kermitkrqb - Tumblr blog

kermitkrqb · 2 months

Text

my man, my man, my man, even if he’s crazy 😔💗

Based on this ask

Dark!Coriolanus, Delulu!Coriolanus, StepDaddy!Coriolanus, DaddyCoriolanus

You've known Coriolanus Snow ever since you were kids. Your fathers were serving in the war together, in 12, and you both lived in the same building. Hell, he was the one you ran to when an officer came to your door with the heartbreaking news that your father was killed deep in the woods of District 12 by rebels alongside General Crassus Snow.

Coriolanus’ father.

Coriolanus, despite being a young orphan boy, hugged you and tried to give you comfort. He told you that he'd be your best friend forever.

God, you both were 8 when that happened.

Fast forward 13 years and now, at age 21, you’re finding yourself running to his door once again over another life change.

This time though, you’re going to him to make an announcement. An announcement that would change your friendship. One that he'd most likely view as scandalous.

But you had to tell him before he found out from gossip.

When the elevator doors dinged open, you stepped out onto the 12th floor. Taking a deep breath, you closed the distance between you and the penthouse door.

You prayed that he wouldn't push you away after your announcement.

He was the only real friend you had left after Sejanus' death. It'll kill you if Coryo cuts ties with you because of the situation you're in.

Even though you were afraid of his reaction to your news, you balled your hand up into a fist and quickly knocked on the door. God, you were so nervous to see him. Maybe you should just tell him your news in the doorway and then run off in shame?

Yea, that's what you should do. No way in hell is Coriolanus Snow, an assistant game maker to Dr. Gaul and a University student only a year away from graduating with degrees in both military strategies and political science, going to stick by your side once you tell him your scandalous news. What you've got to tell him is a big no no in proper Capitol society.

God, he'll probably just call you a whore and turn you away once he hears it.

The door opened, revealing Coriolanus standing in the doorway. A wide smile cracked his face open as his icy blue eyes took in your presence. “Darling, I wasn't expecting a visit from you today.” Reaching for your hand, he said, “Come in, we'll have tea with Grandma'am.”

You snatched your hand away from him before his long fingers could grasp it. Your eyes fell to study his floor shines (damn, you never realize how big his shoes- well his feet, were til now. Like damn…), as you told him, “I can't stay for tea. I only came by to tell you something; then leave.”

“Surely you can come inside and sit with me. Grandma’am adores you and whatever you have to tell me, you can do it while we have tea.”

“Coryo, I can't.” You heavily sighed.

Coriolanus furrowed his brows, your words making him concerned. You've never declined the invite to come in and have tea before. Usually you'd just walk on in, shoulders brushing by his, whenever you came over. The fact that you refused to move an inch, never made any motion to come inside, concerned him.

Instantly, he was placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and tilting your chin up with his knuckles. Your worried eyes meet his baby blues. Baby blues that searched the windows of your soul for answers on why you were acting so unlike yourself.

Even tho he'd never admit it, Coriolanus was worried. The way you were acting was so unlike you; it scared him.“Y/N, what's wrong? What aren't you telling me?”

“I'm pregnant.” You told your best friend, breath shaky, afraid that he'd view you with the same stigma and shame that Capitol citizens viewed unwed mothers with.

You're pregnant?

Pregnant!

Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. How did this happen? Okay, he knows how it happened. But he just didn't know that you were fucking somebody.

How could have Coriolanus missed the fact that you were seeing somebody; fucking somebody? Weren't people so disgustingly happy and flighty when they were young and in love? When they were having their innocence stripped away?

And then another thought struck him. One that made his blood boil. You had no reason to tell him that you were knocked up (since in the Capitol accidental unwed pregnancies always led to quick weddings) unless whoever got you in trouble abandoned you; forsaken and tricked you.

Had betrayed you.

And now you need your Coryo to fix everything; make everything all better.

“Who do I need to threaten?” The platinum blonde asked you, dead ass, and it took you by surprise.

You were expecting Coryo to be upset with you, disgusted even, but you weren't expecting him to ask who the baby daddy was and to offer to threaten them. Yea…That took you off guard.

“Coryo, you don't need to do that.”

“Of course I need to do that.” Coriolanus simply said. He rubbed your shoulders in a comforting manner while telling you, “Whoever got you into your delicate condition buttered you up with lies only to use you and turn their back on you. They betrayed you; broke your heart and I'm going to make them pay.”

“Coriolanus, no.” You shook your head. “You're not going to go hunting down my ex to maim him because he's not ready to be tied down.”

“Yes, I'm going to do exactly that because that scoundrel knocked you up and ran away from his responsibilities. He's living his life, without any second thoughts of you, while you're at risk of social damnation.”

“And here I thought you'd send me away and call me a whore, but instead you want to confront Livinius.” You scoffed incredulously.

“Livinius? As in Livia Cardew’s older brother, Livinius Cardew?” Coriolanus asked, his baritone full of disgust, as his icy blue eyes narrowed and turned cold.

Oh shit…did you just accidentally tell Coryo that Vinny’s the one that knocked you up? Yea…you did…

“I'm going to kill him.” Coryo swore as steam literally came out of his ears. He was so mad it wasn't even funny.

Hoping to calm him down, you placed your hands on his chest. “Coryo, please don't. Just leave it alone.”

Locking his eyes with yours, Coryo asked, “Do you love him?”

Did you love Livinius? No, you didn't. You only went out with him because your mother pushed you to. Your mother who had disowned you once you told her that you're pregnant. You did care about Vinny tho, even if you didn't love him.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't love him, but I was with him long enough to care.”

Coriolanus was relieved that you didn't love Livinius, but he thought you were foolish for still caring about him. He didn't want you to feel worse than you did, so he gave you the well meaning advice of, “Well, stop caring about him because he surely doesn't care about you.”

You were feeling a bit overwhelmed emotionally (blame it on the hormones) so you told your best friend, “Thank you for not turning me away, but I think I better go now.”

“I know how much of a bitch Helenium can be. Where are you staying?”

“Coryo…” You heavily sighed, not wanting to get into things with him about your mother kicking you out and disowning you.

“Jesus, she kicked you out, didn't she?” Coriolanus concluded with bitterness in his voice.

“Yea.” You confirmed with a nod. “I've been staying at a hotel near the rail station for now. It's just until I can get a job and find an apartment.”

“You're pregnant, Y/N. You don't need to stress about working long hours in retail and finding some shithole flat to stay warm in.” The platinum blonde said, only to push his apartment door open as wide as it'd go. Ushering you in with a large hand on your shoulder, he said, “Come on, you’re staying with me.”

“Coryo, you don't need to put me up. Really, I'm fine staying at the hotel until I figure things out.” You told him, as he closed the door behind you.

Turning you around to look at him, he told you, “I know that I don't need to do anything, but I want you to stay with me because you're my best friend. It's always been my job to protect you; keep you safe, Y/N.”

How could you argue with that? He was only looking out for you. Was only doing what he's always done for you, which was to try and protect you.

You let out a heavy sigh, only to tell him, “Okay, but it'll only be temporary. I promise, I'll figure something out.”

“You don't need to figure something out because I said you're staying with me. And don't worry about the expenses, I'm more than capable of handling it.”

“Okay.” You gave in, knowing fighting your best friend (who was as stubborn as a mule) on livng with him was a losing battle. “But, please, don't tell Grandma’am yet. I can't bare to see her disappointment at me about once she finds out.” You told Coriolanus while letting him usher you out of the entrance hall.

“Okay, we won't tell Grandma’am until you're ready.” Coriolanus agreed to your request before the living room came into view.

“I still can't believe you have a car.” You told Coriolanus as he opened the passanger’s side door of his black luxury sedan for you. The car looked imported, but you weren't sure since you didn't know much about cars. Well, other than how to sit in them that is.

“I told you, darling, I’ve got money now.” Coriolanus told you, a smug smirk painted on his lush lips, before shutting the door and rounding the car to the driver's side. He opened the door and took his seat behind the wheel. “So, do you have a lot of things at the motel?”

“No.” You shook your head as your best friend cranked the car engine to life. “Just a cardboard box of stuff and a couple trash bags of clothes.” You told him as he pulled out of the parking lot behind the Corso apartments.

“You have your clothes in garbage bags!?” Coriolanus exclaimed, giving you a scandalous look. “Little dove, you should've came to me as soon as Helenium kicked you out. I would've moved your things from the 8th floor to the 12th.”

“I didn't come to you right away because my mother gave me enough money to rent a hotel room for a few weeks. I had things under control; I just came over today to tell you about my pregnancy so you wouldn't find out from gossip.”

“Y/N, you don't have things under control. You're living in a one star hotel by the Panem Rail station, you're living out of trash bags, and you're unemployed.”

“Corio-” You began, only for your bestfriend to cut you off with, “Don't, Y/N, don't you dare try to convince me that you're okay because I know you're not.” He switched lanes (without using his blinkers, which is a big no no), while telling you, “You need my help and I'm in the position to give it to you. The Plinths, after losing Sejanus, have made me their heir and are very generous to me and my family.” His icy blue eyes looked between you and the road, only to say, “I'm not that poor boy giving you most of his share of cabbage and broth after letting you sleep over. I'm able to help you; support you the way you need now.”

“I know, but I don't want to be dependent on you.” What you left out was that you didn't want him taking care of a baby that wasn't his problem. He had the world at his fingertips, he didn't need his best friend's scandal holding him back.

“You're not dependent on me, darling. We're bestfriends and I want to help you.” Coriolanus told you while turning a corner and nearly clipping a car.

Oh hell, how did he even pass his driver's test? He drives like a maniac.

Oh, wait a minute, Strabo Plinth probably just paid off the DMV to give Coryo his license.

Not wanting to talk to your bestfriend anymore, you leaned forward and turned on the car’s radio. You fiddled with the tuner until you landed on a station you liked.

The music filled the atmosphere for maybe a minute or so before Coriolanus turned it off. Looking between you and the road, he said, “Look, Y/N, I know how it is to be manipulated and used by someone you love. To give them everything only for it not to be enough; for them to turn on you and betray you.” He took one of his hands off the wheel, only to grab yours and say, “Darling, you're my bestfriend and the only person who's truly ever been by my side genuinely; not because you want to use me for something. You mean a lot to me and I just want to help you because I know how stupid and foolish you feel right now after getting your heart broken by Livinius.”

You just nodded and squeaked out, “Okay.” You really didn't feel like talking about this stuff right now.

And when did Coriolanus become somebody that talked about feelings? For as long as you've known him he always ran away from feelings.

What you didn't know is that Coryo's been harboring a decade-long crush on you. A crush he never acted on because he was afraid of ruining your friendship. Afraid that you'd push him away for being too obsessive (he knows how he can be with his things). So, he just pushed his feelings for you onto the prettiest face he saw (Lucy Gray once he became her mentor). And when he came back to the Capitol, he threw himself into his studies and interning with Dr. Gaul that he only saw you occasionally.

Now he wishes he would've just acted on his feelings for you, then your child would be his. But, he was going to fix everything and make it all better. Starting by getting rid of Livinius Cardew.

“Just let me handle everything for you, my little dove.” Coryo said while pulling into the parking lot of your hotel.

A run down hotel right next to the rail station. The flashing sign reading ‘Vacancy’ looked about to burn out. The tall blue sign next to the hotel reading Motel 6 seemed to mock you as Coryo asked, “What room in this pre-Panem horror's yours?”

“205.” You simply said as he pulled into an empty parking spot.

He cut the cars engine and pocketed his keys, only to hold his hand out. “Key.” Was the simple word he said.

You grabbed your bag from the floor and fished your room keys out. When you dropped them into his palm, he cringed.

They were brass keys, not a key card like the nicer hotels had. Coriolanus didn't say a word, but the disgusted look on his face was enough to know that he didn't approve of your choice of room. Opening his door, he said, “I won't be long, wait here.”.

You just nodded, watching as he got out of the car and went to get your things.

How did you end up here, you don't know. You went to see Coryo earlier to tell him about that baby, you never meant for him to take you in. To drag you to your hotel to get your things. It feels like everything escalated so quickly and you don't know how to feel about it.

After collecting your things, Coryo brought you back to his penthouse and helped you get settled in the guest room.

At first staying with the platinum blonde man was hard, since you felt guilty about him taking care of you, but eventually after a few weeks you got over it.

Truthfully, it was nice spending time with your best friend (that you haven't seen in a while) and his Grandma'am, who you adored. You wish that Tigris, Coryo's cousin, was around more. But since Coryo helped her get a shop and become a stylist for the games, she moved out and into a luxurious condo that was located above her boutique.

But, unknown to you, in the last few weeks you've been living in the Snow penthouse, Coriolanus has been viewing you as more than his best friend. He, for some reason, has started viewing you as his girl. And that baby you're carrying, well…he's starting to view it as his child.

Especially when you came home from an appointment with the first printed scan of the baby. You waited until Grandma'am was tucked in bed before asking Coriolanus if he wanted to see the scan. You were scared he'd say no, but you asked because you wanted to share it with somebody.

You wanted somebody to be your partner during this time, this pregnancy, even if that someone was your best friend.

Was Coriolanus Snow.

Turns out that you had nothing to be scared of since Coryo flashed you a genuine smile and told you that he'd be honored to see the printouts of your first ultrasound scan.

You had a couple of copies, so you gave him one. And when you gave it to him, standing nervously in his room, next to him as he sat at his desk, he smiled and ran his thumb over the tiny bean shaped baby (well fetus) in the scan. “How far along are you, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, never taking his eyes off of the piece of paper in his large hand.

Going over to the edge of his bed and sitting down, you explained, “I’m a few days away from being 9 weeks. Dr. Wellock says I'm due during the summer, in mid-June.”

The platinum blonde ran a hand thru his hair while grumbling, “Of course, baby's due when I'll be at my busiest preparing for the games.”

“I'm sure I’ll be on my feet by then, Coryo. Don't worry about it, the baby's not coming for another 7 months.”

But Coryo had to worry about it. He didn't want to be so busy with helping Dr.Gaul prepare for the games come mid-June that he misses out on the birth of his first born. And in his mind you were carrying his first born. Just staring at that baby, no bigger then a bean, on the print out he was holding made something paternal (and delusional) snap in his head like a rubber band. Now, after seeing that scan printout, he was convinced that your baby was his.

Coriolanus has never fucked you (ever), but he's convinced himself that the baby's his. That you're his perfect, innocent, little dove. His darling rose of a best friend. His baby girl. So that the baby you carry has to be his too.

The little tiny baby had a strong heartbeat and stats according to the print out, so he knew it was his.

His, his, his.

“You and the baby are staying here with me, Y/N. And that's final.”

“Okay.”, You agreed, only because you knew that you'd need help with a newborn. Who were you to turn away your best friend's help. Coriolanus cares deeply for you; wanted to make sure that you and the baby had the things you deserved. You couldn't fault him for that.

If only it was that simple, that innocent.

But it wasn't.

No.

Somewhere in the platinum blonde's head wires got crossed and he blew a fuse. He thinks the baby's his, and since he thinks that he'll never let you or the baby leave his penthouse.

Ever.

Nearly 3 months into living with Coryo, he came home one evening hunched over; coughing. The handkerchief he was coughing into was stained with blood. He staggered to his room, ignoring the startled cries and pleas from you and Grandma'am.

Turning to the worried old woman, dressed in her jewels and bright tunic, you assured her, “I’ll go check on Coryo.”

“Oh, should I call that maid, the Plinth woman, to put on a pot of tea for our Coriolanus?” Grandma'am asked as you rose from your seat.

When will Grandma’am realize that Ma Plinth (who lives on the 11th floor) isn't the maid? Ma Plinth just happens to be the mother of your late friend, Sejanus, and is just a warm, kind person who cleans the penthouse a few times a week and spends time with Grandma'am (and watches her when Coryo has to go somewhere for a long period of time or when you have appointments). Is Grandma’am’s memory, her senses fading that quickly? You know she can be a bit…much, sometimes- but still, is her memory getting worse?

“No.” You shook your head. Lightly patting her hand, you said, “I'll put some on if he wants it.”

Grandma'am just nodded, watching you as you left the main room and went down the hall towards Coriolanus’ room.

You knocked once on his bedroom door before opening it and peeking your head inside. “Coryo, are you okay?” You asked, seeing that he was sprawled out on his side, nearly falling over the edge of the bed, while bloodily hacking into his handkerchief.

Looking up at you, icy blue eyes full of pain, he croaked, “I’ll be fine, Y/N.”

You didn't know if you believed him or not. He didn't look like he'd be fine. Sighing, you entered the room and went over to him. “What’s wrong, Coriolanus?” You asked, getting into the bed with him and pushing a stray sweaty curl that got loose from its slick back style, away from his face.

“Nothing, just suppose it's something I drank.

“Something you drank?”

“I had tea with Livinius, after my work with Dr. Gaul today, to speak with him about you and the baby. The tea must've been bad because he dropped dead at the tea room and I'm sick.”

“Coriolanus, what did you do?” You asked, knowing deep down that bad tea doesn't kill people and make them jack up blood. That your best friend had a hand in whatever happened.

“I didn't do anything, darling.” Denied the platinum blonde, clutching his handkerchief as he welt blood tickling the back of his throat.

“Don't lie to me, Coryo. Please, as my best friend you owe me the truth.”

Coryo let out a string of loud, bloody coughs; staining his handkerchief and soaking it crimson. Lifting his head up off his pillow and looking at you from over his shoulder he told you, “I killed him for us and the baby.”

“What? Why?” You gasped, eyes wide, searching for answers.

“Livinius offered to give me money for you to get rid of our mistake, before you got too far along. I wasn't going to let him get away with that, so I poisoned him.” Coriolanus told you, body wracked with uncontrollable coughs. Coughs that made him spit up thick spools of blood.

“Coryo, are you insane? Just because he wanted me to get an abortion doesn't mean you had to poison him.”

“He was dangerous to us, little dove. He heard you moved in with me and invited me out for tea to discuss your condition and I wasn't going to let him threaten our baby and get away with it.”

You blinked as you took in his words. Our baby. Our baby as in his and your baby. Not your baby, but ours. He considered your baby his despite the fact that you've never fucked him, ever, in your entire life.

What the hell's wrong with him? Has he lost it? Was he delusional?

What the hell?

“Just hold me, baby. Please, just hold me.” Coryo asked between bloody coughs that had him gagging in pain.

You were beyond shocked. Your best friend had murdered your ex with poison and had inadvertently poisoned himself to the point that he's currently knocking on heaven’s door right now. And all because he had some delusion that your baby, your baby that was fathered by the man that he just murdered, was his.

How do you deal with this? Is there any way to deal with this?

Sighing, you decided to give into Coryo's request. He killed your ex, Vinny, to keep the baby safe. A baby he’s convinced is his. But, he did it with good intentions.

They say hell is paved with good intentions.

So…

You held him as his body shook and he coughed up a concerning amount of blood. He was always there for you, the least you could do was be here for Coriolanus. His baby blues had so much pain swimming in them. You couldn't imagine how bad he felt right now as his body was fighting itself.

“You're not going to die, are you, Coryo?” You asked, afraid that you'd lose him because of a rash decision he made.

“No.” Coryo weakly shook his head. Slowly turning around, so that he could comfortably rest his head on your chest, he told you, “I'm partially immune to this poison; I'll just be sick for a few days. He cleared his throat, fighting off a cough, and placed his hand on your belly. “You're slowly starting to get a tiny bump.” His baritone was full of pride as he told you, “I think we should stop hiding from the stigma of being unwed parents and just tell Grandma'am that she's going to be a Great-Grandma’am.”

“She's going to insist that we get married, Coryo.” You pointed out, hoping that he'd drop the notion of telling Grandma’am. You're certain that he's not ready to settle down yet.

If he was, wouldn't he have somebody by now?

Little did you know that he did have somebody.

He has you.

And that's why, in between coughing up blood, he told you, “I can convince Grandma’am that we'll have to wait until the baby’s born to have the wedding, so that you’ll be able to fit into your dress and drink celebratory champagne at the reception.”

And those words cemented that fact that your best friend was delusional. He didn't just want to raise your baby as his own, but wanted to marry you too.

Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he told you, “Since we're telling Grandma'am about the baby as soon as I'm feeling well enough to get out of bed, we can end our charade of chastity. You can finally share my bed, my darling.”

Coryo smirked, thinking that his words were charming, before hacking and soaking his already stained handkerchief with more crimson liquid.

With the metallic smell of blood and the sweet smell of roses mingling in the room, you found yourself giving into Coriolanus' delusions. You agreed to tell Grandma'am about the baby and to move your things into his bedroom.

Because what choice did you have? Coriolanus killed to keep you and the baby safe. It was clear to you that he'd do anything for you and your child.

At least he'd be a devoted husband and father, even if he’s a bit delusional.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @staylowessafe

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader

487 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 2 months

Text

Perfect Pair || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Something about evil blondes is gonna do it for me every single time. Until next time, lovelies! 💗

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow x dark!reader, enemies to lovers, Coryo’s violent thoughts, attempted murder, spit play?? (does it count? idk. but i’ll leave this here anyway), dub-con kisses.

‘No loose ends’, Something Coriolanus often reminded himself. The same words had echoed in his head when he had sent his only friend to be hung. Poor, trusting, and foolish Sejanus. Coriolanus wished it could have stopped there, but it seems everywhere the Snow boy stepped, a trail of withering destruction followed. Once that destruction had eventually caught up with him, he’d found that his beloved Lucy Gray Baird wanted nothing to do with him. Why couldn’t she have understood? Everything he did was for her, for them. She had fled from his love as if it were poison, and maybe it was. But, he’d argue that she was just as poisonous, latching onto him as he did everything in his power to ensure her safety- milking him for everything he had. Only to leave once she had found out that he in fact did everything in his power to ensure her safety. So what if he had killed Sejanus? Sejanus’ recklessness would have gotten them all killed eventually. Although, it was all over now. In the form of Lucy Gray Baird, he had cut off his final loose end, leaving her in the forest and vowing to never love again- which was originally the plan.

There you were, standing across the room in a perfectly poised manner. He loathed it, loathed you. Coriolanus knew that you had always been smart, a close contender to the Plinth prize, a top student like him but not quite as good. Although, he had underestimated you. A few nights ago, much like the rest of your Academy classmates, you were celebrating the end of the semester at university. He had found himself exchanging petty insults with you on some balcony when you had revealed something rather bone-chilling. Coriolanus would have pushed you off the second floor if it weren’t for the abundance of people in the next room. Tipsy on posca, you had let it slip that you knew the circumstances of Sejanus’ death. How? He did not find out. You had taunted him, backed him into a corner, threatening to tell the Plinth’s that the golden boy they had adopted was not so golden after all. You had made a fool of Coriolanus Snow of all people. He hated you for it… but you had done something even more unexpected. You let him go. Although, he wasn’t going to take the risk. He couldn’t afford it, not after everything he had done to get where he is now- in the care of the two grieving parents of Sejanus, living the life of luxury he had always deserved.

Coriolanus had convinced Strabo Plinth to host another gala, hiding behind the excuse of ‘making connections’ for when he would eventually rise to power as the President. It was partially true, although, his main motive was to lure you in. Coriolanus had planned to poison you tonight, alongside a few other people he saw as threats. He would disguise it as another rebel attack, blame the staff- anything to ensure his protection. He watched from across the room as you eagerly conversed with a few gamemakers and former classmates. It was almost sickening to him, the sweet smiles you would flash, the way you would carry yourself so confidently. He could see right through you, because you were just like him. Driven by ambition, power hungry. He hated you. You caught his eye from where you stood, holding his gaze as you sent him a smile. What others might have interpreted as an innocent interaction, Coriolanus knew it was a silent threat. He was the first to look away, making his way through the crowd as he headed towards a secluded hallway, silently beckoning you to follow.

You of course took the bait, like he had planned, “Well if it isn’t Coriolanus Snow.” The click of your heels echoed across the hallway as you made your way over to him, like a snake slithering to its prey. You were adorned in a blood red gown, quite fitting for your personality, he thought. You had a glass of posca in your hand, the very drink that had gotten him into this mess. Coriolanus studied you for a moment, his blue eyes piercing through you before he broke the silence, forgoing any pleasantries, “Y/n. What is it that you want from me?” Unfazed by his cold tone, a small smile spreads across your lips, “What are you willing to give me?” The nerve of you. He wanted to scream, choke you until the life faded from your eyes, instead, he took a deep breath, “$50,000, and a formal introduction to Dr Gaul. Perhaps she’ll mentor you as well.” Coriolanus knew fully well that he was offering money he didn’t have, Strabo would never give him such amounts of money on short notice, but you didn’t have to know. After all, you’d be dead by the end of the night.

You tilt your head at him, swirling the glass of posca in your hand as you thought about his proposition, “$50,000? I’m sure you can be a little more generous Snow…considering you’re practically a Plinth now.”Coriolanus feigned annoyance, stepping closer and eventually cornering you, “You have plenty of money, what use would you have with even more?” He watched as your breath catches in your throat due to his proximity, he relished in your reaction and watched as you caught yourself, putting on a confident facade, a hint of flirtation in your voice. “You’re right… but I do like playing with you… you’re my favourite toy.” Coriolanus finds himself wondering who else had fallen victim to your vicious games. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear, “Is that so? I don’t quite like this game of yours…” He notices how your breathing falters with every inch forward that he takes. He uses this to his advantage, pressing up against you and leaning in so his nose brushes against yours, as if he were to kiss you. Your vision is shielded as he invades your personal space, dulling your senses as you focus on his touch. With light fingers, he reaches into his pocket and drops a small dose of poison in your glass of posca. He whispers, “50 grand, take it or leave it.”

Coriolanus takes a step back, watching as you try compose yourself. He can only smirk at your flustered state, and inevitably, you take a sip from your glass on instinct. You’re about to take another sip when you see the way he’s eyeing your drink. A glint of malice in his eyes. You swallow nervously, stepping forward in panic, “What did you do to me?” He bites back a laugh, grinning to himself, “Soon enough, you’ll be dead- poisoned. But don’t worry dear, you won’t be the only one. The world will know your names, the poor victims to another ‘rebel attack.’ Don’t you know? Snow lands on top.” But then you do the unthinkable. You take another swig from your glass, filling your mouth with the poisoned posca before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him into a forceful kiss. It was intoxicating, the way the sweet but deadly wine traveled down his throat, alongside the soft pillowy touch of your lips against his own. Mutually assured destruction. He wanted to hate you for it, he really did, but you were just so brilliant. Is this what he had been missing all along? He had liked the supposed innocent love he shared with Lucy Gray, but this, you, were truly deadly. Just like him.

Coriolanus stumbles back, shocked. You watch with a somewhat amused expression, considering the circumstances. “Time is ticking Snow. I assume you’re not stupid enough to go without the antidote?” He feels his eyes roll into the back of his skull, he reluctantly pulls out another vial, and before you can snatch it from his hands, he holds it above your head. You scowl as he taunts you, and he simply laughs, “My god, you’re insufferable.” You watch with outrage as he takes a generous swig from the vial, and before you can say anything, he presses his lips to yours, just as forcefully. You let out a soft groan as he transfers some of the liquid into your mouth, you swallow hungrily, keeping your lips locked with his. You wanted to hate him, but the way he kissed you had your heart fluttering with desire. Perhaps he isn’t so bad, you think. Coriolanus pulls away, his breathing heavy as he takes in your flushed state and slightly swollen lips. It was that day forward that your two fates would be sealed. “Stand by me Y/n. Stand by me, and we’ll be untouchable.” And so you do, eventually becoming the First Lady of Panem as he rises to power as President, a perfect pair indeed.

A/N: Also, saw someone shit talking the Coryo fan fics out there the other day?? I think most, if not all of the writers in this fandom are absolutely amazing, which is why I’m confused. So, if you don’t like the content, don’t read it, and you think it’s so bad, then write your own. Go on then. There are these amazing writers taking the time out there to fulfil your asks, your requests in their own time. They don’t have to, but they do anyway. Show your writers the love and appreciation they deserve. Sorry for the rant, I just hate it when people are so rude.

Support your writers! 💗💗💗

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #snow lands on top #coryo x reader #tbosas fanfiction

224 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 2 months

Text

Perfect Pair || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Something about evil blondes is gonna do it for me every single time. Until next time, lovelies! 💗

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow x dark!reader, enemies to lovers, Coryo’s violent thoughts, attempted murder, spit play?? (does it count? idk. but i’ll leave this here anyway), dub-con kisses.

Support your writers! 💗💗💗

224 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 2 months

Text

Perfect Pair || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Something about evil blondes is gonna do it for me every single time. Until next time, lovelies! 💗

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow x dark!reader, enemies to lovers, Coryo’s violent thoughts, attempted murder, spit play?? (does it count? idk. but i’ll leave this here anyway), dub-con kisses.

Support your writers! 💗💗💗

224 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 2 months

Text

THG characters and how they show you they love you without saying i love you

coriolanus - coriolanus isn’t the type to verbally exclaim how he feels as he’s very closed off about his inner emotions and thoughts. however, he speaks through his actions. he would come home late one night to see you curled up on the couch, as though you were waiting for him, asleep. and he would be the type to pick you up and carry you to bed, tucking you in and giving you a kiss on the forehead before getting himself ready for bed as well. i also think coriolanus would show you he loves you by reading to you on his days off, running his fingers through your hair as he reads out loud to you.

sejanus - sejanus would show you he loves you by giving you food. whether he bakes the treats himself or his Ma makes them, he would gift them to you, wanting to make sure that you’re eating enough. he would also be the type to show you he loves you by gifting you flowers once in a while as a surprise. modern sejanus would also send you a good morning paragraph each morning.

tigris - tigris would show you she loves you by taking care of you. she’d make you food, ensure that you’re feeling okay, get you medicine when you’re sick. her love language is definitely acts of service. she would do anything for you because that’s just who she is as a person.

finnick - finnick would show you he loves you by the look in his eye when he looks at you. his beautiful green eyes are always glossy with admiration when he looks at you. and anyone can tell that he absolutely adores you by the way he looks at you. he also shows you he loves you by listening to you intently. whatever you have to say, he’s listening to you wholeheartedly.

johanna - johanna shows you she loves you by being vulnerable around you. she almost always has her guard up. but around you, she’s able to be her true authentic self without having to worry about judgement or being portrayed as weak. because with you she’s just johanna, nothing else.

peeta - peeta shows you he loves you by baking for you or painting a picture for you. he will paint a picture of you or of something you love and gift it to you to show you how much you mean to him. he will remember even the most minuscule details about you and uses them to give you something that you will cherish. because that’s how much he cherishes you.

katniss - katniss shows you she loves you by singing to you. she doesn’t sing often, doesn’t believe she’s got much of a voice for it. but around you? she’s comfortable singing. she loves singing to you. especially when you wake up from a nightmare, she’ll lay next to you, holding you closely as she sings a small tune in your ear.

123 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 2 months

Text

Perfect Pair || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Something about evil blondes is gonna do it for me every single time. Until next time, lovelies! 💗

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow x dark!reader, enemies to lovers, Coryo’s violent thoughts, attempted murder, spit play?? (does it count? idk. but i’ll leave this here anyway), dub-con kisses.

Support your writers! 💗💗💗

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #snow lands on top #coryo x reader #tbosas fanfiction #kermitkrqb #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fic

224 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 4 months

Text

lucy gray is better than me, bc i would have 100% came back to ‘talk things out’ 😝

Catch me if you can || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Told myself I wasn’t going to write anymore fan fic but here I am 😋…. I’m starting to realise I have a thing for tall and blonde villains.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow likes to chase, fem!reader likes to be caught, established relationship, predator/prey dynamics, public sex, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), praise.

Here’s a taste of the fic:

“The sight of you running away further stokes the sinful desire building up in his chest. You’re wearing a long white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the very picture of innocence. How he’d love to ruin you.”

MDNI: By clicking read below, you are responsible for the media you consume.

Coriolanus’ voice echoed around the woods, urging the birds to flee, “If you come out now, I’ll go easy on you…I promise.” A lie, one that you had once fallen for before. Coryo, was always so pent up after chasing you, the adrenaline fuelling him as he had his way with you- rough and unforgiving. Every single time. Your thighs subconsciously squeeze together at the thought, but you were on a mission here. Don’t get caught…for now. You’re light on your feet, tip-toeing across the forest floor, ignoring the pulsing need in between your legs and crawling up your spine. Much like the man chasing you, you liked to drag out the chase. Although he was much stronger and faster, you had found ways around that. Often finding ways to stall or catch him off guard before he inevitably claimed his prize, you found that it was always worth the wait.

Peering out from behind the thick tree, your eyes scanned the area around you. The woods seemed endless, splotches of brown and green merging together the longer you looked. It was eerily quiet. You shuffled around the tree trying to get a better sense of your surroundings, when you feel the weight of a small branch snapping underneath your foot. The snap seemed to echo, and you had no doubt that Coriolanus was onto you. Rustling in the distance is heard before you see a tall and broad figure emerge from one of the bushes, his eyes glinting with excitement as he takes in your flushed and nervous state. You feel the air leave your lungs before you snap out of your trance and begin to run. You almost regret wearing a dress today, the length of its skirt has you almost stumbling to muddy ground beneath you. Though, you both know it’s for easier access.

The sight of you running away further stokes the sinful desire building up in his chest. You’re wearing a long white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the very picture of innocence. How he’d love to ruin you. It doesn’t take long for Coriolanus to catch up to you, he could practically already feel you in his arms. The two of you stumble into a forest clearing, circling around each other, chests heaving from adrenaline. The cocky bastard smirks at you, “Ready to give up, dove?” A smile adorns your face, seemingly innocent at first as you evade his question, “I really like this dress you bought me Coryo. It’s really pretty,” you twirl but are wary enough to keep a safe distance, “…so pretty in fact that I chose not to wear anything underneath it at all… I didn’t want to distract from the dress of course.”

His eyes widen slightly, jaw clenching as he takes a moment to register your words. Your body moves before your mind can catch up, bringing him back to reality as he watches you sprint away once more. Coryo begins to chase after you with a renewed vigour, grinning to himself in victory as he catches the back of your dress, pulling you backwards and towards him. His muscular arms circle around your waist as you wriggle against him, your plump ass unintentionally grinding against his now apparent bulge. Coriolanus is now manhandling you, bringing you towards the nearest tree. He presses your front against the tree, your cheek turned to the side so you can catch a glimpse of what he is doing. The familiar feeling of the rough bark against your skin excites you. His hands circle your wrists as he pins your arms up, caging you in as he now purposely presses his crotch against the swell of your ass, mimicking the act of fucking you, “Caught you.”

You let out a pathetic whimper as he continues to press himself against you, his eyes watch you with amusement and lust. Coryo mocks you, “Already can’t speak? I haven’t even started yet…” He lets go of one of your arms and it stays there as you cling onto the tree. He pushes your hair away from your neck and starts to trail rough kiss below your ear, sure to leave a mark for the ones that have faded. A soft whine leaves your lips, “Coryo please…” The tall blonde ignores you before pulling away slightly, he whispers into your ear, “Patience is a virtue.” You scoff at him, “You’re no saint.” You feel him smirk against your sensitive skin, “Maybe…but that doesn’t stop you from chanting my name like one.” Before you can reply, he flips you around to properly face him before getting on his knees, you spread your legs apart before he asks you to as he hikes up your dress, “Good girl… now hold on to your skirt for me.” You feel yourself pulse at his praise and fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together. Your shaky hands hold on to the skirt of your dress, partially shielding your vision of him.

True to your words, Coriolanus is faced with the sight of your bare cunt, glistening with desire. He trails a long finger across your wet folds, grazing your clit slightly. Your legs tremble and he smirks, “Is this all for me, darling?” He doesn’t wait for a response before beginning to lap you up with his tongue, pressing it flat against you before using the tip to circle your bundle of nerves. You let out a strangled moan, cheeks burning with embarrassment despite the fact that you’re both in the depths of the woods. He eases a finger into you, curling it upwards and hitting that sweet spot, your knees buckle slightly but he grips onto you with his free hand. Soon enough, one finger turns into two, and two turns into three as he stretches you out in preparation for him. You’re just about to reach your peak when he suddenly withdraws his fingers from your core and stands up from his position.

“Why’d you stop, I was so close…”, your words of protest quickly die down as he unbuckles his pants. His length springs up against his stomach, hard and pulsing, twitching slightly as pre-cum leaks from the pretty pink tip. Coriolanus uses this and some of the left over slick on his hand to stroke himself before lining up with your centre. You can’t help but stare. He hikes up one of your legs, letting it circle around his hip as he pushes into you. Instinctively your arms wrap around his neck, clinging on to him as he bottoms out inside of you. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, setting a rough and unforgiving pace as he keeps a firm grip on your hips that would surely bruise later on. A series of moans and grunts leave our lips as he repeatedly thrusts into you. The slight curve of his length pressing into your sweet spot again and again.

Coriolanus’ hands are everywhere he can touch, he’s tugging down the neckline of your dress, palming at your breasts whilst nipping marks across your collarbone. Despite still being clothed, you’ve never felt so exposed as he fucks into your wet heat. The fact that anyone could stumble across the two of you has you clenching around him. You can’t help but wonder what you’d do if someone saw you in this vulnerable state. Would you push Coryo off of you? Would you let them watch? Maybe you’d even let them join the both of you… You snap out of your trance after a particularly sharp thrust, Coryo snapping his hips against yours harshly and he brings a hand down to where you are each connected. His thumb rubs harsh circles around your clit and you clench around him, “Coryo ‘m close…please.” Coriolanus isn’t too far behind, you notice in the way his thrusts become slightly sloppy and how he grips onto you tighter, “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You do as he says, your walls fluttering around his length as he’s spearing you open with his length. Soon thick ropes of come shoot into you, some of it dripping down your thighs as warmth envelopes you. Coriolanus goes limp, chest heaving with exhaustion as his length softens inside of you. He doesn’t let you go, holding you against the tree as you both catch your breath. A peaceful quiet remains as you stroke his hair lovingly as he leaves doting kisses in the crook of your neck. He breaks the silence, you can feel his cheeky smile against your skin, “Maybe next time, I should bring some rope to tie you up.”

A/N: no bc this evil man has me kicking my feet nd giggling in bed

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #snow lands on top #coryo x reader

370 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 4 months

Note

Guess who just popped up in my feed after a long time of searching for them? YOU! I may not be a snow fan but I’m going to show love💗

this means so much to me! i havent been active in a while but im soooo glad my mutuals remember me 🥹💗

1 note · View note

kermitkrqb · 4 months

Text

Catch me if you can || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Told myself I wasn’t going to write anymore fan fic but here I am 😋…. I’m starting to realise I have a thing for tall and blonde villains.

Here’s a taste of the fic:

MDNI: By clicking read below, you are responsible for the media you consume.

A/N: no bc this evil man has me kicking my feet nd giggling in bed

370 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 4 months

Text

Catch me if you can || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Told myself I wasn’t going to write anymore fan fic but here I am 😋…. I’m starting to realise I have a thing for tall and blonde villains.

Here’s a taste of the fic:

MDNI: By clicking read below, you are responsible for the media you consume.

You do as he says, your walls fluttering around him as he’s spearing you open with his length. Soon thick ropes of come shoot into you, some of it dripping down your thighs as warmth envelopes you. Coriolanus goes limp, chest heaving with exhaustion as his length softens inside of you. He doesn’t let you go, holding you against the tree as you both catch your breath. A peaceful quiet remains as you stroke his hair lovingly as he leaves doting kisses in the crook of your neck. He breaks the silence, you can feel his cheeky smile against your skin, “Maybe next time, I should bring some rope to tie you up.”

A/N: no bc this evil man has me kicking my feet nd giggling in bed

#tbosas #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top #kermitkrqb

370 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 5 months

Text

beautifully written! 🩷

let me in (don't give in)

warnings/tags: minors DNI, movie/book spoilers probably, capitol!reader, semi unreliable narrator!reader, daddy issues!reader, established!coriolanus, weirdo!coriolanus, obsession, manipulation, minor but effective drugging, power imbalance, abuse of power, forced intimacy, stalking, these tags are not exhaustive word count: 9.7k (LMFAO) summary: Coriolanus’ eyes have always been bigger than his stomach can handle.

divider by @/cafekitsune I think this might be the most insane run I've done on a character. definitely up there with writing 60k words for rafe lmfao. this is the last of the trifecta of readers that haunted me <3

You remember his face from the Academy orientation video.

He’s grown in notoriety since then but you have never forgotten the awkward stretching of his fingers nor the misplaced arrogance of his intonations.

His hair is lighter and cooler in tone, a stark contrast to the waxy yellow he sported in the video. His eyes remain the piercing blue you know them to be. His arrogance is natural now too, an unconscious thing rather than the conscious mask he had to step into as he did in the Academy.

You tear your attention away from him. Casiphia will be disappointed. She was always fond of how pitiful he looked, especially in his ill-fitting clothes.

You have no strong opinion on Coriolanus Snow. He is four years your senior so you have never been given the chance to cross paths with him in an academic setting. It mattered not as his influence remained a festering wound in both the Academy and the University.

As heir to the Plinth fortune, he is considered a dutiful one. You’ve seen glimpses of him around the office. Despite Mr. Plinth’s intentions on allowing Coriolanus the choice of taking over his business or finding his place within the Gamemakers, it is clear Mr. Plinth harbors a shameful relief at Coriolanus’ competency.

You excuse yourself from the corner you and your peers have secluded yourselves to. You haven’t bothered to engage as you should during this dinner party, more concerned with making an appearance than leaving an impression. You wave off Nerina’s offer to join you with a shake of your head and a smile. The smile drops as soon as your back faces them and you fight the urge to rub at your tired eyes.

It doesn’t take long for you to find the balcony. The air is chilly but it is a welcome reprieve from the stuffy dining hall of the Byzans home. You search through your pockets and locate your pack of cigarettes and lighter. It is a vice your father has unfortunately passed onto you.

You cover the lighter with your other hand, hissing when you the flame catches the tip of your thumb. Smoking is not something you indulge in often if at all but having so many University alums in the same room makes your skin crawl.

Leaning over the railing, you look over the city. It is nearly midnight and yet the city is fully lit in preparation for the Victory Tour.

Human memory is fleeting because how can you have already forgotten what life was like before these Victory Tours? What did the Capitol do before the Hunger Games became the spectacle they now are?

You take a long drag and hold it in your lungs until it aches fiercely. Then you slowly exhale. You plan on heading out soon seeing as you have accomplished what you needed.

A shoe scuffs the floor behind you. His scent gives him away before his voice.

Roses.

“Oh. I didn’t realize someone was already out here.”

You turn around. Coriolanus stands behind you, adjusting the cuffs on his jacket. His hairline is slightly sweaty and the dark circles under his eyes are heightened in this shadowed lighting. But you are searching for imperfections so you’re sure everyone else sees him as the composed man he sets out to appear as.

“I was just about to leave so it’s all yours,” you say with a false sweet smile.

His eyes flicker to your barely started cigarette. “No, sorry, I interrupted you.” But he makes no move to step back into the home.

“You can join me. I don’t mind.” The lie is automatic. You can’t imagine Coriolanus wants something from you but then again, there is always something to be gained even from the most insignificant of people.

He moves forward until he’s near you. With the way he keeps looking at your cigarette, you are tempted to offer him one. But you don’t. He can ask if he wants one so bad.

He wraps his fingers around the railing. “I’ve seen you around Strabo’s office,” he says after a moment. You don’t miss how he purposefully uses Mr. Plinth’s first name. A stupid power play considering everyone knows of the relationship between the two. “Which I must say, I’m surprised by.”

You know what he’s not saying but you won’t make it easy for Coriolanus. “The pay is surprisingly better than the offer I got from Baycroft,” you shrug, tapping out some of the ashes.

“Baycroft tends to overpay,” he says thoughtfully. “Strabo isn’t exactly a generous man so it’s a curious thing he went out on such a limb for you.”

You think it’s mighty generous for Mr. Plinth to bankroll the Snow family but what do you know? “Is it though?” you ask. You hold the cigarette daintily between your fingers. His eyes are drawn to the imprint of your lips on the filter.

Your father’s hatred of Strabo Plinth is an ill-kept secret. He’s of the belief no one from the Districts should be able to buy themselves a ticket to the Capitol. New money meant a chance at District citizens supplanting those from the Capitol. Worse yet, if the newcomers could accumulate enough wealth to buy their way in, what would be left for those of old money? Were they to become subservient to those who have only just learned how sweet it is to be drunk on money and power?

For your father, he knew the Plinths were a rarity. But setting such a precedent is dangerous and must be culled before it begins to infect those stupid enough to think they are of the same caliber as those in the Capitol.

Your father is old-fashioned to a detrimental fault. The bastard.

Coriolanus urges you on with a slight jerk of his head. His fingers loosen on the railing.

“We both get to piss off my dad. I’d say that’s worth more than the salary Mr. Plinth is giving me,” you say, grinning at him. “‘Sides, Mr. Plinth is a decent boss. I have to work twice as hard but it’s better than being fired for answering a question wrong.”

“Your father did that?” Coriolanus asks. He’s not aghast as most are when you reveal that little tidbit of your dad. A frigid curiosity coats his voice. The wheels in his head are turning and not in your favor most likely.

You count on your fingers. “Yeah. Six times.” Definitely a Father of the Year candidate.

Most people don’t know this. He told everyone you wished to have multiple industries under your belt before you came back to the family company. You scoff internally at the memory. As if you of all people need the resume boost.

“I should probably sell his secrets to Mr. Plinth.”

Coriolanus shakes his head. “Your dad would retaliate until nothing is left of Strabo.”

“He could cripple him if he wanted,” you agree. Your father had the means in which to take Mr. Plinth down from the inside if he so wished. But it would be meaningless if your father had to orchestrate his downfall rather than let Mr. Plinth’s luck run out. “But that’s not fun for my dad.”

“Your dad is not nearly as clever as you think.” It’s said as the fact it is. Your father likes the idea of being clever but he is much like a toddler who has found out they can lie. You know of it but you didn’t think Coriolanus knew your father well enough to analyze him to such a degree.

Now you turn to him fully. He’s angled his body towards you this whole time so he’s already facing you. “You’ve met him,” you realize. And then, “Mr. Plinth was okay with that?”

He laughs patronizingly. “He’s like a father to me but he’s not my father. And your father has some good ideas sometimes.” His tongue presses against the back of his teeth, a sarcastic leaving him. “He’s also one of our biggest donors so.” Coriolanus shrugs in a what-can-you-do manner.

It is true your father loves the Hunger Games. Every year he hosts a watch party and celebrates each brutal kill with glee. Once the Games took off in popularity, your father funneled money into the development of the Gamemaker apprentices. The more brutal the Games the better in his eyes. Thankfully, most of the Capitol has a limit to what they can withstand in the name of entertainment.

You take a drag. The smoke curls into your lungs, blanketing the awkwardness beginning to cement itself within you as Coriolanus lingers. Surely he has better things to do than entertain you. Many came to this dinner in the hopes they could have a chance at gaining Corionlanus’ attention even if for just a moment.

He intercepts your cigarette when you go to take another drag. The cloying scent of roses mixes in with the ashy smell of smoke. It isn’t as unpleasant as one might think.

You almost ask if he smokes, being under the belief he thinks it below his station, when you catch how his lips wrap around the filter. He’s placed his mouth perfectly over the stain of your lips.

A knot forms in your stomach.

“Did you win any bets?” he asks. To his credit, he sounds genuinely interested to hear your answer.

You watch as Coriolanus breathes in the cigarette. The corners of his mouth twitch when it stings and you look to the sky as a mercy. The smoke billows out until it dulls the stars above. “No, I don’t usually bet. Did you?”

A shadow of your lipstick darkens the center of his lips.“No. It’s considered a conflict of interest,” he says. It’s crossed your mind a couple of times whether or not the Gamemakers rig the Games for a specific outcome. His response neither confirms nor denies your suspicions. “You don’t bet?”

“I’m an unlucky person,” you say simply.

He drops his voice as if to let you in on a secret. Handing you the cigarette, he says, “I’m no fortune teller but I can say it is a good choice to root for District 1. Usually.”

“No way? Are you allowed to tell me this?”

Your jaw drops dramatically. But Coriolanus doesn’t know you and he thinks you’re serious for a brief flash of discomfort crosses his face at having to explain to you how the Districts are split in strength. You almost let him but decide to save yourself the condescending lecture.

You drop the scandalized look to Coriolanus’ relief. “I’ve never won anything when it came to luck and I would really prefer not to try my chances with a tribute,” you say. “It also makes watching the Games with others really annoying.”

His expression clears. “Sore loser?” he prods, mostly teasing but partly surprised.

“The sorest,” you confirm. You stub the butt of the cigarette into your wrist. The pain barely registers. “Sometimes, it’s hard to watch the Games all the way through,” you muse. The nicotine is making your head fuzzy.

“Is it not entertaining enough for you?” Coriolanus asks. The press of his lips is cordial but the unnatural tilt of his head unnerves you.

You consider how you will answer. As Coriolanus is a part of the Gamemakers, you are sure he has a vested interest in any critiques you may have. In the same breath, he might think you rebellious for not finding the Capitol’s favorite past time as enjoyable as it is supposed to be. Your life is not yet so boring you find a thrill in watching children kill each other.

“No. I just have a bad attention span,” you say, glancing at him. The tension leaks from his face. “You guys should implement a highlight reel at the end of each night.” You don’t know how anyone spends all day with the Games as their background noise but there have been stranger things. When you worked for your dad, lunches were spent discussing strategies the tributes should be utilizing as if survival wasn’t paramount. You’ll never forget the boos around the office when the 14th games ended with a singular spear to the heart.

“He couldn’t have bludgeoned him? The axe was right there.”

Coriolanus hums, interested. “That could work.” His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, disrupting the lipstick you’ve left behind. “It might change the minds of who some people will bet for. Keep some of the tributes fresh in their minds.”

You have to laugh. Of course everything ties back to this. Without sponsors and bettings, the Games can only go so far. Coriolanus certainly found his niche. But even by victors are victories undone.

“You know what? Just for you, I’ll bet on a tribute for the next Games,” you say, dragging your words out playfully.

He smiles, ducking his head a bit. It would be endearing if you didn’t find him so starved of something only he knew. Hunger is never a good look on anyone. “You’ll have to let me know the outcome.”

“Mm, I’ll make sure to ring Dr. Gaul.”

“Or,” and he sidles up next to you, “You could ring me directly.”

It will be much too awkward to reject Coriolanus as he expectantly hands you his phone. You type in your number and he calls you the second the contact saves. Your phone vibrates against your thigh. The intensity in his too blue eyes doesn’t lessen until you bring out your phone to show you received his call.

Your phone feels heavier with the addition to your contact list. Never did you think you’d get Coriolanus Snow’s number.

Maybe you’ll give it to Casiphia for the right price.

“You didn’t call.”

Your nearly crack your pen between your teeth. Your manager didn’t notice the discrepancy in the output of equipment in one of the smaller producer buildings and you have been trying to trace where the excess could have gone. The numbers are still running in your head when you look up to see Coriolanus in front of your desk.

There’s a crease between his brows despite the pleasant smile on his face. It takes you a too long second to understand what he is referencing.

“Thought the offer was for the next Games?” you say, raising your eyebrows.

His smile strains. “Well, I thought you’d want to discuss strategy.”

“Wouldn’t that be considered a conflict of interest?”

“Mm. You can take it as picking the mind of a strategist rather than a Gamemaker.”

“Would that hold up in court?”

At this, Coriolanus laughs. “Ah, maybe you’re right. Especially considering I passed your idea along to the Head Gamemaker and he might think I’m trying to reward you.”

You click your pen. “What idea?” Were cigarettes going to be used in the donation system for the next Games?

Coriolanus gives you a long look, a trace of surprised irritation sparking in his eyes. “The highlight reel. It makes sense for us to upload one rather than assume the viewers will seek out whatever they missed. People are busy.” He nods at your bare desk. “Like you.”

It is almost lunch time and you have finished all of your work for the day. Which is why you’ve taken to look over Criston’s work. Family connections can get you far but they cannot make you a responsible nor smart worker.

You place your chin on your fist. “I’m glad you recognize how hard of a worker I am.” You wink at him. “Be sure to pass that on to Mr. Plinth.”

“Where would he be without you?” Coriolanus teases. His mouth opens to say something else but he’s interrupted by the sound of his name.

“Coryo!”

Mr. Plinth’s normally emotionless voice warms at the arrival of his pseudo-son. He hugs Coriolanus briefly, hand splayed against his back. Coriolanus returns the hug albeit stiffly.

You avert your gaze and go back to the report in front of you. The amount of red marks is alarming and with Mr. Plinth so close, you flip over the page. You brace your elbow on the papers and wait for them to leave.

“Join us.”

Mr. Plinth shoots Coriolanus a strange frown but Coriolanus ignores him and gestures to you.

“You’re done for the day aren’t you?”

You click your pen. Coriolanus is an odd man. His questions are never framed as questions. “I would hate to impose,” you decline, waving your hand.

“You wouldn’t be imposing.”

You look to Mr. Plinth for help. But his eyes are not on you. His frown has gotten deeper, pulling his brows forward until they’re nearly touching. He’s looking at Coriolanus as if he’s never seen him before.

“It isn’t a bother,” Mr. Plinth says after a moment. “Come.”

And left with no other choice, you take Coriolanus’ proffered hand and follow him out of the building. It may be an insensitive comparison but you liken this to how the tributes feel when they are first released into the arena.

Certainty echoes your steps but it’s anyone’s guess as to what your body is telling you you are certain about.

Lunch is not the awkward affair you assumed it will be.

Coriolanus makes sure to loop you into his conversations with Mr. Plinth. And Mr. Plinth finds a way to brag about Coriolanus any chance he gets. It’s sweet except for how grief-stricken it leaves Mr. Plinth.

“You know, I’m so proud of Coriolanus.”

You look up from your plate. Mr. Plinth has his fingers and thumb pressed against the corners of his mouth. He’s tired, gaunt shadows making him look older. “To come as far as he has all on his own is incredible.”

You chance a quick peek at Coriolanus. Neither pride nor embarrassment wash over his expression. He continues eating as if Mr. Plinth isn’t doling out praise.

“I couldn’t have done it without you and Mrs. Plinth helping me out,” Coriolanus says modestly. “Tigris too.”

The afterthought of his cousin settles uncomfortably in your ears. As if the admission is a sore spot for him, one he hasn’t learned to stop pressing.

Mr. Plinth waves away his words. “You were the top of your class long before we were involved. Not to mention the—“ Here is where his voice cracks. You avert your eyes, opting to push your food around on the plate as he gathers himself. He is a stoic man but memories of Sejanus disarm him. It’s painful to look at grief to begin with but the moments when you’re reminded that Mr. Plinth was once a father who loved his son above all, you can only suck in a breath and hope your own loss doesn’t show.

“It is hard to be displeased with someone like Coriolanus,” you interrupt gently. “He’s all the professors and students talked about at the University.”

The Snow name was tattered but now, hardly anyone can remember a time when the name Coriolanus Snow wasn’t revered. It isn’t a surprise he was a favorite amongst many.

“Did they?” Coriolanus looks amused at the revelation but unsurprised.

You spear a potato. “Mm hmm. Your projects were always our examples. Dr. Gaul could do nothing but laude you.” You were infinitely pleased to find out about her passing last year. Good riddance.

“She was an excessive woman,” Coriolanus says politely.

You make a face. “I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use.”

“Oh? You weren’t a fan?”

Mr. Plinth frowns. “Didn’t she try to recruit you?”

You shudder at the reminder. Her lab is something you wish you could scrub from your brain. “Yeah but it was courtesy. I said no. Clearly.”

Coriolanus shakes his head, rubbing his hands on his napkin. “It wasn’t courtesy. It was your essay.”

You turn to him. You knew he was directly beneath her but for Coriolanus to be vetting her future apprentices as well…it startles you to find out how integral he was to this woman so early on in his career. “She told you?”

Coriolanus dips his chin. “I’m the one who read it and gave it to her.”

“Wow, she had someone like you doing her grunt work. That’s impressive.”

Irritation clenches his jaw before he forcefully relaxes. “I was impressed by it. While not a unique understanding of the Games, you were insightful.”

Mr. Plinth looks lost and you do not wish to clear the confusion on his face. Your essay was meant to be seen by the most hateful woman in Panem and then to be discarded.

You take a sip of your water. Noticeably, none of you have ordered any alcohol. “You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you say without shyness. “If I had known you were reading it, I definitely would’ve written something else.”

“Like?” Coriolanus presses.

“Probably more of a focus on the Games’ mechanics themselves rather than the tributes. Oh, and I would’ve definitely read it over another time because admittedly, I did not edit the essay before I turned it in.”

“Mm but that wouldn’t have been as good of an essay,” Coriolanus chides. His eyes are bright. “But it doesn’t matter. You didn’t take the apprenticeship.”

You laugh. “I would’ve been ill suited so I thought I’d save you guys the grief of firing me.”

“Lucky us,” Mr. Plinth mutters.

“You’re telling me you didn’t enjoy cussing my father out when you hired me?” you ask him in disbelief.

He rolls the memory in his head then nods. “It was a perk,” he admits.

“It all worked out then, didn’t it?” you say, satisfied.

Coriolanus stares at you and says with a tight smile, “That it did.”

Eventually, Mr. Plinth is called in and leaves Coriolanus and you to enjoy the rest of lunch. The heaviness in the air dissipates by his departure. But it is quickly leveled with how off kilter Coriolanus makes you feel.

“We should head out,” you say. As much as it pains you to decline dessert, you know it is for the best. Continuing to scramble to find things to talk about with Coriolanus will make your head explode.

He smooths his hands over his slacks. “I’ll call a driver.”

Coriolanus helps you out of your chair. His hand rests on the small of your back. He’s much larger than you realize and the expanse of his palm makes your stomach flip. He leads you out the door, sliding that same palm to curl his fingers around your hip. The casual intimacy makes you sick.

The two of you are waiting outside for a minute before a dreadful downpour begins. Rain blurs your vision almost instantaneously and you struggle to blink them away. You take your phone out to look at the weather app.

“Ugh, it’s going to rain all night. There’s no—” You cut yourself off as you look up.

Coriolanus stops shielding himself to offer his arms as a pseudo-umbrella over you. The rain cascades from his hair to drip onto his suit. The ends of his hair are beginning to curl and you have the sudden sinking feeling that you find him hotter when disheveled.

“Oh, there’s the car,” he says, tugging you close to him. You’re too frazzled by your revelation to escape his hold and let him drag you into the car. Your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin. Already a chill begins to cling to you.

“My house is closer,” Coriolanus says. Without waiting, he tells the driver to reroute.

“Ah, my place is actually right around—”

The driver takes the opposite turn.

“Oh.”

Coriolanus puts his hand to your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

You shake it off. “I’m fine, I think. What about you?”

Undeterred, he brings your hand to his forehead, flatting his one over yours. “Do I feel warm?”

His eyes are too blue, you think. The sort an apex predator has.

“A little bit,” you croak but you don’t know if it’s because of your blood heating or because Coriolanus is actually beginning to feel the affects of his rain soaked clothes.

Thankfully, you arrive at his house and are able to scramble out of the car before he can offer his help. There is a butler waiting outside, warmed towels prepared as soon as you get to the door.

There’s a flurry of movement as the maids lead you to a room and have you strip off your soggy clothes. You don’t realize just how severely the wet clothes sapped you of your warmth until you’re able to slip into something warm and dry. The maids help to dry your hair, fussing over you until you can feel the blood circulating in the tips of your fingers again.

It takes you a few minutes to convince the maids you are fine before they take you to the living room. Coriolanus has changed as well, though the dip in his linen shirt has you looking everywhere but at his chest.

“Thank you,” you say to one of the maids when she straightens your shirt. She nods and quickly leaves.

Glancing down at yourself, you can’t believe Coriolanus gives you one of his sleeping shirts. You can’t imagine him in something so informal. The soft cotton shorts are Tigris’ you assume but they’re strangely the perfect fit.

It feels wrong to have on something so casual in front of Coriolanus. An uncomfortable intimacy in the action.

You pick at the thinning edge as he putters around the room for the remote. A random drama lights up the screen and you recognize it as the penultimate episode of the one you usually keep in the background whenever you’re reading.

The maid drops off the tea. She won’t meet your eyes and scuttles away as soon as Coriolanus crosses the room to retrieve it from the table. He pours the scalding liquid into the tea cup and adds the correct amount of sugar to your taste. He brings it over to you. His hand darts out to block yours when it looks like the tea will spillover but it manages to stay contained.

You want to laugh. He took a page out of your playbook. You did the same for Mr. Plinth years ago when he visited your family’s home to make nice with your father. He hated how sweet you were because it cost him the mistake of thinking your father might be reasonable.

“Thanks,” you say, accepting the tea cup. It’s hot enough the handle is warm. The saucer nearly scalds your skin.

He pours his own cup before joining you. His thigh is pressed against yours but he keeps his arms to himself. You try to shift to the side but Coriolanus spreads his legs out.

“I wasn’t expecting the rain to be so bad,” he says. He’s still drying his hair with a towel and you can see the curls beginning to dry on his hairline. The strands are shiny under the light and look soft to the touch.

You shove your hand underneath your thigh. You take a deep drink from your cup, uncaring of how the liquid practically burns your throat. “It hasn’t rained like this in a while, huh?”

“Are you warm enough?” he asks. His head turns as if to snap at a maid to bring in another blanket but you cut him off.

“I’m fine. The tea is helping.”

He scrutinizes you but accepts your refusal. “Let me know if you start to feel sick.”

“I’ll be fine! The rain can’t get you sick anyway.”

He uses the back of his hand against your forehead again. His hand is comfortably cool against your skin. “It certainly doesn’t help.”

You yawn. Your eyes water from the strength of it and you try to blink away your sudden tiredness. “I just need a couple of minutes and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Coriolanus hums. “There’s no rush. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

His face swims in your vision. The blues of his eyes are all you’re able to make out with pinpoint accuracy before you fall asleep.

You wake up with bleary eyes. A weight is on your shoulder and fine hair tickles your cheek. When you fail to recognize the room, embarrassed panic wells up inside of you. You shoot off the couch, nearly tangling yourself with the blanket placed over you.

Coriolanus jumps at your sudden movement. His leaned over body topples onto the couch in your absence. He says your name, bewildered.

“I am so sorry,” you say, horrified. You can’t believe you fell asleep on his couch. “I must’ve been more tired than I thought. Doing nothing really takes a lot out of you, huh?” You try to laugh. It’s strained. Ugh, what an impression to leave. “I should head out.”

“You can stay the night,” Coriolanus blurts out. His hair is in disarray and there’s a crease mark across his cheek.

“I’ve already overstayed my welcome. Thank you for letting me,” you pause. “Um. Sleep. And drool all over your very fancy cushions. And for the shirt. I’ll make sure to wash it.”

“It’s no bother,” he says faintly. His hand is reached out as if to grab you back but then he curls in his fingers and brings his arm to his side. “But at least stay for dinner. Grandma’am has already seen you and she won’t take no as an answer.”

As if summoned by the mere mention of her name, his grandmother comes into the room. She’s a rush of words and has you following her into the dining room with nary a peep from you. Twenty seconds in her presence and you are already exhausted.

You give Coriolanus a pleading look but all he does is shrug. He leans down until his lips brush against your ear. “Best to go along with what she wants.”

You go to pinch him but your arm protests. Grimacing, you adjust your hand until the ache evaporates. You must have slept on your hand wrong if your wrist is this sore.

The twinging pain doesn’t disappear until a few days later.

Somehow, Coriolanus manages to be wherever you are.

You wonder if he has a job. And then you wonder if Gamemaking is as rigorous as they like you to believe if Coriolanus is able to find himself haunting your routine.

“Does it really make that much of a difference?” Coriolanus asks.

You turn the apple in your hand. It’s fragrant but the fruit caves in when you apply the littlest amount of pressure. It won’t do. “Probably not. But to me it does,” you ask, putting the apple down.

He’s carrying the rest of the ingredients. It bothers him but he has to tolerate it. He’s the one who insisted on joining you when he ran into you in front of the grocery store. You almost turned on your heel when he called out to you. It is unnatural to see Coriolanus grocery shopping for himself. It is beneath him.

“Tigris was asking if you’d come to dinner tonight.”

Imperceptibly, your fingers pause as you pick a different apple. The past few weeks, you have found yourself eating dinner at the Snow home more often than not. Coriolanus has a way of forcing your hand. Your dormant social etiquette skills resurface when his expectant eyes turn to you. You can hear your father’s voice in the back of your head berating you for letting the thought of saying no cross your mind when it comes to Coriolanus.

But enough is enough. It feels as if Coriolanus is in your peripheral vision at all times, waiting for a misstep to take advantage of.

“I can’t.”

You take the rest of your groceries from Coriolanus, a meager supply since you are making an apple pie. Or tart. Or galette. You haven’t decided yet and you do not want input from Coriolanus either.

“Do you have other plans?” he asks, easily matching your pace as you head to the cashier.

It’s a quick transaction with minimal pleasantries. Usually, you’d be glad for it but right now, you wish the cashier had drawn you into some inane conversation to keep Coriolanus from breathing down your neck as he is.

“Yeah.”

He fights to keep his voice casual as he says, “With who?”

It is so like him to think your rejection must be contingent on something else rather than you do not wish to spend anymore unnecessary time with him.

You can’t lie because Coriolanus knows your friends. With the stars aligning to bring Coriolanus into every facet of your life, he has joined a few impromptu lunches, promptly charming your friends into asking you to bring Coriolanus around.

“No one,” you answer honestly. The truth revolts in your mouth, sticking to the roof.

“Then I’ll eat dinner with you. Tigris won’t miss us too much,” Coriolanus decides. He takes the bags from you as he speaks, holding them with one hand. The childish urge to tug the bags back eats at you.

His words register. Ice begins to turn your blood into shards underneath your skin. You are hyper aware of how every nerve in your body frays at the thought of Coriolanus in your home. You have managed to avoid letting him visit through a myriad of excuses. Coriolanus’ favorite one is that you prefer his home over most places, chest puffing a bit in pride at your exuberant insistence at spending time there.

“I think you should eat with Tigris. It has been a while since she’s seen you,” you say. You hope you don’t sound as panicked as you feel.

“I see her all the time, she won’t mind,” he dismisses.

Coriolanus takes a left. With no bags to keep you steady, you dig your fingers into the meat of your palms. You shouldn’t be surprised he knows were you live but it horrifies you all the same.

“You don’t have to Coriolanus. I’ll be fine on my own. You don’t need to force yourself,” you say as you two stand in front of your gate. You don’t want to type in the code nor scan your eyes in front of him.

He shifts the bags to his other hand. “I’m not forcing myself.”

You’re forcing me.

You hesitantly go on your tiptoes to scan your eyes and then rapidly press the numbers of your code on the touchpad. Coriolanus doesn’t hide that he’s watching, taking in and memorizing one of your layers of safety.

Coriolanus isn’t a bad guy. He’s charming and quick-witted to an extent. He’s also guarded and highly suspicious despite how friendly most people perceive him to be. You assume he likes your honesty and your lack of ambition when it comes to Capitol society. You have no desire to win over allies with the name backing you so you are free to flit in and out as you please. You can’t see why else he’d want to be your friend.

He is not a spineless man but he is unassuming. He has a gift for making other’s believe they think him as wonderful as he is because that is simply who Coriolanus Snow is and not what he has to consciously slip into. You have been around men like him your whole life. You have no more need for the cutthroat.

It feels like a concession when Coriolanus steps into your home. He takes off his shoes, taking it in. You aren’t embarrassed but it certainly pales in comparison to the opulence of the Snow home.

His mouth rounds out to say the polite thing. You stop him. “Don’t.”

“I was just going to say you did a good job,” Coriolanus defends innocently but the curl at the edge of his lips betrays him. “It’s so minimalistic.” He says it like a slur which is likely considering how disdainful Coriolanus is at covert shows of wealth.

“I love how your glasses are—” He taps the side of the stray glass on top of your foyer table. It rings muddily. “So rustic.”

“I never took you for annoying,” you say, snatching the glass from the table. You’re lucky he didn’t catch the minor crack on the rim.

He follows you into the kitchen. His steps falter as he notices how cold your home is. There are no photos outside of the ones the frames came with. Your walls are bare of any personal touches and the decorations are straight from a catalogue.

“You don’t take me for anything,” Coriolanus says. He’s factual and bland but a hurt anger belies the facade.

The naked honesty punctures something in your gut. Guilt seeps into the wound like the beginning of an infection. “I don’t know what you mean,” you evade, turning to unpack the groceries he’s placed on the dining table.

An apple begins to roll off of the table but Coriolanus catches it. He places it next to your hand, warmth emanating off of his chest and to your back.

“I take you for exactly as you are.”

Something scratches at the edges of your conscious, a misstep you are overlooking. You have treaded too far but you do not when you took the one step too many.

“I’m a bad friend to have Coriolanus,” you say finally. You turn, a little surprised at how he’s crowded into you. He’s dressed more casually than you’ve ever seen him and it bothers you to think it doesn’t suit him. Coriolanus is not a casual man and the attempt at being one is duplicitous. “I can’t give you what you want.”

The companionship Coriolanus thinks he will receive from you doesn’t exist. Something went wrong with you along the way. Your broken heart was forced to heal itself around the cracks, suturing the wounds left by your father with what was left of your rotted love. You have nothing to give that Coriolanus can repurpose into something he needs.

He smiles at you indulgently. “Maybe not now, but I know eventually you will.”

“You’re up for a promotion.”

Mr. Plinth straightens the papers in front of him with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. He is mirthless as he stares at you. You were half-convinced you were to be fired if it was Mr. Plinth calling you in but a promotion? Criston should be the one informing you of a potential jump in the hierarchy. He is your direct supervisor after all.

“You’d be working as a VP of this branch.”

You straighten your already straight back. Mr. Plinth is very begrudging in his tolerance of you. You are the needed parts of your father, having the ruthlessness and savviness needed for business, but the rest of you is as different as can be. Mr. Plinth can’t fault you for your father’s sins try as he might and so, a reluctant liking of you is what his pride can afford. But even that allowance won’t allow you to rise the ranks like this.

You have only been a senior analyst for three months. You still require oversight and handholding on the bigger projects. You are nowhere near where you need to be to take on a role like this.

“Can I decline?”

Mr. Plinth nods. “You can.”

“Then I’ll decline.” You wipe your hands off on your skirt, ready to get up from the chair when Mr. Plinth leans back in his cushioned seat, hands resting on his stomach.

“So we’ll be going with the lateral move then,” Mr. Plinth decides.

“What?”

“I know you purposefully underperform,” he says, unamused. “And while it is your choice to do so, it is unfortunately out of my hands to keep turning a blind eye to it.”

“You’re the boss, how is it out of your hands?” you gape. Is it really such a crime to want to do an easy job for a cushioned pay and not want to move up the ladder? At his sour mouth, you add on, “Mr. Plinth.”

He sucks on his teeth, giving you a closed mouth smile. “I looked over Criston’s work.” Your cheek twitches. Oh no. “And it was one thing to see how much of a fucking idiot he is.” Mr. Plinth taps his fingers against his stomach. “But I come to find out you were the one saving his ass. You are doing him no favors by fixing his work behind his back.”

He spreads his hands out. “So now, here we are. You have clearly outgrown your role as senior analyst but do not wish to advance your career.”

It’s uncomfortable how easily Mr. Plinth can read you. You’d rather be bored at work than working yourself to the bone. While a fucking dumbass who was only hired based off of his name alone, Criston is swamped with a workload you wouldn’t touch for double your salary. Triple might sway you but not too much.

“I can’t force you to take a promotion, but it also pains me to see you waste away in such an unfulfilling role.”

You mouth the word ‘pains’. You’re about to tease him when Mr. Plinth leans forward.

“You’re smart. Smarter than your father gives you credit for,” he says without pride. Something haunted hangs in his face, deepening the lines around his eyes. “And I know he is not grooming you as his successor.”

Your tongue pushes against the back of your molars as you try not to laugh. Is your family really so obvious to those outside of it? That sick bastard wasn’t going to give you a dime of his fortune. A daughter was not in the cards and yet a daughter was what he was dealt. Knowing your father, he’s already written his younger brother into the will as his sole beneficiary. If your father was the man he wanted to believe he was, he’d donate his money. Alas, he cannot stand the thought of his fortune going to anyone but blood so to your greedy uncle it must go.

“Do you really want to give him the satisfaction of proving him right?”

You hate that you are swayed by such a cliche ply for spitefulness. But you are a human being before you are a dutiful daughter so the choice is out of your hands.

You regret not arguing with Mr. Plinth.

He didn’t let you know the lateral move was working under Coriolanus.

“You’re early,” he says when he notices your gobsmacked form outside of his office. Surprise doesn’t color his tone.

Mr. Plinth made it seem as if he was doing you a favor for your growth but it turns out, it is a favor to Coriolanus. Perhaps he’s noticed his heir’s inclination towards you.

Fuck, you hate politics.

“Wanted to make a good impression,” you say, holding your binder closer to your chest.

“You’ve certainly made one on me.”

“Is that why you asked for Mr. Plinth to transfer me?” Your words are sharp. You don’t appreciate being played to Coriolanus’ whims.

Coriolanus laughs. It leans closer to a scoff but you decide to be generous. “You were decaying working there. You looked like you wanted to kill yourself.”

“I always look like that.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “You’re actually upset.”

You cross your arms over your chest. Coriolanus’ eyes drift to how your cleavage pushes up. Well, at least he isn’t the doll you have the inkling he is. You sigh, setting your things atop your desk. Inside of Coriolanus’ office.

Technically, you are now a representative of Plinth’s Munitions with the intentions of helping advance the technology used in the Games. Mr. Plinth aims to move his focus from weaponry and investing into new Capitol technology to make the Games bigger and grander. Thanks to Coriolanus, the Games newfound popularity has created an entirely new sector to take advantage of.

“I’ve never been upset in my life,” you say flatly.

He doesn’t take your shit. “I thought you’d be—you’d be happy.”

“Coriolanus, the whole point of me working at Plinth’s was to separate myself from my father. And now, I’ve lost most of my credibility because people are going to think I asked you to go out on a limb for me and convince Mr. Plinth to give me this position.” You bite your cheek and then shake your head. “Look. I’m not upset. Not really.”

The next family dinner will be insufferable. Your father will get on his usual soapbox of you relying on others instead of yourself unlike him, the self-made billionaire who didn’t care who he crushed to get to the top.

“Is it so bad to use the connections you have? Why suffer when you are presented with an easier path? There’s nothing wrong with what you do as long as the ends justify the means.” This might be the first time you’ve seen genuine confusion cross his face.

Coriolanus never ceases to surprise you. It’s a quiet rumbling now but you heard of his family’s poverty before the Plinth’s saved the Snows. An unfortunate circumstance Coriolanus was luckily able to capitalize on. The reminder quiets your tongue. You’d do anything for your pride, even break your own heart.

But perhaps it is foolish to do things the way you believe will garner you the most respect when even the littlest of things can crumble said respect in an instant.

“We’re here now so it doesn’t matter,” you say with a careless shrug. “What do you need me to do first?”

Coriolanus considers you and how your teeth retract as you for once adhere to the lesson of not biting the hand that feeds you.

“Stay by my side.”

“Aren’t you Snow’s girl?”

You’re in the midst of searching for more information on nut allergies. You ate an exorbitant amount of baklava the night before and you fear the itchiness in your throat might be related.

mild vs severe nut all

Your typing is interrupted when a voice gets uncomfortably close to your ear.

“You’re Snow’s girl, right?”

You jerk away from the waft of breath. “What?”

A man with a shit-eating smile has his hand braced against your desk and he’s leaned down to speak quietly to you. “You’re Coriolanus’.”

The certainty in his voice pisses you off but asking for clarification will only serve to prove whatever point he’s making.

“Is there something you need?”

“Not particularly. I was hoping Mr. Snow would be in.” He looks around the office and whistles. “Fancy place. Must be nice.”

The scratching in your throat has abided. Maybe stupidity is the cure for a nut allergy.

“Do you guys ever…?”

You erase your search, not looking at him. “Hmm?”

His clothes rustle as he shifts his weight. “You know. I mean, why else would Mr. Snow keep you in his office?”

Your head snaps up. “Keep me?”

“Oh, don’t be so coy.”

The sound of your name has the both of you turning at the needed interruption.

“Would you like to join me for lunch?”

Coriolanus ignores the man. He stands by the entryway patiently. Your words are caught in your throat at the question. You were only able to put off lunches with Coriolanus for so long before he made them mandatory so the question is a dismissal.

“Mr. Snow! It’s so nice to see you! I was hoping—”

Coriolanus holds his hand out to you. “I have other matters to attend to.”

The man’s mouth audibly shuts. “Your secretary.” And he looks at you. You keep your expression neutral. “Said you had some time in between—”

“I don’t,” Coriolanus says coolly. He crooks his fingers up and you take his hand. When you go to drop it, he instead intertwines your fingers together. To avoid causing a scene, you let him but you squeeze his fingers until you feel the bones move.

He doesn’t react. Asshole can’t even give you the satisfaction.

You usually take lunch with Coriolanus in his office but now he leads you down a back hallway. His steps are controlled but his strides are long and you hurry to keep pace.

“Who was that?”

A muscle in his cheek twitches. “One of Aristotle’s council.”

You blink. After Coriolanus, Aristotle Cramus is the most popular candidate for the presidency but the margin between the two is quite large. Coriolanus hasn’t officially announced his campaign but it is all but assumed in the Capitol.

He uses his back to push open a door which leads into the building’s restaurant. The bustling sounds of the lunch rush soothes you and your shoulders loosen.

An Avox ushers the two of you to a prepared table. Your usual lunches are already placed atop.

“Sorry I was late,” he says, wincing. He undoes the napkin and places it on his lap. “The testing presented more difficulties than anticipated.”

“It’s fine. What are you guys testing this time?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Trackers,” he answer shortly.

“Trackers?” you repeat.

He cuts into his steak. His gaze flicks to the scar on your wrist from the first night you met him. It takes a second to drag his attention from the burn mark and to your questioning eyes. “It’s in the development stage but so far, it has been a success.”

“Why would the tributes need trackers if they are in the arena? Isn’t the whole point of the arena to keep them contained?”

Coriolanus chews before speaking. “There were some issues with previous tributes trying to escape before the Games. Better to be cautious than naive.”

“Are they noticeable?”

“Hm?”

“The trackers.”

He smiles to himself. “Not so far.”

“Will the arena get bigger then? Later on obviously because I’m sure it’ll take some time before you guys can figure out how to have the cameras follow the tributes,” you say, twirling your fork in your pasta. If Coriolanus can manage this, you think his presidency will be all but confirmed by the next Games. “You’re running for president during the next cycle, right?”

He nods. “I have two years until I’ll have to make an official announcement.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t think you need an official announcement,” you say, not unkindly. He’s the favorite. His youth is his only fault and that is temporary. “Livia’s already starting her campaign as the future Mrs. President Snow.”

Coriolanus cuts you an unamused look. It’s more a thinning of his lips and a narrowing of his eyes but you give him credit for keeping up appearances. “She is a choice.”

“A good choice,” you say. “Especially if you are planning on being married before your presidency.”

“I am,” he says slowly. “And I have a better choice in mind.”

Despite your best efforts, Coriolanus has intertwined himself into your life. And you like to think you may know him better than most at this point but perhaps you do not if there is someone he has his eye on. You take a bite from your noodles. His twenty four hours must vary drastically from your twenty four hours.

There are too many potential candidates to narrow down anything. The man from earlier’s words echo in your mind but you ignore them.

Coriolanus stops eating. “I’m actually thinking of announcing our engagement soon.”

You’re taken aback. “You’ve already proposed?”

Coriolanus grins. The hunger he’s always carried within seems sated for once. “Not quite.”

He doesn’t elaborate and you don’t ask. May the odds be ever in that poor girl’s favor.

Work dinners are such a bore.

You’ve managed to avoid most of them but Coriolanus showed up at your house this time. He bequeathed you a bouquet of blood red roses, making a smart quip of bringing some color into your home. The sickly sweet scent of them lingers in your nose despite the long journey to the restaurant. You’re overdressed by Coriolanus’ insistence but as you step into the restaurant, you think you may have been wrong about this being a simple work dinner.

Your suspicions are further proved when you are led to private room and inside are the upper echelon of the Capitol.

“Coriolanus,” you whisper urgently. “What are we doing here?”

He speaks out of the corner of his mouth. “You’ll see.”

Coriolanus flits off to some of his classmates, faces you only recognize because of their prominence in politics. He melds easily into their conversation, laughing in a way that could be considered for Coriolanus when one jerks his head in your direction.

You give a hesitate wave when multiple sets of eyes turn to you, skin prickling at the knowing smiles on their faces.

An excited call of your name grabs your attention.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Nerina gushes. “You have to catch me up on everything.”

You haven’t seen her since you graduated the University and you struggle to remember if you spoke more than three words to her during your time there. All you know of her is she married a wealthy business tycoon since graduation and dabbled in daytime television whenever the news cycle was slow.

Her exclamation draws more people to you. Sweat dampens the back of your neck as you field the increasing amount of questions directed your way. You smile politely and nod intently at the right moments. When not talking about themselves, most ask you about Coriolanus and how exciting it must be to work alongside him. There are a few pointed comments but you dismiss them with ease, laughing away the probing. Your mind is running a million miles per second. The constant repetition of Coriolanus’ name becomes harder and harder to listen to.

With a quick glance around the room, you count how many political figures you can name. When it becomes more than your two hands can handle, you start to relax. Perhaps Coriolanus is announcing his official bid for the presidency. It’s a curious thing if he’s brought you along as moral support.

The Plinth’s are noticeably absent which causes a crease in your forehead.

You aren’t able to dwell too long on their absence for Coriolanus makes his way back to your side. Nerina titters when he touches your elbow and motions towards the table. His hand hovers over the small of your back as you walk over and take your seat, thanking him quietly for pulling your chair out.

Nerina makes sure to sit across from you and smirks when Coriolanus sits beside you.

You cross your thigh over the other. The man diagonal from you, Dohyun you believe, lights up when you look his way.

“You have any updates for us, Coriolanus?”

Coriolanus settles back in his chair. “About the Games?” he says playfully. The exchange of amused looks between the men has the hair on the back of your neck raising.

Dohyun chuckles. “Why not?” he says, drinking some champagne. “We’d all love to hear about it.”

Nerina wants to say something. She keeps trying to meet your eyes but whenever you give in and look at her, there is a pinch in between her brows and huffy breaths leave her.

His hand is placed on your thigh. You don’t register the blatant dismissal of propriety at first because it is inconceivable.

“We’re hoping to make this the most interesting Games yet,” Coriolanus says with a smile. He gives you a pointed look as he squeezes you. The angle of his arm makes it obvious to anyone looking where his hand lies.

Nerina can’t look away.

“Must be nice for the two of you to work together,” Dohyun says. His eyes are gentle as he smiles.

“It’s definitely a perk,” Coriolanus agrees.

His fingers dig into your skin. “There’s never a boring day,” you say through gritted teeth. You try shaking off his hand but Coriolanus doesn’t give in.

“Actually, I asked you all to come here today to announce something special.” His hand rests on your waist. Coriolanus pulls you closer, practically onto his lap. His palm is hot over the fabric of your dress. You look up at him, alarmed at the possessive hold but trying your best to hide it. “We’re engaged.”

Your complacent smile is frozen.

And then there are cheers.

“I knew it!” Dohyun crows. “I told you guys he’d do it this month. Cough it up.” He holds his hand out as a couple of the guys begrudgingly dig into their wallets amongst their congratulations. No one is surprised. Delighted but not surprised.

Nausea sears your throat. Your ears ring so loudly you think Coriolanus must be able to hear it as well.

“You really dragged it out, huh?” Nerina says, lips curled over her teeth. You read her lips more than you hear her.

Your voice is stuck. A crushing fist clamps over your heart, tightening its hold until you fear you may collapse.

“You know how hard working my fiancée is,” Coriolanus defends lightly. “She wanted to make sure to tie up all loose ends before we made it official. Right?”

You don’t know what to do or say. So you default to what you have always been taught because at least you know how to play that game.

“You know me,” you say through gritted teeth. “Always wanting my ducks in a row.”

“I was so sure it would take another year,” Dante groans. “Mr. Plinth said he was stepping down soon but I didn’t know he meant this soon.”

The conversation devolves for a moment to discuss Mr. Plinth’s apparent retirement and you turn to Coriolanus. Your smile becomes vicious.

“What are you doing?” you hiss under your breath.

Coriolanus maintains his soft happiness. “Don’t act stupid, it’s unbecoming.”

“Cut the shit,” you threaten. “And get your hands off of me.”

He grins with his teeth on display. His canines seem unnaturally sharp as they press against his lip. Coriolanus leans in, uncaring of how the group quiets as he towers over you. A chill drags down your spine at the amusement in his eyes.

“Or what?” he mocks lightly. “Everyone here thinks you’ve got me wrapped around your pretty little finger. You think they’ll respond favorably if you deny me?”

You’ve forgotten before the Plinths, Coriolanus’ preferred choice of currency was social currency.

“Smile, Mrs. Snow.”

this fic is finished. there will never be a part 2. thanks!

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas

3K notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 7 months

Text

just watched shelter on amazon prime and now i’m back on my adrian greensmith shit again 😻

#adrian greensmith

5 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 8 months

Text

TSITP Rant **Spoilers**

tbh i think belly ending up with jeremiah in season 2 is a good thing. conrad is all she’s ever known, and she’s like 15-16 (idk), she should explore. also, a lot of people are team conrad this season but their reasoning is almost always “but in the books…” LIKE OBVIOUSLY since they ALREADY know the entire context, they’re going to be team conrad because they know it’s endgame but, we’re talking about what is being portrayed in the show. i know you can argue “the show is based on the books and blah blah blah”, but as we are watching the events unravel in front of us, why would we let events that we have not seen and have not even happened yet sway our opinion? that being said, i’m team jeremiah FOR NOW.

hope this all makes sense, i’m kind of sleep deprived but i needed to get this out of my system before i go crazy

#tsitp spoilers #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #netflix #rant #tsitp jeremiah #tsitp s2 #tsitp conrad #tsitp belly #team jelly #team bonrad

7 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 9 months

Text

Rope || Draco Malfoy x reader

A/N: I’m alive! ALSO, this is like the first time I’m writing smut so bear with me 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼.

What to expect: Female reader, Slytherin!reader (but not so heavily enforced), friends with benefits (hinted affection towards reader), bondage, dominant Draco, slight jealousy, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT OK?!), oral (fem-receiving), p in v, praise, alcohol and partying, this is not their first time together.

Minors DNI, if you ignore this warning that’s on you 🤨

“How drunk would you have to be to let someone tie you up in bed?”

The question emit a laugh from my lips as I took another sip of fire whiskey, “Oh Pansy, you sweet soul…I’d be stone cold sober!” The brunette in front of me choked on her drink, clearly not expecting my response. “Y/n, you bad, bad, girl! That is scandalous!” She teased. The dim lighting and blaring music of the Slytherin common room surrounded us. Pansy and I had a fair amount of alcohol in our systems as we all celebrated the start of the school term. I gasped in faux offence, clutching a hand to my chest, “What? You asked! There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of rope…”, Pansy simply shook her head at my antics before I gave her a sly grin, “or silk. Depending on your preferences of course!” We burst into laughter before downing another shot of fire whiskey. My face scrunched up slightly as I felt the familiar burn in the back of my throat. Looking at the empty shot glasses in front of us, the fellow Slytherin stood up, “I’ll go get us some more drinks.” I simply nodded my head and watched the short haired girl disappear into the crowd. I was left alone on the couch before I felt a pair of eyes watching me.

I have a feeling I know who it is, and yet I look up anyway. My eyes meet the familiar piercing gaze of none other than Draco Malfoy. Where do I even begin to describe him? Sarcastic, witty, a bit of an asshole sometimes…but, he seems decent enough, especially when he’s making me scream his name. He’s already smirking by the time we make eye contact although, it widens when he notices me looking back at him. I don’t back down, my eyes never leave his piercing gaze, even when he’s practically eye fucking me. He saunters over, and I swallow slightly trying to remain my composure. Whatever happens after this, I blame the fire whiskey. I raise an eyebrow, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company…?” His voice is low as he comes closer, entering my personal space. I can smell the expensive cologne he’s wearing, it invades my senses and reminds me of our previous endeavours. His hand brushes a stray hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear, and lingering for a moment. “You know what I’m here for.”

I simply smirked at the blonde, “I do… but what makes you think I’ll entertain you tonight?” Draco let out a deep chuckle, his hand now caressing my chin whilst his thumb grazed over my lips gently, “I’ll make it worth your time.”, he leaned in even closer to whisper into my ear, “Now I wanna know…do you prefer rope or silk?” My breath hitches, and before I can come up with a response, Pansy comes back and places the tray of drinks at our table. Her green eyes narrowed playfully at the sight of Draco, “Stop thinking with your dick, and leave her alone Draco. You’re interrupting our girl time.” The tall boy chuckled, “Hello to you too Pansy,” he turned towards me once more and leaned in to whisper into my ear, “I’ll come visit later.” With one more piercing gaze he walked away leaving Pansy and I alone. The brunette turned to me with a knowing look, “Don’t tell me he wants to hookup again. It’s been…how many times these past few months?” I took a sip from my drink as I thought about it, my eyebrows furrowing slightly, “I actually don’t know…”, my face broke out in a grin, “It’s probably double digits by now!” We both burst out in laughter.

Soon enough the party had begun to die down, and I had to drag Pansy upstairs to tuck her into bed. The things I do for this girl. I look back to check on her once more before I leave her room and head towards mine. After my encounter with Draco earlier on, he didn’t approach me again. Perhaps he forgot? I took my heels off carrying them in my hands as my feet were incredibly sore from dancing. Arriving at my room, I muttered my password and walk in. My hands felt for the light switch and I flick it on, my eyes land on the tall blonde sitting on my bed. He has that same familiar smirk on his face, “Enjoy your girl time?” I walk over to my vanity and begin to remove my jewellery, I watch in the mirror as he makes his way over to me. My hands begin to unclasp my necklace, “I really did, we caught up and practically danced our asses off tonight.” Draco had positioned himself behind me and helped in unclasping my necklace, he places it on my vanity table and his hand makes its way back to my shoulder. He started to trail light kisses on my neck just below my ear, my eyes flutter shut at the sensation. He whispers, “I saw. I saw you on the dance floor…moving those hips with Zabini.” My eyebrows raise in amusement, “You know he’s just a friend…”

Draco’s large hand travels to the front of my neck and underneath my chin. He tilts my head towards him and my eyes open to meet his gaze. His voice is low, “The same way I’m just a friend…?” I turn around to properly face him, and he moves closer putting his hands on my waist, “Draco…you know it’s different. Are you…are you jealous?” A small smile made its way onto his face, “Maybe, but lets not talk about Zabini any longer.” I roll my eyes, “But you’re the one who- mmph.” He interrupts me with a kiss and it feels like he’s devouring me whole. He pulls away once we begin to run out of air and goes back to trailing kisses on my neck. This time he’s rough, his mouth is sucking my skin in through his teeth leaving purposeful marks. I’ll probably have to wear a scarf this week. He finds the sweet spot on my neck, just below my ear and begins to suck, eliciting small sighs from my mouth. We slowly make our way over to my bed, and next thing I know, I’m pinned underneath him. My hips roll against his and I can feel his desire. My hands tug on his collar bringing him closer to me as I kiss him. His hands are needy and rough as they move from my waist to my chest kneading my breasts, “Draco…” His hips buck at the sound his name, pressing his bulge further against me to get the most friction possible.

His hand finds its way to the zipper on my dress, “Can I take this off?” Flustered, I can only nod. He’s careful as he undresses me and his hungry eyes never leave my body. His pupils dilate as my bare body is exposed, “Have you- Have you been like this all night? Wearing nothing underneath your dress.” I bite my lip, failing to hide my smirk, “Yes…” He lets out a groan, my thighs squeezing together subconsciously, “Fuck Y/n. You’re going to be the death of me.” The blonde tilts his head looking down at me with a smirk, “You never answered my question earlier,” he leaned in closer, “do you prefer rope or silk?” My breathing is shallow at this point, my chest heaving. Draco looks at me expectantly, “Well?” I can barely utter the words, “Rope. I prefer rope.” He leans in to kiss me once more before pulling away again, “That can be arranged…”, he points his wand towards me and mutters, “Incarcerous.”

My wrists are bound together above my head firmly with rope, leaving me at his mercy. Draco pulls away to remove his own clothes, his eyes never leaving mine as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. His pace is slow and purposeful in teasing me, and it makes me want to break free and rip his clothes off. But, for tonight, I’ll be good. His shirt slides off revealing his toned physique, and his hands begin to work on unbuckling his pants. I watch as he pulls his trousers and boxers down, his confined length springing up against his stomach leaking pre-cum. The sight of it makes me whine in need, “Draco please.” The tall boy looks down at me, “Patience love…or you won’t get what you want.” My mouth shuts abruptly and he smirks at the sight. He stalks closer and positions his body between my legs, his length sliding up deliberately against my core. The friction was delicious, his hips rolled against mine as he left hot open-mouthed kisses on my body. My back arches into his touch as his rough hand kneaded one of my breasts and as he kisses the other.

A moan leaves my lips as he takes my nipple in his mouth and sucks harshly. Draco continues to trail kisses down my body leaving no part of my skin untouched, and soon he reaches the top of my mound. He stares at my arousal, “Is this all for me, dear?” I look down at him, his head situated between my thighs. The sight of him unleashes something within me and I can barely think straight, “Always.”Like a starved man he laps his tongue against my slit burying his face into me. My head pushes back into my mattress as my hips grind against his face, “Fuuuck.” His nose nudges against my clit, and he decides to bring his mouth further up my core sucking my clit into his mouth. Tears stream down my face at the pleasure, and by now I’m pretty sure my mascara is running. Draco eases a finger into me, curling it the way I like it. I meet his gaze from between my legs as he thrusts a finger inside of me, and he adds a second one as I clench beneath him. My eyes screw shut as he throws his attention towards my clit once more, his mouth is absolutely devouring me as he laps up my arousal. “Look at me”, my eyes fly open to meet his devilish gaze, “you’ll take a third finger for me, yeah?”

Through my teary vision, I nod. He slides a third finger into my core, his fingers thrusting deeply and purposeful, “Good girl.” I can feel the familiar waves of pleasure approaching, and before I can orgasm, he stops. At the loss of contact I whine, “Draco-” He cuts me off, “Soon.” The blonde rises up from between my thighs and positions himself against me once more. His large hands grip onto my hips as he lines his length up against me. Draco eases it in slowly, letting me accomodate to his length before he’s fully buried inside of me. He pulls out until only the tip is still in, and slams back inside, setting a rough and unforgiving pace. A groan of pleasure leaves his lips and I find myself clenching at the sound. His hands leave my hips and places each of my legs over his shoulders, fucking into me even deeper. A pornographic moan leaves my lips as his thrusts become harsh. Draco’s blue eyes look down at me hazed with lust, “Look at you… so good for me tied up like this.” I can only moan in response, watching as his length slid into me repeatedly. My gasps became more frequent as I felt my orgasm quickly approaching once more, “Draco, I’m about to- please.”

His hand reached down to where we were connected, his thumb began rubbing harsh circles around my clit further coaxing my pleasure, “Come for me sweetheart.” My body tenses up beneath him as my core clenches around his length squeezing him tightly. Draco’s thrusts remain consistent as he helps me ride through the waves of pleasure, although, towards the end his hips start to stutter as his own orgasm approached. “Where can I-” I interrupt, “Inside. Come inside. I’m on the potion.” His thrusts became more urgent as the pleasure built up, and soon enough he released his load into me filling me up. Draco pulls out releasing my legs from his shoulders and watching as our mixed arousal leaks out of me. He leans forward to untie the rope binding my wrists, kissing them gently as he did so. My heart flutters at the gentle action which was so different to when we were having sex a mere moment ago. We cleaned up before he noticed me staring at him and gave my temple another kiss before pulling me into his arms, “You did so good for me tonight darling, how was it?”

I buried my face into his neck. “Perfect. Maybe you should eavesdrop more often, hm?” I teased. That earned a small chuckle from the tall boy, “Maybe I should but, I certainly didn’t hear you complaining.” I could feel my face turning red as I further buried my face against his neck, “Shut up.” Draco howled in laughter before settling down again, a sly grin on his face, “Make me.” Sleep became a foreign concept that night.

A/N: Can you tell I hate the word ‘pussy’? 💀💀

397 notes · View notes

kermitkrqb · 9 months

Text

Rope || Draco Malfoy x reader

A/N: I’m alive! ALSO, this is like the first time I’m writing smut so bear with me 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼.

Minors DNI, if you ignore this warning that’s on you 🤨

“How drunk would you have to be to let someone tie you up in bed?”

A/N: Can you tell I hate the word ‘pussy’? 💀💀

#kermitkrqb #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #slytherin #hp fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

397 notes · View notes