Please Think I’m Pretty Please Think I’m Pretty

please stay

cho hyun ju x f!reader

:this post made by @jxynotfound

warnings: angst/comfort, use of y/n

word count: 1.1k

hyun ju’s apartment feels too big now that the others have left. 

the air hangs heavy with unsaid words and the tension that coils tighter every time you and hyun ju are in the same room. you look over at her, sitting at the edge of the couch, her gaze fixed on a glass of water she hasn’t touched. 

she’s avoiding you again…like she has been for weeks. 

your heart twists. you can’t ignore it anymore.  

she thinks she’s subtle, but you notice everything about hyun ju. the way her eyes flick to you for just a second too long when she thinks you aren’t looking. the way her laugh is quieter when you’re around, like she’s holding something back. 

you’d give anything to know what’s going on in her mind, to understand why she’s been keeping her distance. 

it hurts more than you want to admit.  

no matter how much attention you get from everyone else…the stolen glances, the lingering stares, the compliments whispered under breaths…it’s hers you crave. 

lately, it feels like you’re invisible to her.  

you don’t understand it. you’ve always been told you’re beautiful, practically since you were old enough to understand the word. your friends joke that you look like you stepped out of a magazine, your outfits always effortlessly chic, your makeup flawless. 

even when you’re dressed casually, there’s something about you that draws people in. boys, girls…everyone seems to want you.  

none of it matters if hyun ju doesn’t.  

you stayed behind tonight for her. you stayed because the ache in your chest is too much to bear, because you can’t take the way she looks right through you anymore.  

you sit down beside her on the couch, your movements soft, deliberate. 

“hyun ju,” you say, your voice quiet but steady. 

“is everything okay?”

she startles slightly, like she hadn’t expected you to stay. her grip on the glass tightens, and she doesn’t look at you. 

“yeah,” she says after a beat, her tone unconvincing. 

“why?” 

you tilt your head, your eyes fixed on her. you’ve never been one to back down from the truth, and you won’t start now. 

“because you’ve been avoiding me,” you say bluntly. 

hyun’s eyes widen, but she quickly looks away, her expression guarded. 

“i haven’t,” she says, but the words sound hollow. 

“you have,” you counter, your tone firm but not harsh. 

“and i don’t get it. did i do something wrong? did i upset you?” 

the older woman’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, she doesn’t respond. then, she sets the glass down with a quiet clink and leans back, exhaling slowly. 

“it’s not you,” she murmurs, her voice so quiet you almost miss it. 

“then what is it?” you press, leaning closer. the scent of her shampoo reaches you.. soft, familiar, floral, comforting..and it only makes your heart ache more. 

“hyun ju, please. please talk to me.” 

she finally looks at you, and the vulnerability in her eyes catches you off guard. 

“it’s complicated,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. 

you can’t hold back anymore. weeks of frustration and longing spill out all at once. 

“why can’t you want me like the other boys and girls do?” your voice cracks, your hands twisting together in your lap. 

“they stare at me while i stare at you.”  

hyun ju’s head snaps toward you, her wide eyes locking with yours. the shock on her face is unmistakable, but beneath it, there’s something else…

“y/n,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“what are you saying?”  

“i’m saying i want you,” you admit, your voice trembling with the weight of the confession. 

“i dress up for you, hyun ju. every outfit, every little detail…it’s all for you to notice. i don’t care about the stares or the compliments from anyone else. i just want you to notice me, to look at me the way i look at you.” 

hyun ju’s lips part, but no words come out. she looks at you like you’ve just told her the most unbelievable thing in the world. 

“do you know how much it hurts?” you continue, your voice breaking. 

“everyone else wants me, but i don’t care. i don’t care about any of them. i only care about you, hyun ju.” 

hyun’s hands tremble in her lap, and for a moment, she looks like she might cry. 

“sweetheart,” she whispers. 

“i didn’t think... i didn’t think you’d ever feel that way about me.” 

your heart aches at the way she says it, like it’s impossible for her to believe. 

“why wouldn’t i?” you ask, your voice soft but insistent. 

“you’re beautiful, hyunnie. you’re kind, strong, and smart, and you make me feel things no one else ever has. i’ve been trying so hard to get your attention, and you keep pushing me away.” 

you continued, "I asked myself, why can't hyun want me like all of the other boys and girls do? they all stare at me while at stare at you.."

hyun shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. “i wasn’t trying to push you away,” she says, her voice breaking. 

“i just... i didn’t think i was enough for you. you’re—” she gestures helplessly at you, her words faltering. 

“you’re beautiful, y/n. you’re perfect.. and me... i just didn’t think i could ever measure up to your level of beauty. i thought you’d never see me that way.” 

you reach for her hand, your fingers brushing against hers. 

“you’re everything to me, hyun ju,” you say, your voice steady despite the tears in your eyes. 

you reach down in front of the couch, taking your hands with hyun ju’s on her lap as tears come from her eyes now too. 

“don’t you see that? i don’t want anyone else. i want you.” 

hyun’s breath hitches, and then she’s pulling you into her arms, holding you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. 

“i’ve wanted you this whole time, since we were introduced,” she admits, her voice muffled against your shoulder. 

“but i was scared. scared that if i let myself hope, i’d ruin everything.” 

you pull back just enough to look at her, your hands cupping her face. “you’re not ruining anything,” you say, your voice firm. 

“you make me happy, hyun ju. you make me feel seen in a way no one else ever has. don’t you see how much you mean to me?” 

tears spill over from the both of you, but she’s smiling now, a soft, radiant smile that takes your breath away. 

“i see it now,” she whispers. 

“and i’m so sorry for making you feel like i didn’t care. i care, y/n. i care so much.” 

you lean your head against her shoulder, the warmth of her presence soothing the ache that had been building in your chest. 

“i wish you knew how beautiful you really are, hyunnie,” you murmur. 

she holds you tighter, her heart feeling warm for the first time in so long. 

I hope you really enjoyed <3

tags for the people under the post who commented under the post wanting this fic:

@countrygalbitch , @ryuhour, @etta-huracan, @luckylilypadsss

i always love finnick being a whole ass in love because it just so cute😭

finnick odair + being enamoured with his s/o

requested here. finnick odair x reader (implied fem!r)

finnick odair who’s so sickeningly in love with you and worships the ground you walk on !! it shocks you at first, because he’s the capitol’s golden boy, he’s a victor, and before you met him you were so sure he had everything anyone could ever want. but he treats you like you’re the only thing he could ever want or need. he tells you you’re the one thing his heart has been waiting on for years and years. his soul is yoked to yours forever, he says. the world could fall away and he’d cling to you.

finnick claims he was meant to love you, in a sleepy haze one quiet evening, after a long day of morning markets and swimming at the beach and tending to the garden. his hair’s still damp at the roots, but curling at the tips, golden and sunkissed. he’s got you on his bare chest, one arm curled around your waist. he smells lovely, this intoxicating mixture of sea salt and soap and his natural heady musk.

his forearm drags up your back and down again, “I love you,” he says, a murmur so soft you barely hear it. he’s tired, seconds from being pulled into sleep, and yet. “I think I was made to love you.”

you blink, glad he can’t see the look on your face. he’s always surprising you and saying such heavily romantic things as if he doesn’t know how hard they puncture your heart. you should be used to it by now. you’re not.

“finnick,” you say. you’re lost for words for a few moments. you think he’s fallen asleep when you finally say, “I love you, too,” but he hums, this lovely, low sound that vibrates his chest where you’re smushed against it, and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

you both fall asleep in a lovesick tangle, and then in the morning he follows you around like a puppy, brushing your hair away for you when you wash your face, helping you pick out clothes, plucking your apple from your hands before you can take a bite so he can cut it up for you first. (he knows you like apple slices better than whole ones. you’ve never had to tell him, but he figured it out).

he likes watching you while you get ready, too. he likes how your fingers look while you braid your hair (he offers to do it most mornings, but today his tongue is too tied up in knots with how lovely you are), how your skin looks after you’ve moisturised. how, when you pull away your silk pyjama top to change, your shoulders and neck are littered with faint red love marks from his mouth.

you’ll ask him if he’s okay, probably because he looks a bit faint. he’ll nod. “yeah, I’m okay. just love you.”

you never doubted it.

Mistake.

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 3.2k words

SMUT 18+ ONLY | murder, manipulation, dubcon, mutually assured destruction, some bondage, gun violence. everything, really. danger!

The floor of Coriolanus and [Y/N]’s bedroom used to be hardwood. She would hear him on his way in when he worked late at the Citadel. The creaking floorboards typically snapped her out of sleep. Recently, Coriolanus decided on carpeting the room, full well knowing that he often woke up [Y/N] with his returns. If she stayed asleep, she asked less questions. The carpet was rich and purple. Tastefully purple, like a mauve. Coriolanus did not tolerate tacky like most ‘Capitol Phonies’ as [Y/N] called them when he would get agitated with couture, fashion and consumer trends.

When Coriolanus entered the room tonight, he was not concerned with waking his lover like usual. He was furious and he wanted attention. Coriolanus threw the door open with a bang. He came in like a shot. [Y/N] sat bolt up right in bed at the unexpected noise so late at night. She went from asleep to over alert. With practiced ease, she yanked open the bedside table’s white drawer and reached for the handgun Coriolanus had gotten her as an anniversary present. The wife of a young Senator couldn’t afford to take risks.

[Y/N] extended her arm, pointing the gun where her tired eyes spotted movement and undid the safety. She blinked once. Then twice. It was clear that it was Coriolanus, not a murderer. Not a murderer that would do her harm, anyway.

“Fuck!” Coriolanus said, raising his hands in surprise. “Darling, it’s me. Drop it!”

She would have known his footsteps if he hadn’t put in carpet.

“Coryo, good god. Don’t do that!” [Y/N] screamed. Instantly, she snapped the safety back on and dropped the gun back in the drawer. “I could have shot you! What time is it?”

“I—I don’t know! Late!” Coriolanus shouted and shrugged his jacket off. “Fuck!” [Y/N] watched his burgundy coat smack into the wall as he tossed it in frustration. Coriolanus didn’t usually get visibly angry. Instead, he got cold. There was door slamming sometimes to end an argument, maybe dirty possessive sex, but normally, he became calculating vile to be around instead of petulantly rage-filled.

Today must have been a bad day.

He almost got shot to top it off.

“I’m sorry,” [Y/N] said like she was attempting to defuse a bomb. She had only had to speak to him like that once or twice in her years of knowing him. Normally, Coriolanus found that tone condescending. “Coryo, come here.”

Coriolanus made no mind of her words. He continued to pull off his clothes a layer at a time clumsily. He pulled at his hair, he groaned sounds of anguish barely below a holler, he even threw one of his beautifully polished shoes across the room. Real, adult male rage. The kind you stayed away from.

“Coriolanus Snow, you’re going to hurt yourself!” [Y/N] shouted. “You’re gonna… hurt me, or break something. What’s wrong with you?” [Y/N] said cautiously while she climbed out of bed in her nearly transparent red nightie.

Coriolanus breathed heavily. He was trying to sooth his anger. He knew this behavior, this blackout rage, was unbecoming. His eyes focused on [Y/N]’s, and then [Y/N]’s throat, then [Y/N]’s dress, and what was visible under [Y/N]’s dress. His breathing slowed a bit and he pushed his loose curls out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You still with me?” [Y/N] asked, stepping into where he stood. “Coryo, look at me,” [Y/N] commanded. She reached out with a hand as if Coriolanus was a wild animal that might bite her and slowly placed it on the side of his cheek. Gently, she guided him to look down at her. He stared down at her almost expressionlessly. [Y/N] reached up with her free hand to tucked Coriolanus’s long hair out of his face. “What happened? The truth, preferably.”

“Where… Where’d you get that nightgown?” Coriolanus deflected.

“Bought it last week.”

“It’s very striking on you. You aren’t cold in that thing?”

[Y/N] shook her head and dropped her hand from Coriolanus’ face. She thought her window for some sort of talk about why he had behaved like that had latched closed. “No.” She sighed. [Y/N] spent another moment examining Coriolanus with her eyes to make sure that he wasn’t hurt or completely falling to pieces standing before her in merely his crisp black pinstriped trousers and belt. Once she felt her once over was sufficient, she turned to walk back to the bed to lay down.

“I… I lied to someone when I should have told them the truth,” Coriolanus started as [Y/N] climbed back under the pristine white covers on their bed. “It was a miscalculation and I suspect it’s going to take… work to… eradicate the rest of problem entirely.”

He was incapable of saying ‘I made a mistake and my actions have consequences’ like a normal person. All the same, relinquishing that information cost him a lot emotionally. He didn’t share burdens. Coriolanus didn’t share anything.

“This was another Senator?”

“It involves another Senator, yes,” he said. “It’s inconvenient.”

“Fix it,” she said. There was no more advice to be offered on the subject without argument and she knew that Coriolanus would fix it, by whatever means necessary. [Y/N] patted the bed beside her again. “Come to bed.”

Coriolanus climbed into bed stiffly and laid beside [Y/N]. He settled for laying in an uncomfortable, temporary position because he did not expect to fall asleep in his pressed slacks. She wrapped an arm around him and yanked him on top of her, forcing his head to rest on her chest. Coriolanus liked it when [Y/N] let him use her like a pillow. [Y/N]’s heart went so fast when he was near like that. Coriolanus wondered if it was because she was afraid of him. He smiled.

“Did you get this nightgown for me?” Coriolanus asked. He traced the sheer fabric around one of [Y/N] nipples and watched the bud become stiffer with every rotation. He did that to her, not some no-talent, inexperienced Senator who probably couldn’t keep his own dick hard.

[Y/N] scoffed with her bottom lip captured between her straight teeth. “Who else?” She said plainly.

“You got all dressed up in this and I didn’t even get home on time, huh?” He said, sounding almost disappointed. Coriolanus’ finger slid under the strap of the dress and snapped it against her skin.

“There’s always tomorrow. It’s not like I don’t live with you,” [Y/N] chanced sliding her fingers into his hair. Coriolanus often hated when she touched his overly manicured hair, but [Y/N] knew he found it soothing in a moment of private vulnerability. She knew he liked the attention. [Y/N] tangled her fingers in his white blonde hair, combing out the product he had put in it that morning to hold it in place. Coriolanus let her. “You’re so tense. Relax.” [Y/N] said.

“Can’t. Go back to sleep, Darling. I might go for a run, think.”

“…You could discuss your miscalculation.”

Coriolanus was silent. That was a no without saying no. [Y/N] tugged his hair carefully in frustration. “Please stay here with me. If you go out, I’ll be all nerves til you’re properly back with me,” She said. “Stay. I’m awake now… Blow off some steam. The adrenaline of pointing a gun at my husband’s going to keep me awake for a while too.”

“I never should have bought you that,” Coriolanus said firmly, but maintained a smirk. “If I stayed with you all day, you would have no reason for needing the gun. You wouldn’t ever have to wear clothes either. Well, what you’re wearing now is hardly clothes to begin with.”

“I’m sorry. About the gun, not the nightgown,” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus stole kisses across parts of her exposed and covered chest. Eventually his mouth came to rest over her clothed left nipple, with his teeth giving it a gentle tug. “Coryo…” [Y/N] whimpered.

“You want me to relax, here’s me,” Coriolanus leaned up and kissed [Y/N]’s lips. “Relaxing.” He smirked.

[Y/N] genuinely never did know if Coriolanus was out-of-his-mind obsessed with her, or if he told her what she wanted to hear because that kind of talk made Coriolanus feel better about himself in a roundabout way. Either way, she got something out of it, so complaining at this stage felt unimportant.

Sustaining two deluded minds in a relationship meant both parties had to consistently 1) lie, 2) obsess over minutia, 3) fuck.

See, it wasn’t love, but it wasn’t just fucking either. The pair could not love. Something had happened to each of them that made real romantic or intimate compatibility impossible. Their intentions for the other weren’t selfless, but they mutually let other believe they were.

They were perfect together.

They had unified strength, a need for control and that beloved little thing that made them work: obsession; fundamentally. To hear one of them talk manically about the other, was to see the face of God. To each of them, the other was the only person who had ever kept them from getting bored, so they made it work. It was the endless chase that kept them going. That, and a constant need to outdo the other. Daily, they engaged in a delicate pantomime of intimacy and all their world was the stage.

“Did you hurt someone, honey?” [Y/N] moaned as Coriolanus kissed her, bucking her hips up. “You only act like this when you’ve hurt someone. Y-you, oh fuck, you know I don’t care.” She said.

“Cut it out.” He snapped.

“Who.”

“How many times before have I told you not to ask?” Coriolanus said, pulling his lips away from her chest and instead leaned back to bury two fingers inside her wetness to affirm his point. He had already noticed she hadn’t been wearing panties under the translucent nightie, so it was easy.

[Y/N] inhaled sharply at the abrupt stretching sensation and shut her eyes. “I wasn’t asking, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus stretched her further, eliciting an explicit moan from [Y/N]. She clawed at the fabric of the only stitches he had left: his trousers.

Through gritted teeth, Coriolanus choked out “Festus Creed.”

“Festus?” [Y/N] said as she sat up on her elbows. They had known him since they were children. Coriolanus didn’t stop fucking her brutally with his hand. “Coryo… You didn’t.”

“He said something he shouldn’t have and he took his coffee too sweet to notice before it was too late. The only worry is if someone saw. Eyes everywhere. It was too public.” Coriolanus grunted. He felt himself getting hard from watching his wife fuck herself on his long fingers whilst he confessed to killing a childhood companion.

[Y/N] knew it was in poor taste to feel so good from hearing something so awful. She did not care because who was going to judge her in the privacy of her own home? She let out her most wanton moan yet when Coriolanus pressed in a third finger. He knew had an advantage in the conversation considering their current position. Coriolanus knew exactly what she wanted and that he was not going to get her to cum just from the penetration of his fingers. Effortlessly, he slid his thumb over her clit and rubbed it quickly. “W-why…” [Y/N] tried her best to sound coherent.

“He wanted something that wasn’t his.” Coriolanus muttered, leaning his mouth into [Y/N]’s bare neck.

This could have meant Festus had coveted her, or that he had coveted the presidency. Whatever it was, Coriolanus didn’t like his foods to touch and took care of the problem. [Y/N] let herself believe that out of the possible options, it was her that had gotten in the way of the two men’s relationship. It made her grin an unfortunate grin.

“Coriolanus, you sh-shouldn’t have d-done that,” [Y/N] said. Her thighs were practically shaking. “That was a mistake.” She tried. It was a mistake. Logically, she knew that. [Y/N]’s quivering hands unbuckled his belt. Carefully, she slid the fine black leather through the metal fixings and soft fabric loops. It stayed clutched in her hand.

“What was a mistake?” Coriolanus asked coyly. “This?” His hand slid out of her, making [Y/N] yelp at its absence.

At least [Y/N] was able to think clearer without his hand in her folds. [Y/N] clutched the belt in her hands tighter. “Fuck you.” [Y/N] said. She sat up further causing Coriolanus to lean back further. Her temper flared. She hated how much Coriolanus liked it when she got angry. Of course none of her feelings were really her own with out Coriolanus’ desire and interests. Her temper escalated until she could feel a full throbbing in her left armpit and side. [Y/N] also hated how aroused she still felt. Her friend was dead, after all. She sent a silent prayer to Festus, wherever he ended up.

[Y/N] knew this desire she had was going to be a challenge, but she wanted to punish Coriolanus carnally. Everything was too easy for him as it was.

When Coriolanus sat up against the fluffy pillows and the metal headboard, [Y/N] wasted no time climbing into his lap. She stared seriously into his blue eyes for a moment and leaned into his ear. “I’m extremely disappointed in you.” She said.

Nervousness coursed through her veins. Coriolanus was going to be very upset with her. She grasped Coriolanus’ left wrist in the same hand that held his belt. In one fluid motion, [Y/N] grabbed Coriolanus’ other wrist and clutched them over his head. She pressed his wrists together and linked them with the belt. Before she locked the belt on itself, she pushed his beautiful pale hands against the metallic headboard she was so familiar with chained to herself and cinched the belt closed fast enough to rash up Coriolanus’ delicate wrists.

Coriolanus looked at her in stunned shock. He tried to pull against the belt once.

Twice.

Three times.

It jerked the metal bedframe with a crack.

“What the fuck is this?” Coriolanus said through gritted teeth.

“Punishment. You… I… I said I was extremely disappointed in you. You created a significant amount of unnecessary stress because… Because what? A man I’ve known since I was twelve wanted to share your toys? Is that it?”

The crease between Coriolanus’ eyebrows deepened and his eyes. [Y/N] popped the button on Coriolanus’ pants.

“Now, I’m gonna get some pleasure out of you if it kills me. For my sake, not yours.” [Y/N] said. She shimmied Coriolanus’ pants and boxers down to his knees. Coriolanus wasn’t making this movement easy for her with his wriggling.

“[Y/N], get me out of this. Now!” Coriolanus commanded. At the noise, she grabbed his cock and circled her thumb around its head a few times. He was a leaking mess; he liked this more than he implied. Coriolanus let out a whimper, whether from pleasure or being emasculated. Either would do.

“No.” [Y/N] said softly. She released his cock and climbed properly back onto his lap and slowly sank all the way down on his painfully hard cock. Coriolanus was tall and broad so it was never a surprise to [Y/N] that he was so big. She herself moaned at the familiar stretch of taking him in all the way. [Y/N] rolled her hips to compensate as she settled. [Y/N] chose not think about the consequences for what she was doing. She thought about Coriolanus instead. She glanced down at Coriolanus. Of course he looked frustratingly gorgeous. He always did. His hair looked extremely tousled and his eyes were truculent. His jaw clenched in a grimace of some passionate emotion.

[Y/N] had never seen Coriolanus below her like this. She liked it.

Coriolanus thrusted his hips up, but [Y/N] sat still, not dignifying his need with a response. “No, this is an apology. This is for me now, not you.”

“[Y/N], please—“

Begging so soon?

[Y/N] fucked herself on his cock sharply. Repeatedly, she lifted herself high and slammed herself back down his length. She had no idea sex felt so good in this position.

“Coryo, I want an apology for whatever this is. You should be ashamed of what you’ve done. Are you?”

Silence. He looked away from her.

“I asked you a question.” [Y/N] whispered when she leaned in to bite Coriolanus’ earlobe.

“No.” He said. [Y/N] leaned back and struck him with her open palm. She smiled to herself as she did so, thinking of the night of their engagement party. How striking his pale face always looked with the contrast of a stiff red mark on it.

“[Y/N]!” Coriolanus shouted at the stinging sensation, pulling at his restraints. Coriolanus hated not feeling in control. He wanted to hold [Y/N], to squeeze her, to devour her alive.

[Y/N] leaned to clutch his bound forearms, bouncing up and down sickeningly fast. “You’re not ashamed? Guilty? You think this is deserved, this cruelty?” He didn’t have to answer for [Y/N] to know he didn’t feel ashamed. Coriolanus couldn’t feel shame quite like that, only self pity. He let out another moan at her words. [Y/N] clawed her nails down his biceps on a journey to his abdomen. “Coryo, apologize to me.” She purred.

“I…” Coriolanus started to apologize, but [Y/N] began sucking brutal hickeys on his neck first, then collarbones. He could barely string a sentence together at the sensation. By the time he had four blossoming bruises on the marble column of his throat, he was writhing beneath [Y/N]. He was getting frustrated. Every time he tried to buck his hips naturally (or desperately) into hers, she refused to move or acknowledge until he stopped.

“Fine! I’m sorry!” He spat, barely conscious of his words.

“For what?”

“F-Festus.” He said quietly.

“What was that, honey?” She teased, twisting one of his nipples.

“Please don’t make me talk about another man when I’m fucking you…” Coriolanus whimpered. “Undo the belt, Darling, we can—“

“Too late. What are you sorry for?” She said, rolling her hips into his. “Tell me you’re sorry or there’s no chance I let you finish.”

“Festus!”

“Louder!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry about Festus. It was a mistake. PLEASE! Let me fucking cum!”

He wasn’t sorry at all. While he came into his wife, all Coriolanus could think about was how awfully good it felt to kill someone if it meant his wife would be on him like this.

—

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow

sorry if tags didn’t work! i tried!

but you haven’t seen my man

New Photos of Tom Blyth 👀

Credits to Eric Ray Davidson

This has me screaming silently at 1 a.m. 😭😭😭 amazing work tbh

I SENT THE ASK ABT TEACHER CORYO IM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE TA/PROFESSOR SNOW 😝

OKOKOK IM GONNA WRITE SOME HEADCANONS BUT I MIGHT HONESTLY EXPAND THIS INTO A FULL FIC BC im a whore!

warning(s): nsfw, obsessive behavior, lowkey an abuse of power

coriolanus, almost out of university, was selected to teach a higher level math class on the account of dr. gaul saying he needed a little bit more experience with teaching and leadership if he was to be head gamemaker. so, he was a TA, teaching under a professor but was basically given full rein with the class, as the professor seemed to focus more on research than teaching the class. the second he was in the lecture discussion, he saw you walk in. you were a junior, just a year under him in university and god were you beautiful. almost mouth wateringly so. it made him sick in the head at how pretty you were.

and gods above, you were smart, almost as smart as he was (though he wouldn't ever admit that) and it was clear that you liked him. you always smiled when he complimented your high scores on tests and quizzes, and would read the notes that he put in the margins of your essays with a glimmer in your eyes. he needed to talk to you, needed to be closer to you, and the only way that he could think of was to give you slightly lower marks on your essays and homeworks. never on a test, he would never want to drop your grade low enough for it to be concerning, but he did wait for you to stumble into his office hours. and you did. you asked him how you could do better on the material, and he told you that he'd help you.

he didn't have an office, only a classroom that he was lent during his office hours in the top floor of the math building. it was there that you would meet him, every tuesday and thursday, to go over problems. he liked the way that your lip would be bitten in between your teeth when you were looking at a particularly hard problem, or when you would look at him with your big doe eyes when you asked him for help. and whenever you asked him for help, he would lean closer, and explain it to you.

one day, he finally got the courage to make a move. you asked him for help and he placed his hand on your thigh, as if he was using it to keep himself steady as he leaned over. but instead of watching him explain on the paper, you kept your attention on his face. and then he pushed his hand further up your thigh, under your skirt, and you didn't stop him. your hand came to his and you pushed it up until it was cupping your pussy. he fingered you right then and there, hoping beyond hoping that no one else would walk into his office hours for help. the two of you made out while he fingered you, going as far as to press three fingers into you, with a squelching sound, your moans echoing through the room softly.

that became somewhat of a normal thing. you two always met during his office hours, until you decided to go to his home one day for some extra tutoring. it ended with you in his large bed with your legs spread, while he put his fingers in your mouth as he fucked you with such fervor that you were sure you were going to break.

sometimes when he was grading papers, you would slink under his desk and pull his cock out, spitting on the tip and bobbing your head up and down until he gave you the attention you wanted. he always fantasized about you doing this when he was teaching another class, with you working him with your mouth as he sat on his desk and no one else knew the wiser. he would have to try that with you one day.

lots of words like how dirty you were for sleeping with your teacher. "you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" "show me how good you've gotten" when you were riding him. "you probably fantasize about my cock in class, don't you?" it was all so derogatory. and other times he would praise you. he would tell you how smart and beautiful you were. he would let you cum when you got a problem right while he sat under the desk, eating you out. when you got a problem wrong, he would stop, and no amount of begging would get him to continue unless you continued your work.

I could request sooo many thing but right now i NEED

Rough dom Gyeong-seok pls

You knew you were pushing Gyeong-seok's buttons, acting like the brat you were. You smirked as you saw his jaw clench, his patience wearing thin. "Enough," Gyeong-seok growled, his voice low and dangerous as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you close. "You think you can keep acting like this without consequences?"

You bit your lip, trying to hide your excitement, but the thrill of his dominance was too much. "Maybe I want those consequences," you taunted, your eyes gleaming with mischief. With a swift movement, Gyeong-seok pushed you against the wall, his body pressing hard against yours, his breath hot on your neck. "You're going to regret that," he whispered, his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass roughly.

He spun you around, pinning your hands above your head with one of his. His other hand roamed freely, slipping under your shirt, teasing your skin. "You're mine to punish," he hissed, his fingers pinching your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. Gyeong-seok's hand then traveled to your pants, unbuttoning them with a deftness that showed how little he cared for your protests or your bratty facade. He yanked them down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

"Look at you, so desperate for it," he taunted, his fingers finding your wetness without hesitation. He didn't wait for a response; he knew your body better than you did at this moment. His fingers plunged inside you, making you cry out as the pleasure mixed with a sharp sting of dominance.

"You like being my little slut, don't you?" he growled, his pace relentless, not giving you a moment to adjust. His other hand came down on your ass with a sharp spank, the sound echoing in the room. "Yes, fuck, yes!" you moaned, unable to keep up your bratty act under his control. His touch was too commanding, too intoxicating.

"On your knees," he commanded, pulling his fingers away, leaving you empty and wanting. As you complied, he unzipped his pants, freeing himself. "Show me how much you want it," he ordered, his gaze dark with lust. You took him in your mouth, eager to please, to prove yourself, even if just for a moment. But he wasn't about to let you lead. Gripping your hair, he set the pace, using you for his pleasure, making it clear who was in charge.

After what felt like an eternity of submission and pleasure, Gyeong-seok pulled you up, bending you over whatever was closest. With no further preamble, he entered you from behind, his thrusts hard and fast. Each movement was a reminder of your place under his control, your bratty behavior now just a distant memory as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation.

As you felt yourself nearing the edge, his voice came, harsh and unforgiving, "Don't you dare come until I say so." But it was too late; the wave crashed over you, your body betraying your obedience. Gyeong-seok didn't stop, didn't slow down, punishing you with pleasure until he too found his release, marking you as his in the most primal way.

Breathing heavily, he pulled you back against his chest, his voice a mix of satisfaction and warning, "Next time, remember who you belong to."

*giggling, kicking my feet* dom!gf!hyun-ju have my heart fr

Hiii I was wondering if we could get a dom!cho hyun-ju x f! Reader where weve bee feeling kind of insecure so she helps prove that theres nothing to be insecure about? Do u think u could add some praise, hand holding n whatever else u would like to add? Pls n thank u!!

! nsfw content !

dom gf!hyun-ju x f!reader

(these are happening in a way that the squid game does not exist)

word count | 1,5k

warning | smut, oral(reader receiving), yeah that's all

"aren't you ready yet?" the voice coming from outside the door made you swallow hard, you looked at yourself in the mirror again. you had made an agreement with your girlfriend to go out but you didn't want to go out now. you wanted to wear the dress hyun-ju bought for you on today's date but something seemed missing, you weren't feeling well, even looking in the mirror started to hurt so you turned your head away "I..I'll be ready in a minute."

hyun-ju looked at the clock and let out a breath when she realized that your reservation time was almost past. of course she would always wait for you but it had taken longer than necessary. after a while you heard another knock on the door "is everything okay..? if you need anything please tell me, should I come in?" her worried tone made you feel bad too, you didn't want to ruin anything on a day like this. hyun-ju was about to leave when she didn't hear anything from you but the sound of the door opening made her stop.

she looked at you, then her gaze roamed over your body, you looked so... perfect. she smiled slightly as she realized that you were embarrassed by her gaze and locked eyes with yours again. hyun-ju took a step closer and held your hands. "you're so beautiful, but why is your face so sulky, hm? tell me, darling." one of her hands went to your chin and made you look at her. you could barely put your thoughts into words but finally managed to speak. "I..I don't feel very good in this dress..don't get me wrong- you bought it for me and it's absolutely beautiful but..I think I diminished it's beauty by wearing it."

a sigh filled the air, hyun-ju entered the room and then closed the door and placed both hands on your cheek, her thumbs drawing small circles as you began to relax under her touch. "I don't want you to say things like that. please. I know it's hard to change your mind no matter what I say and I hate it but..I wish you could see how you look through my eyes." her hands went down to your waist and with small steps she led you to where the mirror was, now with your back turned to her you were looking at yourself in the mirror again. hyun-ju tilted her head slightly to the side and placed a small kiss on your neck "every part of you is so beautiful, so precious." another kiss, her voice was lower this time "I am so lucky to have you, such a delicate beauty that would make angels jealous..it's completely unfair for you to feel so insecure when everyone around you is talking about your beauty, my little baby."

you turned your head to her, every word she said caused your eyes to fill with tears, hyun-ju's face filled with worry as she felt a pain in her heart the moment she realized this "who talked about me?" she knew you were upset right now but when she heard your soft voice and saw the way your bottom lip pouted, she couldn't help but giggle at your sweetness, and kissed your lips, wiping your bottom lip with her thumb as the lipstick you had just applied smeared with her "last week when we met the others, you got up to go to the bathroom and as soon as you left, se-mi made a comment about how your skirt looked good on you. well..I can't say she was wrong of course but I have to admit I was jealous. you attract attention everywhere we go and it makes me happier to have you."

you tried to process what she said, hyun-ju gave you a moment to give yourself time but her gaze fell on the strap of your dress that had fallen off your shoulder. you flinched slightly when you felt her fingers on your shoulder while you were lost in thought, raised your head to her but she wasn't looking at you, her eyes traveled from your shoulder to your neck "y/n.." you answered while the way she said your name made your body shiver "yes?" the moment hyun-ju heard your weak voice, it was all over for her, neither the restaurant nor anything else on her mind. she lowered the strap of your dress again and kissed your shoulder. whispered "we're late enough for the reservation..."

she made you lie down on the bed and was soon on top of you. "I'm sorry..I didn't mean for it to happen-" your sentence was cut off when hyun-ju's hand slid under your dress and caressed your thigh. "shh..there's nothing to apologize for." looked into your eyes with desire. "let me prove how beautiful my girlfriend is, with or without a dress." she delicately removed the single piece of fabric you were wearing, she was eager to touch you but she liked to savor this moment more slowly. soon you were left with only your panties, her fingers finding your clit through the fabric as she kissed your lips hungrily, sucking on your bottom lip and you let out a whimper when your tongues met.

her kisses slowly moved down, first to your neck, then to your breasts, lingering for a while before coming to your stomach. you giggled slightly as the tiny kisses tickled you. hyun-ju smiled when she heard your laugh and lifted her head. "that's it. I always want to see you laugh." continued, the wet kisses she left in between were making your mind blurry. you admired how she could take away all your worries, even a single kiss could make you forget all the bad things.

as she went down further, she kissed your clit through the fabric, hand stopped you as you were about to close your legs, she raised her head and looked at you "I want you to keep your legs open, okay little one?" you just nodded in approval, you didn't want to wait any longer and she knew it very well. took off your panties without waiting too long and got between your legs, her hand found your hand and intertwined your fingers "hyun-ju.." you said her name needily. without making you wait any longer, her tongue met your pussy, she sucked your clit for a while, and then she went down a little further, stuck her tongue in your hole. you squeezed the hand you held with a loud moan, hyun-ju continued to destroy you with her tongue while she started caressing your hand with her thumb.

her movements were slow and seductive but when you didn't expect it, she sped up, she grabbed your leg with her free hand and spread it wider, making it easier for her to eat you out. all you could do at that moment was moan her name. even though she had done this often, holding hands made you feel strangely embarrassed. hyun-ju always made gestures like this during sex and she always managed to embarrass you. in fact, at that moment you realized how unimportant the thoughts of the people around you were, when you had a girlfriend like this and were loved like this, you didn't want to care about others anymore. there was only her and you.

hyun-ju's movements didn't stop, her tongue was moving rapidly inside your pussy while her hand holding your leg slowly moved from your belly to your breasts, when she started playing with your hardened nipple with gentle movements, you let out another loud moan, she knew very well which parts of your body were sensitive. after a while the pleasure you were getting from both sides started to be too much, you moved your hips and your stomach tightened, you knew you were close to cumming "hyun-ju..I..I'm..c-close.." you could barely speak between your moans, just threw your head back in pleasure. hyun-ju moaned as your hips moved around her face and after a while you couldn't hold yourself back any longer and came in her mouth.

she pulled back, looking at the juices flowing from your pussy before looking at you who was exhausted. she grinned slightly, oh she loved eating you out so much, she could do this all day long but she had other things to worry about right now. her lips were glistening from your juices, licked her own lips and leaned in closer, kissing your cheek. “I love you so much.” buried her head in your neck. “please don’t hesitate to talk to me at times like this, I don’t like you being by yourself, I’m always here. always.” her arms wrapped tightly around your waist and she laid down on the bed, pulling you to her. “we’re late for dinner..” you purred, she chuckled and pulled back slightly to look at your face. “I got more than what i wanted, but I can still make you something if you’re hungry?” saw you avert your eyes shyly and kissed your forehead with a smile. “you rest here, I’ll go and make sure you get fed well.” she put the covers over you and looked at you one last time before leaving the room. when the door closed, there were no bad thoughts or anything else on your mind anymore.

i’m just so obsessed with professor!coryo and tumblr writers really do feed my obsession well

"Office Hours" - Professor!Coriolanus Snow x Reader

a/n: from an anon request 🩷

Summary: Professor Snow makes you work for his approval.

Word Count: 2,000

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: DUBCON DUE TO POWER IMBALANCE, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, daddy kink, dom!coryo, semi public sex ig?, dry humping, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, coryo's a bitch here ngl

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

When you arrive at the capitol’s prestigious institute for higher education, the eponymous University, you are determined to do everything within your power to reach your full potential. Ever since you were a girl, you’ve been an overachiever, everyone you met being certain you were meant for great things. Some of your teachers even joked that someday, you could be the first female president of Panem, with your killer intellect and undeniable charisma. You graduated top of your class at the Academy, receiving a glowing recommendation from Dean Vickers, the successor to Dean Highbottom. You charmed everyone you met, won every argument, and were an all around model student.

Going onto the University was the next natural step. And all is well and good, at least at first. That’s until you take his class on the history of the Hunger Games.

Professor Coriolanus Snow.

You almost mistook him for another student the first time you saw him. Tall, lean, blond hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to stare right through you. His lips are pressed into a thin line as he looks you over, almost appraisingly. You can feel your stomach tied in knots, your knees shaky as you walk over and introduce yourself to your professor, ever the teacher’s pet. Hell, you’ve even brought an apple with you, your hair tied back in a ponytail, your uniform perfectly pressed.

Professor Snow takes the apple from you, arching a brow at the sight of it, before taking a bite. And if you were any weaker, you might’ve let out a moan. It’s so sensual, the way his lips wrap around it, that it makes that ache between your thighs even more present, the one you’ve had since the moment you saw him. Noticing your flustered state, Professor Snow suggests you take a seat, a little smirk on his face. You immediately do as he asks, sitting front and center, your legs crossed, pen poised to take notes. He has an absolutely enrapturing lecture style, enthralling you with every word on the history of the Games. You wonder to yourself if he has considered entering politics, with how he’s able to command the attention of an entire room of twenty-somethings.

You’re shocked when he cold calls on you, asking why the Games were created.

“To punish the districts and remind us of the threat they pose,” you say confidently.

A sardonic little smile twists on his lips as he replies, “Naive and incorrect.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever been told an answer you’ve given when called on was incorrect. And it makes you angrier than you have reason to be. Tears prick at your eyes as you continue scribbling away in your notes. What a fucking asshole. And yet, you’re filled with a desire to prove yourself. That you’re not some naive little girl. That you’re an intelligent and mature young woman who can and will succeed. One who will graduate at the top of her class yet again.

It’s easier said than done, impressing Coriolanus Snow. And he knows how desperate you are. How your eyes light up at the slightest hint of approval from him. And so, he does more research on you, digging into your backstory. You’re from one of the Capitol’s richest families. Richer than even the Plinths. And you’ve been given everything you’ve ever wanted on a silver platter. That is, except for affection. In all the pictures he sees of you with your family, your mother and father seem proud of you but so very cold. He doesn’t think there’s a single photo of them hugging you or smiling at you.

And so, the pieces fall into place. An overachieving little rich girl, desperate for the affection she never received. Desperate for a firm yet gentle hand to guide her into becoming all it is that she can be. He’s going to be that for you. He’s going to mold you into the perfect young lady. And one day, when he’s achieved all that he wants and has become the President of Panem, you are going to be standing at his side as his First Lady, his sweet and adoring wife. Brilliant and beautiful. The two of you will make a lethal combination, he knows it.

He just needs to get you there.

So, he continues challenging you in class, making you work for his approval. The way you gaze up at him with those sweet eyes almost makes him feel guilty, but then he remembers. All of this is for your good in the end. When you come to his office hours, he listens to you calmly, the dulcet tone of your voice making his cock twitch in his pants as he imagines how pretty you’ll look beneath him, moaning so sweetly. But he holds himself back, challenging every opinion of yours, making you build your arguments in a way you were never challenged to do before. And don’t think he doesn’t notice the way you always make sure your hair is perfectly set when you come to his office, that your makeup is done to perfection and that you unbutton your uniform shirt to show the tiniest hint of cleavage.

You want him. Just as badly as he wants you. That’ll make it all the more easy when the time does come to actually claim you.

Coriolanus knows that you’d look so pretty sitting between his thighs under his desk, his cock nestled between those full pouty lips of yours, tears in your eyes as he fucks your mouth, mascara running down your cheeks as you sit there and take it just because you want to please him so fucking badly. And you’ll be so fucking wet just from sucking him off, just from hearing him moan your name.

“Professor? Professor?”

He blinks rapidly, wrenching himself from his reverie, meeting your gaze as he nods, “Yes, you can do your paper on the Careers. That’s a fine choice.”

You give him a bright smile, preening at this tiny bit of praise, grabbing your bag and bidding him a good day as you walk out of his office, his gaze drawn to the way your ass sways in that little skirt, the tiny bit of your thighs that are being pinched by your knee high socks.

Only a few more days now.

When you come to Professor Snow’s office hours to discuss the grade you got on your paper, you feel a bit foolish. You’ve hiked up your skirt ever so slightly, left a few more buttons of your shirt undone, just enough to show the lacy white bra you have on underneath it, matching panties to go with it of course. Why are you doing this? Why do you want him to desire you so badly? Why are you so desperate for his approval?

An explanation escapes you as you enter his office, taking a seat on the other side of his desk, a demure little smile on your face. He looks handsome as ever, wearing that white dress shirt with the black vest on top, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, your eyes drawn to the prominent veins that run along them. Your mouth goes dry and you cross your legs, the tiny bit of friction assuaging your desire for the time being. Professor Snow eyes you up and down, a smile playing on the corner of his lips as he hands you your paper.

“Well done. This is by far the best paper that I’ve ever graded.”

You beam at him, your fingers brushing against his as you grab the paper, sending an electric shock through you, your breath catching in your throat. And then, he moves to intertwine his fingers with your own, his gaze heavy with lust as he stares at you. You swallow thickly, the essay falling from your hand onto his desk. You watch as he beckons you over to his side, urging you to take a seat on his lap. Your stomach stirs with anticipation as you do what he asks, walking on shaky legs toward him, allowing him to grab you by the thighs to straddle his lap.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me this semester,” he murmurs, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Taking all my criticism. Learning from me. I’m proud of you, baby.”

The pet name and praise make you whimper softly, your hips grinding against him, his cock hard in his pants, pressing against the fabric of your underwear. Professor Snow chuckles at your desperation, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, cooing.

“Aw, my little girl likes it when I praise her, doesn’t she?” 

You nod shyly, averting your gaze, “Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

You meet his eyes, biting your lip as you whisper, “Yes, Professor.”

A dark smile crosses his lips as he moves to grope at the flesh of your ass, kneading it between his palms, groaning as you continue grinding yourself against him. He watches the subtle bounce of your tits, the way they strain against your shirt, moving to undo another button of your shirt with his teeth, burying his face between your breasts, nipping at your soft flesh. You whine pathetically, giving him an almost injured look when he pushes you off of him for a moment, though your expression turns almost gleeful when he undoes his pants, pulling his cock out from his pants, and pulls you back to him.

“You’re so wet for me already,” Professor Snow murmurs, “Are you ready for me, little one?”

You nod eagerly, allowing him to lift your hips, guiding you down onto his cock, a throaty groan escaping his lips as he sheathes himself inside you. You’re not a virgin, but fuck, he’s the biggest you’ve ever been with. He fills you so fucking perfectly, the fat head of his cock rubbing against spots inside of you that you didn’t even realize existed. And he hasn’t even moved yet. Your lower lip trembles, eyes watering from the intensity of the moment, mewling his name as he begins to rut up against you.

“So fucking tight,” Professor Snow grunts as he holds your hips in place, using you as if you’re his little toy, eyes transfixed by your breasts bouncing in his face, “Fuck, you feel so good around me. Going to keep you with me forever, you know that? My sweet girl. You want that, don’t you? You want Daddy to take care of you?”

Daddy. The word makes your eyes go wide but you immediately nod, burying your face in his neck as his cock slams into you over and over, making you cry out his name, your thighs trembling as you get closer and closer to your peak. His breath is hot against your ear as he lands a heavy handed smack against your ass, demanding that you answer him, the sting feeling oddly pleasurable to the point that you think you want him to do it again.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whimper, “Need you to take care of me, please.”

“You’re mine now,” he rasps, increasing his speed, hips slapping against yours over and over, “All. Fucking. Mine.”

Before you can ask him if he’s going to pull out, before you can even think, you reach your peak, your orgasm hitting you harder than it ever has before, stars shooting behind your eyes as he fucks you through it, cumming deep inside you only moments later with a low growl of your name.

After a few moments, you slowly move off of him, allowing him to take the lead and fix your shirt and skirt, though he gives you a cheeky wink and grabs your panties, placing them in the drawer of his desk.

“For when I can’t have you.”

You smile at him bashfully, kissing him back when his lips meet yours, not quite realizing that the trajectory of your life has now been changed forever.

this is just *chef kiss*

I love your writing sm and was wondering if you could right a Finnick x reader where she’s not very experienced and he has to teach her how to ride him and is just super fluffy and sweet? 🫶🫶

this is such a good request… oh my lord. (this is so long, my apologies, but this had my brain WORKING!)

it started off with you in finnick’s kitchen, sitting at the table with an open book disregarded to the side. you were picking at your nails, nervousness racking at you, knee softly bouncing. finnick was out, helping a local fisher distribute catch to the neighboring shops. you weren’t sure when he’d return, but curiosity and nerves prickled under your skin; your face and neck hot from the previous chapter you’ve read in that book. it was a novel that caught your attention at the market a few days ago, the owner promising a ‘good time with that lil’ gem.’ so, with little to no persuasion, you bought it.

it was a beautiful read, as far as you’ve gotten. until you reached a chapter where the main character had a girl on top, riding him—the man doing hardly any work. you gasped, immediately pushing it off to the side. it wasn’t a lie that you lacked the experience, finnick loved you no less, of course. however, it didn’t help the guilt that tickled at your lower stomach, always letting him do the work. as skilled as that man was, with you not even coming close. you had sighed, slumping a little bit lower into the chair. wondering what you’d be like in the woman’s position, you assumed it’d be as artistic as the main character described it. how the lady’s thighs would shake, but she was persistent, chasing her own pleasure she had earned from working so hard.

you heard the door open, immediately sitting up and head snapping towards the direction of finnick’s appearance greeting you. “hey,” you squeaked out, before clearing your throat and going quiet. kicking off his boots, finnick’s brows knitted together in question. “hey, honey…,” he took in your nervous and rigged state, letting out a worried, “you okay?” either be honest with him or stay quiet, you thought, your eyes leaving his to examine that dangerous novel. he called your name, approaching you slowly, thoughts running between one assumption to the next. “uhm,” you started, before reaching out for the book, turning a few pages back, “can you—uh, please read this.” and finnick nodded, taking the book from you.

a few minutes had passed, only hearing the sounds of pages turning and your own labored breathing. “okay,” finnick said, setting the book down gently and turning to you. he crouched down when you refused to look up at him, so he was at a level to properly see you. “are you okay? did that make you uncomfortable? i can return it—,” you cut him off before he could continue, looking down at him and saying, “i want to do that.” finnick couldn’t help the small curl of his lips, face visibly softening from his own previous anxieties. “with you,” you clarified, hands reaching out and cupping his face. “i’d assume so,” he mumbled before leaning in to kiss you.

he had taken you to the room, reassuring you almost twenty times since you’ve situated yourself, still clothed, on his lap that you could stop anytime. you nodded, shutting him up by kissing him. it went on for a while, kissing him, until you experimented and ground down onto him. the friction was oh so sweet, and you continued at a slow pace. you moaned into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. finnick’s hands reached under your shirt, hands gripping onto the soft fat of your hips as he pulled you down—grinding up against you. “more, need more,” you breathed out. it didn’t take long for finnick to undress you, disregarding his own clothes somewhere. it also didn’t take long for you to reposition him against the headboard because, “i want you to be comfortable.” he smiled, giving your forehead a soft kiss as you lined yourself up against him.

when you lowered yourself onto him, tip entering your wet heat, you wondered why you were so nervous. it felt like any other time you and finnick had shared the bed together—until he started getting deeper. until he started reaching places missionary wouldn’t allow. “oh,” you exhale out, finally bottoming out against his base. it was so much all at once, your eyes slipping shut as your forehead fell to his shoulder. “sweetheart,” he groaned out, clenching his teeth when you fluttered around him. “how are you feeling? is this okay?” and you nodded, “just need a minute,” you whispered. after a few moments, you experimentally moved your hips. letting out a small whimper, you repositioned to hold onto his shoulders, head moving up to look him in the eyes. “you feel so good,” he leaned closer to mumble against your lips. his words encouraged you, hips starting to pick up a soft pace of moving up and down.

finnick’s eyes were so full of love, never looking away from you. his hands move up to your waist, grip slightly tightening as he helped you—noticed your thighs starting to tremble. “you’re so good, pretty girl,” he moaned, setting a pace himself to meet yours. “always know how to make me feel good,” and you threw your head back, nails digging little crescents into his shoulders. his mouth found your neck, leaving wet and messy kisses against the smooth skin. “finn,” you sobbed, becoming sloppy with your movements, so close to reaching that high finnick introduced you to. “that’s it, like that,” he encouraged against your neck, feeling his blissed out grin. you clenched around him, one hand coming down to play with your abandoned clit.

“fuck,” finnick murmured, thrusting up into your tight heat as he fell over the edge. you soon followed after, your fingers on your clit being brushed away by finnick to replace them with his own. “good girl, such a good girl for me,” he talked you through it, your thighs shaking as your chest fell up and down against his. when you came, you swear you saw stars, the whole world becoming so small—only you two existed.

that novel was right, riding is a form of art.