#coriolanus fic
Text
Masterlist
Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, cussing, slight smut (clit rubbing), etc
Chapter 6:
Coryo blinked his eyes open as the harsh morning sunlight streamed thru your bedroom window. Unlike his windows back in his family's Capitol penthouse, yours didn't have curtains. He groaned, not wanting to wake up just yet.
Looking down, he smiles as he takes in the sight of you curled into him. Your head’s still resting on his chest, using it as a pillow, while your arms are slung around him; your legs are entwined with his too. To him you look so ethereal, like a beautiful angel, as you slept clinging to him.
The platinum blonde peacekeeper felt like the luckiest man alive with you snug in his arms. Despite the turn that last night took between you (him pushing you a little too hard for your first time) he felt like this was the perfect morning after. Just watching you peacefully sleep in his arms, the early morning sun radiating brightness on your skin, was enough to bring a lopsided smile to his face.
Lazily, he ghosted his long, calloused fingers over your bare back. He traced his fingertips with a barely there touch up and down your spine, just watching you and waiting for you to stir. And eventually, you did stir.
Feeling a featherlight touch on your spine, you shiver and open your eyes. Looking up at Coryo, you groggily smile, “G’morning.”
“Good morning, beautiful.” Coryo smiled, pressing a kiss against your lips.
You've never been given a good morning wakeup kiss before, so naturally you blushed and smiled sillily into the kiss. A kiss which deepened fairly quickly due to Coryo's hunger for you.
And the boy was hungry for you all the time. He had a desire for you, like a starving man has for a meal. You're the water to the platinum peacekeeper's unquenchable thirst. You're the only thing to satisfy the longing in Coryo's dark soul because you're the sunshine to his dark days.
“Coryo, we need to get up.” You sighed, trying to push your boyfriend away from you as he planted kisses up and down your jawline while rubbing your ass with one of his large hands.
Pulling his lips from your jaw and looking at you, he seriously asked, “Can you be quiet?”
“Why?” You counter, hoping he wasn't alluding to sleeping together, again, this morning.
“I'll let you be on top, go your own pace.” Coryo tells you as his hand, that was on your ass, stopped rubbing it and slid between your legs to tease your folds.
“Coryo, it's morning. We should get up.” You protested, breath hitching as his middle finger slid up and down your folds, only to stop and teasingly rub your clit.
“As long as we're quiet we shouldn't get caught. Plus, your brother was drinking an awful lot last night; bet he's still asleep.”
“Rein always drinks, that's nothing new.” You told your boyfriend, causing him to frown.
“So your brother's a drunk?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked. Shaking his head, heavily sighed, “I don't like that, baby. Dunks don't have a good hold on their senses; what if he hurts you when he's 3 sheets to the wind?”
“He won't-” you began, only for him to interrupt you with a firm, “But what if he does, Y/N? There's always a first time when it comes to being drunk.”
Coryo knows first hand how getting drunk can impair and impact your judgment and senses. Hell, he lost his virginity to some random girl in an alleyway behind a club because of a drunken bet with Festus Creed. He was drunk off his ass on posca that night. But it did earn him a bit of a reputation; began his secret life of being a fuckboy too…
But anyways…
“Why don't you let me inquire about a place for us. One in the nice part of the district, close to the barracks?” Coryo suggests with a smile. His hand, that's not between your legs teasing you, gently cups your cheek as he hums out an assuring, “Hmm?”
“I dunno, Coryo.” You shakily said, feeling yourself grow wetter from his fingers teasing your folds.
“How bout if I find a nice place we'll check it out? Hmm, my darling rose?” Coryo suggested, softly stroking your cheekbone with the rough pad of his thumb.
You curiously raised a brow, “But I thought that Peacekeepers can't marry or live with a woman?”
“Privates can't, but I won't be one for long because I'm going to pass my Officer's Exam; I'm going to be able to give you the life that you deserve.” Coriolanus replied with such conviction, that his word had to be solid and true. With a charming smile, he adds, “Plus, for time being, I can head out of our place early and get to base before wakeup call.”
“This is all so sudden, Coryo.” You honestly told him, since you did feel like everything was happening out of the blue. As if you blinked and your entire life just changed.
The platinum blonde in your bed didn't like hearing that. In fact, it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. It concerned him; made him afraid that you'd push him away. What if last night had anything to do with your thinking? Oh, Coriolanus knew that he had a lot of damage control to do when it came to you.
He couldn't lose you. Not now. So, he had to lay the charm on thick.
Removing his hand from between your thighs and using it to run soothing circles on your lower back, Coryo told you with an unnatural gentleness in his rough baritone, “Baby, are you leery of being serious with me because I got a bit carried away last night? And be honest with me, okay?”
“No.” You shook your head, causing Coriolanus let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
His eyes bore into yours, looking for an explanation to why you're hesitant on him finding the two of you a place. You knew you needed to give him an answer to why you're hesitant about it, but you're not sure if your explanation would make sense to him. So, you worry your lip and try to find the right words to say.
Using his thumb to pull your bottom lip free from your teeth, he lightly scolded, “Don't bite your lip, baby.” Soothingly rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, Coryo implored, “Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it.”
He was secretly hoping that you're being honest about not being freaked out bout last night's rough fucking. He still thinks he has a lot of charm and damage control to lay on you for that.
“It's just…” You sigh, only to carry on with your explanation of, “One day we’re friends, the next I'm your girl, and now you're talking ‘bout getting our own place.” Shaking your head, you admit the truth of your situation. “It just seems fast, you know, since it's all happening within like a week of meeting.”
And there it is. You're afraid of how this looks. Probably because you're a poor district girl and he's a peacekeeper. Coriolanus isn't dumb, he knows that district citizens hate peacekeepers; look down on relationships between district girls and peacekeepers.
“But we've got love at first sight on our side, darling.” Coryo tells you in the most loving tone he can muster. Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he swears, “What we have other people would kill for. Love at first sight’s very special and I'll be damned if I let district social rules keep us apart.” His hands lovingly caresses your cheeks as he declares with a twinkle in his baby blues, “I love you and I'm going to take good care of you, Y/N, no matter what.”
That love declaration took you aback. You honestly weren't expecting it, but it did touch your heart. Even if he loves you more than you love him right now (you really like him a lot, but you're still on the fence post about whether or not you love him), you're willing to give him a chance. Coryo loves you so much, after just a few meetings, that he swears to take care of you.
That's not something to take lightly, especially in the hard scrapple district of 12.
A man willing to take care of his girl, no matter who he is or what he does, is a huge declaration of love and devotion. Or at least it is in the poverty outlying districts. And it's a sure sign that the man's a keeper.
So, despite Coryo being a peacekeeper from the Capitol, in your books he's a keeper.
“I love you too, Coryo. And I'll let you take care of me.” You replied with a smile, because you couldn't afford to lose him. Not when everything you've been raised to believe is screaming at you that your boyfriend's a good man; a man that you need in your life.
“So, you agree to me finding us a place then?” Coryo asked, testing you to see if you'd truly let him take care of you or not.
What did you have to lose? You live in a glorified wooden shack with your miner brother that drinks too much and his barmaid girlfriend. You got fired from your job and so far no other shopkeepers are willing to hire you either. Coryo's certain that he'll pass his Officer's Exam, will be sent to a nicer district to train and serve. And since he promised to take care of you always, he'd surely bring you to a nicer district.
Right?
So, although his love seems all consuming and a bit suffocating, it's also redemptive in a way- in a way that'll give you a better life then the hum drum and depressing one you currently have.
So, you nod and tell Coryo, “Yes, you can find us a place.”
“Good to hear, baby.” Coryo grins triumphantly before kissing you.
But before the kiss has a chance to turn heated, Ashlie's voice calls out from the kitchen with, “Y/N, wake up! I need help with breakfast!”
“Damnit, she would be up.” Coriolanus grumbled under his breath. He knew that he couldn't fuck you this morning, not with your sister-in-law up and wanting your help with breakfast. It'd be too risky; you'd be caught for sure.
“I’ll be right there!” You called back before flinging the blanket off and untangling yourself from Coryo.
When you looked down and saw the blood on the sheet paired with the dried crimson on both your thighs and Coryo's cock you froze. Your eyes blinked and you just stared at it. The reality of what happened last night hits you full force like a freight train from 6.
Coryo quickly realizes what's got you zoning out, so he sits up and cups your cheeks- making you look into his crystal clear blue eyes. “Y/N, it's okay. The blood’s normal for a virgin’s first time.” He assured you in a gentle tone. “Don't be scared, everything's fine, darling.”
“Everything's not fine, Coryo. I'm going to get in so much trouble come laundry day…”
“Okay, how bout we hide the sheet in your closet and clean it ourselves? Hmm?”
“We don't have a bath or a shower, Coryo. There's going to be a bloody washcloth as evidence too.”
“Jesus…you don't have a fucking shower?” Coriolanus couldn't believe this. It's worse than he thought. You live in fucking squalor. Oh, he definitely needs to get you out of this shithole.
No future First Lady of his is living like a fucking peasent. Not when he can help it.
Damn, even he had a shower back in the Capitol and his family didn't have a pot to piss in.
“No.” You shook your head.
“Listen to me, darling.” Coryo orders before telling you the details of his sudden plan, “You stay right here and I'll grab a wet cloth from the bathroom, then I'll clean us both up. After we get dressed, you'll go help Ashlie with breakfast and I'll strip the bed- hide the sheets and the washcloth in your closet and put clean sheets on before joining you in the kitchen.”
“Okay.” You nod, causing Coryo to get out of bed and put on his boxers before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth in order to set your plan in motion.
“Morning, Y/N, did you sleep well?” Ashlie asked as you stepped into the kitchen. Your hair, much to Coryo's urging, was placed over your shoulders to hide the love bite he left on your neck last night. You hope that it's not noticeable to Ashlie, because that'd just be embarrassing to have to explain.
But unknown to you, Ashlie heard everything-
EVERYTHING-
last night because, despite telling you to shut up, Coriolanus wasn't quiet at all. In fact he was loud and the bed banging against the thin wall was loud too.
So Ashlie knows what happened last night, or at least she has a good idea of what happened.
“I'm making oatmeal.” Ashlie told you, stirring a gloopy mixture of bland oats and a few days old goats milk in the cookpot. Gesturing to a steaming tin mug, she said, “I made you some morning tea.”
“But I usually have chicory coffee.” You replied, eying the tea warily since you never had tea in the house. In fact, the only one that drank tea was Ashlie, but it wasn't tea per say but a bunch of bitter dry herbs that she'd have the neighbor girl, Lucy Gray of the Covey, pick for her in the forest.
And, frankly, after what Coryo told you about Lucy Gray you doubt that he'd be pleased about you drinking anything that she picked. He doesn't want you around her, so…
“But with the shape your brother's in, and how he has a shift later tonight at the mines, he needs all the coffee he can get to sober up.” Ashlie said as a way to get you to accept that bitter herb tea she made for you. Oh and how she desperately wanted (no needed) you to drink that tea.
Turning your head, you saw your brother slouched in his sitting chair. He's still wearing his clothes from last night and he's got dried drool on one side of his face. His Seam grey eyes are glassy and bloodshot- a sure sign of a hangover. A tin mug full of chicory coffee is in one of his hands while his other is pressed against his temple in a vain attempt to alleviate his hangover headache.
Turning back to Ashlie, you say, “Yes, I suppose he does need the coffee.”, while reaching for your mug of tea.
Ashlie decides that now's the time to confront you about last night, while Coriolanus is still in your room. So, she grabs your wrist and pulls you close to her, all the while stirring the cookpot, and whispers into your ear, “You know what that peacekeeper did to you last night wasn't right.”
Before you could even bring the mug up to your lips, you go into shock at the brunette's words. Why would she say that to you? Oh my goodness, did she hear something last night?
Confirming your inner thoughts, Ashlie softly said, “The walls are thin; I heard everything he said and did to you, sweetheart.” Giving you a pitiful look, she added in, “You don't have to put up with that. You're a sweet girl and you deserve better than some peacekeeper that views you as an easy piece of ass he can do anything with.”
Her words hurt you, but they also made you mad. How dare she assume that Coryo was taking advantage of you last night. You agreed to fuck him. Yes, he pushed a bit hard towards the end, but you agreed to be with him.
Slamming down the tea mug, causing some of the hot liquid to slosh over the rim, you snapped, “What happened last night between me and Coryo is none of your business. I agreed to fuck him; he didn't make me do anything.” Snatching your wrist out of her grip, you turned on the kitchen sink and ran your hand under the tap, to cool the sting of the hot tea that split onto the hand holding the mug. “He pushed me a bit hard for my first time, but we talked about it, like a couple does, and everything's fine.”
“Y/N, he's not a good man. The things I heard him say last night…good men don't say those things to their girlfriends.” Ashlie told you, quiet enough so that your brother couldn't hear her, in a vain attempt to get you to see how much of a selfish lover Coryo was. Or at least that's how she viewed him.
You on the other hand viewed Coryo as a good boyfriend, as somebody that loved you a lot and quickly. To you he was very devoted.
You didn't know that his love and devotion was actually a sick obsession that was also possessive, but you don't need to worry about that small, minor detail.
To-may-to, to-mah-to, right?
“Why don't you worry about my drunk brother and keep your nose out of my relationship.” You harshly hissed at Ashlie, sounding so unlike yourself, right as Coryo entered the kitchen.
Looking between your hand under the running tap and Ashlie, who he didn't like solely because she was giving him a dirty look, he asked, “Is everything alright in here, babygirl?”
“I accidentally spilled some hot tea on my hand when I set my mug down.” You told Coryo while turning off the tap and patting your hand dry with a hand towel.
Coryo knew that wasn't the only thing that occured in the kitchen, but he needed to get you out of the house to ask what you and that ratty whore from the Hobb talked about while he was cleaning up your bed.
Walking up to you, he placed a gentle hand on your back and ordered in a suggestive tone, “Darling, let's go to the Mellark Bakery.”
“The bakery? But I'm making breakfast!” Ashlie exclaimed in an exasperated protest.
A cruel smirk appeared on the platinum peacekeeper’s angular face as he told her, “I promised my baby that I'd take her to the bakery today and I'm a man of my word.” Turning to you with a look of love and adoration, Coryo simply said, “Come along, Y/N.”, while leading you out of the kitchen.
Ashlie was appalled with the way Coryo was treating you. She was also appalled that you're just letting him do it too.
“Where ya goin’?” Rein asked, his voice scratchy and heavy with last night's booze, as you and Coryo walked by his sitting chair.
“Coryo's taking me to the Mellark Bakery for breakfast.” You answered your brother while Ashlie stared at the scene.
Oh how Ashlie was so pissed at Rein. If only your brother wasn't hungover right now. If he was sober he'd stop Private Snow from taking you out of the house.
“Just don't break any bread over the hearth; I ain't having that in my family.” Your brother seriously told you, pointing his coffee cup at your boyfriend. Truthfully, the thought of you marrying a peacekeeper terrified your brother whether he was sober, drunk, or hungover.
You're too much like your mother for your own good. Rein can't handle it. It's deja vu. Like history repeating itself all over again and he'll be damned if he sits back and watches you pick a peacekeeper over your own kind, the citizens of District 12.
“We won't.” You promised before walking out the door with Coryo.
As soon as you're on the front porch, Coryo asks, “What'd he mean by breaking bread over the hearth?”
“It's how people in 12 get married. It's called a toasting; you share a loaf of bread over a fire you stoke.”
“That's an odd way of getting married.” Coryo remarked as you walked down the porch steps.
Honestly, he viewed it to be a bit primal and uncivilized. In the Capitol couples have large ceremonies (modest if they're middle class or low class), exchange vows, and have a lovely reception only to follow it up with a honeymoon. The thought of being declared married due to breaking bread in front of a hearth was baffling. It proves to Coriolanus that the Districts are below the Capitol.
Well, thankfully he'll be dragging you back to the Capitol for a proper wedding ceremony. It'd be a cold day in hell before he had a toasting.
“Yea, but it's how things are done around here.” You tell him, linking arms with him and starting down the street.
Coryo just nods, accepting your remark. He has other matters to get to the bottom of this morning; debating the classless way 12 holds a marriage ceremony isn't that important. Not compared to what he needs to get aired out.
“What did I really walk into when I entered the kitchen? And don't tell me it was just you running tap water over your hand.”
Great, he would pick up that something was wrong. You didn't want to tell him, since you found it to be embarrassing, but you also had a feeling that he wouldn't like it very much if you lied to him.
So, despite being embarrassed, you told him the truth. “Ashlie overheard us last night; she decided to talk to me about it.”
“Jesus…” Coryo trails off in disbelief. You're 18, the time for that talk has come and gone in his opinion. Hell, he knows for a fact that girls in the districts are marrying and popping out babies pretty young in the Districts- like 15, 16 young. “She was giving you a sex talk? Damn, that's embarrassing.” Your boyfriend chuckles, hoping to lighten up the awkward subject.
“No,” You shook your head, “she was giving me a he’s not good enough for you and you shouldn't have fucked him talk.”
“Fucking ratty whore…” Coriolanus lowly muttered under his breath, jaw clenched tightly in anger.
How dare that dumb district whore say such things to you? Trying to turn you against him when he's the best goddamn thing to happen to you.
Coryo took his free hand and patted your arm the was linked with his, all the while assuring you, “Don't pay Ashlie any mind, she doesn't understand what we have and what we feel for each other.” Leaning his head down to press a comforting kiss to your temple, he told you, “I love you, baby, and I'm always going to love you. Don't let some bitter barmaid whose biological clock's ticking tell you otherwise.”
Before you could say anything to Coryo, you heard a commotion and turned your head in the direction the ruckus was coming from only to see a pair of on duty Peacekeepers dragging Arlo Chance out of the house he shared with Lil and Spruce. And talk about Lil, she was screaming hysterically while chasing after them, screaming and crying: “He didn't do nothing! Let him go, he didn't do nothing!”
Coryo looks between you and the scene unfolding at your neighbor's shack. “Do you know them?” He asks, hoping that you didn't. You knowing criminals is worse than you knowing the Covey in his books. Uh, maybe they're neck and neck. Who knows…
“The man being dragged away’s Arlo Chance, he works in the mines with my brother; he's around his age too, and the girl's Lil. She's Arlo's girlfriend; they live with her brother.”
“Are you friends with Lil?” Your platinum peacekeeper, casually dressed in an oversized white tee and his issued denim pants, asked. He put a light, curious tone in his question, even tho he was hoping that you're not friends with a girl who's man is a criminal.
And in Coriolanus' eyes Arlo Chance is a criminal because his fellow peacekeepers wouldn't just cart him away if he didn't do anything. He knew that the seasoned squads were on a manhunt for whoever blew up a mine earlier in the week. Now he has a hunch about who the culprit was in that.
“I'm friends with Lil, but she's a bit closer to Ashlie since their men are miners.” You admit to Coryo.
“Oh, I see.” Coryo nods studiously while dragging you swiftly down the street. “Well, I advise you not to be so friendly with her anymore since that man of hers is under arrest for the mine bombing that happened the other day.”
“What?! Arlo blew up the mine!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock.
Coriolanus internally groaned at your reaction. He wanted to tell you to shut up, but he didn't want to risk you getting upset. Not after last night. He needs to give you some time to get comfortable with him and his overbearing affections before he can scold you.
“Yes, darling, that's my understanding, so I advise you to stay away from Lil unless you want to be labeled a rebel.” Was the order, disguised as a suggestion, that your boyfriend gave you: his baritone curt and cold as ice.
“But Lil lives a few houses away; she comes over to visit often.”
“Then I suppose this is the reason you need to let me find us a place.” Coryo firmly said, a dead serious look shining in his crystal blue eyes.
Coriolanus kept a keen eye open for any for rent signs in apartment windows while walking to the Mellark Bakery with you. The sooner he got you out of that hellhole you called home the better. Honestly, he needed you alone in your own apartment so that he could condition you; turn you into the perfect Capitolite wife. Despite you being District, you're the kindest, warmest, purest soul he's ever met and he's sure that with the right etiquette training and rhetoric lessons that he'll be able to make you acceptable to proper society- because he can't have people turning their nose up at your District origins.
And if they do, well, he'd probably kill them for daring to speak a word against you.
Yea…
He's got it bad for you.
And of course, the townsfolk stared at you while you walked with your boyfriend. Tongues waggled too. All kinds of things were whispered about you and the platinum peacekeeper, but one thing kept coming up between a few folks of a certain age.
Your mother and your father; how the apple don't fall far from the tree.
“Here we are, darling.” Coryo announced with a smile, his pearly whites shining brighter than his T-shirt, as you approached the bakery. “Now, remember, you can order anything you want, baby.” Your boyfriend smiled while opening up the door to the shop and subtly pushing you inside of the brick building
You could see racks of bread cooling as soon as you entered the bakery. And when your eyes landed on the displays of various pastries, your mouth began to water. The delicious smell wafting throughout the bakery also had your senses on overdrive. You've never been in the Mellark Bakery before, never having enough money to do so, so you're in awe of all the baked goods in the store.
Coryo has his hand on the small of your back while guiding you over to the display case full of various baked goods. “Let's see what they got, shall we, baby?” He suggested with his large, Cheshire cat like grin.
“Okay.” You nod, smiling excitedly. You still can't believe that you're in the bakery; can order anything you want too.
The baker's wife is behind the counter, eying you and Coryo up uneasily. She's used to peacekeepers coming in, but she doesn't like those from the Seam. And, well, to have a handsome peacekeeper with a Seam girl- nothing but a poor wretch of a girl- eying up her display case and sweetly discussing the various pastires disgusted her.
Mrs. Mellark didn't want to service you, because of your Seam residency, but she has no choice but to smile and politely ask how she could help because you're with Coryo, an off duty peacekeeper. It killed the merchant deep inside her soul to do that too.
Coryo ordered you both a chocolate croissant and black coffee with sugar. Mrs. Mellark quickly made up your order and gave it to him. She gave Coryo a discount, like she did all peacekeepers (as a sort of bribe to keep them coming back for more baked goods on their days off) and thanked him with a big, but fake smile as he dismissively told her to keep the change (it was only a few measley pennies anyways).
Coryo and you ended up sitting on a bench in the town square, eating your pastries and drinking your coffee while talking about the tiniest things.
“Are you enjoying your pain au chocolat, baby?” Coryo asked with a genuine smile from ear to ear while watching you scarl down your pastry.
“Yes.” You reply before taking another bite. “Is that what chocolate filled croissants are called in the. Capitol? Pain au chocolate?” You ask, wondering about the term he used to inquire about your like of the sweet pastry.
“Yes.” Coryo nodded, sipping on his coffee. “And in the Capitol our coffee would be called sweetened black instead of black with sugar.”
“The Capitol has pleasant sounding names for things, doesn't it.” You stated although it sounds more like a question.
“It does.” Coryo agreed with manic smile. “Perhaps we'll be able to go back there on day.” He proposed before taking a precise and gentlemanly bite out of his croissant.
You knew his remark was just wishful thinking since Coryo was from the Capitol. You knew, as much as he did, that he'd never return to the Capitol; that he'll never take you there either. But it's nice to have hopes and dreams; you can't fault him for that.
So, being too kind for your own good, you give your boyfriend a smile and say, “Perhaps we will, Coryo.”
But only if you knew that Coriolanus Snow took your words very seriously and to heart. That by telling him that you just signed up for a one way ticket to the Capitol whether you liked it or not. Coryo’s taking you back with him when he's able to return; he's also making you Mrs. Snow and his First Lady. He's going to be making you the mother of his children (who, of course, will be heirs to one of the mightiest families in all of Capitol society) and he knows deep in his bones that you'll be a picture perfect mom- nurturing, gentle, soft. And since you'll be a picture perfect mom you'll also be a picture perfect wife.
If only you knew that Coriolanus Snow's a cunning, devious snake of a man that'll do anything to get what he wants. And what he wants is a life in the Capitol as filthy rich politician- no as President of Panem- with you by his side til you're old and grey; parted by nothing but death.
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future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader
hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon
this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!
as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda
informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned
anyways… here is future problems:
he never wanted to get married.
he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.
despised them.
however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.
and it would be you.
he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.
it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.
he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.
however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.
at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.
but then… oh, then…
then he saw your smile.
oh, your smile.
your fucking smile.
the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.
no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.
no one.
when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.
and it was… until he was sick.
it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.
however, he did not expect one problem.
and that would be you.
he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.
he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?
so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.
just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.
he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —
but he couldn’t finish the thought.
because you walked in.
smelling like fucking lilacs.
lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.
however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.
he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.
“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”
“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”
you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.
he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.
“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”
you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”
you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”
you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.
he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.
however, he didn’t understand why.
he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?
he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.
and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.
however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?
his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.
he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.
he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!
he had to know. he had to.
to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.
as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.
"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."
you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"
"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."
you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?
"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."
why. why. why.
he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.
he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.
the act would drop. it always did.
the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.
and he fucking hated himself for it.
he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.
but you had kept reading for him.
he grew angry.
when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."
your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.
"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."
you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.
"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.
you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."
she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.
the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.
that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.
that would have to be righted immediately.
he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.
they always slip.
the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.
he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.
how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.
you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.
"good evening," you greeted.
"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.
"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.
he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"
your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."
you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."
you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."
he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"
your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”
your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?
so he went with what was natural: manipulation.
“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”
you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.
“what troubles you?” he asked.
your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.
“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”
“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”
there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.
“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”
your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.
“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”
“please,” he answered and nodded.
you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.
this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.
he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.
you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.
you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.
and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.
for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,
to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.
you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.
after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.
how had he not expected this?
his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.
he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.
he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.
he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.
good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.
he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.
so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.
he hated himself for the lilacs.
he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.
however, it didn’t.
all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.
she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.
he knew what he had to do.
he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.
he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.
he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.
you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”
“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.
“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”
you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.
“how do you like his new book?” you asked.
coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”
you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”
he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.
“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”
you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”
“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”
you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”
“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.
you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”
now was the time.
“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”
you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.
damn, he thought. didnt bite.
“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.
you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”
he nodded.
“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”
“i don’t understand.”
you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”
your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.
“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.
there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”
your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.
“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.
“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”
“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.
“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”
it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.
“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”
“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”
you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed
you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.
there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?
he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.
once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.
when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”
“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”
he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.
oh.
you invited him in to… to…
that he had not expected.
before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.
once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.
you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.
what was he to do?
he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.
the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.
would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?
you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.
he reasoned a reward was in order.
he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.
the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.
then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.
those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.
however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.
he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.
“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”
coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.
coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.
“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”
your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”
his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.
“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“
he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.
he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.
“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.
your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”
“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.
you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.
“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“
coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”
he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.
just this once, you both thought. just this once.
his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.
with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.
corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.
“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.
he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”
he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.
he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”
you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”
his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”
“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.
his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”
“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”
bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.
it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.
“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”
he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”
you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.
holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.
he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.
you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.
a low hum filled his chest.
you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.
that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.
maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.
you had to do something.
"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."
he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.
you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.
"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."
your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.
"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.
"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."
you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."
he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"
you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."
he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"
"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."
"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.
you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.
“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”
there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.
he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.
in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.
“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.
your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.
with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.
shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.
his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.
“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”
you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.
he cocked an eyebrow.
“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”
corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…
oh… you were done for.
one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.
the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.
“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”
his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.
“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”
“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”
“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”
“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.
the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —
“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”
tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —
“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“
there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.
“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”
“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”
you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.
it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.
tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.
his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.
“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.
“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”
you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“
“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.
you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“
he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.
“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”
you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”
he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”
you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."
you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”
“i promise,” you returned.
you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.
everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.
"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"
"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"
you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.
you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.
he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.
you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.
"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."
again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...
that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.
"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."
his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."
your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."
corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.
"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."
"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."
his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"
"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"
corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.
when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.
he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.
"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."
corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"
you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."
he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."
---
love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u
-L xooxoxooxox
#corio smut#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow smut#corio snow smut#corio fic#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#corio snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus fic#coriolanus imagine#corio imagine#the hunger games#lucy gray#sejanus plinth#young coriolanus snow
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whenever coryo is stressed the first thing he does is look for you. you're the only one that knows how to calm him down when he gets all worked up. heart racing and head thumping. he needs you. more specifically, he needs to be inside you. he needs to feel your warm walls wrapped around him. needs to hear the moans that fall from your lips as he presses himself inside. the way your back arches against him and the light dances across your breasts. there's nothing in the world that compares to how he feels inside you. he'd lay there all day with you wrapped around his cock if he could. forget the capitol, forget his missions, he's so in love with you and your pussy, he'd give it all up in a heartbeat.
#— ꒰ ‧ ₊˚ vee daydreams ˖꙳‧ ꒱#— not sfw ! ᰔ#coriolanus snow ᰔ#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow concept#coriolanus snow blurb#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x y/n#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus fic#coriolanus x reader#tom blyth x reader
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hey, bestie! I love your writing, it's just a chef kiss mwah! If I can request a fic! Imagine the reader being kinda of a femme fatale, and popular with her peers because of her beauty. -Coriolanus develops a puppy crush on her when he sees her in the halls, but one day the reader notices him, and talks to him, and after that, he's lovestruck and slowly becomes obsessed with her. Leaving cute notes and flowers at her locker and letters. The rest of the story, you can control and write.
The reader is like Jennifer from Jennifer's body but ignore the succubus part.
thank you love, i love this req sm! 🎀 i tried my best to capture everything as my fics aren’t usually too long !! nsfw 18+ skip if uncomfortable
Coriolanus Snow x Femme Fatal!Reader
Coriolanus Snow, the undeniably charming student at Capitol University, couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He was smitten with your beauty and the alluring way you carried yourself, captivating everyone with your grace and presence.
As the days passed, Coriolanus grew bolder and began leaving cute notes and flowers at your locker, hoping to catch your attention. His heart raced every time he thought of you, and he found himself losing focus during classes, consumed by thoughts of you.
One day, you finally notice him. He's sitting alone in the library, head buried in a book, looking oh-so-adorable. You walk up to him, feeling the weight of your beauty and charm, and strike up a conversation.
You engage in a casual conversation with him, unaware of the effect you're having on him. The more you talk, the more infatuated he becomes. His heart races, and he struggles to maintain eye contact as his thoughts wander towards intimate scenarios involving the two of you.
As the conversation continues, You sense something different about Coriolanus. His eyes are brighter, his voice is softer, and he seems a bit flustered. You sense his longing and desire, and a spark of curiosity ignites within you.
You continue to engage with him, teasing and flirting, unaware of the depth of his affection for you. As the conversation deepens, so does his passion, and he finds himself struggling to keep his desires in check.
Coriolanus is on the verge of confessing his feelings for you, but something holds him back. He wants to express his love, but is too shy and self-conscious. He's torn between his desire for you and his fear of rejection.
Unbeknownst to Coriolanus, you start to feel a strange connection with him. His shyness and hesitation only serve to heighten your curiosity about him. As the conversation winds down, you find yourself wanting more from this enigmatic individual who has captured your attention so thoroughly.
Unbeknownst to Coriolanus, you start to feel a strange connection with him. His shyness and hesitation only serve to heighten your curiosity about him. As the conversation winds down, you find yourself wanting more from this enigmatic individual who has captured your attention so thoroughly.
As the night comes to a close, Coriolanus finally finds the courage to confess his feelings for you. His voice trembles slightly as he tries to find the words to express himself, but finally, he blurts out, " I'm in love with you. "
You stare at Coriolanus, barely able to believe what you're hearing. You are deeply moved by his honesty and vulnerability, and you find yourself falling for him even deeper.
" I'm falling for you too " you whisper, your heart racing in anticipation of what might come next. As the two of you stand there in the silence of the night, you realize that your lives have just irrevocably changed.
The two of you embrace, your bodies pressing together as you share a tender kiss. You can feel the heat and desire radiating off of him, and you know that this moment will be one you'll cherish forever.
" My room is just upstairs " Coriolanus whispers into your ear. His voice is hoarse with desire, and you can't help but shiver at the thought of what might happen next.
As the two of you make your way upstairs, the anticipation and desire building within you both is almost unbearable. The door to your room closes behind you, and the two of you are finally alone together.
Coriolanus kisses you deeply, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth as his hands roam over your body. Heat surges through you as he pushes you against the door, pinning you there with his strength and desire.
You moan into the kiss, arching your back against him. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull him closer, needing more of his touch. The feeling of his skin against yours is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.
As if he's reading your mind, Coriolanus's hands begin to explore the most intimate parts of your body. His fingers dance over your sensitive skin, teasing and tantalizing until you're ready to beg for more.
Finally, Coriolanus moves his mouth from your lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as his fingers continue their journey. You gasp and arch your neck into his mouth, wanting more of his touch. This is a feeling unlike anything you've ever known before.
You gasp as Coriolanus undoes his pants, freeing his aching erection. He positions himself between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly positions against your entrance.
" Please " you whisper, your voice trembling with need. " I want you. "
Coriolanus pulls back, only to thrust forcefully inside you, hitting your sweet spot with a force that steals your breath.
His fingers digging into your hips, his mouth trailing kisses down your neck, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that drives you to the brink.
" Come for me " he demands. Your body shudders, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your name, a moaned plea, falls from his lips as he feels your walls clenching around him.
" Coriolanus... " You whisper his name, your voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. He groans, his body shuddering as he releases himself into you, filling you completely.
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow fan fiction#coriolanus snow drabble#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus fic#coriolanus drabble#coriolanus smut#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x y/n#tom blyth x you#tom blyth smut#billy the kid smut#billy the kid x you#smut#fem!reader
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mdni; tw: slapping, slightly mean coryo. fem!reader
academic rivals with Coryo to the point you’re always spewing hate at each other, an obvious distaste to those around but the moment you’re alone with him, he’s fucking your brains out. And neither of you admit that you love it, that the sex is so good. The way his hands encompass yours when he pins them down and his lips leave a lasting feeling on your skin that you’ll savor for days on end until you can have him again. You find yourself missing the way his hands fist the sheets when his cock is down your throat, surprisingly letting you take all the control you wanted.
"I really don't care what you do, get your mouth on my dick." Coryo fumbles with his uniform pants as he tries to get the button undone and shoves the fabric past his thighs. You watch him, arms crossed and raise a brow.
"You're not even gonna say please?" Your voice is mocking, piercing his already desperate and entitled attitude and if he was feeling up for it, he would have bent you over and slapped your ass till you cried, but he felt generous this afternoon.
"I won't say thank you either, princess," he rasps out, holding himself back from smiling when you roll your eyes at him and get on your knees in front of him.
He never stops thinking about how you moan his name, the marks you leave on his shoulders and chest are more aggressive when you’re angrier at him, it only spurs him to do so; to piss you off so bad you have the gall the actually slap him. He'd think badly of himself later that night when he remembers the sting of your hand on his cheek, but then he finds himself wanting it again the next time he's fucking you. You looked at him too prettily as your moans turned to whimpers. It was too much for him. No, he needed you to get angry at him again. So he turned to his mean self for answers, as his cock pounded into you, ridiculing you about how awful you did in your presentation that day. He pressed and pressed until you slapped him.
But he loves it. He despises it so fucking bad. You’re like a vice he can’t shake, even if he tries to not come crawling back to your arms and wet cunt, his dick can’t resist you, hell his brain can’t resist you. Both of you come back each and every time.
"You're like clockwork, Snow. Always here exactly at eight," you'd jab at him one night, too prideful to recall the fact that you'd do the same if you were meeting at his place instead of yours.
"You wouldn't touch me if I was late," he'd mutter, not really meaning for you to hear, but you hear it. He sees that. A rare and true moment of shyness comes over him and he freezes, his eyes widening as he tries to cover his tracks, "Guess my timing's just good," before he's pushing you back into your bed and towering his body over yours.
It’s worse when he’s invited to a dinner party at your parents’ behest, and he greets you in the most proper etiquette matter of holding your hand, delicately, like you’re fragile. But of course he knows you’re not. He knows how rough he’s taken you with his cock and when his lips touch your knuckles in a small kiss, his eyes shooting up to peer into yours, Coryo has to try with all of his might not to smirk, with all of his strength not to lick the length of your fingers and take them into his mouth. But he’d chance it. He’d dart his tongue quick before you could process it and even the small feeling of his wet tongue on your finger makes your anger flare up.
It would only be a matter of time before you’re pulling him by his arm and shoving him against a wall to teach him some manners.
let’s chat about coryo, here :)
here’s this too
#idk where this came from#we can talk about academic rivals with coryo cause i love it#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coryo snow#tom blyth fanfiction#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow imagine#coryo smut#coryo x reader#coryo x you#coryo drabble#coriolanus snow drabble#coriolanus smut#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus fic#coriolanus fanfiction
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The Type of Boyfriend
People often wonder what type of boyfriend Coriolanus Snow would be like.
He’s a coat of many colors, a jack of all trades, a fucking wild card if you will, so a definite answer can truly never be given.
However.
Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who insists on the stereotypical gender roles, his girlfriend must look presentable at all times—to help his image—and he is to be the sole provider of their household.
Coriolanus does however hold his girlfriend’s purse whenever he takes her shopping, the six-foot-two man proudly wearing her outrageously expensive handbag on his broad shoulder while he follows her around the store.
Coriolanus Snow is the type of man to roll his eyes at any signs of weakness. He doesn’t tolerate things like that, childish notions that he left behind years ago when the war ended.
Coriolanus does make the exception for his girlfriend though. Especially when she falls and hits the pavement hard, scraping her soft knees. He’s thorough in cleaning them, wrapping them in bandages and then placing kisses on the bandages cuts for good measures.
A woman’s body is something he knows much about but he always seems to be lacking when it comes to the somewhat taboo topic of his girlfriend’s menstrual cycle. Quite the painful topic where she’s concerned. He does everything to help make her feel better. Heating pads, chocolates, kisses, whatever she wants. He truly does hate to see her in pain to the point where he begins to grow a certain disdain to her uterus for inflicting such pain on his precious girl.
Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to claim he despises being forced to indulge in cute little dates. Don’t ever try to get him to do a simple face mask, even though he’ll complain when he feels that the amount she’s applied isn’t “an even coat.” And heaven forbid he be coaxed into wearing a matching set of pajamas while he watches her construct a pillow fort in their living room, mostly because he’ll just have to take over since the structural integrity is clearly at risk with these throw pillows.
Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to absolutely despise his girlfriend being in the company of other men. He might make the exception for her father but that’s about it. He can’t help it, can’t trust these other men and their intentions with his precious rose. She is the air he breathes and for that to be taken away from him is something that terrifies him.
Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who looks forward to falling asleep but only because it means his girlfriend is safely tucked away in his strong arms. He loves to watch her sleep, listen to her soft breathing and watch her nose twitch every once in a while. She’s managed to touch a deep rooted kindness in him that he thought no longer excited until he met her. To have her seek him out for comfort and safety is a gift within itself and one he could never take for granted.
Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to be surprisingly good at braiding hair. It’s no secret that braided hair is all the rage in Panem and he’ll be damned if his girlfriend is left out of the rising trend. He can do a mean fishtail and don’t even ask if he can dutch braid because he sure fucking can.
Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to be extremely petty when it comes to the simplest things like putting the dishes away or making the bed. He can’t help but keep a mental spreadsheet in his mind of what has been done by who. Even if it lands him cleaning out the litter box.
Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to claim that he can’t stand his girlfriend’s cat but rushes both of them to the vet when her cat gets sick. He’ll be right with the love of his life while they wait in that oh-so crowded waiting room with the parrot who keeps saying the most creative curse words he’s ever heard. He’s most definitely going to pester the veterinarian with a thousand questions concerning the cat’s health even though it turns out the spoiled thing ate a sock. And his girlfriend won’t get a chance to pay for the vet bill, because Coriolanus insists on paying for everything.
And when it’s later that evening and all is well and his girlfriend has drifted off the sleep he’ll confess to the feline that he was just a tad bit worried about her health. But he’ll deny such claims should they be brought up.
But Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who has a certain dark side that he hides away. So heaven help his girlfriend when she finally discovers it and realizes that it’s far too late to escape the jaws of this venomous snake.
| tumblr oneshot/drabble |
#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus snow#hunger games#slaymitchabernathy#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#coriolanus smut#ao3 fanfic#wattpad#soarynn snow#coriolanus x soarynn#coryo snow#staywithmealways#coriolanus x original character#coriolanus x oc#coriolanus drabble#coriolanus oneshot#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus fic#oneshot
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Ok girlies, who are you sending this to for Valentine’s 😏💦
& who wants to turn it into a fic 👀👀👀
#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#coriolanus snow#tom blyth#carmy berzatto#jeremy allen white#simp hours#valentines day#chocolate covered strawberries#the sluttiest sweet#aemond fic#aemond smut#carmy fic#carmy smut#coriolanus fic#coriolanus smut#coryo fic#coryo smut#smutty smut smut#prince aemond targaryen#modern aemond#aemond fanfic#modern aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#carmen berzatto#coryo snow
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Walls Could Talk
A shitty late night drabble about Coriolanus and Abigail and their toxic relationship inspired by the lyrics of Walls Could Talk by Halsey :)
warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of a physical fight,
PSA:yall in all seriousness, if ur partner lays a hand on you thats not okay ever, dont let toxic hot fictional blonde men convince u otherwise pls
A/N: uh if yall hate this or think its shitty im sorry :(
Been about three days and I'm comin' back I'm about four minutes from a heart attack And I think you make me a maniac But you don't know, oh
It had been three days since Abigail’s last exchange with Coriolanus Snow. a dangerous dance between passion and turbulence, left her teetering on the edge of emotional chaos. The toxic nature of their connection manifested in frequent conflicts, transforming arguments into battlegrounds where the lines between love and frustration blurred. The prolonged silence between their fights heightened her sense of unease, amplifying the feeling of insanity and stirring a storm of doubt within. But it had been three days, she missed his touch, and he had said sorry. So she came back to him even though she felt crazy for forgiving so easily.
Two years and we in between But we both been here since we 17
This relationship had been on and off for two years now, and right now she wasn't quite sure where they stood. Were they together again, were they not together again? She was sure that they were together but she knew she shouldn't just assume. They had been together since they were 17, she couldn't imagine life without him, even if it meant she had to put up with things she would never dare mention out loud to her friends.
Here we go, fist fight in a limousine But they don't know
The atmosphere inside the limousine took an unexpected turn when Abigail realized Coriolanus was already drunk. Tensions escalated when she confronted him, and what began as a disagreement morphed into a heated confrontation, which then turned into a tumultuous fistfight. The confined space of the luxurious vehicle intensified the emotional storm, with emotions reaching a boiling point. Bruised and emotionally drained, they arrived at the party, and before exiting the limousine, they both straightened up and put smiles on their faces, pretending the past 10 minutes hadn’t happened as they walked into the party, acting like the perfect couple that everyone thought they were.
And we both hope there's something But we bo-both keep fronting And it's a closed discussion
It was unspoken between the two of them that the relationship should have ended long ago, yet they couldn't help but hold on to a love that had already expired. It was an undiscussed topic, whether they should finally call it quits or not, Both continuing to pretend that this tumultuous relationship wasn't hurting them.
And I'm thinking, "Damn, if these walls could talk" Well, they'd be like "Shit is crazy, right?" I ain't your baby no more
As she navigated the charade at the party, she couldn't shake the weight of the truth lingering in the walls of the limousine. If those walls could talk, they would unveil the heartbreaking narrative etched into their fabric—the whispers of passionate arguments, the echoes of painful turmoil, and the silent witness to a relationship veering into the realm of the inexplicable. In those moments of pretend normalcy, Abigail was acutely aware that the walls, had they possessed a voice, would have screamed the undeniable truth: that the version of love she clung to was fading, and the person she once knew as hers was slipping away. The limousine, a silent witness to their private struggles, seemed to embody the emotional distance that had grown between them. The unspoken revelation echoed in her mind, painting a stark picture of a relationship that had become more a theater of chaos than a sanctuary of love. She called it off that night.
Been about two weeks since you went away I'm about halfway through a Cabernet There I go, I'm wastin' a Saturday Sittin' at home
Two weeks after the breakup, Abigail found herself immersed in solitude, halfway through a bottle of Cabernet, as she spent her Saturday evening at home. The echoes of the past lingered in the air, and the quietude of her surroundings mirrored the emotional stillness within. She grappled with the residual emotions of the breakup, contemplating the significance of the choices made. Saturday, once a canvas for shared moments, now became a canvas for self-reflection, a necessary pause in the narrative of a relationship that had both shaped and tested her resilience.
Told my new roommate not to let you in But you're so damn good with a bobby pin Now you gon' play me like a violin Hittin' these notes
Abigail warned her new roommate against letting Coriolanus in, going so far as to even change the locks but her attempt was thwarted as he skillfully picked the lock with a bobby pin and infiltrated her space. In the face of his unexpected appearance, he began on a desperate plea, apologizing profusely and weaving a narrative that resonated with her vulnerabilities. His words, a carefully crafted symphony of remorse and promises, struck a chord that resonated with Abigail's yearning for resolution and connection. Despite her initial resolve, Coriolanus managed to utter the right words, tapping into the emotional undercurrents that still bound them. In a moment of vulnerability, she found herself swayed, uttering a hesitant "yes" that, for a fleeting moment, seemed to hold the promise of a renewed chapter, even as the shadows of their turbulent history loomed in the background.
And we both hope there's something But we bo-both keep fronting And it's a closed discussion And I'm thinking, "Damn, if these walls could talk" Well, they'd be like "Shit is crazy, right?"
As they attempted one last time to rekindle the relationship, they engaged in a subtle game of emotional concealment, each afraid to expose the depth of their feelings. The subject of their connection remained a closed discussion, unspoken but palpable in the air between them. As they navigated this fragile moment, Abigail couldn't help but ponder the profound insights the walls of her space might share if they could speak. The unspoken truths, the untold desires, and the echoes of their shared history reverberated within the confines of the room, creating an unspoken tension that lingered like a silent conversation, waiting for the right moment to be unveiled. She couldn't escape the unspoken messages she imagined the walls would convey. If only they could talk, they might whisper a stark truth she was hesitant to fully embrace – "That ain't your baby no more." The walls, silent witnesses to the tumultuous journey of her relationship with Coriolanus, seemed to echo the sentiment that the connection, once so intimately entwined, had now slipped through her grasp. The phrase lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the transformative power of time and the irreversible changes that had reshaped the contours of their shared history. In the quietude of her thoughts, Abigail grappled with the weight of those unsaid words, questioning the nature of her evolving relationship and the path she was reluctantly navigating.
I ain't your baby no more Hey! No more I ain't your baby no more
Abigail arrived at a poignant realization that resonated with the unspoken truths hanging in the air. No more, he wasn't hers anymore. The weight of that acknowledgment settled in her heart, carrying the bittersweet resonance of letting go. The walls, if they could articulate her sentiments, would echo the profound shift in the dynamics of their connection. In that moment of clarity, Abigail confronted the stark reality that the ties binding them had frayed irreversibly. The words lingered in her thoughts, a sobering admission that marked the beginning of a new chapter—a chapter where she grappled with the echoes of what once was, while navigating the uncharted territory of a future without him as hers.
#coriolanus snow#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosbas#walls could talk halsey#coriolanus snow angst#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus snow drabble#tom blyth#angst#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus fic#Spotify
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As he pushed the glass door slightly more open, he was met with the scent of night-blooming jasmine flowing in with the cold night air. The delicate lace curtains adorning the room danced in the breeze and flowed around Pandora who was stood by one of the windows, her silhouette cast in the gentle glow of moonlight filtering through the glass panes.
Coriolanus approached her cautiously, his footsteps softly audible on the oak floors. He observed her profile for a moment, the subtle curve of her jawline, the graceful arc of her neck. She looked beautiful, he had to admit. Almost as beautiful as his mother had always looked.
"Pandora," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid to disturb the fragile tranquility of the moment.
#fanfic#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus snow#ao3 fanfic#ao3 link#corio#coriolanus fic#coryo snow#fanfiction#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas#the hunger games#hunger games fanfiction
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please don’t go, i love you so
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
“Wanna show me just where you belong?”
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus snow fluff#coriolanus snow x you#the hunger games x you#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games fic#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfic#writer#writers on tumblr#writing#coryo snow#writing for fun#coriolanus snow smut
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MR. AND MS. SNOW | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. where you’re one of the main characters for the ballad of songbirds and snakes and fans ship you with your co-star, tom blyth!
part two ~ part three
ynuser snow would be so boygenius cottage girl core if he wasn’t crazy!
tagged @/tomblyth, @/rachelzegler
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tomblyth boygenius what now?
user1 YES QUEEN INTRODUCE HIM TO BOYGENIUS
user2 she’s so unserious i love her hello
rachelzegler if only he wasn’t crazy 😔
iloveyn miss girl saying this as if she wasn’t his literal girlfriend and as crazy as him in the movie
➥ ynuser afraid you ate me up with that one 💔
➥ iloveyn OMG HI
tomblyth thanksgiving
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ynuser 🦃🦃
user3 hi bae
user4 are those.. yn’s hands.. in 3rd pic
➥ user5 WAIIIIT CAUSE…
yndaily miss yn in her new video with vogue! here are all the times yn mentioned tom blyth (you’re welcome) 🤭
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user6 girly was mentioning tom like 100 times in this video
user7 imma be sick
user8 if they’re not inlove i dont even know what they are
user9 they’re INLOVE YOUR HONOR
iloveyn HIM CALLING HER? HER TELLING US THAT HE TRIED CHEERING HER UP AFTER SEEING HER IN TEARS?
user10 yn avocot try not to mention tom blyth challenge failed
ilovetomblyth they never beating the dating allegations
ynsboyfriendreal who is this white man of the month and why is he with my gf
➥ iloveyn LMAOO REALL
tomblyth well, the jig is up! mr and ms. snow. dating this beautiful girl not only in the ballad of the songbirds and snakes but also irl (p.s yes, it was me calling her during the interview! sorry love!)
tagged @/ynuser
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user11 “love” im crying
user12 siri remind me to book a therapy appointment
user13 time to listen to phoebe bridgers and cry. a LOT.
ynuser “jig is up” you old man
➥ tomblyth well u love this old man
➥ user14 OH MY GOD???
rachelzegler finally! no more secrets!
user16 everyone going insane over this is so real
user17 casually drops bomb like rebels did at arena
➥ user18 SICKKK😭😭😭
#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#Coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus snow fluff#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#the hunger games
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Based on this ask
You've been married to President Snow for 25 years now and have 4 children between the ages of 20 & 9. When your 15 year old daughter wants to go on her first date, Coriolanus isn't taking it well. He's an overprotective girl dad.
Takes place in the Anti-Hero Universe
Your daughter, Demeter, was a total daddy's girl. She was spoiled and had Coriolanus wrapped around her little finger. Just like her 3 brothers, your daughter was the spitting image of her father. Platinum blonde curls, cerulean blue eyes, mile long legs, and a prominent nose.
Your daughter inherited your smile and your demeanor. You saw so much of your younger self in your daughter. More so than in your other children.
So, of course, Coriolanus had strict rules for his princess when it came to boys. Well, really it was only one rule. No dating until enrolling in the University.
Meaning Demeter couldn't date until she graduated from the Academy- at 18. But, you're sure that when that time comes a new rule change will come into effect- making her age of dating pushed up by a couple of years.
Demi was a bright girl in her first year at the Academy; she was adhering to her dad’s rule until one day she wasn't.
You, Coriolanus, your first born Cassian, his longtime girlfriend Phoebe (who you stopped the president from poisoning a few times since he couldn't stand the flippant girl), Demeter, and your other sons Caspian and Caelestis were gathered around the large, ornate dining table in the presidential palace for dinner. Despite being kept busy as the President, your husband was very adamant that the family ate together every night. Hell, the family ate breakfast together every morning too- in the sunroom.
Minus Cassian's girlfriend since Coriolanus did not let her live in the Presidential Palace. He's still pouting over the last poisoning attempt that you thwarted. One day, you're certain you won't be able to stop him and he'll succeed.
“Seneca Crane asked me to the Yule Ball and I said yes!” Demeter blurted out, an overjoyed smile on her youthful face, as the Avox served the first course.
You could hear a pin drop. Even the Avox paused in their motions of serving the tomato bisque to watch, wide-eyed, President Snow's reaction. Oh boy, everyone knows the one rule your husband had for your daughter. And Demeter announcing that she was asked out and said yes broke that one rule.
Even if it's for the Yule Ball, the rule of no dating is still being broken. Attending a ball or gala with a boy is considered a date. Or at least it is in the Capitol.
“I’m sorry, Demi, but you'll have to tell the young Mister Crane that you won't be attending the Yule Ball with him.” Coriolanus calmly, but cooly, told your daughter. Then he snapped his fingers and motioned for the Avox to continue serving the soup to the family.
Everyone’s eyes fluttered between Coriolanus and Demeter. Yours included. Would she accept her father's order or would she push back.
You knew exactly what she'd do. Hell, it was the exact same thing you did when your own guardian, your older half-brother, forbid you to see Private Snow anymore. You pushed back and picked Coryo; you're sure that Demi’s going to push back and pick Senaca Crane.
And you're right.
“Daddy, all of my friends are going to the Yule Ball. Everyone's going! And I'm going too, with Seneca Crane, whether you like it or not!” Demeter shrieked, only to loudly push her chair away from the table and storm out of the dining room.
“Demeter Juniper, come right back to the dining room! You haven't been properly dismissed yet!” The President orders in a loud, authoritative tone.
But your daughter didn't come back. In fact, you think she stormed off to her room. Not that you blame her.
You knew that Coryo would let her be; that he wouldn't chase after her. Demeter had him wrapped around her finger. She was daddy's little princess. The President would never make a scene by leaving the dining room to chase after her; he’d wait til after dinner to have a word with her.
Hell, this isn't the first time something like this has happened and it won't be the last.
The President took a deep, calming breath while motioning the Avox over. Once the Avox appeared at his side, he told the Avox, “Have a maid wheel a trolley full of all the supper courses to Demi’s room.”
Of course your husband was having the full course meal sent up to your daughter. Even tho she stormed off during dinner, Coriolanus didn't want her going hungry. He loves his children too much to ever let any of them go hungry.
The Avox nodded and took off to get your daughter's meal sent up to her.
“Now, let's go back to our soup.” The President said, causing everyone to pick up their spoons and begin to eat their tomato bisque.
“Mister President, maybe you should let Demeter go to the Yule Ball with Seneca. It could be the beginning of a sweet relationship.” The teal haired girl sitting next to Cassian has the idiotic nerve to tell your husband.
“Phoebe…” Cassian hissed warningly at his girlfriend while giving her a swift kick under the table.
“Yes, well, my son took you to the Yule Ball his sophomore year of the Academy and you've been a barnacle on the Snow family for years.” Your husband curtly told Phoebe, causing Cassian to cringe in embarrassment. “But unlike my sons, I have stricter rules for my daughter.” Coriolanus explained while pristinely bringing his soup spoon to his mouth.
“Phoebe, perhaps you should just enjoy the tomato bisque and not worry about how my husband and I raise our daughter or, in fact, any of our children.” You told the teal haired girl with a pointed fake smile while placing a supportive hand on your husband's under the table, on his lap.
Phoebe’s eyes went wide, but she silently nodded and went back to her soup. In fact, after your remark, everyone began to engage in light conversation while tentatively sipping on soup.
Coryo squeezed your hand, that was on his- on his lap, only to lean over slightly to tell you, “After dinner I'm going to talk with Demi; explain to her why she's not allowed to attend the ball with Seneca Crane.”
“Don’t be too strict, Coryo. Remember, she's young and likes Seneca.” You knowingly advised your husband.
“Hmph.” Coriolanus huffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I know she's young. She's 15, my darling, and that's why I need to be strict on her about the subject of dating and boys.”
“Honey, my brother told me it was either you or them; I picked you. Demeter's all you in looks, but all me in personality. So, just don't push her too hard on this.”
“I know, my darling rose. I know.” Coriolanus sighed right as a maid came in to clear out the soup bowls.
As the maid left the dining room with a trolley full of empty soup bowls the Avox appeared with the main course. Time to carry on with dinner. They'll be time to deal with your daughter's dating drama later.
Demeter Snow was sitting on her bedroom floor, back against her bed, while thumbing thru fashion magazines. Since her Auntie Tigris was the most popular stylist and fashion icon Tigris, she was looking thru magazines to get ideas for her Yule Ball dress. A dress that her auntie would no doubt make for her.
The young blonde’s dog-earing a page in the magazine whenever a knock followed by her door cracking open and her father's head popping in with a simple, “Demi, it's dad. I'd like to talk.”, sounded out in the air.
“Come in “ Demeter flatly said while going back to thumbing thru her magazine.
Coriolanus walked into the room, only to frown whenever he saw the untouched food trolley near the door. “Princess, why didn't you eat?” He asked while making his way over to his daughter.
“I'm not hungry.” Demeter shrugged, flipping the page of her magazine.
The President pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low sigh before sitting down on the floor next to his only daughter. Turning to the platinum blonde girl, he sternly told her, “Demi, don't starve yourself in protest. I refuse to have any of my children go hungry, so I order you to eat your dinner once we're done talking.”
“Fine.” Demi sighed.
Coriolanus snatched the fashion magazine right out of his daughter's hands while telling her, “I don't know why you're looking at dresses for because you're not going to the Yule Ball with Seneca Crane.”
“Why not? Everyone else is going with a date. Why can't I go with a date, dad?”
“Princess, you're not like everyone else. You're the president's daughter; you're not going to the ball with a date because it's just not proper.”
“Not proper my ass.” Demi mutters under her breath.
“Excuse me, young lady, but such language is not permitted in this house.” Coriolanus scolded his favorite child. He was appalled by her actions right now. He expected her to accept his word as law, but it seems that you're right about her. She's pushing back, much like you did as a teenager.
“And you know my rules, no dating until you're 18 and have graduated the Academy. That includes balls and galas, Demeter Juniper.”
“Everyone in the districts is right about you, dad. You're such a tyrant. A damn dictator.” Demeter hatefully spat out, taking the President aback. He never thought that his little princess would say such hurtful things to him, but she did.
Blinking, Coriolanus stood up. The President’s shoulders were shaking with a mix of hurt and anger as he told his daughter, “Since I'm such a tyrant; a dictator, you're grounded, Demeter Juniper Snow, and you're not attending any balls or galas this year. Alone or with a date.”
“That's not fair!” Demeter whined as he dad went over to the door.
“Life isn't fair, princess. Maybe your mom and I have been sheltering you too much, but you don't always get things your way in life.” The president told his daughter before leaving her room.
Your husband was in a sulking mood all night while in the family room with you and the children. He didn't seem like himself and when you asked what was wrong he just waved you off; said everything was fine.
You knew otherwise.
Everything wasn't fine. Your husband was hurting and you have an idea why. Your daughter and him had words; something was said that cut him down.
Wanting to get to the bottom of things, you excused yourself with the intention of checking on Demeter. On seeing if she wanted to come down and join the family. Your husband just nodded while nursing his glass of bourbon whiskey. Your younger sons didn't say a word, being too engrossed in their chess match, while your first born son just kept his nose in his book.
So, that's how you found yourself sitting on your daughters bed, holding her while she picked at her strawberry shortcake and complained about how unfair her dad was being.
“I understand you feel like it's unfair, but your dad has his reasons for his rules. And lashing out on him, saying that the districts are right about him being a tyrant and a dictator, wasn't right, Demeter.” You firmly tell your daughter.
No wonder Coryo's sulking. You can't imagine how badly your daughter’s words have hurt your husband. Coriolanus truly believes that his pro-Capitol and strict District political policies have made Panem thrive. And, honestly, after the bullshit you experienced in the Districts during your youth, well, you side wholeheartedly with the Capitol.
With your husband.
“But-” Your daughter began to protest, only for you to cut her off with a motherly, “No buts, Demi. What you said to your dad hurt him. He only wants to keep you safe.”
As your daughter put her half-eaten dessert plate on the trolley, you told her, “Your father works hard not just to keep us safe, but to keep the Capitol and all of Panem safe. For you to say such hateful things to him isn't called for.”
“Everyone else gets to go to balls and galas with dates; I just want to be able to go too.”
“I know, honey, but it's not that simple. You’re the president's daughter; people might try to take advantage of you for that.”
“Mom, Seneca Crane's really nice. He wouldn't try to take advantage of me.” Demeter told you with such conviction. She truly believes that Seneca was just a nice guy that liked her for her.
Sighing, you told Demeter, “I’ll talk to your dad about letting you go to the Yule Ball with Seneca. But, you need to go down to the family room and apologize to him.”
“Okay.” Your daughter nodded, accepting your terms.
Later that night, you're in your large master bedroom with your husband. You're wearing one of your silky nightgowns while sitting at your vanity, doing your nightly beauty regime. Coryo's lounging on the bed you share, dressed in a pair of silky red pajamas. His platinum curls are in their natural state and he's got gold gel patches on under his eyes to prevent bags. His face is also lathered in facial creams, to keep his skin hydrated and wrinkle free during the night.
You and Coryo are in your early 40’s, have been married for 25 years now, and have 4 children- one who's 20, one who’s 15, and the others that're 11 and 9. And after all of that life experience you still find each other as handsome and beautiful as ever. Even lathered up in your nightly beauty and skincare regimens.
“Now, I've got no doubt that Seneca Crane's a nice boy- after all I knew his aunt and she had a personality to die for, but I'm not letting Demi go to that dance with him.” Coryo told you, watching you with sharp eyes, as he sat against the king-size velvet headboard.
“I thought you said that Arachne was a bitch that got a broken bottle to the throat cause she was teasing her tribute with it?” You asked, brow raised, as you finished applying your body lotion.
“I did say that.” Coryo nodded. Running a hand over his beard (which he began sporting after receiving a scar along his jaw from an attempted mine uprising during a business trip in 12 that occurred about 15 years ago), he sighed, “Maybe if it was Heavensbee’s son I'd reconsider, but a Crane?”
You picked up your silver brush and began to brush your hair. “Coryo, I know how you feel about this, but we need to trust her judgment on this.”
“But-” Coryo began, only for you to cut him off with, “No buts, Coryo. Maybe we need to let her go to the Yule Ball with Seneca. Give her a tiny bit of leeway; show her that we trust her.”
“Fine…” Coryo relented with a defeated sigh. Pointing a finger at you, he declared, “But I’m giving him one hell of a shovel talk when that boy comes to pick her up for the Yule Ball.”
And your husband was true to his word. President Coriolanus Snow gave Senaca Crane the shovel talk of all shovel talks. In fact, Seneca was so nervous after that talk that he barely even looked at Demeter. In fact, after the Yule Ball he never talked to her again; made excuses to not be around her, etc.
Safe to say that President Coriolanus Snow scared away his daughter's first potential boyfriend. It could've been worse. At least he didn't poison the boy.
So, after the Yule Ball and the failed date with Seneca Crane, Demeter Snow went back to worrying about her studies and fashion. She didn't bring up the topic of dating again, much to her dad’s relief.
But in 3 years time President Snow would have to deal with his daughter falling for her tribute, but that's a story for another day.
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#coriolanus snow#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#coriolanus snow x reader#thg#coryo snow#tbosas fanfiction#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus fanfiction#young president snow#president coriolanus snow#coryo snow x reader#coryo x reader#coryo snow x you#coryo snow fanfiction#coriolanus fic#coriolanus x you#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x you#coryo x you#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth#coriolanus snow x female!reader#tbosas fic#thg fanfiction
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RAVAGE
pairing: dark!president!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.
warnings: possessiveness, murder, robbery, bad smut, controlling, tears, babying, kisses, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, kinda subby corio/dom, praise, sense of entitlement? breeding kink, tummy bulge, overstimulation, little bit of aftercare
word count: 2k
a/n: i’m such a bitch for making everyone wait so long for a delicate part two 😌 and i finally have the confidence for smut so heheh - yes i’m using tvd names a lot - corio/coryo use - tried out a new layout 👀
part one of delicate
you couldn’t believe it.
coriolanus snow, president of panem.
all of his hard work has finally paid off and you couldn’t be more happy for him. you wanted to give him a gift but you still had no idea what he would want. it seemed the two of you practically had everything overnight, so a measly gift seemed to be difficult to acquire, one that he liked? even harder.
so you’d decided to go out, the idea of surprising him exciting you so much you’d forgotten to tell coriolanus where you were going to.
so imagine his surprise when his assistant told him you’d left the house, viewing you on the security cameras.
which you had no idea were there.
coriolanus saw it as an act of defiance.
he had to move about this correctly, he couldn’t have you injured, but he needed to scare you back into his arms. to remind you of the horrible place that panem was.
over twelve stores, and nothing. so you’d decided to enlist the help of one of your few friends. “not a single clue of what he’d want?” elena asked as you stabbed at your fries, “nope.” you answered as you placed a fry in your mouth.
“well if he has absolutely everything then his gorgeous wife should be a nice gift after an extremely long day no?” you looked up at her, confused, “what do you mean?” she giggled, “oh god, i forget how you don’t know that much. you, y/n.” at your adorable puppy face she leaned in, “your body.” you jumped back at her words, “i… i’ve never.”
“you’ve never?!” elena slapped her hand over her mouth at your admission, “how? i mean you’re absolutely stunning sweetheart, how hasn’t he yet?” you played with the table cloth in your hands, “i don’t know.” elena twisted her fork around her pasta, “okay has he never made a move, or, have you never noticed the signs?” you took a sip of your wine as you stared back at her, “what signs?” elena sighed, rubbing her temple, “there are signs, moments. the two of you, sitting on the couch and his hand trails higher. his breath quickens at the sight of you in a dress. the little things.”
“and what happens if you notice these signs, act on them?” and this was exactly her expertise, she wiped her face with her napkin before paying the bill. “if i’m going to explain this in detail then we need to go to my house. or a dirtier part of town. my dear girl, i’m taking you to your first ever bar.”
coriolanus has to hold on to his mask of self-restraint, you’d been spotted at a bar, with one of your friends that he despised. but at least his plan could take full effect without a hitch.
your mind had been blown, irrevocably and utterly blown. the way elena had described it all, she made it sound like heaven. but she did tell you about other men, some care for themselves more so than the girl. and you had no clue what type of man corio was in bed.
you’d been so absorbed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man following you, not until he attacked you. he’d been going after your bag of course, but it was a gift from coriolanus. the man was unrelenting as he shoved you against the cold wall, grimy hands pushing and pulling with you as you tried to regain hold of your purse. “let go!” you cried out before he slammed you into the wall again, loosing grip on the purse coriolanus had just gifted you.
what would he say? it was his gift to you!
you woke up with a throbbing headache and corios hands brushing away strands from your face. “there you are sweet thing. you feeling okay?” you peered up at him, unable to move due to the millions of blankets on you. noticing your struggle he smiled before shifting them off, “better?” you nodded before sitting up with his help.
“corio, i lost the bag you gave me. the bad guy he- i’m so so sorry. please don’t be mad with me i didn’t mean to-“ he laughed, although it didn’t reach his eyes, “you think i care about the bag y/n/n? i could buy you a million bags, better bags. i’m just glad you’re okay. those guys, they won’t bother you again.” all you could do was sob and hug him, pondering the meaning of his words.
AN HOUR AGO
“hey, what the hell man? you said to attack the girl and take the bag!” the man shouted as coriolanus undid his cuffs, adjusted his sleeve, pushing it back on both arms. “i told you to go for the bag, yes. but i specifically remember drilling it into your head not to hurt her. and now she’s lying in bed, has been for the past three house with bruises everywhere. and for that?”
shouts and screams of pain echoed through the abandoned building as coriolanus struck the man with a hammer, over and over and over. the job had one guideline. and this idiot couldn’t get it right.
don’t hurt his delicate girl.
PRESENT
you’d been so absorbed with worrying over the purse and apologising for your tears you hadn’t noticed corios hungry eyes. “i really did like that purse.” he murmured, “oh corio, i should’ve tried harder to keep it. what can i do?” hook, line and sinker. he had you where he wanted and he’d finally get what he deserved.
“let me fuck you. please.” and who were you to say no? your naivety led to him laying you down on the bed, head between your thighs. you’d heard about it from elena, a man pleasuring a woman, but it was a million times better than you could’ve imagined. coriolanus was messy, and desperate. he’d been waiting for so long and god was it worth it.
his heart raced with both excitement and nervousness as he held your thighs in his own hands, tracing up and downwards, feeling the warmth against his own skin. coriolanus couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you. “you wanna cum?” corio mumbled as he continued sucking on your swollen clit, “mhm.” you could hear him laughing at your pathetic excuse of agreeing.
coriolanus wholeheartedly believes you belong to him. the second you were married, and even before, you were his. your submission would prove it, and he would do anything for it. you were his and he was yours. his bold blue eyes ravished you, all of you, “who’s making you feel this good?” your hips squirmed away from him but he just pulled you back, pushing two fingers into you.
corio reveled in your naivety, the way you responded to his touch, the way you whispered dirty words as if it were a sin. and right now, you still couldn’t bring yourself to name what you needed. his pace was brutal as he lapped at your cunt, a third finger curling inside of you as they went in and out. your gasps and cries were music to his ears, he’d been denied this all too long, and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever done it. “cmon, say it.” and you did, over and over again. “it’s you! you, coryo.”
“coryo, ah, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more trying to lean into his touch. coryo withdrew his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around your sensitive nub that resulted in you crying out in pleasure.
“such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” you nodded along dumbly, “for you, all you.” you babbled as he kissed you deeply.
coryos hand dragged up and down your folds, “your pussy is soaked, baby. look at that,” you whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. coryo pulled his pants down, throwing them away over his shoulder. you hid your head into the pillow as coryo tutted, “you have to look pretty girl, look at the mess you made.” coryo taunted as he rubbed your slick juices all over his dick, trying to humiliate you, get a rise out of you. coryos hand holds onto your neck, tightening as you clutched on with both hands, “please, coryo, i’ll be so good.” he rested his forehead on yours, noses touching.
“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he whispered in your ear, “my beautiful wife, you’d look so good with my baby in you.” the idea of having his baby had you pressing your lips to his as he bit down on your lower lip, making you gasp as your lips part, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring every bit of you he’d ever wished to. his hunger hadn’t fallen, only increased.
“ i need to fuck you,” he panted, you having stolen his breath. coryo teased your folds with the head of his cock, “need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushed into you, warm walls coating his cock as he groaned, “you feel so good.” he moaned into your neck as your hands clutched onto his broad shoulders. he wasn’t sure if he’d last long but then again he didn’t care, it’s not like you knew it was a short time.
the way you clenched down on him was more than enough proof of your virginity. your cries fueled him on as he pinned your hips down into the mattress, rutting against you wildly. “you feel that?” he was everywhere, filling you up. his dick making an appearance through the bulge in your tummy. “uh-huh. too much i can’t-” he stopped you before you could finish by pressing down on it with his palm, “yes you can baby.” you shook your head, “coryo i can’t, you feel too good.” you begin, crying from how good he was making you feel, from how dumb and desperate he was making you.
“m’ gonna fill you up, gonna give you my baby.” he was driving you crazy, his heavy panting, hands on either side of your head, his voice was deep and filled with fire. “yes, yes please inside me.” coryo’s eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed you were too much, fuelled on by the idea of a pregnant wife, pregnant you. swollen belly, heavy breasts, relying on him to help you out of bed. his hips stuttered and faltered as he came inside you with a low groan. he didn’t care about pulling out and neither did you as your release came down on you again. “feels so good coryo, thank you.”
he couldn’t help his smile as you continued to thank him for making you feel so good. his ego was sure as hell swelling as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed. his hand caressed your face, kissing you all over, praising you.
“you did so well f’me. proud of you baby.” you grinned up at him as you snuggled into his neck. “only for you coryo.” all for him. “i’ll clean you up okay?” you nodded along as he got out of bed.
coriolanus deemed the night a success, but for some reason he didn’t feel complete. he wanted more. but as he looked up at your sleepy eyes and tired out body he wanted to let you rest. but the idea seemed to slip out of his head once he was levelled with your core again, his release spilling out of you and the warm towel forgotten. he didn’t stop himself when he began to lick at you, his tongue working his way into your entrance as your head shoved at his face.
“coryo, i’m sensitive. coryo please stop.” you attempted to crawl away but his hands dragged you to the edge of the bed, legs around his head. your body fell limp against the sheets as pleasure took over. your hands laced with his hair as you cried out.
it was going to be a long night.
#hunger games x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus x reader#dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader#dark!coriolanus snow#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#yandere coriolanus snow#yandere coriolanus snow x reader#hunger games fic#coriolanus snow fic
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coryo who has had next to no experience with a woman, besides the occasional kiss here and there, so when you start dating you know you have to take things relatively slow. he’s like a puppy learning to walk. it starts off with makeout sessions, becoming hungrier and full of tension as time goes on. he’s grabby, unsure of what to do with his hands as you straddle his lap, but knows you like it when he cups the back of your thighs. his tongue is soft, and smooth, against your own. swirling too fast but learning to slow it down. he eventually gets the hang of it and before you know it, he’s bending you over his desk and filling you up so well. towering over you as you quiver beneath his touch. the teacher becoming the student as he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. explores your body in ways they have never been sought after. you can’t keep your hands off of each other but that’s the way you like it !
#— ꒰ ‧ ₊˚ vee daydreams ˖꙳‧ ꒱#coriolanus snow ᰔ#— not sfw ! ᰔ#coriolanus snow concept#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x y/n#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus fic#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x you#coriolanus smut
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Teachers Pet ..
warnings 🎀 nsfw 18+ skip if uncomfortable !! make sure to send in requests so i can get them done by tonight
Professor!Snow x Fem Student!Reader
Coriolanus Snow, a renowned professor in the Capitols university. He was respected and feared by his students, not only for his intelligence but also for his stern demeanor.
Among these students was a young, ambitious woman, you. You were intelligent, hardworking, and always managed to catch Professor Snow's eye. Despite the significant age gap, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to him—not just academically but also personally.
One fateful evening, after an especially long day at the library, you found yourself alone in your dorm room. Your thoughts drifted towards Professor Snow, his piercing gaze, and the way he'd lecture passionately about subjects that left you breathless.
" I wish he'd notice me more " you sighed wistfully, running a hand through your hair. Just then, there was a light knock on your door. Your heart raced as you wondered who it could be—especially at this hour.
Opening the door, you found yourself face-to-face with Professor Snow. His eyes were intense, boring into yours, and for a moment, you thought you might melt under his gaze. He whispered your name, his voice rough and demanding. " I need you. "
Swallowing hard, you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and before you could even process what was happening, he pulled you roughly against his body. His lips crashed down on yours, his possession claiming you as his own.
You groaned into the kiss, your body melting against his as he consumed you with his passion and desire. Your kisses deepened, your tongues dancing wildly as he slowly began to lead you towards the bed.
You felt a surge of emotions coursing through your veins—excitement, fear, anticipation. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, desperate for more. As you reached the edge of the bed, he broke the kiss, gasping for air.
His eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with lust, his breathing labored. He let out a whisper of your name, his voice hoarse from your intense encounter. " I've wanted this for so long. "
" Please, Professor " you murmured, your voice shaking with need. Without another word, he pushed you down onto the bed, following you with his body. His rough hands roamed over your skin, possessively claiming every inch of you.
You whimpered as he slid his hands under your shirt, tearing it away. His rough fingers trailed over your sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in your wake.
" Please " you moaned, arching your back towards him. His lips found your neck, teeth grazing softly as he nipped at your flesh. His other hand slipped between your legs, finding you already wet and eager for him.
" Oh god " you gasped as he touched you, his fingers expertly teasing your sensitive spot. You writhed beneath him, your body aching for release.
With one swift motion, he pushed his pants down and freed his hard length. It stood tall against his belly, throbbing with need. He positioned himself at your entrance, nudging against your tight folds.
" God, you're so tight " he groaned, burying his head in your neck. And then, with a force that surprised even him, he pushed inside you, filling you completely. Your tightness gripped him like a vice, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body.
You cried out, arching your back again. It felt so good—painful but in a way that made you crave more. He started to move inside you, his powerful strokes driving you both closer to the edge.
The room was a blur of heat and lust as you moved together, your bodies perfectly in sync. Your moans filled the air as you bucked against him, meeting each of his thrusts with a grind of your hips.
His hands found your breasts again, pinching and pulling on your nipples as he grew more forceful. You could feel him getting closer, the head of his cock brushing against your sensitive entrance with each powerful thrust.
" I'm close " you whispered, your voice shaky with anticipation.
" Come for me, Doll " he growled, his voice low and demanding. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside you, your moans filling the room as you both climaxed.
You collapsed against him, panting heavily. You lay there, entwined, your hearts racing in perfect unison. This was what you’d been longing for, it was more than just a professor and a student; it was a connection that went beyond the classroom.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus show x y/n#coriolanus snow drabble#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus smut#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x y/n#coriolanus drabble#coriolanus fanfic#coriolanus fic#smut#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth smut#tom blyth x you#billy the kid smut#billy the kid x you#fem!reader
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academy coryo waiting for you at your locker at the end of the day so he can walk you home 🫶🏻 (let me live in ooc coryo world)
I like that :( I think canon coryo would do it imo
he’s had this plan all day, after overhearing how you hate the walk to your penthouse because none of your friends live that way so you have to walk alone and Coryo just decides he’ll walk you, even though he lives like opposite direction.
So he’s by your locker, and he’s thinking about how he’s crushing on you but he also doesn’t wanna make it too obvious but then again, he’s literally waiting outside your locker, like that says something.
But before he even has time to keep spiraling about it and chicken out, you’re there, greeting him kindly as you always do, and he asks you about class, not even hearing your answer because he’s thinking about how he’s gonna word his next sentence. Coryo is so good at putting on a front though, to you, he’s so calm, so collected, sure of himself, a tad cocky but not in a bad way. Inside he’s going crazy.
And he finally gets out his question about walking you home, which you take with a smile, knowing he doesn’t live near there. LIKE TEASING HIM ABOUT IT and Coryo flushes and makes up some lie about visiting a jewelry store for his Grandma’am and you don’t believe it but you let him get away with it
#coryoasks#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow drabble#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus fic#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow fluff
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