“Too fucked out to reply, sweetheart?” Simon teased, nipping at the skin at the base of your throat. “Nothin’ else you want to yell at me for?”
You let out a groan in reply, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you held onto Simon’s shoulders for dear life as he fucked up into you. “F-fuck you, Si.”
“I’m trying, love.” Simon nipped again at your throat, eliciting a yelp from you. “You come home all mad from your bad day, and take it out on me, huh? What did I do to deserve the attitude, sweet girl?”
“N-Nothing!” You panted breathlessly as Simon continued to ruthlessly pound into you, his cock hitting spots within you that you didn’t even know existed.
“That right?” Simon threw you a smirk, before stalling his hips completely, his cock resting motionless inside of you. “You just needed someone to take your bad mood out on?”
“‘M sorry, Simon.” You moaned, squirming underneath your boyfriend in hopes he’ll start moving again. “Please.”
“Nuh uh, you’ve been bratty. You want to be fucked? You gotta do the work yourself.” Simon flipped the two of you over, smirking as you now sat perched on top of him. “Go on then, use my cock to make you feel better.”
You pursed your lips together in frustration, your nails digging into Simon’s chest as you lifted yourself off his length, before sinking yourself back down onto it. The stretch of him inside of you never failed to make your mouth water. “Oh my god, Simon.”
Your nails began to leave crescents across your lovers chest, marks Simon would be sure to flaunt later. You set a steady pace, the only thing mattering in that moment being your inevitable orgasm.
“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” Simon praised, his eyes locked onto the divine sight of you fucking yourself on his cock. “Keep using me, go on. Make yourself cum.”
As Simon’s fingers squeezed at your hips, and his low grunts and groans filled the room you felt yourself growing closer to your high. His cock was sinking deep within you, causing your mind to run blank.
And with Simon’s sweet praises falling from his lips as you came undone on top of him, the entirety of your shitty day was long forgotten.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: excuse the double post- been in a bit of a writing frenzy.
Planning on taking a break for a little while soon, wanted to thank everyone again for the support💕
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"Insatiable" - Politician!Coriolanus Snow x Bimbo Wife!Reader
Part 2 HERE.
a/n: a birthday gift to my beloved @hopelesswritergall 🩷
Summary: Coryo doesn't like it when people look at what's his.
Word Count: 2,500
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, daddy kink, semi public sex, shoe riding, oral m receiving, deep throating, dacryphilia, choking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, biting
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 🩷
No matter how one feels about Coriolanus Snow, he has one thing to his credit that no one can ever take away from him.
His devotion to his wife.
He’s cold, calculating, and the exact opposite of you, the sweet, bubbly young woman who has no problem capturing the hearts of everyone she meets. You’ve lived in the Capitol all your life, coming from an affluent family - one of the richest in the city in fact, spoiled rotten by your parents. Coryo knew from the moment he saw you, at the tender age of seven years old, that he needed to have you. And eventually, he made it happen. You became his adoring girlfriend, all throughout your years at the Academy and University, his staunchest supporter day in and day out. And, after graduating, he asked you to marry him, which you eagerly accepted.
The two of you haven’t been married for very long when Coryo is appointed to the position of Minister of War, inserting himself as President Ravinstill’s right hand man. A lavish ball is to be held in his honor at the President’s residence, indicating the fact that he has truly arrived in high society. Coryo sighs, checking his watch, calling out to you that the limo has been pulled out and the two of you are going to be late if you don’t leave soon. Knowing you, you’re probably busy dolling yourself up, the thought making him smile. He hears you call out that you’ll be down in a moment, glancing up when you clear your throat.
His jaw drops when he sees you, dressed in a strapless baby pink gown, paired with a pink fur stole and impossibly high stilettos, again, pink of course. You look divine, he muses, watching you make your way down the stairs, the picture of beauty and femininity. He takes you into his arms the moment you reach the bottom floor.
“You look beautiful, my love,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your jaw, “Absolutely beautiful.” His gaze falls to the hollow of your throat, eyes lighting up as he remembers something unknown to you, “Close your eyes, baby.”
You acquiesce immediately, long lashes fluttering shut as you wait for him to tell you to open them again. You feel him lead you to the mirror in your entrance foyer, his hands deftly fastening something around your neck before he tells you to open your eyes. You gasp at what you see - a beautiful silver necklace, inlaid with pink diamonds and fine crystals. You trace the extravagant piece with your fingertips.
“Oh, Coryo, it’s beautiful!”
He rests his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped around you, whispering, “Everyone’s eyes will be on us tonight, my love. Let’s give them something to stare at.”
You smile at him, giggling softly as his hands move to squeeze your hips, lingering near your ass, “Okay, we should go, I guess?”
He nods, taking your arm, but not before presenting you with a white rose to place on your dress, making you smile. Coryo opens the door to the limo for you, ever the perfect gentleman, admiring the way your dress hugs your plump little ass as you climb inside, him coming in after you. The lights of the Capitol pass you by as your chauffeur takes you to the President’s residence, but the only thing you can think about is the feeling of Coryo’s hand, moving up your thigh, dangerously close to where he wishes to touch you the most. You give him a pout, shaking your head, stopping the path of his hand.
“Nope.”
He looks at you, surprised, “But, darling-”
“Last time we did this, all the press talked about for a month were the hickeys you left on my neck!”
He smirks at how adorable you look when you try to stand your ground and say no to him, squeezing your thigh, “Maybe we can make headlines again…”
“Coryo,” you whine, making him snicker, “We said no more limo quickies!”
“Come on,” he teases, “Let me have a little fun before I have to shake hands with all these assholes.”
He loves how innocent you act, squirming when his fingers ghost along your core. You’re so sweet, so pretty and adorable on the outside. But he knows you like it just as filthy and nasty as he does. You shake your head again.
“Nuh uh. I’m showing up looking perfect. No messed up hair. No rips in my dress. No hickeys.”
Coryo grumbles to himself, crossing his arms and pulling away from you. He leans back in his seat, thinking to himself that he’s going to get at what’s underneath that dress before the night is over, one way or another. You look too damn good for him to resist. And tonight’s supposed to be a celebration for him after all. He deserves this. He deserves everything you can give.
It’s not your first time here, but when you pull into the driveway of the President’s residence, you are once again struck by the sheer opulence of the place. You’ve grown up in the lap of luxury, sure, but this is another level. Your high heels click along the marble floor as an aide takes your stole and you and Coryo are led to the event hall, already filled with guests and journalists, and of course, President Ravinstill himself, along with the rest of the cabinet. You stand at his side, playing the part of the adoring trophy wife to perfection. He keeps his hand on your lower back, loving the feeling of your soft body against him as the two of you meet and greet everyone who is there in his honor. You charm everyone you meet, but none more so than the President.
Coryo hates it. How the dirty old geezer keeps eyeing you up and down, his gaze lingering on your cleavage, the curve of your hips, your bare shoulders. He wishes he could wring the old bastard’s neck, his jaw ticking as you do your best not to cringe when the man all but drags you to the dance floor, his paws all over you. How fucking dare he? You belong to Coryo. No one else. Only him. The President be damned. He can tell how uncomfortable you are, the tiny amount of fear in your eyes as the man continues to flirt with you. No one else can tell, but Coryo can. He’s always been able to read you like an open book. Yet, for his sake, you keep up appearances and continue the dance, only to be whisked away by your husband the moment it’s over.
He drags you to the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind you before rounding on you. You look up at him, brow furrowed in that way he’s always found so goddamn adorable.
“Coryo, what’re you doing-”
You gasp as his hand moves to your neck, just above where your necklace rests. He grips your throat, just enough to restrict your airflow, holding you in place. You can feel his cock throbbing against your thigh as he presses himself up against you. His voice is a low snarl as he finally speaks.
“Mine. No one looks at my wife like that.”
You whine softly, his thumb grazing against the hollow of your throat. You rub your thighs together, desperate for friction as you nod and mumble an affirmative, earning a smirk from your husband, his eyes blown so wide with lust that the blue of his irises is almost completely black.
“That’s a good girl.”
You remain silent as he turns you around, both of you facing the mirror. You feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blades down to the top of your dress, feeling him undo the clasp that holds it together. You allow it to fall to the floor, stepping out of it and turning to face him, gazing up at him. You chose to forego wearing a bra or panties tonight, not wanting to ruin the look of your dress, something that Coryo is endlessly grateful for. You look so perfect standing in front of him, wearing nothing but your high heels and the jewels he gifted you. His breathing grows heavier as he admires every inch of your body, his eyes roving over you ravenously.
Before he can even ask, you sink down to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes. You move to mouth at his cock over the fabric of his dress pants, giggling at the groan he lets out. Coryo moves to undo his belt and pants quickly, freeing his cock from its confines, watching as you take him between your pink lipstick-stained lips, eyes on him all the while. His hand moves into your hair, watching with delight as you move to grind yourself against his dress shoes as you suck him off, caressing his balls while he fucks your mouth. You moan against him, eyes filling with tears when he pushes himself far enough down your throat that you gag. But he knows you’ll tell him to stop if need be. You just gaze up at him with those watery eyes, holding your breath until he finally pulls out of your mouth, lifting you up onto the sink counter.
“Someone could see,” you giggle breathlessly as he lines himself up along your cunt, running the fat head of his cock against you, slapping it against your clit, reveling in the little whimper you let out.
“Let them,” he rasps as he pushes inside you with one fluid thrust, moaning at how wet and warm your sweet little pussy feels around him as he splits you open, “Let them all see and never forget who you belong to.”
His gaze falls to the jewels on your neck, the ones he gave you, as you breathe, “I belong to you, Daddy.”
Coryo chuckles darkly, lifting your thighs to wrap around his waist, “That’s right, baby. You belong to Daddy. And Daddy’s going to take what’s his.”
He loves the feeling of your stilettos digging into his muscular back as he begins pistoning his hips against yours, the sound of your whimpers filling him with a perverse pleasure he can’t even begin to describe. He’s wanted you all fucking day, and you’ve made him wait. So now? He’s going to take what he wants without any mercy. Your head falls back against the mirror as he ruts against you furiously, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the large bathroom.
“Going to fill this pretty little pussy up,” he hisses, “Watch my cum leak out of you. Going to fuck you so hard you’re going to feel me all week.”
“Yes, Daddy, fuck,” you manage to choke out, heels digging harder into his back, spurring him on to slot his hips against you even faster, harder, the head of his cock rubbing up against your sweet spot, making you whine pathetically, “Fuck, yes, Daddy, right there, oh my God!”
One of his hands moves to your throat again, eyes locked on yours as he squeezes slightly, fucking into you with abandon, knowing that it’s entirely possible you can be heard back at the party. But he wants them to hear the noises his pretty baby makes. Noises that only he can get you to make. Your tits bounce with each snap of his hips, making him smirk as he thinks to himself how pretty they’ll look when he knocks you up, all full, his lips wrapped around them, fuck, he can hardly contain himself. He’s going to breed you, his pretty little wife who he’s fucked so stupid all she can do is gaze up at him with parted lips, gasping for breath.
He lets out a low groan as you squeeze around him, squealing his name, spilling himself deep inside you mere moments later, his hot spend coating your walls, making you moan softly.
You stay like that, eyes locked on each other for a long moment, before you hear someone knock, asking if the bathroom’s occupied. Coryo quickly helps you off of the counter, back into your dress, both of you fixing yourselves up to make it seem like nothing happened. That’s when you see it.
You hadn’t even noticed him kissing your neck while the two of you were fucking, too blissed out by the feeling of being stretched open on his cock, but there it is.
“I look like I got mauled by a muttation!” You whine, giving him a pitiful look, “Coryo!”
He chuckles, kissing your neck right over the hickey, “You look like your daddy took what’s his.”
You giggle, nuzzling up against him as he leads you out of the bathroom, knowing eyes following the pair of you as you question, “How long till we can go home?”
Coryo presses a kiss to your temple, “Let’s just say a few more hello’s and then we can head back for round two.”
You nod, smiling to yourself happily.
As the night winds down and you get into the limo, you seat yourself in Coryo’s lap, sighing, burying your face in the crook of his neck as his arms wrap around you, “You should be President.” You giggle, “Then people will be too afraid to look at me or dance with me.”
Coryo arches a brow, his hands moving to your ass, squeezing your supple flesh, “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d make an adorable First Lady.” You nod and yawn softly, nuzzling up against him, prompting him to ask, his voice a bit more gentle now, “You sleepy, little one?”
You nod, eyes fluttering shut, “Mhm.”
“Then close your eyes and sleep,” he coos, stroking your face with the back of his hand, affectionate evident in his gaze, “Daddy has you.”
“Wake me up when we get home?” You request, “You promised round two.”
He chuckles, nodding at your words before pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “I did promise that, didn’t I?”
“Uh huh. And since you’re a big fancy government man now, you have to keep your promises,” you say, your voice so adorably innocent that it makes his chest ache, “It’s illegal if you don’t.”
Coryo laughs, kissing your cheek, letting his lips linger against your skin, “I’ll always deliver on my promises to you, baby. Don’t wanna risk getting arrested,” he jokes, loving the soft little laugh you let out.
“Love you, Coryo,” you mumble as you drift off, “Congrats, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
He holds you tight, gazing at you with all the love he possesses. The subtle rise and fall of your chest fills him with excitement as he thinks of what’s to come when you get home, but he can’t stop thinking about what you said.
That he should be President. That no one would dare look at you if he were.
A smirk crosses his lips.
“I love you too, baby.”
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cw. dragoncock, size kink, fem! reader
dragon zhongli who has to fuck you with his fat tip before he can even do anything more than that, your jaw hanging open as he shifts your lower half towards him— his trembling breath on your skin weeping, his nocturnal and safe cradle rounding up this dance of tension as your eyes turn into heart.
it's everywhere, zhongli was everywhere, invading your senses and penetrating your nostrils with his gracious, galvanizing scent— not to mention how sweat and all kinds of fluids were now pooling stickily onto your belly, thighs and cunt. you moan salaciously at the further stretch, sensing a heart beat on your warm sex as zhongli gives you another inch, not failing to see you absolutely loving it with that clouded grin on your lips.
his tip slides deeper and the copious amount of cum surely aided him in that, fueling an additional stretch on you while zhongli stays like that for a while, in you, forcing you to feel his large length push into your walls— the man knows he cannot let you indulge too much though, you'll either get a little greedy or it'll end up being a bit too much for your sweet, little cunt to bear, especially with the way he'd pinch and nudge against the swollen regions inside you with thrilling pressure.
zhongli was massive and a part of him feared that he'd be too much.
your hips roll up to meet his small thrusts, which were pitiful grinds if anything as zhongli looks at how your pussy was swallowing him suggestively, feeling entirely wanton as the sensations cascaded through him with a heady lust that transcended every expectation inside of his heart.
you know that if his fat cock hurts you, he will stop immediately and resort back in fucking you with his thick tip, because of course, zhongli wants you go enjoy it, there was nothing else he wanted more.
he always tells you to take your time until you're used to his shape, his size and his pace— used to his sensual movements which served as an invitation to your body spasming beneath his dominating one.
someone with such experience which zhongli harbored, wasn’t necessarily shy in his doings, not at all, in fact— he's blunt, experienced when he grabs your hips to him and pull his steadily hardening cock against the tight opening of your hole a bit more.
now, halfway through, you show him how obediently your walls throb around him when he fucks you, when he feeds your cunt with his aching erection until it's settled in a position you're pleased in and your legs get all sore, pushing you to a place of pleasure and harmony like anything you had known before.
it felt like it belonged here, just as it felt like you couldn't possibly move your hips anymore by how full you were of him— and his draconic instincts emerge as his eyes glow of divinity and lust, his shaft pushing into every bit of space your hole could offer.
dropping your head back into the pillows, you feel a knot forming in your stomach until it started to scratch and throb in you, yet the sensation of being overcrowded by his cock made it difficult to decide if it was your orgasm building up or if zhongli had already invaded the literal guts of you.
his thick, oozy cum was making the friction nearly unbearable to ignore as it turns you more sensitive— aside from the fact that his seed was impossibly hot, almost as if it was trying to burn through your walls when all it did was turn you needier. it has your body covered in his filth, and your voice was too broken with moans and gasps to form words as you mewl into his mouth with every touch and thrust.
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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