossed your head back, your movements becoming uncoordinated, like your body had already started to give up.

Coriolanus felt your walls begin to clench around his hand, glancing up to glimpse your face. “Look at me,” he called to you. Your head lowered to face him at once, your eyelids drooping. “Are you going to cum?” He asked, and you nodded eagerly, followed by a strewn out moan.

Good, he thought. His hand on your hip began to press against your movements, interrupting the pace you’d managed to get going. Your eyes widened as your orgasm retracted into a dissatisfying gasp, the high that had been building instantly collapsed at your sudden lack of movement.

“Coriolanus,” you snapped, your tone coming across as a whine. You’d become frustrated with his teasing, and your body shared the sentiment. Your clit ached now, exhausted tremors seizing every muscle of your body. “You’re being a dick!”

“No,” he countered, pulling his hand from your entrance. He looked condescending as his eyes flickered across you face. “I’m punishing you, just like I promised. You’re getting exactly what you deserve, but you’re spoiled and used to getting your way.”

You didn’t have anything to retort, so you glared at him in silence, ignoring the hurt that his words had inflicted upon you.

“Don’t pout,” he murmured, wiping his wet hand along your thigh.

Then, without warning, he hoisted you up at the thighs and manoeuvred you bridal-style from the bathroom towards the bedroom. He lowered you onto the undone comforters of his bed, leaning down with you to place a swift kiss on your furrowed brows. He straightened up at the foot of the bed, his hands reaching for your calves.

“You want to cum?” He asked, his fingers wrapping around your legs to pull you down the bed and closer to where he stood. “I’ll make you cum, over and over again.” That was a promise.

Your lips parted with shock, words scattering from your tongue as his hands travelled over yours knees and grabbed at your thighs. He pried your legs apart, exposing your cunt to him. The last view you captured of him was the way his eyes traced your exposed lower half, a barely noticeable smirk pulling at one corner of his lips. Then, his head dipped into you, his tongue flat and rough on your folds.

You threw your head back into the sheets, your fingers instantly curling into the material as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded and preventing you from getting carried away into another universe. Coriolanus was conscious to strike his nose against your tender clit every so often, clearly enjoying the way it sent a jerk through your body. It was like his own personal control-switch to play with. You were too exhausted to limit the noises that you produced for him, so everything came out a loud and blabbering mess. You didn’t ever want to stop being touched this way.

Coriolanus was a clean man. He liked to keep his hair tamed, his jaw void of any developing beard that he felt would deface his appearance. But it had to have been a week since his last shave, you thought. You could feel the faint stubble poking through, grazing your intimate area as he ravished you below. It was the perfect addition to your arousal, adding just enough noise to push you into overstimulation.

You fought the urge to lift your lower half from the sheets, to greedily claim a deeper thrust of his tongue. He wouldn’t take kindly to that, and you didn’t think you had the capacity to endure any more teasing. Instead, you opened your thighs even wider, your hands releasing the comforter to grip at your breasts.

Coriolanus approved of your behaviour, his praise coming in the form of his tongue up your entrance. You let slip a breathy gasp, your jaw clenching at the lightning that seemed to obscure your vision.

“Fuck, Coriolanus,” you drawled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Please—let me cum!”

He hummed against your clit, the vibrations serving as the fucking icing on top of this sex-themed cake. You core knotted, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes screwed shut, the pressure building and building and threatening to spill over as Coriolanus’ tongue picked up the pace. He twirled your clit around, his fingers pinching at your thighs, and just like that, your body released all the tension of the evening.

Your chest bobbed up and down with heavy breathing, not feeling as though you could bear to open your eyes. It’s only when you felt Coriolanus’ warmth withdraw from your thighs that you lifted your head to glance up at him. He straightened up and met your gaze with an impressed look, his perfect lips offering a smile—a genuine smile. The sight set off butterflies in your stomach. He was proud of you and your performance.

“You did well, dove,” he praised.

You beamed at his compliment, words not easily extracted from him. The sheen on his jaw caught your attention, your heart jolting with shame to see him absolutely doused in your juice. It trailed well down his neck and onto his chest, making a point to follow the natural contours of his pecs.

“I’m sorry—“ a hand flew to your mouth, hardly believing that you’d produced a mess of that magnitude.

“Sorry?” Coriolanus mocked, his perfect teeth flashing in a laugh. “Don’t be. It’s a compliment. You show your appreciation like a real woman, just the way I like it.”

You watched as his hands lowered to his red trousers, his fingers moving to undo the button. You glanced back at him in alarm.

“You didn’t think we were done just yet?” He asked, his smile turning wicked as he unzipped his trousers and pulled it down. “I edged you twice,” he explained. “And I’d like to think I’m a fair man. So,” he paused and lowered his underwear, which freed his erection. “I owe you another good time.”

He stepped out from the last of his clothing, towering over your body as he inched his way toward you. “I won’t lie, though,” he murmured once he’d reached your ear. “I’m doing this mostly for me. I think I’ve waited long enough to feel you, really feel you.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes large and pleading like a pathetic mutt begging for scraps. “I don’t think I can take any more, Coriolanus.”

“Did it feel good, what you did just now?”

“It felt like heaven,” you told him softly.

“Then this time will feel like being completely reborn,” Coriolanus insisted, his hand relocating hair from your sticky face. “And even if it doesn’t, you’ll push through because this is your punishment, and punishment is not always meant to be enjoyable.”

You glanced off to the side, hating how much the cold look in his eyes stirred something inside of you.

Coriolanus found satisfaction in the way his words kept you silent. He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him, his thumb pressing into your lower lip before he planted a hollow kiss in its stead. He placed his forearm beside your head, leaning onto that side as his other hand reached down for his cock. He gave a lazy pump across his hard length, a pathetic attempt at spreading his pre-cum. He didn’t need to do any better, not when your drenched cunt offered enough lubrication for him to enter without a struggle.

And it did, without a single hitch, as he pushed himself inside of you. Your soft gasp sounded in his ear, his attention still trained below. Once he was sure he was properly inside of you, he turned his head up and placed his arm on the other side of your head. You felt so warm and welcoming, definitely a lot more relaxed than the previous times he’d stuck his cock inside of you.

He began to thrust, not having much patience to start slow and gradually build up the pressure. This entire evening had been leading up to this moment, the opportunity for him to be in this exact position. He’d spent all of his patience, now he just needed to finish what he’d set out to do. He was pleased to feel your hands snake beneath his arms and take up a hold on his back, that is until your nails suddenly sunk into his skin.

He let out pained moan, his gaze growing fierce at the satisfaction on your face. Two could play that game. He withdrew his length a far way out, his tip almost slipping from your entrance entirely, before he rammed himself back inside with an animalistic thrust. His tip collided with your g-spot, a harsh and sudden greeting to the sensitive area.

You let out a scream, your stomach lifting against him. Before you could process the shock, he rammed into you again, and again, and again. Each time, he returned with the same force, and not once did he fail to miss his target. Your nails in his skin continued to sink deeper, the both of you reduced to nothing more than grunting and gasping.

The bed creaked with every movement, the room echoing with the raw percussion of your skin-on-skin contact. Coriolanus bucked into you with such aggression that he began to moan with every sway of his hips. His hands, trapping your head on either side, slipped behind your head to grip at your hair. He yanked, opening up your neck to him. You moaned as his lips buried against your skin, the tip of his nose flattening into you as his teeth sought out your skin.

His movements became jerky, his teeth gritted as he grunted against your neck. You slipped a hand from his back to bury it into his hair, fastening your fingers around his blond wisps that had turned curly from the sweat of his activity.

“I’m going to cum,” he breathed into your neck, his hand flying to one of your thighs. He pulled it up to wrap around his lower half, his thrusts growing violently needy. “Fuck,” he spat, then called your name desperately. You felt too good, especially now that your walls seemed to clench around him—he knew that you were close, too.

Your second orgasm arrived, the hot wetness pooling around his length. He couldn’t maintain his control anymore. At last, he gave himself over to his pleasure, his movements becoming sluggish as he felt his release inside of you. He didn’t stop his thrusts, not until he felt himself empty every last drop inside of you.

Coriolanus collapsed beside you, his hand finding your cheek and pulling your head against his chest. For many minutes, nobody spoke, each one struggling to regain their breath. His other hand held your lower body against him, keeping his cock secure inside of you. He could feel your mingled juices leaking along his thigh and onto the sheets, a mess he didn’t mind right now.

You burrowed into Coriolanus’ arm, a tired sigh leaving your lips. “Fucking hell,” was all you could manage to say after an ordeal like this. Tonight had been his most brutal fuck thus far.

Your body ached everywhere, and you weren’t sure your swollen clit would ever forgive you for what you’d brought upon it. You supposed it served you right for trying to make him jealous by flirting with another man. You’d never stupidly test his limits that way again, that was for sure. You two laid in comfortable silence, riding out the last of your highs.

“Coriolanus,” you called to him softly, your fingers playing with his. “Do you love me?”

Coriolanus tilted his head down to you, his eyes widening at the sudden question. His lips parted to say something, but he quickly bit on his tongue. It was clear that your need for his attention had grown into something more profound, that you’d started to care about him in more than just what he had to offer your body. He turned his gaze up to the roof. “My position doesn’t permit me the time to love,” he answered carefully.

Your hair shuffled against his arm as you sat yourself up to face him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He turned his gaze back onto you, calling your name softly. “I have goals to achieve in this world. It leaves little time for relationships.”

Your eyes held disappointment. “Then what’s the point of all of this?”

“The point,” Coriolanus said, taking your hand into his, his thumb rubbing comforting circles across your skin. “Is that we keep each other company, offer a comfort that others couldn’t gift us even if they tried. We satisfy each other in ways that only we know how to.”

“So I’m just a source of entertainment to you?” You snapped, attempting to pull your hand from his, but his grasp on you tightened.

“Am I anything different to you?” He asked, his tone level, his cool eyes challenging. “Don’t mount a high horse, not when you entered this knowing exactly what you were in for. I take care of you and I make you feel good—that’s plenty more than you would’ve gotten back in the district and in any other location in the Capitol, for that matter. Would you rather go back to your district, back to a cold bed and an empty stomach with nobody to rely on? Maybe you’d rather I put you on the market for as some Capitol slut looking for her next sponsor. I can make that happen—“

“No!” You interrupted, your hard eyes thawing with a look of horror, like you’d recalled all the terrible memories of your life in the district. It was far from pleasant, a past you’d have liked to forget for good. You had nobody, nothing to return to.

As for the Capitol, you knew that there were infinite weirdos and perverts that would marvel at the opportunity to get their hands on a hunger games victor, especially one that had been branded by Coriolanus Snow more than once. You could only imagine what sort of prize that made you, a collectible to be displayed. The thought made your stomach turn.

“I don’t want that,” you said, your head lowering in defeat. “I just want you.”

Coriolanus’s eyes raked across your figure, so slumped in submission and hopelessness. He realised then just how much he’d broken you, reshaped you into a lapdog that would only eat directly out of his hand. “Good,” he murmured. “I want you, too. Only you.” His free hand moved to cup your chin, tilting it to face him. “And maybe. . . you could teach me how to love.”

Your eyes widened at those words, the hand clasped in his going stiff. He tugged at you, pulling you into him. Your head found its way nuzzled into the crook of his neck, his chin moving to rest atop your head. He continued to play with your fingers, his other arm cushioning your neck and holding you against him. He felt your breathing slow into an easy sleep, your warm breath flushing against his chest. He closed his own eyes, breathing deeply at the sweet scent radiating from your hair. He allowed it to lull him to sleep, mulling over your interaction.

He’d known the truth for years already—that his heart bore no capacity for love. It had saddened him, at first, made him feel as though he’d been formed wrong in the womb. His father had loved his mother enough to bring him into this world—his cousin, Tigris, had loved him, too, to the point where she’d have sacrificed everything to ensure that he’d survived the war. Sejanus, too, had loved him like a brother, trusted him with all that he was, and it had ultimately killed him.

All his life, Coriolanus had been cradled with love, but he’d been forever cursed with the inability to return it. It had taken him years to accept it, until one day, everything had clicked into place.

Perhaps he wasn’t meant to love, not when the world had become a disastrous mess in need of order, in need of somebody to bring it to that stage. He knew then that he could offer the order that Panem needed. Peace came at the cost of blood, and blood came at the cost of strength. Strength meant that love had no place and no say in the hard decisions to be made, for its love that made you vulnerable, and vulnerability was a weakness. He didn’t bear that weakness, and he never would.

As for you? Well, you were somewhat of a complicated matter as of now. When it came down to it—the decision between you and his destiny, he’d choose destiny without a doubt. But for now, he’d keep you close. He’d shower you with attention, spoil you with his touch, offer you everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. And once you’ve lost all worth to him, he’d discard of you.

Coriolanus knew that his path was one headed straight for the top, to claim the title of president of Panem. All that he’d done to get here, everything that he’d achieved up until now, it was all just the beginning. He was glad now—that he could not find it in himself to love anyone. It left him free of any liabilities, gave his enemies not even a fraction of power to hurt him.

For it’s the things we love most that destroy us.

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You MUST know I had to include that iconic line

Anyways, I’m sincerely sorry that this fic is like 15k words. I always tell myself to keep it simple but I’ve literally got no say over what happens once my fingers start typing away. I hope you all have enjoyed this read. I’m not TOO sure how I feel about it, but I think I’ve just gotten to the point where I’ve proof-read it so much that I honestly can’t stand it anymore.

This is my first every coryo fic and it was incredibly daunting to write, considering that he is such a complex character to portray and because I unintentionally resorted to flowing between his and the reader’s perspective, which I usually hate, but shit happens. I’ve never read the books (I am getting them for my birthday yay) so it was difficult to get inside of his mind given that I’ve never trod there before. In any case, I hope that I did his character justice in this blabbering mess, even if I did add my own sadistic twist lmao.

MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVELIES🎄

Your comments & reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you!! ~

I take requests (so long as I’m comfortable writing it) <3

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#bluemerakis fics ࿐#mera’s masterlist 𓏲੭ ˎˊ˗#tom blyth #billy the kid #young coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus imagine #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #coryo smut #coriolanus fanfiction

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court-jobi · 1 month ago

Text

The Bet

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work/characters))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (fem!reader)

Words: 4.2k

Rating: T

Warnings: flirty FLUFF hours, yall, quirkless!reader/Pro-Hero Hawks, tame dressing room shenanigans, light teasing, he fell first she fell harder vibes

Summary:

Hawks loves a playful game, and you're a sucker for each and every one. Till now, you've taken his harmless flirting as just that, but it is starting to seep into you. You're a four time best-selling author– brought low by a boy calling you the most darling things… only today, you'd profit off of his attentions by way of a bet-- or was this just another way for him to spoil you?

A/N: this is one of the first Hawks ideas I had, based on the hc that he'd have an eye for fashion given all those gorgeous accessories he wears... pretty bird likes pretty things. gosh I just love this man. oh gosh, do I part 2 this one? Might be fun… and spicy… edit: now available HERE

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

“Alright m’dear, I'm impressed,” your Winged Hero pins up his wings with a slow clap, “You win!”

As you’re stepping out of the car, suave cheers are the flirty taunt you hear over your shoulder– well, up on the lightpost.

“Win?” you fire back to the source of shadow over you -Hawks- as he hops off and strides over to you, “-were we playing something?”

“The race,” he shares plain as day. “Thought I’d race ya back to the Commission's office, see if I could beat your- charming- chauffeur here since I was on my way too~”

Ah, so it was a one-sided game, it seems. The driver who picked you up from the conference center passes you, poorly masking his exhaustion at the flyboy’s presence at just about every turn. When it involves transporting you, the poor man knows Hawks won’t be far behind.

It’s not like you encourage this behavior… but you don’t stop it either.

Between the two of you, the money on who could remain the most professional in public would sit squarely in your court. But to say it didn’t interest you, this mysterious focus of affection from the #2 Hero in the country? Well, riddle you intrigued. So you let him talk- as long as you keep your ironclad guard up, you tell yourself you’ll resist his teasing just fine.

You shoulder your belongings in order to follow the driver, but slow your pace for Hawks to catch up. He’s earned a bite, with those pretty eyes of his.

“And just how did you know I was even going to the Commission's office?”

“You really gotta start setting your calendar to ‘private’ if you don’t want me seein’ where you’re heading, lovedove.”

You really should be better about changing your working location on your calendar– because if it involves your contract with the Hero Commission, Hawks inevitably will see it. All in all, he's not wrong, so you can't really call him nosy when you've advertised where you'll be. He's notably observant as per his profession, and the dearly devoted attention is… sweet, in its own way.

And the pet names. You’re a sucker for the pet names. How pathetic.

You’re a four time best-selling author– brought low by a boy calling you the most darling things… There’s something oddly American about Hawks’ forwardness, indeed. There’s hardly an ounce of propriety on him. All gorgeous grins, fawning compliments spouting from his lips, and hearts in his eyes.

“But!” Hawks sighs in faux dejection, “since you beat me here fair and square, I guess that makes you the winner this time.”

You bite the inner of your cheek, “And what have I won?”

“That's up to the victor- whoever got through all that traffic to the office fastest gets a favor of their choice. I bet a nice dinner out, buuuut I don’t believe you’ve decided just yet...”

“Don’t you have enter a race in order to win it.”

Hawks lifts his hands, “Nnnope~ I don’t make the rules, I’m just telling you what they are.”

How generous.

“A hero’s favor: I’m speechless,” you fein sarcasm, but it comes out just as flirtatious.

Boyish charm on full blast, Hawks starts walking in reverse a few extra steps: to get a better look at you as you set each perfect stride forward.

“So. What'll it be? Office hours with yours truly? New tablet? Maybe treat you to a subscription for those shnazzy glasses you like so much? I know a pretty neat brand deal who'll be happy to set you up~”

He’s laying it on thick… but from the back of your mind -the part you really try to silence while on the clock as a consummate professional- you throw Hawks a curveball:

”A dress.”

Hawks pauses and blinks, “Say again?”

“You heard me. I want a nice dress. I can't remember the last time I went shopping, plus I certainly don't have my wardrobe from New York– and there's a board dinner coming up next week. So, I'll need a dress.”

“Oh really?” Hawks comes to scritch at what little, tailored facial hair he has, “Done!”

Yes, you needed a dress. Yes, you have a particularly dashing hero willing to wine and dine and hold a childish bet as the excuse for him to buy it for you. Yes, you even have full plans to send some photos of the excursion to him as a little treat for his efforts.

But yes, you’re regretting everything.

Taking a personal day, you drag out your morning routine to maximum enjoyment. A quick, efficient breakfast wouldn’t do today; this called for a home-baked casserole moment to start your time off at home. Light and easy, it held you over through some oddball errands, which you humored your friend back home with as you called her up on the way to the shopping complex,

“//It’s a blend of formal and not, here– like, you’ll have someone dressed to the nines in a full suit, then a girl walks up onto the train looking straight out of a k-pop video!//”

You chatter away in your first language, brain taking a sufficient backseat from the Japanese your father raised you on.

“//Yeah, I mean, I love the looks, it’s just fashion whiplash sometimes. There’s also an insane amount of hero merch- it’d put Iron Man to shame… Oh, for sure, you’d have a field day– and no bank accou–... you’ve gotta be kidding me.//”

Your bestie asks what happened on your end of the line; why your voice suddenly fell to a groaning whisper.

Peeping down from the rooftop of the dress shop was Hawks– a pleased smirk on full display and waving, having lifted your sights with a little whistle that a bird a fraction of his size might have made.

Somehow, you knew better- hearing the utter tease in that bird call.

“//My god… I’m an idiot.//”

Hindsight working as it wills, you realized your regret at telling him where you were interested in going to shop around, and blamed your bogged-down memory that still failed to update your shared calendar and remove some pesky permissions for privacy’s sake. Can’t even say he didn’t warn you- Hawks teased you of it straight up.

These two slips combined meant you should not have thought any freedom would be yours when a muted flash of red rains a couple of stray, baby feathers atop you as you approach the storefront.

“Hiya~!” he calls to your stunned face, which gives way to resignation. Tender, willing resignation.

Hand shielding your face from the sun, you make out where he’s cocked his head at you and simply offer a little crook of your finger to make him come down.

“--I’ll call you back~” you tactfully ignore all of your bestie’s spot-on assumptions that the fabled flyboy had arrived to collect on your winnings.

He was a grown man. Surely a picture to approve the purchase and details for wiring the money at checkout would have sufficed for this little venture- did he have to accompany you?

"Ahhh time for you to model for me, eh gorgeous?" Hawks croons once he arrives by your side.

Your gentleel, pacifying nature mutes the barest flicker of an eye roll. "Please don't make me regret this, dear."

"No funny business, promise," he held his hands out in defense. "A bet is a bet. You claimed your terms, I deliver. I'm just here honoring our deal."

You pause now that you were four feet from the door. For some reason, you felt a pang of nerves underneath your cool exterior. To double it, you were positive his attention should likely be anywhere but here. Seeing as he’s dressed down in street clothes settles that worry, but you still think he should surely be needed somewhere other than a women’s dressing room.

"I never meant you had to be present for redemption, though."

“Course I do. Fine print; ‘must provide adequate supervision’. For posterity’s sake– you know how it is, dove.”

“Seems I don’t know a lot of these ‘terms’ when it comes to you…”

"Humor a poor, losing man's wish. After you."

You couldn't lie, Hawks was a pro at sweet talking and complimenting you- and seemingly only towards you. Press conferences and bathroom trips alike, he seeks out an opening to ask you something so down-to-earth that you never consider a chat with him to be strictly ‘small talk’. Truly it didn't matter the duration– Hawks flew to you like a magnet, but never carried out the same saucy line twice. It’s enough to make you think whatever’s happening between you is not something casual for him…

Not since the night you met, where talk between you lifted the persona of ‘Hawks’ and revealed the man underneath bit by bit. He shed that outer bravado almost immediately with you; you could tell that’s a rare (and perhaps dangerous) move on his part.

To be true, you liked that part. That felt real. It was that rationale which you hung onto. Let yourself be tugged by the side of your brain that allowed Hawks to usher you into a particular formalwear shop you’d heard rave reviews from a coworker a few months into your life in Japan.

This one-on-one time together could be a sweet fever dream– or a horrendous case of honey-dipped hives. You’d focus on the positives for now: so long as he minds his hold on your heartstrings, perhaps your new crimson shadow would prove your mistrusting gut wrong…

Hawks follows companionably behind once you walk in. His wings are shucked a touch shorter today, and elicit a few double takes from some folks between racks.

You note the peeping and low gasps, and cast a look back to him as you turned a corner,

"Second thoughts about a public appearance in daylight?"

Hawks grins back without missing a beat.

"Not a chance~ Wouldn't miss this time for the world."

You start up the escalators and he keeps one step lower. Ever the faithful duckling, when you veer off towards the formalwear, a woman came right to greet you both– immediately recognizing the pro hero at your heels. After you assure her that you were alright managing on your own, you were happy to find Hawks mimic your reasoning when asked again– and kept the interaction short and sweet.

Then the teasing started.

‘D’ya like this one?’ ‘This would hug you in all sortsa good ways.’ ‘Watch out gents, here comes trouble~’

“Red would look stunning on you.”

You eye Hawks playfully– both at what he suggests and the proof that stems from below his shoulders: where he prominently featured the color on his person.

"It's a better color on you, hon,” you hedge against his push for that dress. “Besides, I'm looking for length and cut, not just color."

Less than happy with your objectives, he picks one up anyway. "Sure about that? Give it a real look."

Red, of course, and while you nearly straight-up ignored the selection outright– you thought it over once you saw the dress he was referring to. From an exasperated cock of the head, you straighten up, consider, and hold it yourself. It wasn't bad, actually… The fabric was divine.

You ask for a couple sizes for him to check. Making out the Japanese characters on these tiny SKU cards was still hard to read, so you are genuinely thankful for his presence now more than when you came in.

"Hmmm…” Hawks put himself to work, but fell just as puzzled as you. “Euro sizes here, it looks like."

"Oh crap, that's right..." you mumble through the ‘dress math’ after a quick conversion chart lookup and notice they do have it in your size.

“I’ll– think about it,” you placate him.

Hawks conveniently pulls out his phone and makes a note by your contact– listing your dress size ‘for future reference’.

He didn’t make a show of it, but wasn’t subtle with what’s on his screen, either… so you clear out your phone's notifications with thinly veiled sass and an overactive thumb.

"Are you blushing?" Hawks calls to break you out of your stewing.

"Hush you~" You pocket your phone again while he chuckles.

"Okay okay, back to business. What about this one?"

A deep gunmetal floor length gown is what catches Hawks’ attention next. It’s downright elegant, but a bit over the top.

"Hm, shame. I can see that one for maybe an embassy event..."

Watching Hawks peruse is amusing. He stays away from the flashy, multi-textured colors, but the muted metallics and jewel tones draw him to finger through racks consistently. More to match his suit selection, you figure. So, you entertain him when you circle back to the red dress in your size, and hand it over to him to carry. You ignore the way Hawks’ eyes light up and follow after you, humming some happy little earworm.

"Ooo~ what's this black one by its lonesome over there?"

By the off-yellow tag, he spots a factory sample: ideal length, asymmetrical cut, appealing neckline and just your type. Hawks couldn’t hide his appreciative look your way as he holds it out and imagines it on your body type.

“Well now, that’s cute~”

"Try it?"

You agree and read off the dress size again (more for your memory than his). For a second, you catch sight of the reverse side of the tag, and almost choke as you return to the few items he held draped across his arm, inspecting each of their tags as well, "//Holy hell-//"

“Language," Hawks chuckles.

Your eyes fire humorously back at him, with a firm grip on the price tag of the one in your hand.

"This dress -here- is over a thousand dollars!!" you stage-whisper.

Hawks conspiratorially looks around, and matches your whispered tone, "--You're trying it on!"

"Hawks."

"Keigo–" He reminds you, softer still, and relieves it from your hands to join the red one. "And you're wearing it. What else? You need more than two options."

Avoidant of the pricepoint, you find one in a navy satin and another deeper purple number till you sit Hawks down forcibly on a bench outside when he proceeds to follow you into a room as a gag.

While the blue could use a different size, the black was your favorite so far. You’d be pleased that you won’t leave here unhappy, certainly, if you still weren’t so sticker-shocked.

But then the red dress -perfectly hung and whispering to you- reminds you he was still out there, waiting to see it.

"You still alive in there, sunshine? Haven't heard a peep in a while."

"What, you wanna see every one?" You fire back confidently, but with your pulse racing.

"Only fair. I'm here as a second pair of eyes."

"Hm. That's what I'm worried about."

He laughs it off. "Come out, I wanna see you."

So you slip out of your room in the black midi dress with a little shuffle of your hair, looking damn gorgeous and an ideal knockout in any professional circle. There’s a perfectly-structured, white accented jacket in your arm that you slide on and look across to a mirror.

No second-guessing filled your mind at all when you took in the full ensemble. Pleased, you made your third immediate regret looking through the mirror’s forced perspective at the man sitting behind you.

Yes, Hawks -the #2 fan-favored Pro-Hero- is GAWKING.

"So? What’s the verdict?"

His eyes roam, but meet yours when prompted. "I .. didn't expect anything less than gorgeous on you, but... you are stunning."

The flatterer was present, but the undertone carried out from his compliment seems utterly adoring. Those golden eyes aren't far off from hungry, yet he respectfully rests his sights to your eyes more than anywhere else.

"Do you like it?" Hawks craves your opinion above all.

"I really do." You turn to the side to check your posture, and take the outer layer off again. "I'll have the jacket for other things too, if I go with this one. But I think the straps should be fine for Endeavor’s agency, right?"

"Have you seen Bubble Girl?" Hawks mouths off, now standing by you. "She's one nip slip away from an x rated advertisement."

"Hey!"

"To put it kindly! No, this is- tastefully sexy." The backs of his fingers brush by your elbow. He takes care not to let the touch linger but enjoys the view all the same while he has it.

You smirk back and feel great about your top choice.

"--What about the red one?"

–and there it is.

You fix the jacket collar absently so it doesn’t crease, "Haven't tried it yet."

"It’s next, right?"

You roll your eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"I'm a man of my tastes~ and I have a good feeling about it."

So you change, with a few impatient remarks from outside the door. This one has you a bit more nervous.

The leg slit had you hot flashing on your neck and up your jaw– standing vulnerable in your stall. Checking over yourself, you’re suddenly aware of Hawks’ comments at the apartment that one night after he dropped you off from a spur-of-the-moment karaoke night. Something about the high cut that reminded you that Hawks was a leg man for sure, and he'd surely have a field day seeing a dress with this much skin. The sleeves were shimmering and gorgeous, and you felt comfortable otherwise. So... nothing left but to strut it out and get it over with.

Coming out, you could have snorted at the way Hawks melted.

Wings drooped, the man slack-jawed and eyes blown into an awestruck stare, you feel 90% more proud. Sauntering to the mirror, you fuss over the look in perfect confidence now- spinning to give him the first once-over before you could get the first grand look yourself.

"I'll admit, good find,” you praise appreciatively, thankful he didn’t start howling the second you emerged. “You saw it first. Happy?"

Hawks is quiet for a beat but lifts to your gaze again shyly before looking back.

"Ah... You’re.. really beautiful. I mean, wow," he hides behind some propped up hands.

You smile and don't care now fast your heart flutters. The butterflies warm you all the same, in that special way he seems to bring out in you. What were once nerves turn to calm as he watches you turn and joins your side again, a bit closer.

A strong, soothing hand slightly correcting where the seam fell along your side, you kept your focus on the event itself and not on his touchiness. Much easier to do than reading into Hawks’ reaction and attention on you.

"It’s a little formal for next week, but... I may have to remember to come back for this one some other time. When the right occasion strikes."

That decision seems to break him from his trance: "Oh no– you're getting that one, too."

You whip your head aside fast, "No way. Deal was one dress. That last one is already over 800- plus whatever the jacket was, technically-"

"I don't believe it's your job to worry about cost, sunshine." Hawks pockets his hands confidently, staring you down exclusively in the mirror’s view.

“Haw----Keigo…”

“You won. Winner called for dress shopping. You never specified how many.”

“I’m pretty sure I did name a one, singular event in mind-”

“Nonetheless, I am indeed the loser and therefore the payor of said bet.” Hawks fixes you a firmer look than usual. “I say you get both. Black set for next week, the red for… call it a rainy day.”

You believe his seriousness, but can’t shake a twinge of guilt at the cost. This was a silly bet; a saucy wager between two people that tests the waters of what you’d call this friendship…

“Look– I’m sure money isn’t an object for you, but this would—”

“--be my pleasure.” Hawks won’t let you finish- “C’mon- When was the last time you bought something like this for yourself?”

Hawks holds you by the shoulders to turn back to the mirror. At your quick study over the red semi-formal gown again, you flip your sleeve cuff into place and miss the loving look he gave while pulling your hair back softly.

His fingers return to your shoulders but with the gentlest, experimental touches to your neck in its path.

“You -my darling wordsmith- have, no doubt, the kindest heart I’ve ever met in one of the hardest cities in Japan. Those two things shouldn’t coexist in this kinda world, but you thrive in it. You’re… so good. You haven’t let the hard stuff touch you, even when you’re neck deep in it. Not only that, I’d say you're also easily the most resourceful mind PR’s had in years; hell, of any agency on the field. You’re brilliant, funny, and as I've so recently discovered today– downright gorgeous, no matter what you’ve got on.”

His gaze separates in favor of fixing a portion of hair back into place– light preening, by his standards.

“Gems like you come once in a lifetime; if anyone is that lucky to meet one nearly as great as you… they should consider it a blessing…”

You hadn’t realized you'd leaned back into his space until you register his hand sliding down to caress your elbow, and his other fingers resting right on your waist.

He tilts ever so slightly to speak towards your ear; his eyes meeting yours again, a sparkle in them that has you wrecked.

“You won a stupid bet, sure; but you deserve to be treated more often than once-in-a-blue-moon. Call me selfish for taking the role of the guy who gets the pleasure.”

Your polite smile turns lopsided, just listening to this rare show of heart.

“Please let me do this for you, lovedove. Please?”

Sorry gut, you’ve been proven wrong. He’s a verified angel, and to be frank, you’re tired of avoiding the flip in your tummy when you see him. With Hawks pressed against your back, you’re not troubled by what fleeting intentions he may or may not have– not when you can see them plainly in that pretty face looking back at you.

While your standards had always been on sharp lookout for the catch behind his behavior, what made Hawks’ company something you looked forward to was the heart behind the charm... that soft feeling you caught every now and then when you two spoke behind closed doors or in passing. He carried a depth with him, but also a lightness that seemed to shine whenever he took to your presence– like he was chasing after joy, not just chasing some tail.

Perhaps that was enough for you to want something more than these quick interludes, and draw out this little dress date into lunch.

You nudge your head toward his. “Red, for a rainy day, huh?”

He nuzzles you back perfectly. “Mhm~”

“Rainy days call for rainy dates, don’t they?”

Interest lifts the hero’s wings, but he keeps his voice sure and calm, “Sure would be poetic~”

You don’t break eye contact with him in the mirror while you mesh your fingers with his on your waistline,

“Then I guess a certain someone should ask me. Get something on the calendar he’s actually invited to.”

Hawks matches his hold on your waist fully now, relishing the touchpoints he’s sharing with you.

“Now that sounds like a great idea, sunshine.”

“Maybe.. swap some time slots– over lunch?”

A soft glint in his eye, Hawks dips to give your shoulder a small peck, “Done.”

Happy with your bravery - as well as the amount of eye contact that will last you the next four to six business days- you finally cut away from watching Hawks in that damn mirror, and sway side to side enough to give him the hint you were ready to get changed again. Only before he steps completely away, you catch his wrist with a quick, blind question over your shoulder.

“Hey– help unzip me?”

You’d zipped yourself perfectly fine… this was for him.

A happy little exhale leaving him as he snugs back up to you, Hawks flares out his wings a bit as he catches that tiny zipper until it reaches your mid back right where you could normally reach- and then a tad lower.

“There y’go~” Hawks murmurs to your ear again, “I’ll make sure no one catches an eyeful that they shouldn’t.”

You look back to him over your shoulder, “No one?”

An invitation offered, Hawks gives an appreciative glance down where your dress barely splits open.

“Not trying to jump straight to dessert here, yknow. Sounds like I’ve got a hot date.”

Chuckling, you finally twist and keep your new dress up by the front,

“You’re right– it’s not like it’ll be the last time you see me in this. You wanted dinner out, right?”

Hawks gave an agreeable hum, nodding along the way.

You chip his chin toward you for him to listen,

“Then call me a sore loser next time, so you can collect~”

Part 2

#keigo takami #hawks #mha hawks #bnha hawks #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha

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larcenywrites · 4 months ago

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Now… how do you think Sabretooth will be as an S/O?

I worry about writing for him bc idk if I can capture him properly… but! We can try to dabble around with a few ideas!

Sabretooth x Reader

Warnings: some pretty mild NSFW | no pronouns given to reader | there might be some typos pls let me know if so!

🐈 Honestly who knows exactly how you even managed to become his plaything s/o in the first place….

🐈 Perhaps he even, uh, acquired you!

🐈 Even so, I think Victor will surprise you! Despite the claws and fangs and being muscularly massive, he can be pretty gentle 💛

🐈 Loving? in his own way, sure! But traditionally? Not really 😅

🐈 He probably doesn’t smile much, he probably doesn’t say very much half the time…

🐈 But hopefully you can do all of that for him instead 😉

🐈 Okay, he does smile, but it’s probably more soft and neutral 😇

🐈 And even when he is trying to keep his one more soft and quiet, it’s probably still pretty neutral and gruff

🐈 You probably aren’t ever going to know where he picked up that trinket or ring or whatever the hell else you may find around your bed (and probably don’t want to know), but you can rest assured knowing that he thought of you when he saw it :) yet probably won’t even acknowledge it next time you see him… but if it’s something wearable, he’ll still definitely spy it on you 😌

🐈 I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s a cuddler, but more of a space invader 😼 Sitting on the couch? He’s directly pressed next to you with his arm around you but he’s just there. Not saying anything, not doing anything… really just- go on about your business reading or whatever, he’s just fine where he is!

🐈 In bed, it’s probably a similar situation. Honestly I hope you’re a stomach sleeper because it’ll probably make it easier for both of you when he suddenly decides to come lay on top of you 😅 He’ll hardly even acknowledge it or do anything else! Arms not really wrapped around you or anything. He’s just- there!

🐈 Though, he obviously has his sweeter moments! Sometimes he’ll simply lay his head on your stomach or chest or lap 🥰

🐈 Don’t be afraid to pet his head and play with his hair. He likes it 😘

🐈 Tbh if you roll over to spoon him (aka trying to just wrap yourself over him because he’s likely still bigger than you), he’ll probably growl a little 😔

🐈 Not in a mean way! It’s a soft growl! He’s probably just a light sleeper and maybe it’s supposed to be more like that little acknowledging burr sound cats make when you pet while they’re dozing off!

🐈 And let’s be real, it’s hot even if it is a warning growl 😏

🐈 This isn’t to say he isn’t a cuddler to an extent under the right circumstances! But those circumstances are typically related to him just getting jealous and possessive 🙄

🐈 He can smell whoever’s been hanging around you, and can even smell if they were happy, sad, or horny! He’s usually pretty unhappy about it 😒 and vocal about it 😒 especially if it’s someone he knows and doesn’t like (which is damn near everyone it seems)

🐈 But hey, at least this means that you’ll actually get cuddles in bed tonight! Arms wrapped around you and everything 😃 he’s probably also halfway on top of you buuuuut what are you gonna do? Push him off?

🐈 Obviously the bed isn’t just for sleeping 😏 But when it comes to sex, I don’t think loving and extensive foreplay is usually at the forefront of his mind 😅 besides he… can’t really do much with those claws 😬🫡

🐈 I mean… he technically could… but only once 🤧☝️

🐈 And when he’s in the mood, he’s probably not typically doing the whole handsy stuff…

🐈 He’s probably just going to bite you. Like some kind of overstimulated cat. Right on the shoulder too 🤕

🐈 And he’ll be very smug about it! You’ll swear he only smiles when he’s being a prick in some way!

🐈 You better hope you won the genetic lottery and got some of those regenerative genes or the like because otherwise, you’re definitely just going to have bites all over you 😮‍💨 fangs and all! He’s not shy about where he bites! Thigh? Sexy. On your forearm for no fucking reason? Fun! Neck? Sexy 😏 on your ankle while your legs are on his shoulders??? Now you’re just being annoying 😤

🐈 You’re asleep at 3am in bed? Doesn’t matter. If him crawling onto the mattress doesn’t wake you up, him biting your shoulder definitely will 😒

🐈 His sex drive probably is really high? Like sure, once you get him going, he’s an animal, but he probably isn’t initiating anything every day. Cut him some slack, the guy’s over 200 years old!

🐈 But that probably just depends on his partner as well 🤔 Not necessarily because he’s adaptable, but Victor can smell everything remember? Read something that made you even slightly horny?? He knows and he’s probably on it 😏 So he probably just responds to his partner’s needs!

🐈 You know, bath time is probably pretty great! Sure less stinky is a plus 🤧 but he definitely loves to be bathed 😘 beside it’s probably less hassle for him anyway considering the claws…

🐈 Which also means he probably won’t really be able to bathe you back 😔 you have enough claw marks as it is 🤭

🐈 But lowkey he likes to be taken care of 🥰 he won’t admit it, and he’ll probably play it as more of a I’m high and mighty sort of thing (which is also true!)

🐈 He’s not usually tense. A beast like him never has a reason to! But… he probably does get anxious about like, what he does… all the enemies he’s made… and how it’ll affect you ☹️

🐈 probably avoids bringing up any of that stuff around you, even though there’s, like, no way you don’t know… you just don’t know any specifics.

🐈 Can’t decide if he feels better having you at his mansion or at your own place :( He’d say both are dangerous, but that’s not really it— he’s dangerous 😔

#sabretooth #sabretooth x reader #victor creed #victor creed x reader #sabretooth headcanons #victor creed headcanons #sabretooth imagine #victor creed imagine #anon #anonymous #answered #larstalks

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judenostopwaitkeepgoing · 8 days ago

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Your Villain... on a Leash!?

18+ | Suggestive Content | MDNI | EN-released!Villains x Fem!Reader

How would your favorite member of Crown react if you asked them to wear a collar and a leash for you...?

CW: Suggestive content, Dom/Sub dynamics, puppy/pet play, possible deviations from canon, fem reader, nothing super, super explicit, but these men are filthy so...

AN: Just more of my domming-the-Villains agenda! I feel like most (?) of the members of Crown are tops/doms, so it's fun to imagine them as subs! I just want to boss them all around so bad! Lol, Enjoy!! hehehe

William Rex

Will would have a lot of fun with this. He'd be beyond delighted that you are asserting yourself and asking for something that you desire, especially something that is so naughty. He's not usually the submissive type (his power can literally get him anything he wants lol) but he decides to indulge you because you're so cute when you're bossy. But! Unbeknownst to you, he is already scheming to one day lead you around on a leash in return. But until then he’d be grinning and panting like a true puppy, really playing it up and testing how affectionate of a pup you can handle! It's almost overwhelming! He might even bark!

Harrison Gray

Haha, I can't imagine Harry getting into this, but he might reluctantly wear a collar just for you. It'd have to be a time when no one else would see. He'd be too embarrassed! He would probably draw the line at being led around on a leash. Harry seems like more of a cat than a puppy... He'd come to you eventually and you could at least praise him for being such a sweet boy, enjoying the blush that he tries so hard to cover up. ;)

Liam Evans

Liam is kind of already wearing a collar, how convenient. He would get soooo turned on by this activity lol. The idea of you tugging him around, keeping him close to you all day, petting and praising him...? It would drive him wild. He'd want to do this all the time. He'd lick you and pant and everything. Liam is so obsessed with his mistress. He’d get really into being your sweet, doting puppy that he'd actually whine when you try to take off his collar lmao.

Elbert Greetia

Wouldn’t mind this at all! Actually he’d kind of be into it because it would signal that you want to keep him by your side all the time. He wouldn’t be the most effusive or expressive pup but he would be sweetly, silently awaiting your praises and caresses while you lead him around. The way he doesn't take his eyes off of you like a loyal guard dog is so endearing to you. Once you two are alone, he'd start begging for even more affection from his mistress...

Alfons Sylvatica

Hahahaha! Who knows! Would Alfons be into this? Hard to say! He's so kinky, but he also gives the impression that he likes to be the one in control. He’d probably like to see you try to be his master, and he might even get unexpectedly turned on at this display of assertiveness from you? But... I can’t imagine him being a well-behaved puppy. He'd probably do everything in his power to fuck with you haha. He'd be all like, "isn't it your job to train me?" Yeesh. Roger Barel

“Ooh...? And where would you lead me to, hm?” He’s actually kind of intrigued by this request from you. Roger is a certified top, but since it's you he'd want to see how you go about this. For science, of course. He would love having so many opportunities to get you flustered, since he’s attached to you by a leash. He wouldn’t want anyone to see him in a collar but you, though haha. So you'd have a very limited area where he would feel comfortable enough to be your dog. And, let's face it, he would wriggle out of his collar and pounce on you before you could even lead him around lol.

Victor

The "V" in Victor actually stands for "vers." Lol. Victor happily obliges this request haha. He's such a gentleman and also such a freak lol. How could he refuse. He would gaze at you affectionately while you put his collar on and ask you all kinds of leading questions throughout the day to tease you. “Does my pretty master want me to fetch something for her?” “Does my collar look cute enough for my extra adorable master?” He’d ham it up so much that you'd get all flustered and quit this whole thing. But he'd still be grinning ear to ear, because he's so obsessed with you lmao.

Jude Jazza

Hahahahahaha, oh you silly little robin. You're not gonna do this with him. Lol, so cute that you thought this request could even be uttered. Lmao. He'd pull one of his faces and be all like "Are ya actually a dumbass?" BUT! I could see him enjoying making fun of you for asking this so much that he kind of talks himself into trying it? But only if you're willing to barter. He'd be all like "I doubt you've got what it takes to train a dog like me." You’d have to let him tie you up and lead you around somewhere as payback. And he’d want it to be extra humiliating for you. You're kind of scared to agree to it, but... he’d be so sexy on a leash. Dear god. He’d be so pissy and annoying lol. Bratty puppy Jude? Yes please! Ugh and it would be fun to treat him like a dog for once...

Ellis Twilight

Jesus christ. Imagining Ellis... in a collar? and on a leash? is unreasonably hot??? He would of course be down to do this if you told him it'd make you happy. And of course he’d be so casual about it, just smirking at you and being all like “So that means you’ll lead me around on a walk all day?” He would be so affectionate with you, licking you and rubbing his fluffy hair against you all day. He'd ask, “What if I don’t want to leave my master’s side, even if she takes me off-leash?” And you would just die! Like what is wrong with him??? ugghhhhh, Ellis is THE nosebleed material!!!

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mysticsmollpotatoad · 28 days ago

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Raw idea for Ikevil

Recently I'm into Ikemen Villains. I was hoping to read more fluffy headcanon/scenario about them, but it seems there is a shortage for fluff🥲

I thought about a few scenario, but sadly I don't have the time to write it (or maybe I'm just too lazy to elaborate the idea). So if anyone is interested, you are very welcome to use these.

🌹William with deaf and sweet MC. Imagine how his power won't work on her and how he can't charm her with his piano skills. But all of that makes him more determine to find a new meaning of freedom for her.

👑 Victor with grumpy tsundere type MC. It will be funny to see their banter with Victor teasing and keep acting as if he is hurt whenever MC snap or give him the cold shoulder.

👑 Victor with MC that used to be enslaved. Him and William are all about freedom. So imagine how he would react when he encounter an MC who thinks freedom is an impossible dream.

🪞 Alfons with motherly type MC or dense MC who won't be shaken by his lewd innuendo. It will be entertaining to see him having a hard time.

🪞 Alfons with silly/jester MC. As the saying goes..."If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit". The reason is I want to see him get a taste of his own medicine😌

💎 Elbert with motherly type MC as well. The reason is already clear. A soft MC but also strict with him so won't even get the chance to get any funny idea.

🚬 Jude with MC who could kick his ass. She is very similar to Jude. She is a sadist who won't tolerate his dirty words and won't hesitate to fight him. Obviously they repel each other, but who knows...maybe they can become partner in crime at least.

🍂 Ellis with sarcastic MC. Imagine how MC was just being sarcastic, but Ellis took it seriously. Chaos ensues.

🐱Liam with moon type MC. He is the sunshine and she is the moon that kind of relationship.

☕Harrison with extroverted and teasing MC. Perhaps with personality similar to Victor. Prepare for trouble and make it double..double headache for Harrison.

💉Roger and MC with chronic illness. This might be closer to angst, but I want to see his caring and serious side.

📝 p. s. I just noticed something. Do these boys not have certain animals as their pet? If we are talking about fluff it usually includes quality time with their own pet. Is there really no animal other than that stuffed bird?

#ikemen villains #cybird ikemen series #ikevil #william rex #alfons sylvatica #ikemen victor #jude jazza #ellis twilight #elbert greetia #roger barel #cybird ikemen #cybird #Ikevil headcanon #liam evans

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kohabielnin · 9 months ago

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General Relationships

To celebrate my birthday today (February 5th), I thought I'd share some General Relationships with my favorite characters, I just put those that don't have a general relationship or bf

To be honest, I had forgotten that the Cheshire Cat has one, but as I only remembered it when I was finished, I decided that it would remain

Morningstar/Ithaqua

• As a king, he is a bit busy and sometimes forgets to pay attention to you,

• For me, there are few things he doesn't know how to do,

• Another who is cute when he wants to be, but to the public he is an evil sadist,

• You are still the only person who has seen his gentle and loving side,

• A complete little love in private,

• He is very afraid of losing you, even if you say you won't leave him

Moonlight Gentleman/Joseph Desaulnier

• He often acts like a dog,

• He loves to caress his ears and especially if you massage them, you can be sure that you will have a puppy with a wagging head,

• Exorcist to this day has not said his opinion due to the relationship you have with Moonlight,

• This dog man, just hearing his name makes his tail wag,

• He tries to hide the fact that his tail is wagging in your presence because he thinks it's embarrassing, even if you say it's cute,

• To be honest, I would like to have a Moonlight of my own because he's so cute, but I have to settle for his skin

Exorcist/Aesop Carl

• I have some controversial opinions regarding him,

• He could go from calm to cold in seconds,

• Moonlight really likes your relationship for some reason he never said,

• As an Exorcist, he sometimes comes home very late,

• He's not much for physical contact, but he enjoys stroking your hair,

• You, him and Moonlight watch the sunset every day together

Phoenix/Aesop Carl

• This man is cute and shy because of his fear of being hunted,

• Likes to watch the stars with you,

• In my opinion, he and the Cheshire Cat are the cutest, right after Victor Specter,

• He tries not to be so cute, but he just can't,

• He really likes sweets and his food,

• A great, gentle and kind companion who won't leave your side unless you ask

Cheshire Cat/Naib Subedar

• He's cute, without a shadow of a doubt the cutest after Phoenix, or even before,

• Purrs while you stroke his hair,

• Even though he is half feline, he doesn't have much freshness to eat,

• Don't think you can pet his tail, he will still bite and scratch you if you do that, he doesn't like having his tail touched,

• He likes to sleep on your lap or on top of a tree like a cat,

• The only thing he doesn't like is you changing your tone of voice when calling him, after all he doesn't like feeling like a pet

Luca Balsa

• To this day he wonders why you chose him,

• Already made a kitten robot for you,

• He doesn't really know how to be affectionate, but the important thing is that he tries,

• He's a bit annoying because of his low self-esteem,

• Alva never stops thanking you for taking care of Luca,

• He's a little jealous and doesn't like seeing you around Kevin

Edgar Valden

• He is annoying, very annoying, doesn't like anything and complains about almost everything,

• The only thing he openly says he likes is painting with you, but only also,

• He's a real tsundere,

• When he wants to, he is kind and leaves his arrogance aside, but only if you two are alone,

• He likes having you sitting on his lap,

• You may have accidentally become his muse

Matthias Czenin

• His attitude has always been a little shy and almost everything scares him, not that you can blame him,

• You two already tried to get rid of Louis, but it didn't end very well, unfortunately,

• He loves your company and feels calm in your presence,

• Louis seems to have a strange attachment to you, honestly, this scary doll,

• Please try to get rid of this doll, he is completely scary...

• Sometimes, just sometimes Louis lets you two have your privacy, but just as he disappears, he appears

#identity v x reader #joseph desaulnier x reader #aesop carl x reader #naib subedar x reader #ithaqua x reader #matthias czernin x reader #edgar valden x reader #aesop carl Phoenix #ithaqua morningstar #naib subedar cheshire cat #joseph desaulnier moonlight gentleman #aesop carl exorcist #luca balsa x reader

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victorluvsalice · 1 year ago

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-->And then I noticed Shadow was whining for a walk, and Alice's Fury was starting to build to dangerous levels, so Victor got sent out to take the dog on a nice long stroll around the countryside, and Alice got sent out to indulge in some zoomies! Leaving poor Smiler back home to handle the farm all alone. XD They did quite well on their own, though -- finished cleaning up all the plates; started the laundry; petted the kittens; harvested all their herbalism stuff and plasma fruit; gave Moory a good thorough brushing (which she enjoyed) and told her a joke (which she didn't); and fed the chickens, gathered the eggs, and cleaned the chicken coop! I mean, it's pretty easy to get around when you're a vampire and have one of the game's best teleports with bat form, but still. Good job, buddy! :D

-->Victor and Alice eventually came back from their adventures in the countryside -- though it took Victor a little while longer than Alice. Mostly because Shadow kept doing that thing that Sims 4 dogs sometimes do on walks, where they just run off in a random direction REALLY FAR AWAY, and then their owner gets stuck waiting for them to come back. (Though at least once Victor turned the tables on Shadow by running far ahead of HER, as you can see in the pictures.) I finally ended up just canceling the walk entirely when Victor got REALLY stuck on the bridge over the river Bagley near their house. Mostly because the poor guy was STINKING, and he couldn't do anything about it until the damn walk was over. Once he was freed, he was able to Scruberoo himself -- and pick up Shadow's poop, because of COURSE she waited until this very moment by the bridge to do her business. *sigh* At least it's good fertilizer!

-->Alice, for her part, came back from her Zoomies in good temper, and after a somber howl to drop the Fury down to pretty much nil, went ahead and had a little dance time before marking her territory and getting in a nap. She woke up and changed back to normal around the time Victor got home, and then went to see if Moory would enjoy her jokes better -- apparently not, judging by that facial expression. This cow does not have much of a sense of humor! *shakehead* Sad.

#sims 4 #the lazy save #victor van dort #alice liddell #smiler always #Victor and Alice: Bye Smiler we're off to walk the dog and walk myself have fun running the farm!#well Smiler did pretty well for themselves #like I said having that bat teleport helps but still XD #and yeah poor Victor spent so much time just standing around as Shadow ran all over the damn countryside #like I don't know WHY the game allows dogs to do that #I know that dogs may often want to run ahead of their owners but still #that's a bit extreme #at least Victor was able to get her to come back to the bridge in the end #and use Scruberoo to fix his stinkiness problem #a shame that I'm pretty certain you can't Scruberoo pets #that would make bathtime a whole lot simpler #ah well Shadow will be scrubbed sooner or later #and yes Moory is a hard cow to please sometimes #at least she hasn't kicked over the milk pail yet!#queued

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dark-frosted-heart · 5 months ago

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He Doesn't Know That I Turned into an Animal - Roger Barel (Part 2)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. None of my translations are proofread until a day after posting

Kate: Woof! Woof!! (I refuse! Absolutely not!!)

Roger: Hey, stop struggling. Do you hate baths? But we can’t sleep in the same bed if you don’t take one.

Despite my desperate attempts to resist, Roger picked me up and carried me away.

Kate: Grrr… (I don’t want to…)

Roger: Come on, stop whining. You can’t run away now so just accept it.

As he tried to calm me down, he poured hot water all over my fur.

He lathered me up with soap and proceeded to wash me gently and carefully.

Kate: Grr…rrrr…(Please…stop…) …

It was a mortifying experience, but Roger's skilled hands felt soothing.

Roger: What, you’ve quieted down now? You’ve realized how good a bath feels, haven’t you?

Kate: Arf… (Yes…)

Roger: Haha, I’m glad you’re liking it. You did a good job. Now I just need to rinse and towel you off.

Back in the room, Roger wrapped me up in a fluffy towel and dried me.

Roger: You struggled at first, but then calmed down later. …Good girl, good girl.

Roger patted my head with a gentle smile.

(Ugh… I give in when he washes or pets me…)

It felt so good being pet by Roger’s large hands and I wagged my tail in defeat.

Roger: Alright, Ale’s turn next.

Ale: Woof?! (My next meal?!)

Roger: Hahaha, don’t you hate baths too? Do you think you’re getting food again?

Ale: Arf! Arf! (Food! Food!)

Roger left the room with Ale happily trotting after.

A while later, an exhausted-looking Ale and Roger returned.

Ale: Awoo…(Wahhh, I was tricked…) Arf, arf! (Roger was so mean, torturing me with hot water!)

Roger: Cheer up, Ale. Here’s a treat for putting up with the bath.

Ale: Woof?! (Treat?!)

Apparently Ale only understood Roger’s name, and the word “treat”.

Wagging his short tail, Ale ran around Roger’s feet.

Roger: Hey, you want a treat too?

Roger held a biscuit out to me.

Roger: It’s a baked treat for dogs. There’s not much flavor and no unnecessary ingredients.

I ate the biscuit from Roger’s hand. A mild sweetness spread in my mouth.

Roger: Tastes good?

Kate: Arf! (It’s tasty!)

Roger: Haha. You probably don’t understand a word I’m saying…But it sounds like you answered me just now. Your owner’s probably worried about losing such a cute dog.

(...That reminds me, has Crown noticed that I’m missing?)

(I have a couple of days off from being a fairytale keeper, so they might not have started looking yet…)

(Even if they did look for me, they won’t find me because I look like this…)

Roger: Hey. If we can’t find your owner, then… I’ll take care of you. The work put into taking care of one or two dogs isn’t so different. Plus I’ll be twice as happy.

(Roger…)

(Honestly, if I can never turn back…this doesn’t sound so bad)

With how much Roger cares for dogs, I’d live a happy dog life.

(Mmm…?)

I suddenly woke up in the middle of the night.

The only one sleeping beside me was Ale who was snoring away.

(Huh? Where did Roger go?)

(We were sleeping side by side…Did he go out drinking?)

I hopped off the bed and followed Roger’s scent.

I left Crown castle and finally found him.

Kate: Arf! (Roger!)

Roger: …What’re you doing here? Did you follow my scent? Amazing…

(What’s Roger doing sitting out here in the middle of nowhere?)

I sat down next to Roger and observed him.

Roger: …Since there’s nothing in the way, I can hear the town pretty well.

Roger listened carefully for a moment before he stood up with a look of frustration.

Roger: Damn it…I can’t hear anything. Just where the hell did you go,—

The name he muttered was drowned out by the wind.

(What’s Roger listening for…?)

Roger: Sorry for keeping you out so late. Let’s head back to the castle.

(Roger really is feeling down…)

(...Cheer up soon)

When he returned to Crown Castle, Victor was waiting for us in the foyer.

Victor: How did it go, Roger?

Roger: No good. Couldn’t hear anything. Not a cry for help nor footsteps…Nothing. I don’t even know where they went.

Victor: I see... Then I’ll keep looking too.

Roger and Victor looked so serious and the air was heavy.

(Roger and Victor are looking for someone…)

(From the mood, is it related to a mission?)

Victor: …Oh, is this little one the lost dog you mentioned? Come here, come here~

Victor casually beckoned me over.

(......Huh?)

(Why won’t my legs move…?)

I looked up at Victor again—And for some reason, was filled with an indescribable sense of fear of him.

Kate: Grrrrr…! (Scary…!)

My teeth were bared and a growl escaped my throat. My fur stood on end and I couldn’t stop shaking.

To shake off my fear, I quickly hid behind Roger.

Victor: Oh my…She’s hiding from me.

Roger: What did you do, Victor?

Victor: I didn’t do anything! However, animals have always avoided me…

Roger: Maybe it’s animal instinct. They know when someone’s dangerous.

Victor: Dangerous? I’m happy, lucky, friendly?!

Kate: Awoo…(I’m sorry, Victor)

Victor: Oh, do you feel sorry? You’re a sweet girl. It’s okay. Even if you’re afraid of me, I don’t hate you. Love & peace!

I felt a little relieved that Victor was as kind as ever, even with dogs.

Victor: Even so, you’re quite taken with Roger, aren’t you?

Roger: I’m used to handling dogs. But… Sorry. I’m gonna have to put off looking for your owner for a while tomorrow.

(I don’t have an owner so I don’t mind at all, but…what happened all of a sudden?)

When I tilted my head in confusion, Roger continued.

Roger: …There’s something else I need to do.

The next day, after I spent one night as a dog, Roger had been rushing around making preparations since early morning.

Ale: Arf?! Arf! (Do you wanna play?! Roger!)

Roger: Sorry, Ale. You’re staying home today… You too.

Roger patted our heads and turned to leave.

(He’s going out to do the thing he “needs to do” that he mentioned yesterday)

He’s likely going to “hunt someone down”.

Last night, Roger was listening for a voice or footsteps in town.

(I want to help in some way too…!)

Kate: Arf arf! (Please take me with you!)

Roger: What’s up? Why’d you bark all of a sudden… Are you…feeling lonely? You’re so spoiled.

Ale: Arf arf arf!! (I wanna come along too, Roger!)

Roger: Ale too…Guess I got no choice. It’s not like you’ll get in the way so I’ll take you both along.

(Yay! I get to go with Roger…!)

(Now if only I knew who he was looking for…)

Roger: …Now that I think about it, you followed my scent last night, didn’t you?

Kate: Arf! (I did!)

Roger: Can you follow this scent too?

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger

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ihavethedreamies · 9 months ago

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Desert Storms | Woozi

Lee Jihoon (Woozi - Seventeen)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4k

Pairing: Woozi x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Doll, Baby Girl, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), 69-ing, Bondage? Tied up but not like that, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!)

Author's Note: I plan on doing a story for each member of Seventeen that is this Sci-Fi, desert world, Alternate Universe, but not according to any kind of schedule.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Hoshi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

-> S.Coup's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Shit. Shit. Shit-" You cursed. You cursed yourself, you cursed the desert, the planet, everything. Why? Sandstorm. Your rover was having trouble keeping ahead of it and you were pushing her to her limits. One of the real issues with sandstorms on the planet of Sierra-Victor-Tango versus Earth was…acid. The giant burrowing space worms that lived under the dunes spit literal acid. Because of this, the sand at deeper levels was infused with that acid. So, you really, really didn't want to be out in that. The problem was, if enough of the acid sand hit the rover, it could damage it badly, and take out the glass. Then you would have been screwed. The storm was getting worse as it traveled and to stay on the road, you couldn't drive straight away from it. All of a sudden, a message came over the transceiver.

"Hey, uh, I can see you from my base. In like a kilometer take a right and then you'll be able to see it and then you can just drive straight in." A man's voice came in, the receiver made the audio crackly from the high wind. You knew about the base, but it was private, so you didn't really know anything about it. If the guy was offering, you would take him up on it. You hit the button on your radio and shouted over the noise, "Okay, great, thanks!" You weren't sure if he saw you on some kind of radar or what. Right where he told you, you took the turn and cringed at the rattling noise your rover let off. Unfortunately, the direction he had you turn was leading you more into the path of the storm. Luckily though, you didn't have far to go. Slowing down a bit, you saw the hatch to the base open just enough for your rover to fit through. As soon as your rover started to go down the ramp into the base, the door closed, and you could hear your own thoughts again. Slowing down, you sighed in relief and stopped the rover. There was another one parked down there that was much nicer and much bigger. You pulled up and shut it off, honestly not knowing if it would start when you went to leave. The motor rattled as it shut off and you had to kick the door open after you pulled the handle. Slamming the door shut, you coughed as a bunch of sand dust blasted back at you.

"How'd you get caught out in a sandstorm?" You recognized the voice of the guy who contacted you, actually able to hear it clearly. You stepped around the rover to look at him standing in the doorway that actually led into the base. He was…gorgeous actually. Not very tall yourself, you had no room to talk, but he was pretty short. However, he compensated for this by working out it seemed because he was thick. His black shirt was sleeveless and tight, his pants were equally as tight. He had longer wavy black hair pulled halfway back into a small ponytail. You waved to acknowledge his presence and retrieved your pack from the hatch of your vehicle and slung it onto your back. Approaching him, you got an even better look at his face. There was a small scar over his brow ridge that left a clean cut into his eyebrow, another small scar on the opposite cheek near his jaw. A set of snakebite piercings rested under his lower lip and his eyes were red. Not like bloodshot, his irises were red. You didn't know if it was natural or not. His ears had some ear piercings, a long pendant hanging down from the left ear with an upside-down triangle-like design. Each finger had an identical silver ring on them that probably served some purpose.

"Thank you for letting me shelter here." You told him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

"Here." He reached for it, and you hesitated for a second but handed the large pack over, keeping your satchel with you. Motioning with his head, he went deeper into the base, and you went up the short three metal stairs and inside, the door sliding closed behind you. You followed him down the short hallway, the metal was old and worn but more or less clean. There was an intersection not too far down the hall, but he kept going forward. You reached another sliding door and when he led you in, it was a stark contrast. Everything looked brand new, fancy, top of the line. It was a giant open living space with a large sectional couch and fancy holo-screen. There was a giant round table to the left and there was a decorative wall that had the kitchen on the other side. It looked like there was another big open space behind the kitchen with a bunch of consoles and other equipment set up. On the other side of the living room there was a large bedroom with the doors open and the hall went in both directions past it.

"Wow…" You gaped, looking around. The same logo that was on his earring was found in multiple places around, a big hologram floating above the center of the table, printed on the glass of the decorative wall, even scored into the glass of the coffee table.

"The storm is supposed to dissipate soon, but then another big one is coming in. You can stay here through it, no one else is here. Normally my co-commander is here too but he's not right now." The man told you and his voice brought you attention back to him. This place looked like more money was put into it than your entire hometown.

"What is this place?"

"Ever heard of the Rangers?"

"Yes?"

"This is our main base." He motioned with his head again and you followed after him as he led you down the hallway to nearly the end. The door at the end opened and he had brought you to a beautiful bedroom with a sitting area, king-sized bed, and a giant bathroom behind the bed.

"I can stay here?" You gawked and he let your bag thump on the ground as he smirked.

"Yeah, no one is using it. Woozi." He held his hand out and you nervously shook it. Even though he himself was pretty short, you were still a good three or four inches shorter than him.

"Oh, uh, (Y/N)."

"Where are you from?" Woozi moved back out of the room, and you trotted after him as he led you back toward the kitchen.

"Morgran town." You informed. He told you to take a seat at the counter and you jumped up on the stool and he opened the ice box.

"I'm not a wonderful cook so I don't have any fancy ingredients, but I can mix all this together with some rice." He had taken a bunch of small containers of leftovers and set them on the counter.

"Okay!" You were starving and hadn't had a normal meal in quite a while. He set up the rice cooker and you wondered if this was how homes on Terra looked.

"Were you born here?" Woozi asked.

"Yes. You?"

"Nah. I was born on Pledis and moved here when I was about eighteen."

"Why?"

"The co-commander, Seungcheol, convinced me to come here with him and start our own faction of Rangers. Not only are there a lot of runaway criminals here, but a lot of people who need help in the middle of the desert." He cast you a sly look as he hit the button on the rice cooker. You laughed nervously at this, and he leaned against the counter in front of you. Lord, he was hot. The way he was positioned, the muscles in his arm flexed and his shirt spread tight over his chest. He huffed when he noticed you were ogling him, and his hand came to your chin. He moved your head up, so you looked him in the eye again and your face exploded into a blush.

"U-uh, I…I'm-"

"Don't worry, doll." He tilted his head to the side, looking over your face, his thumb coming up to stroke your bottom lip. Woozi backed up with a smirk and you avoided his gaze, turning in your stool to get down and go near the couch.

"Your holo-screen is huge." You marveled and he moved out of the kitchen to join you, pointing for you to sit.

"Tap the table." He told you and you saw a little flashing light and pressed it, a holographic module popping up that worked as the remote.

"Watch whatever, I have to go finish something." He told you. You watched from the corner of your eye as he went to the room behind the kitchen, your eyes moving down to look at his ass in those tight black pants. When he got completely out of view you looked back at the module and found a listing of movies and shows that you had only ever dreamed of seeing. They even had ones that were over a hundred years old! Selecting one, a movie series based off an even older set of books about elves and wizards, you sat back to watch it. There was another button on the module that flashed, catching your attention. You tapped it, and a second smaller screen popped up in the corner showing the radar of the storms incoming.

"Shit." You groaned. Woozi had been right. The one you just escaped was still lingering over the area and there was another bigger one coming right behind it. At the bottom of the corner there might have been a third one developing as well. Oh well, it could be worse than being stuck in a fancy underground base with an extremely attractive man.

It was only about thirty minutes after you started the movie he came back out, the only reason you noticed was because the rice cooker had gone off. Pausing the movie, you got up and went to sit at the counter, watching as he mixed everything together and your mouth watered. He left it all in the same big bowl, grabbed two spoons, then nodded for you to follow him back into the living area. You hesitantly sat down, and he sat way closer to you than you even hoped for and handed you a spoon. Glancing at him, you sat back still mostly rigid, and hit play on the movie. After you got to eating it and realized how starving you were, you soon forgot that he was so close to you. He watched in amusement as you scarfed it down and you both had soon finished it off.

"Thanks for letting me stay here. I looked at the radar and it looks like the storms are just going to keep coming." You groaned, resting your head on the back of the couch. Your eyes were closed so he took the chance to look you over like you had been him. The thin fabric of your shirt had ridden up some and revealed the smooth skin on your tummy and waist, tanned with a smattering of freckles from sun exposure. Your long hair was tied back in a braid, and you wore tight leggings with mesh side panels to allow for more breathability. It wasn't too often he ran into anyone, even women, who were that much smaller than him, let alone that cute. His eyes shot back to your face, your eyes still closed and he wondered if you had fallen asleep already. Woozi wanted to just grab you and haul you onto his lap. Living out in the middle of the desert with only the rest of the guys in his Ranger group didn't give many opportunities for him to be with a woman. Now, one had just happened to show up. He didn't want to push it, but with you how you had been looking at him…

"Ugh, I think I wore myself out trying to get out of that storm. The adrenaline has finally gone away it seems." You tipped your head back and forth, your neck popping to relieve some pressure. He glanced at his watch, and it was pretty late. This time of year, the sun didn't get very low, so it was bright nearly all of the time.

"Go sleep then. If I'm not out here when you get up, you can just grab whatever from the kitchen. I'll let you know if the storm lets up sooner." He stood up with the bowl to clean it up and he watched you trudge sleepily down the hall and into the room he let you use. When you got in there, you marveled at the luxury and peeled your clothes off so you could take an actual legitimate shower. The water felt like heaven, and you were glad your spare underwear and clothes were clean. Just putting on your leggings over your panties and redoing a wrap-around breast band, you climbed in the amazing bed and immediately fell asleep.

A loud and echoing crash startled you awake, the sound of metal crunching was the opposite of reassuring. When it happened again you jumped out of the bed and ran out of the room and down the hall. You assumed the only room with the door closed was his and you got ready to knock, but the door just slid open. He was sitting up at a desk across from the bed and he glanced over at your panicked face.

"What the hell was that noise?"

"The metal crushing?"

"Yes!" You gaped and came further into the room.

"Sand worm. We're fine." He assured you, and when it happened again, you jumped so hard he got up and went to you.

"Hey, it's fine." He placed his hands on your arms, and he felt you were shaking.

"That's NOT a sand worm." You insisted, the noise happened again but louder. Even he was a little surprised by the volume of it and he walked past you and toward the equipment room. You followed close behind him and he typed on the console and a hologram of the base popped up, a bright red flashing dot appearing the top right corner.

"Oh, great." He grunted and you looked at him then back to the dot.

"What?"

"The storm must have damaged the drone silo; it seems they're all falling out of the hangar." He clicked his tongue, and you sighed in relief. Sure, that sounded expensive, but a giant monster wasn't going to break in. You were still shaking a bit; your adrenaline had spiked again but your body was so worn out that it wiped you out more.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" He stepped closer and he was dangerously close to you now.

"I won't let anything happen to you, doll." He smirked, his finger coming up and brushing a lock of hair away from your face, which turned red.

"No?" You stepped even closer, your own hand moving to trace over the rings he had on each finger. The smirk grew and the hand you were touching wrapped around yours and he pulled you to him. Chest to chest, his other arm wrapped around you, your other hand resting on his shoulder. Woozi brought your linked fingers to his lips and kissed over your knuckles, and when he reached your thumb, he sucked it into his mouth. You exhaled harshly and your free hand cupped his jaw.

"How about I help you relax?" He asked, his fiery gaze meeting yours.

"Please." You whispered; his lips so close to yours now. Letting your hand go, you dropped it to his other shoulder, and his strong arms engulfed you, pressing you into him. Woozi sealed his lips over yours and you whined, his tongue immediately swirling around yours. He tasted good, almost like some kind of soda you only had once or twice in your life. His hands on you were hot, his body pressed to yours was hard and his kiss was consuming. When he finally pulled away from the kiss, a trail of saliva connected your lips and you nearly slumped against him. His presence was all encompassing, and your head was already swimming, he was some kind of drug.

"Can I do something?" You ask, his lips still close to yours, your breath mingling.

"Whatever you want, doll." Woozi complied, so you pulled back a bit but instead of stepping away from him, you sank to your knees. His finger came to your chin and made you look up at him.

"If you're going to do that, I want you to sit on my face while you do." He told you and your eyes widened.

"Okay." You shrugged and instead of reaching his hand to help you up, he bent and scooped you into his arms and carried you to the bed. You weren't big, but he did it so easily. Letting out an 'oof' as he dropped you onto his bed, your eyes got bigger as he began to strip. The tight black shirt came off and you nearly drooled. His body looked just as good as it felt, and you couldn't wait for him to drop his pants. He undid his belt and with an aggressive snap, he pulled it off and dropped it on the floor. With a smirk, he made eye contact with you and let his pants fall. You were not expecting him to have nothing on underneath and his hard cock bounced some from being released, smacking against his stomach. Your mouth watered. Stepping out of the clothes, he stalked over to you and pushed you onto your back. It wasn't hard or aggressive, more playful, and he hooked his fingers in the waist band of both your leggings and panties, then yanked them off. Woozi deftly unsnapped your breast band and threw that off you as well. Laying on his back, he patted his shoulders and you hesitantly moved to where he wanted you.

"Come on, doll." He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled your dripping cunt onto his face. You squealed, falling forward, and catching yourself on your arms. You found yourself right in front of his pretty cock and since he was already shoving his tongue into your core, you enveloped the head of his cock with your lips. Neither of you could get over how the other tasted and he grunted when you just kept swallowing his cock deeper into your mouth and throat. His arms tightened their hold around your thighs, and he sucked on your clit. You twitched at the sensation, losing your pace and you gagged on his cock. The spasming of your throat squeezed his cock deliciously and he couldn't wait to fill your cunt. When he buried his tongue inside you as deep as he could, you moaned again, the hand loosely holding his cock squeezed a bit and his hips jumped, making you swallow him more.

"Cum, doll." He ordered, nipping your clit and you did as he told. The vibrations of your moan hit his cock and you sucked hard, setting his own orgasm off. Spurts of sticky white cum painted your throat and mouth and dripped down his shaft when you couldn't contain it all. Still semi-hard, you pulled your mouth off of him with a pop, then licked him clean.

"You taste so good~" You cooed; he was about to tell you the same thing. Helping you dismount his face; you just roll over onto your back and flop to the bed. He smirked, sitting up and rolled you again so you were on your stomach. He kneeled behind you and lifted your hips up, making you rest on your knees. Your chest and face were still touching the mattress and he rubbed his thumb over you dripping folds, then the cold metal of his rings touched the flesh and you shivered.

"W-what do those do anyway?" You asked.

"Wanna find out?" When he asked you turned to look at him and nodded. Little blue sparks flew off of them, then a hologram-like gauntlet surrounded each hand. Suddenly, warmth spread over your skin, and you yelped as ribbon like tendrils shot out from his hands and wrapped around your body. It wasn't bondage, they just wrapped around like vines, over your legs and arms, your abdomen, and breasts. They were warm and tingled and when it got done, the end landed right above your clit.

"Oh, god." You gasped; the sensation dull but incredibly sensual.

"What about this?" He asked and then the ribbons tightened, and this forced a moan out of you. His hands then grabbed the flesh of your ass, the tingling hologram on his hands leaving the same sensation as the ribbons.

"Ready?" He asked and you felt the fat head of his cock at your entrance. Your body was buzzing in so many different ways and you whined positively, and he started to ease in. The burn of his girth fucking opens your walls heightened every other pleasurable sensation in your body and he groaned at how tight you were, so wet you were literally dripping.

"Ah~ (Y/N)…" He groaned finally filling you up completely. Your head was swimming and he simply grinded as deep into you as he could, his pelvis meeting your ass. When he didn’t do anything more than that you whined pitifully, needing him to move more than that.

"Woozi…" You mewled and he groaned.

"You're so tight, baby girl." His voice had rumbled through you. You yiped when the ribbons tightened then began to move again. You couldn't see behind you, but when he groaned, you felt the ribbons wrap around his cock as well and the heat intensified, and he began to move. His thrusts were shallow but hard, and he made sure to roll as deep as he could with each thrust.

"Fuck, I'm not letting you go anytime soon, doll. Even if the storm lets up." He grunted with each thrust, then stopped. You were about to complain but he leaned over you, his hands landing by your head, and you could see better the blue light around his hands.

"You want more?"

"Pl-please…" You huffed and he pumped his hips, snapping his cock into you hard after nearly pulling out all the way. Your mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out and tears pricked your eyes at the intense feeling of him rearranging your guts. He was fucking you like an animal, nearly growling above you, drool was leaving a dark spot near your mouth on the sheets.

"W-Woo-Woozi!" Feeling your orgasm coming fast, he leaned over you more, wrapping his arms around your middle to haul you up, his chest to your back. His hands cupped your breasts and the ribbons tightened even further and he grunted two more times, spilling inside of you, this sent you over the edge. One of his hands was on your throat, just lightly holding you in place as your whole body spasmed. You orgasm faded shortly after his and your body stung, the ribbons leaving you calmed the burn, and he helped you curl up in the bed. You watched the dancing patterns of the screen saver on his wall display, dazed, barely registering him moving around. When he came back into view you slightly noticed the continuing metal crunch of the drone silo, but it was the least of your concerns.

"You know, I think the storms might last a few days…" He sat on the bed next to you, wearing a pair of boxers now.

"I hope they last the whole month," You mumbled, and this made him laugh.

"Me too, doll."

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