#coriolanus play

[smolvenger]

Dangerous Stubbornness (Caius Martius Coriolanus x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: Life as wife to Caius Martius Coriolanus has its benefits. You married him for stability, protection, and status- not to mention the delights of his bed. You expect to be no more than his dutiful wife. Yet...it seems perhaps there is something more there then all of that....

From @muddyorbsblr's request of Coriolanus with the trope "he flals first."

Word Count: 2954 (oop, she exploded from a blurb)

Warnings: There is smut, NSFW 18+ please refer to Dick-tionary (rougher sex, dirty talk I stole from Ana Huang's books, doggy style, some light dom/sub, voyeurism), a creepy sexual harasser gets what's coming to him, Caius being a grumpy angy babygirl sharko bite blorbo who actually is soft for his wife and is wrapped around her little finger, Reader uses Caius as scary dog privilege. Attempts at accuracy to Ancient Roman culture and characterization but at the end of the day it's about the wish fulfillment and the vibes. Lots of fluff. Grammar mistakes bc i just want to get. This. Shit. Done after the wild two weeks I've had.

Dick-tionary: Smut starts at "Three little words. That was all he needed." and ends at "You felt his breaths from behind you, his touch gentler against your arm." Use to your discretion.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You were never afraid of walking through the streets of Rome because your husband walking behind you would scare all who dared to harass you. You would go about the streets, your veil fluttering on your head, smiling bright in the afternoon sunshine. Caius always had a frown and glare in his eyes that dared any fool to try to cross with you. 

The marriage was purely for status- you were a good woman from a respectable family. Yes, that was probably why it was arranged between your parents! They wanted someone with a good heart and reputation, and Caius only wanted a wife to manage his house and give him children. Why should you say no? Not that you were scared of him at all- for he never once was cruel to you. Perhaps curt and blunt on occasion, proud and stubborn- but he never bullied you. With his famous wealth, you would never go hungry. He’d be away in battles and you would be alone and be free to do as you wished for months on end. If he died in battle, you figured, the more the better! You would have his money and the freedom of a widow with the respect of his name. Besides, you weren’t in love with anyone and never thought any suitors would show interest in you. 

Such was one walk, early in your betrothal. One fellow had not heard the news or knew who you were and came upon you. Trying to touch you, invite you to dinner or the bathhouses. You kept refusing, he kept insisting.

Then, the braggart leaned over and grabbed your arm.

In about ten seconds flat was Caius, unsheathing his sword, upon the braggart, pulling him by the collar. You shoved him off and ran behind him. The man trembled as if Thanatos stood thundering before him.

“I shall be quick in work and send you to your death-do you understand, villain?”

He nodded, shaking. He already seemed to learn his lesson. You edged forward to your dragon of an intended.

“Please- don’t kill him, there are too many people out watching- just scare him!” you whispered to Caius.

Caius shoved him down. The man shook where he stood and you thought you smelled urine leaking from his bladder.

“If you ever as much as speak this lady’s name-I will kill you.” he threatened quietly.

The man, having learned his lesson, mumbled a whimpering “yes, dominae” and fled.

Since your marriage, and with your new status as a general’s wife, such incidents never happened.

As you peered about one stall in the market, admiring the fresh fruits offered, you smiled bright.

“Oh, how lovely these berries look! So ripe and fresh! Wouldn’t you agree, dear husband?” you asked.

Caius remained frowning, though eyed down the berries. The man selling them looked pale and kept eying the sheathed sword on Caius’s hip.

“They’re fine,” he said. His pride kept him from commenting further on a simple farmer’s wares. But you felt his eyes over your smile seeing them.

Caius lent his coin to buy you some. The trembling farmer scooped up some berries, and popped them into a little bag, and handed it to you. You thanked the farmer and paused to admire them.

You smiled at them, as if they were jewels in your hands. Then you tried a little handful, popping them into your mouth.

“Mhm! They’re delicious! Thank you, Caius,” you replied.

You leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek. He blinked, and his shoulders loosened down from the feeling of your lips. You could have sworn a faint pink was on his cheeks as he continued behind you- not that he dared smile or keep his guard down in public.

You thought it would be another ordinary quiet night. But Caius Martius was many things. Quiet and ordinary were neither of them.

At home, you wanted to rest your feet from all the walking today. Your loom was coming along and weaving it felt relaxing. As you sat, you heard footsteps. Turning around, you saw Caius standing there.

You stood up. “Husband? Is something the matter?”

“...no…” he said.

“Oh…then, what…what brings you here?” you asked.

“I wish only to sit, I have…scrolls to read.”

“This is, er, not the usual room for a man,” you said, taking note of the loom and embroidery, the flowers from the garden.

“I am going to sit and read. In this room,”  he said determinately.

Letting out an exhale, you relented.

“Oh- your mother is always right! Your dangerous stubbornness- oh, you are welcome here, Caius, dull as it must be for you compared to a fight with a Volsce…” you teased.

He made no answer. But you sat and weaved. Watching how the lines all came together and became one for the latest project.

Little did you know that his eyes were more on you than on the flimsy scrolls. Seeing your profile and your eyes over the work then the dusty work.

Though as you ate dinner, His eyes were on you, the neckline of your dress, showing your shoulders.  Your tempa mesa was presented, eaten, and sent away as was the meal. He moved closer, to sit beside you. You felt him move an arm around you. Speaking to you in soft tones.

 As a slave came in to take an empty bowl, you felt him close, he held up a hand. Talking about some silly complaint with the tribunes Brutus and Sicinia. But it was useless- he only wanted to touch your hand, trace it, and bring it to his mouth as his lips ghosted a kiss onto your palm. You took in a sharp breath as he did.

You felt your breaths become shallow and saw his eyes flutter boldly to your chest. He sat beside you, one hand always lying on your thigh.

“What…is this….”

“I only want to enjoy all that is mine- my house, my meal, and my wife.”

With that, he propped you upon his lap as the slave brought more wine. You felt yourself get warm, feeling him on you. Such…intimacy sent your heart aflutter. Though…after plates were cleared before he could tighten his arms to hold you, you slid off. He let you, his blue eyes widening.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you announced softly.

His hand was still on your skirt. As you walked away, the fabric pulled and then slid lightly off his fingers. His hand is still in the air as if still touching you.

You sat down before the vanity. Making sure your face was washed, you removed the jewelry you had. Smiling at how lovely they were. Gifts he still found to give you even though the wedding was some time ago. Gifts he still would give you.

The slaves were still around. They kept fanned cool air with peacock feathers. Played soft music on harps and little reeds and made sure there was always water for washing and kept about.

The door opened, and your heart beat hard as he got inside. You continued your nightly routine, removing the ring and necklace as well as the belt before you. Getting ready to change- and yet…here he was. A shadow in the corner. He walked up.

“Husband! My…I’m not in trouble?” you asked, slightly teasing.

“No…”

The servants all shot a look, he gestured at them to stay. To continue their business.

His arms wrapped around you slowly. Then, he laid his head down, looking at you in the mirror.

“But…I didn’t say I wanted this evening to end…” he breathed, he began to pepper kisses down your neck. His hands running down your arms.

“I said I was going to bed…not to sleep…” you said. Enjoying the teasing and playfulness. How you could still hold this mighty, fearsome warrior like wet clay in your hands.

He whispered into your ear for only you to hear.

“I’m going to burst if I don’t have you now.”

You grinned.

“Then have me,” you replied.

Three little words. That was all he needed.

He tore off your veil to where it flew down, fluttering like feathers. He pulled you in and kissed you. You moaned into it. His hands grew bolder, feeling down your sides. You moaned in response as he slid his tongue inside. You pressed yourself next to him, feeling his desire prod against you.

Then he was on you like an animal starved. At once he began to kiss you, cupping your face, keeping a hand on your back to keep you close. You waved a hand through his short, dark blonde hair. His own were going down to feel all over your skin, though his firey kisses never stopped. The man had a craving for you in the bedroom like no other. Not that you complained about it.

You took his hand and led it to your breast to squeeze.

“Caius…yes…more…” you moaned.

“You want more…” he replied.

“Yes- give it to me…” you asked.

“All of it…”

“Yes…”

“And you will take it?”

You looked into his eyes.

“...yes. I want more. Not like on our wedding night. I want it hard. And rough. I can take it. I will take it.”

At once he threw you upon the bed. Lush with blankets and pillows, rich and comfortable. He walked towards you, eyes filled with lust, his steps slow, his head tilted, but not smiling.

“When I take you, I want you to cry out. I want all of Rome, every plebian, every senator, every person, and every animal and god to know you are mine.

He was on you, feeling a hand on your leg and kissing you. You began to grind against him. The servants blushed and looked about, he gestured to them.

“Stay,” he ordered them.

They stayed.

“I don’t want you dignified. No, wife. Show your loyalty-” he moved his hands through your dress.

“Take off your clothes.”

“If you want me naked that badly- take them off yourself,” you dared.

He obliged.

You let a sound as he roughly reached into your dress and shoved down the sleeves. You began to let a sound, a gasp as it broke open. It nearly ripped it. Shaking, you helped remove his own clothes still on him. Amazed at though his chest was filled with those dark, bloodied scars, the muscles still on them. 

He smiled.

“Such a tongue you’ve grown to have on you, delicae,” he said

The music of the slaves continued, as did their fans. Though you could feel their eyes.

 Now you were naked in his room, feeling his hands explore all over you, one squeezing your breast as the other spread around your back, wrapping you in, fingers into your skin as if to mark you.

“Then shouldn’t I be punished?” you asked coyly.

He smirked as looked at you. Then he let the last of his clothes fall. Showing his impressive thighs and impressive cock so hard it dripped against his stomach,

“It was everything in me not to take you at that table…then we’ll make up for it…”

He half threw you to the study part of the room. There sat a desk.

“Lean over that desk.”

You obliged, heart beating hard.

“Spead your legs,” he ordered.

You opened your two shaking legs, your wet sex glistening before him.

“Put your hands on the edge,” he ordered in a rasp.

Two shaking hands of yours gripped the edge. He laid your hips up. Then thrust into you at once. You let out a sound. Then roughly, he began to take you. Pounding in, his large cock straining inside you. You let out a sound.

“Yes- yes keep that- you are- you’re mine, you’re mine now- now-say it-say. it.”

“I’m” you cried between his thrusts. “I’m-I’m-your-yours-you- gods!” 

He pounded into you with a fury. His own groaning increasing. It was so filthy, so depraved, and you loved it. You had to grip the edge tightly as he pounded into you. Grunting like an animal. 

The music from the slaves continued, as did the footsteps from their business. Harps continued on as Caius took you like a whore. You could feel them still watching everything. Wondering if they were frightened, aroused, amazed, disgusted, or all four at once. 

He began to growl to you between pounding you.

“So you-” 

thrust.

 “-never-” 

thrust 

“-forget-” 

He pulled you up by your shoulder to your ear. His voice right next to it, his cock and his voice overtaking you.

“You-” 

thrust 

“-are-” 

thrust 

“-my-” 

thrust 

“-wife.”

He reached a hand, finding your opening between your legs. The bud inside you, swollen and needy and overcome.  One large finger began to strum it and you let out a whimper feeling it. His large, long fingers could already play it so easily. He let you down, and you were gripping tight to keep from losing it all. You weren’t going to last long at this rate.

“Caius! Caius please-please-Caius-”

It was already crawling up, the desk thudded loudly, perhaps breaking if it weren’t so thick and sturdy. The slaves would know he was yours and you were his. That only he and you could bring each other this.

“Yes- cum, dammit, wife- cum for me, cum- just cum, cum with me-”

“Caius-caius! I- Caius-caiuscaiuscaiuscaius-” you repeated, feeling it break. Your voice gets higher until you let out a noise, as your climax hits you.

Then with a shout from him, the seed shot forth inside you. You moaned as you panted, catching your breath. He steadily pulled out. 

You felt his breaths from behind you, his touch gentler against your arm. One wrapped around you for protection. 

“Get her something to drink now!” he barked at the servants.

They nodded their heads and ran off. Caius with one swoop got you into his arms. You felt your breath light, almost dizzy with joy- he hadn’t done that since your wedding when he brought you to this house. You could still feel his strong arms supporting you so easily. He carried you over to the bed, settling you amongst the blankets. One slave brought a cup of your drink, and you sipped at it with both hands. He made sure a blanket was draped over you for a bit of modesty.

“What kindness…I never would have guessed you would have kindness in you…” you remarked.

“I…want to be honorable…” he said quietly.

He waved a hand, and the flushed slaves left, Granting you privacy at last. You saw Caius look at you, then glance down like a shy maiden.

This wasn’t like him.

“What is it?” you asked.

“What is what?” he asked.

“You and your dangerous stubborness! Well I have some in me too. You have enjoyed me. And you wish to speak of something, I can feel it. You can tell me. Is there something you want of me? A son? I’m sure at this rate, you’ll have one…” you urged, a hand consciously at your belly.

Caius tilted his head again, his hand moving you away from yours. But touching it softly. 

“It…isn’t that. What I have…you must think it isn’t for a man to say aloud,” he said

“But you must say it! Is something wrong? Are you ill? Is your mother ill? What did Menenius try to weasel you to do? Where are they sending you now!? Caius, Why not-”

He quickly got up and cupped your face. He spoke quick, plain, and to the point.

“I love you.”

You paused your breath tight and the room spinning

“You…love me?”

“Why did I ask my mother to arrange us married?”

It struck you.

“I was…am a virtuous daughter of a respectable family-”

He looked into your eyes.

“I’ve loved you the day I met you. I wanted to have you as my wife or no one.  I couldn’t resist you if Diana herself ordered me to.”

Struck silent, you saw his face soften. The orange glow of the candlelight making him that more beautiful. 

“When…when did you know for sure…did Eros really strike the moment you saw me ”

“I…I remember it was- it was the race for the senate. All the crowd gathered to see me speak, to see the consul. I tried to ignore you there, and I could not. I was in denial all that time. But seeing you-when you looked at me, and smiled, I forgot it all. I didn’t want the seat. I wanted you. Honestly, I don’t know when it happened. But it did. And yet- all at once I-I-”

He paused.

“Maybe it was when we were betrothed. Maybe I walked with you to the markets. Or when I saw you there. Maybe it was every dull dinner and banquet I had to attend, that I still went, hoping to see you. To just see you…”

He caught himself.

“But no…I think most of all…it was each time I spoke to you. And you knew of me….and now …”

He touched your hand and you brought it to your lips, kissing it tenderly. You almost saw a tear drop despite the stillness of his face.

“I know what I am. And I thought you should hate me. Beyond whatever duty you may feel to me as your husband-”

“Caius, I don’t hate you. Not at all.”

“Then…could you-”

“I could learn to love you, and choose to love you, Caius.”

You pulled your face to his and kissed him. Then you tucked yourself into him, embracing him as you both lay on the bed. Not just as husband and wife, but as two people deeply in love.

[five-miles-over]

The One I Desire

Pairing: Coriolanus x Reader

Summary: A general must always be in control, according to General Caius Marcius Coriolanus . But there often comes a time when even the most powerful general falls to temptation. And for Coriolanus, that temptation is you.

"Tell me again why we're here…" Coriolanus grumbled while he and his closest advisor Postumus Cominius Auruncus - the commander of the Roman army - meandered through the market place, under the sweltering sun. The two of them passed by an elderly vendor selling figs and dates in jars filled with honey. Coriolanus turned up his nose and grimaced at the mere thought of how sickeningly sweet they must be.

Cominius wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Because ever since your mother decided to end your marriage to Virgilia, she has been insistent upon finding you another wife."

"Well I'm not going to find anyone here." Coriolanus scoffed, watching from the corner of his eye a group of elderly women peddling various fruits. 

Cominius handed them a handful of denarii in exchange for a good five apples and two plums. "You refuse to leave your study or the training grounds. Most of the banquets and parties disgust you," Cominius remarked. "What else was I supposed to do?"

The question fell upon deaf ears; Coriolanus was caught in an exchange with a man - possibly of Nubian descent - selling a bottle of red wine supposedly worthy of Mars, the God of War. The man was speaking utter horseshit but Coriolanus offered the man three silver denarii in exchange for it. As a bonus, Coriolanus was also given a smaller bottle of sweet wine infused with honey and berries. Coriolanus made a mental note to offer it to this mother…or to a stray dog, whichever would be more convenient. He gave the vendor a grunt and took both bottles in one hand, holding them by their necks. Just then, the sound of female laughter reached Coriolanus's ears. Determined to chastise the ladies for being so loud and brazen in public, Coriolanus sharply turned his head in the direction of the sound. 

Then, his eyes fell upon you. And in an instant as swift and sudden as the striking of Jupiter's thunderbolt, his initial resolve disappeared. Coriolanus simply stood there, gaping at you. He watched as you walked and laughed with one of your friends, holding each other's arms, and carrying baskets of vegetables, bread, and meat. The rest of the world faded away, piece by piece, and there was nothing but you…You, with your eyes full of life, the hem of your dress billowing around your feet while you moved, your hair framing your face in the most lovely way possible.

"Well I'm not going to find anyone here," Cominius mimicked his friend and snickered, taking note of Coriolanus's staring.

As if under a spell, Coriolanus put one foot in front of the other, making his way towards you. He was drawn to you, his heart racing quicker than the footsteps of a warhorse, his breath unsteady, only a single thought occupying his mind: you.

Seeing the tall man in armor approaching in your direction, you sternly held your friend close and moved out of his way to avoid trouble. "Pardon me." You had no idea what a soldier's intentions could be at any given moment, especially if he happened to be drunk with power. 

Coriolanus turned his had in one swift motion, his eyes fixated upon you, even as you hurried away with your friend. "Stop," he ordered, raising his voice. "I said STOP!"

Without thinking, Coriolanus reached forward and grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn around.For the first time, he could have a good look at all of you and witness what he believed to be true, unparalleled beauty in the flesh. He tightened his grip around the recently-bought wine bottles in his other hand until his knuckles whitened, wishing that hand were wrapped around your waist instead. With a swallow, he parted his lips. He had you now, but what was he to tell you?

"What's going on?" You demanded, looking him in the eye. "I wish to know." The general kept his silence, his pupils dilated. In most situations, hearing someone speak to him with such a fiery tone would anger him. But this time, there was a different emotion inside of him, one he never thought he would feel.

Cominius came to the rescue, standing behind Coriolanus. "I believe you've caught my friend's eye, my lady. Forgive him, he's not well-versed in the art of speaking to the fairer sex." You continued to look at Coriolanus, who averted his gaze for a moment as his limbs grew stiff.

You release yourself from Coriolanus's grip, a red welt present on the place where he roughly grabbed you. 

"My name is Postumus Cominius Auruncus, the Commander of the Army of Rome. And this is Caius Marcius Coriolanus, a general and a brave soldier."

"Good." You gingerly said.

Coriolanus looked you back in the eye. "My lady," he gritted through his teeth, "the proper thing for you to do is to tell us your name. And perhaps tells us your lineage and the homeland you hail from."

"And the proper thing for you is to stop grabbing ladies by the arm." You retorted, causing your friend to gasp.

"Forgive her, general," your friend stammered, putting herself between you and the two men. She told Coriolanus your full name, as well as your status as the daughter of a merchant and the sister of two legionnaires in the army.

His expression softened once again. "Tell me your name again."

You relented, uttering your name before leading your friend away and picking up your baskets. Before Coriolanus could have a chance to call out to you one more time or bid you farewell, you'd already disappeared among the crowds of ordinary citizens.

Cominius chuckled, giving Coriolanus a strong nudge. "You're welcome."

Coriolanus shot him a glare, biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't be caught smiling like an idiot. "That was unnecessary. She's just some common woman." A common woman too saucy for her own good.

That night, as the general lay in his bed alone, sleep evaded him like a coward fleeing the battlefield. He rested on his back, arms on either side of his tall, muscular frame, his chest rising and falling with each bath. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind flooded with images of you. Images of you from earlier that day, bathed in sunlight, giggling freely like a nymph while your dress clung perfectly to your form. Coriolanus mentally cursed you, simply out of frustration for robbing his sleep and rendering him unable to think of anything else but you. 

As the hours passed, his mind wove those images into a dream. A dream in which you were simply walking through a street, smiling to yourself as you took in your surroundings. Every once in a while, you would briefly turn to Coriolanus, looking at him with a smirk, before returning to your seemingly mundane stroll. All Coriolanus could do was admire your willingness to look him in the eye without flinching, and this disturbed him. Even in his sleep, his jaws clenched and his muscles tensed with every smirk of yours. He wanted more than to simply gawk at you like a fool looking at a statue.

"What's going on?" Your voice echoed in Caius's mind. "…The proper thing for you to do is to stop grabbing ladies by the arm."

Coriolanus advanced towards you. He desired to be closer to you. He desired to feel more than simply your arm, which fit perfectly in his hand. He desired to hear you speak to him, to be delighted by the sound of your voice, to be the one you laughed and smiled in the presence of. 

And after what felt like several painstaking moments of being a helpless voyeur, Coriolanus witnessed his dream take a different turn.

Coriolanus found himself in his bedroom, wearing a white tunic with a red border, and nothing else. "Caius?" You called to him before appearing in the doorway, wearing an emerald green stola and gold jewels. Your hair was left undone as if you were preparing for sleep or for a bath. Your expression bore no smirk, but rather a simple smile that invited him closer. Closing the door, you lit a candle near his bedside, your eyes meeting his. 

At that moment, Coriolanus could not hold himself back any longer. Now was the opportunity to take you for himself, quench the restlessness that had been brewing inside of him for far too long. Coriolanus took a few strides towards you, his pace increasing with each one. And with every step he took towards you, you took two steps backwards until he was almost chasing you in his chamber. Finally, he managed to corner you against a wall, the two of you staring at each other with anticipation.

Coriolanus closed the distance between you and clasped your wrist, letting his other hand wrap itself your waist. He instinctively leaned into you, his lips a hair's breadth from yours, whispering, "You temptress…evil woman. You have no idea how much I crave you…how terribly I want you all to myself. What is this spell you've cast upon me?" Coriolanus lightly pushed you against the wall and pressed his forehead against yours. "I must have you now." He tugged at the fabric of your dress and leaned in again to kiss you, but you turned away from him.

"No, Caius," you pleaded in a breathy tone. "Not like this."

This is utter rubbish. You were his to have, this was nothing but a dream, what was stopping him from taking you right here and right now, ending this agitation once and for all? Coriolanus tried to touch you again, but you simply disappeared.

Taken aback, Coriolanus backed away from you, his brow furrowed. "How?" He demanded, glaring.

"Seduce me."

Coriolanus immediately woke up with a start, his brow beaded with sweat, his heart racing, and his pelvic muscles tightened. "Gods be damned," he muttered, cursing your name as he tasted it for the first time. 

[mrs-starkgaryen]

Favourite Shakespeare's Tragedies

After my other poll, I am going to be specific.

There shall be a battle of the favourites!!

For the love of Shakespeare, please reblog for a better analysis

[sereinnu]

"What if we're both red flags then?"

[yelenadelova]

TBOSAS has me thinking about how Finnick was likely one of the only people alive who knew even some of the story of what happened in the 10th Hunger Games and after. It’s apparent that Snow or the Capitol in general buried any record of the 10th games and Lucy Gray to save face.

However, who knew all of Snow’s darkest secrets and dirty laundry? Finnick. It’s reasonable to assume he probably learned at least part of the story. Not only that but Mags won the 11th games, directly after Lucy Gray’s Games. It is canon that there wasn’t much coverage of the games in the districts but I’m sure even if she didn’t watch them there were likely rumors about it during the next game. And when Snow reappeared as the president she likely remembered his role. And as Finnick’s mentor and mother figure she probably told him a lot.

There’s no real point to this information but I just think it’s very interesting that despite how hard Snow worked to bury his past it probably still lived on. And despite his efforts to control, oppress, and abuse the victors, it was one of these victors who knew his dark past. It was one of the people he tried to control that eventually gained an upper hand over him and helped play a big role in his downfall.

[jjadmanii]

snow saying “it’s the thing we love the most that destroy us” like katniss didnt just take the song that holds his fondest memories with the one girl he loved and turned it into the soundtrack of his downfall 😭😭 gurl

[oh-look-at-her]

"Use that on me."

Pairing: billy the kid x reader

Warnings: profanity, PinV, unprotected sex (don't be stupid, just babyproof it), dom! And sub! Dynamics, gun play, creampie, degradation, mocking, name calling(i think), small oral fixation if you squint, reader is female

tell me if i missed anything!

Description: despite Billy being a cowboy, he's a sweetheart, especially to you. He treats you like you're a porcelain doll and always makes you feel worshipped. You follow him on his unconventional journeys and tonight, you're staying in an abandoned shack in the woods and your mind wanders to unexplored waters.

A/N: Alright, it's finally here! I'm sorry, it took a bit longer to write than I thought it would when I posted the teaser of this story. I originally planned this to go a bit different, but I'm overall pretty happy with how it turned out even if it did take its own course of action a bit. The ending is a bit rocky, I know, I'm also sorry for that. Regardless of all that, I hope you guys like it! I'd love to hear your opinions or points I can improve on! Lastly I want to say; bear with me, English is not my first language, but I think I checked about everything. I appreciate feedback and if I have anything wrong, please don't hesitate to tell me!

"Use that one me." there it was. It spilled out. You had been thinking it for the last week and now it just slipped out. You were sitting up from the floor which you had covered with blankets in an attempt to make it more comfortable. You had been staring at Billy's gun holster for a while. He had been innocently going on about the road ahead. The journey that would start the day after.

"What?" he hadn't noticed how you kept eyeing his gun. He hadn't noticed how your eyes had glazed over with lust, just thinking about what he could do to you if he tried. He most certainly hadn't noticed how it made you restless. Your body tingled and your skin was on fire.

"I want you to be mean to me. I want you to fuck me like you mean it...and I want you to use your gun on me." A rush of adrenaline had taken over your mind. Or maybe it was just arousal? Who knows? You most certainly don't care.

Billy looks concerned. "W-what? Why?" He mumbles.

You look at him reassuringly. "Oh baby, you know you're always so sweet to me and I love that. But... I don't know, I just..." you don't know what else to say, but it looks like he's understood what you meant.

Billy looks at you for another moment, a bit dumbfounded, before getting up from the floor and walking towards the chair over which his gun holster was hanging. He slowly wraps his fingers around the base of his gun and takes it out of the holster. He looks at it intently before looking back at you.

"You want me...to use this one you?" You nod. "Why?"

You ponder that for a moment, thinking back to all the times he's held that gun up to people's heads. The look in his eyes...was mesmerizing. The lowering of his brows, the tilting of his head, the tug of a smirk on his lips.... So, you tell him exactly that.

He chuckles for a moment at your confession, looking down at the weapon in his hands. It’s a low chuckle, one you had never heard come from his lips before, sultry and enchanting. Your mind runs crazy at the sound. He kneels down in front of you, as you're still sitting on the floor and he looks at you for a moment, analyzing your features.

"You sure about this, Darlin'?" He asks in that same goddamned tone of voice. You nod eagerly at his question, your thighs discreetly rubbing together for any type of friction you could get.

He notices the small movement but doesn't say anything as he gets closer to you, until he's right on top of you and you're face to face with him. He looks into your eyes lovingly for a moment before putting his attention towards the gun still in his right hand.

Slowly, he traces your collarbone with the tip of his gun, testing the waters. When you breathe out a sigh of content, his eyes meet yours again and he knows that what he's doing is exactly what you want.

He slowly traces the gun from your shoulder to your collarbone again. From your collarbone to your neck and from your neck to your jaw. All the while, keeping eye contact with you and noticing how you're reacting to it.

You close your eyes, humming as a small content smile graces your lips. Billy watches every movement you make with the utmost interest. It spurs him on as he brings the barrel of the gun to your lips. You open your mouth obediently, something he hadn’t expected but he didn’t awfully mind. He pushes the gun to lie on top of your tongue. You twirl your tongue around it and Billy can’t help but think about what that pretty tongue of yours would feel like on his cock.

He feels the room getting hot and his pants tightening at these thoughts. But, fuck, are you pretty with your mouth open for him. His innocent girl with a gun in her mouth all because she begged for it. He never could’ve imagined this happening, the poor boy. Not in his wildest dreams. He was surprised, maybe even a bit repulsed at first, but seeing you like this for him is something he can most definitely get on board with.

You go on to suckle gently on the gun and it drives Billy absolutely insane. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty like this.” He murmurs to you and you smile. He pulls the gun from your mouth and admires the sheen of spit on it. “Absolutely disgusting.” He whispers to himself and your thighs clench together once more at his words because it is disgusting. You are filthy for wanting him to do this to you.

You just don’t care. You want him to do these things and you couldn’t care less about whether it’s bad or not. If anything, it spurs you on. It’s humiliating, but so, so good.

“Take that off, baby.” He gestures to your nightgown. You quickly obey, surprised by his sudden demanding tone of voice. The usual sweet Billy is no longer there and right now, you very much do not mind. You slip the nightgown off your shoulders, exposing your chest and Billy’s eyes catch on the sight before drifting further down as you push the nightgown off of you. You’re bare before him now and his eyes continue to wander. He’d never done that before. He said he always wanted to be respectful and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

He was right, it did make you uncomfortable, but not in the way he had probably imagined. You grow shy under his gaze, but secretly, you love the way he’s looking at you. Hungry, like a predator admiring its prey and playing with it. But that’s not what makes you uncomfortable, no, the growing heat between your legs is what is making you uncomfortable and Billy had barely even touched you.

God, what would it be like when he finally does touch you? Your cheeks flush pink at the thought. Billy notices, of course he does. “What is it, honey? Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ flustered already. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and I can’t even look at her for a bit without ‘er gettin’ shy?” He’s teasing you, mocking almost. You furrow your eyebrows in frustration at his words and he chuckles. He moves to lie down next to you.

“Come here.” He demands, patting his thigh. You obey quickly, scrambling to move on top of him and straddle his lap. You’re naked on top of him and he’s fully dressed. When you’re travelling, he always stays fully dressed at night, just in case someone sees you both. He lets you wear a nightgown as you please, though. Right now, this proves to be a big contrast and it’s setting your mind on fire. You paw at his clothes and a smirk graces his lips at the desperation on your face. He likes it.

He holds up the gun that was still in his hand, tracing it from your belly to your chest. He smoothes it over your hardened nipple, making you shiver at the feel of the cold metal against your unusually warm skin.

“Might I remind you that I am the one with the gun in their hand right now, darlin’?” he props his left hand to rest behind his head as he continues to move the gun over your smooth skin. Your collarbone, your belly, your neck, anywhere he could reach. The suspense builds up and you can feel your stomach doing backflips as you close your eyes, soothing into the metal touch. But then…. click.

One short ‘click’ sound makes your eyes shoot open. He loaded the gun. Your eyes dart towards his face, a daring smirk on his lips, knowing exactly that that sound would’ve startled you. A shiver runs down your spine at the realization that the gun is actually dangerous right now. He could accidentally pull the trigger and hurt you….you like it.

“What is it, baby? You scared? I won’t hurt you, darlin’. Not unless you ask me to.” Those last words drive you insane and he can see you can’t take it anymore. You paw at his clothes once more, but he gives in this time. He gently lies the gun down next to him and sits up with you still on his lap. You stare at his hands as they slowly but surely unbutton his shirt, finally revealing some delicious skin to you. Once he’s unbuttoned the shirt, it takes everything in you to not start biting and sucking at his skin as he takes it off.

Billy sees the look in your eyes resembling hunger and he smiles to himself. He looks at you for a moment, letting you admire him, before saying; “If you want me to take these pants off, you’re gon’ have to get off of me, baby.” He chuckles as you eagerly climb off of him and he finally takes off his pants, leaving you staring at his obvious hard-on through his underwear.

“Yeah, you want that off too, baby?” he asks in a degrading tone of voice, mocking your desperation as if he hadn’t purposely been building up the tension inside you.

You nod frantically, a small whine escaping your lips at the thought and the degrading tone of his voice. Bily’s surprised at the sheer desperation of you. I mean, just look at you! Sitting there on your knees on the ground right next to him, breathing heavily and a slight sheen of sweat already covering your body, your nipples hardened and eyes low to solely focus on him. It’s driving him insane.

He quickly takes off his underwear at your confirmation, finally lying naked before you. You drink the picture up like you’re a traveler in the desert that hasn’t seen water in days. You climb onto him, your eyes locking with his before pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss is full of desperation and desire as you swirl your tongue over his bottom lip and lick into his mouth as if you’re delirious at the taste of him (which you must admit, is not entirely inaccurate). He deepens the kiss by pulling you in by the neck, his hand having snaked behind you to firmly grasp you and move you as he pleases.

When you come up to catch your breath, he looks at you mischievously. He wants you so bad… but he wants to play with you for a bit. After all, you did ask him to use his gun on you.

He suddenly flips you both around so he’s on top now, grasping his gun in the process so you don’t land on it. It is still loaded, after all. You look up at him adoringly and it melts his heart for a moment. You try to pull him in for another kiss, but he stops you and lets his gun sit on your lips again.

“Just hold on, honey. Didn’t you tell me you want me to use my gun on you?” you nod, eager to find out what your darling boyfriend has planned for you. He smiles at your obedience and then focuses on the gun still resting on your lips. He slowly drags it down again. Down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, your nipple, your belly button… He’s nestled between your legs now, the tip of the gun resting right underneath your belly button.

His gaze flashes to your pussy, your clit already red and swollen, begging to be touched and your pretty hole already so wet with anticipation. “Look at that, baby. You’re so pretty and wet for me, aren’t ya?” he dips his head down slowly and unexpectedly licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, moaning at your taste and making you mewl at the sudden pleasure.

He looks up at you, admiring the pretty look on your face at his sudden action. “hey baby?” you answer with a breathy ‘yeah’. “can I try somethin’?”  you pause for a moment, curious as to what this ‘something’ is, but you quickly say yes at his proposal. He smiles and sits up, slowly dragging the gun with him.

The gun traces down… slowly down to where your pretty clit is aching for Billy to just touch. When the cold metal touches your clit, you squeal softly in surprise, the sensation foreign to you. Bily quickly asks if you’re okay, but the only answer you give him is a low and breathy moan accompanied by a smile.

He traces the gun lower… all the way to your pretty hole. The barrel of the gun catches on it and teases your entrance slowly, warming you up to the feel of it. Soft moans and whines erupt from your mouth and Bily can’t get enough of the sight before him. You, your legs spread out for him, his gun between them, your pretty face while you make those delicious sounds for him. It spurs him on to do what he does next.

He stops teasing your entrance with the gun for a second, but before you can protest or whine about it, he slowly pushes the tip of his gun inside you. Yes, he did it ever so slowly, but he’s having you mewl and moan for him so easily. He slowly keeps pushing the gun inside you (while still making sure you’re okay the entire time) until it’s in as far as it can get. At this point, you’re a puddle for him, all lust and desire for him and your brain has turned to mush.

The gun is soaking with your juices at this point and you feel so good all filled up by it. Billy slowly starts moving the gun out of you until only the tip is left inside you. A guttural moan rips from your throat when he pushes it inside you fully again. He starts fucking you with it, setting a slow but deep pace that has you squirming for more. His dick is growing impossibly hard at the sight before him and he can’t take it anymore. He slowly pulls the gun out of you now, carefully depositing it off to the side.

He slowly drags his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness before stroking his cock with it, spreading your arousal over it. The sight of him pumping his cock in his hand right in front of you has you delirious.

“Baby…” you mewl, reaching for him. “What is it, honey?” he asks gently, “What do you want?”

“Please fuck me.” You say directly and he smiles at that, leaning down to met your gaze. “Yeah?” he asks, slowly dragging his cock through your folds, teasing you and making your moan softly. Your hips buck up into him and he laughs at you. He laughs at you, how mean. You enjoy it, though. You like it when you feel degraded by him.

“Yes, please honey, please…” you beg and he smiles before finally pushing inside you. He stretches you out slowly. Your mouth hangs open and your eyes roll back, a guttural moan escapes you when he bottoms out. He pauses for a moment to let you adjust, but god, is he stretching you out good.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. My pretty pussy is so wet for me.” he slowly starts moving in and out of you, making you mewl.

” And all because I fucked you with my gun?” His thrusts speed up and you scratch his back as you moan with every one. He grabs your thighs and proceeds to wrap your legs around his waist, making his cock hit a spot impossibly deep inside you.

“You’re filthy, you know that?” he sets a brutal pace, his thrusts hitting that spongy spot inside you so well every time. You cry out and he admires the expression on your face, brows furrowed, jaw slack, eyes rolled back, a hot blush spreading across your cheeks, a sheen of sweat coating your skin.

“Gettin’ off on me threatening you with my goddamned gun" he curses and he can feel you tightening around him at his words, having caught on to the fact that you like it when he says these things to you.

You’re going insane at this rate and you can feel the coil in your stomach tightening already. “I didn’t expect my sweet girl to like those things.” he states, obviously out of breath. "Turn around, baby." He demands before pulling out of you. You whine at the sudden emptiness, but you do as he says, propping yourself up on your knees and resting your head down on the makeshift pillow below you.

He kneels behind you, admiring the way your back is arched and the way your pussy is soaked for him before teasing your entrance with the tip of his dick again. You're about to complain about him not fucking you yet when he suddenly pushes inside you and bottoms out in one thrust.

Your face is pushed down into the pillow and your eyes roll to the back of your skull as he keeps fucking you, setting the same brutal pace as before. He bottomed out every single time, sending waves of pleasure to your core and you can feel your orgasm starting to build quickly.

You try to tell him that you're close, but all that leaves your mouth is moans and rambles. Your brain is foggy with pleasure, but he gets what you're trying to say. "What is it, darlin'? You close? What do you need?" He asks in a mocking tone of voice. You just answer with a whine.

He chuckles at your reaction before reaching in front of you to slowly rub at your clit. You mewl and squirm at the sensation, feeling the coil winding impossibly tighter. Billy's thrusts grow sloppy and you can tell he's about to cum as well.

He sets a fast, calculated pace at rubbing your clit. "Fuck, baby, you're squeezing me like a vice." You whine at his words. "I'm gonna cum inside you." he curses at the thought. "Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up so good, honey."

He's thrusting into you at an ungodly pace and his skilled fingers rubbing your clit is just too much. You cry out as your orgasm washes over you. Your cunt clamps down on Billy's dick, coating him with your cum.

he moans and fucks you through your orgasm. "Shit, baby, I'm gonna come." The movement of his hips stutter as he comes, filling you up just like he said he would, slowly pushing his cum deep inside you with every thrust.

You whine. You're overstimulated and you can't take any more. you claw at his back and he slowly pulls out. "Hey honey, you okay?" he asks gently, cupping your cheek with his hand. you nod and sigh, too tired to keep your eyes open.

Billy lies down next to you, holding you close to him. your sweaty bodies tangle as you both calm down and you both lie there for a while.

"Well." Billy starts after a bit. "That was... unexpected." You chuckle at his words and murmur a small 'yeah' in return.

"Why haven't we done that before?" He asks incredulously. You outright laugh at his question.

"Did you like it then?"

"Absolutely."

Tags: @harvey-malfoy

[felixravinstills]

i think the tragedy of coriolanus snow is he figures out that the capitol doesn't care about him and could discard him at any moment, and instead of deciding that he needs to destroy that system, he decides that he needs to control it. he needs to work within it and have it do his bidding while he's at the top.

this thought brought to you by how i often think about arachne's family being uncomfortable at her funeral (i've already talked about this, but i'm doing it again). they're making her procession out to be an honor, but to the capitol, her death is as much a spectacle as brandy's corpse. it's being used to sell a point. like obviously, arachne lives a much more privileged life than brandy and all of the other tributes, but the capitol is taking this moment to dehumanize her too: dehumanization through glorification juxtaposed with dehumanization through degradation. (i also think about the ring's funeral but the reader spends more time at arachne's)

anyway, i have been watching a show... can you guess which one?

[gladiatorcunt]

coriolanus snow in a possible fic where he kills reader but loses his mind and has dr. gaul bring them back… like death not even being enough to escape him but also just him being like “nuh uh 👆” at your literal dead body:

ALSO, modern!coryo: (he just wants to be close 😍🥰😽)

[thief-of-eggs]

As much as I do adore Tom Blyth as Coriolanus, I’ll still never forgive them picking someone so goddamn tall to play the roll.

I will always mourn the loss of short and skinny Coriolanus. Especially in comparison to Sejanus, who isn’t just stronger than him- he’s meant to be clearly well fed and taken care of. Sejanus’s growth wasn’t stunted, and god damn I wish he was taller than Coryo in the movie.

[mags-writes]

me, 14 and reading the end of mockingjay:

me, 24 and reading the end of the ballad of songbirds and snakes:

[five-miles-over]

[deuteragonist1]

Sejanus: We should have dinner together. But not as friends.

Coriolanus, narrowing his eyes: As enemies?

[aq2003]

i feel like. a big shakespeare Thing is him looking at like. the discrepancy of presenting yourself to others in one way but disguising your real feelings (often negative or non-presentable) about the matter. like hamlet being frustrated w the superficial nature of how everyone else mourns his father (like how it's only a social gesture to them and not anything they actually feel) (+ how this is contrasted w/ hamlet's "antic disposition"). the macbeths acting like friends to the king but hiding their dark intent to kill him (+ how duncan's sons end up fleeing exactly bc they are among people who were close to their father and have no way of knowing who is hiding their intentions towards them). beatrice having that whole line about "but manhood is melted into curtsies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too" (ie men who initially seem sweet and upstanding would rather lie and keep their social standing amongst other men than do the right thing). or richard ii lamenting about how he doesn't truly have anyone bc they all pledged themselves to him simply bc he was king and not anything else (and now that he's lost the crown he has nothing). so what i am saying is that coriolanus makes total sense to me as a character/play shakespeare would write bc coriolanus is a guy who like, outright rejects this and refuses to disguise who and what he is bc that knowledge of himself is all that he can really truly count on (but this ultimately isn't a good thing for either himself or the people around him)

[azamansource]

ASSAD ZAMAN in the RSC production of CORIOLANUS (2017), dir. Angus Jackson

- He waged me with his countenance as if I had been mercenary. - So he did, my lord. The army marvelled at it,

[withasideofshakespeare]

Woah no way?? People (completely unprompted /s) want to hear my trans Shakespeare headcanons?? You bet I can do that.

I’ve done this once before:

But I have even more thoughts now!!

In no particular order:

Puck (A Midsummer Night’s Dream): Every single pronoun possible. He/she/they/it + all of the neopronouns and xenopronouns that exist currently or will ever exist. Fairy gender is always weird but Puck’s is extra weird.

Oberon (A Midsummer Night’s Dream): Fairy gender. Probably he/they/it?

Titania (A Midsummer Night’s Dream): More fairy gender. She/they/it?

Titania’s fairy attendants (Midsummer): Get a hat and fill it with various pronouns and draw them out at random for the fairies.

Benedick (Much Ado About Nothing): Could go either way, but I really like the idea of transfemme Benedick. Or he/him lesbian Benedick.

Beatrice (Much Ado About Nothing): The she/they to end all she/theys

Viola/Cesario (Twelfth Night): Could be trans in literally any direction. I made a post about this too at some point. My suggestion is all of the directions: they/she/he

Sebastian (Twelfth Night): He/him, transmasc. I also made a post about this at some point.

Feste (Twelfth Night): I saw a great she/her Feste last summer.

Orsino (Twelfth Night): Specifically the himbo variety of he/they

Margaret of Anjou (Henry VI trilogy and Richard III): If I ever play Margaret, I will use she/they pronouns.

Catesby (Richard III): Just played Catesby with she/her pronouns and it worked!

Richard II (Richard II): Tell me Richard isn���t the most they/he or he/they guy alive (or… dead).

Hal (1 Henry IV-Henry V): Saw Hal played with she/they pronouns last summer and it was great. Could also see he/they Hal. Very nonbinary vibe overall. I personally believe that going by Hal rather than Henry for two whole plays is their way of pulling the “going by the first letter of what my name used to be instead of picking a name from scratch” nonbinary trick. He probably pretends to be cis after his dad dies and he becomes king—one more element of Hal’s lifelong identity crisis.

Hotspur/Harry Percy Jr. (Richard II & 1 Henry IV): He/they in denial.

Kate Percy (1 & 2 Henry IV): She/they, not in denial. (Also Katespur should be bi4bi)

Ned Poins (1 & 2 Henry IV): Transmasc Ned Poins?? Maybe he doesn’t actually have a sister and Nell is just his deadname. Ned Poins’ failed scheme to flirt with Hal.

Romeo (Romeo & Juliet): he/they (t4t R&J!!!)

Juliet (Romeo & Juliet): she/they (t4t R&J!!!)

Mercutio (Romeo & Juliet): they/he(/it?). Vibes alone. Look at them. Just look.

Nurse (Romeo & Juliet): she/her, transfemme!

Cassius (Julius Caesar): Would love to see a they/them Cassius

Hamlet (Hamlet): he/they. I’ve made multiple posts about this theory and I still love it.

Ophelia (Hamlet): she/they. As she should.

Laertes (Hamlet): she/him and NOT just because Laertes used she/her pronouns the first time I saw this play.

Rosencrantz (Hamlet): he/they/she. Vibes. Sometimes goes by Ros/Rose. Probably genderfluid.

Malcolm (Macbeth): they/he or they/them. Also vibes.

Lady Macbeth (Macbeth): stolen straight from my last post because this is still my HC: she/they; would insult you for “having pronouns in your bio” and then turn around and punch you in the face for using their pronouns incorrectly.

Angus (Macbeth): she/her, transfemme. (t4t Ross/Angus. I will die on this hill… Dunsinane Hill.)

Ross (Macbeth): he/him, transmasc

Caithness (Macbeth): she/they lesbian

Mark Antony (Julius Caesar and Antony & Cleopatra): I would not bat an eye at he/they Mark Antony

Edmund (King Lear): they/he, nonbinary, sexiest man (/gn) alive.

Edgar (King Lear): he/him. Transmasc Edgar is slowly becoming canon To Me.

Cordelia (King Lear): she/her, transfemme.

Goneril (King Lear): she/they. I would let them kill me.

Coriolanus (Coriolanus): transmasc OR transfemme Coriolanus is!!!! The butterfly/metamorphosis motif! Name changes during canon! Discomfort with scars/body! Lack of autonomy granted by society! This is THE transgender play. (Other than Twelfth Night)

Imogen (Cymbeline): Tell me she doesn’t want to be a she/they so bad.

Florizel (The Winter’s Tale): he/they(/she?). Literally just a vibe. I have a pet rock named Florizel.

Perdita (The Winter’s Tale): she/they. I also have a pet rock named Perdita.

Ariel (The Tempest): Similar to Puck, probably they/she/he? Even my conservative English prof consistently rotates between she/her and he/him for Ariel (possibly not intentionally? I’m not convinced he knows what her canon pronouns are.)

Ferdinand (The Tempest): she/they. PLEASE give me transfemme Ferdinand. PLEASE let Miranda realize she’s a lesbian during canon.

Miranda (The Tempest): she/they. Ariel taught them about the existence of she/they pronouns and she immediately started using them.

So in other words… every Shakespeare character should be trans, actually.