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eloves-writes · 5 months

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careful who you’re talking to

[coriolanus snow x reader]

desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni

it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.

especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.

you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.

“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.

coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.

“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”

snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”

“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”

festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”

coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.

the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.

he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.

festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”

oh you’ll hear it alright.

“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”

on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.

“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.

he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.

“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.

“what?”

“you heard me.”

either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.

“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.

“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”

you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.

“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”

“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.

“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.

“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.

coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”

a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”

he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”

“am i yours?”

he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”

“i’m yours.”

“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.

you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.

“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.

he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.

“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.

he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.

corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.

you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”

you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.

coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.

your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.

snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.

you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.

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fear-is-truth · 1 month

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“i can fix him”

ok welcome to the construction crew

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lex-the-flex · 5 months

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A Touch of Red

Coriolanus Snow x reader

Summary: Shortly before the Reaping Ceremony, Snow surprises you with an interesting touch.

Word Count: 510

Warning(s): None, just pure fluff!

A/N: Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

Huffing through the Academy’s main entrance, Snow couldn’t seem to catch a break from anything. His mind was racing, his adrenaline pumping rapidly through his veins, but most of all: he was hungry. The sounds of stomach bounced off his eardrums. And he didn’t desire food.

No, all he truly wanted was to find you. He craved the need to be by your side, especially on a day like today. After a few minutes of silently watching his other classmates in the hall, Snow ran his fingers through his blonde curls, feeling instantly defeated.

Then suddenly, the sound of your laughter broke out, and he bounced right back up. Following the noise through another adjacent hall, Snow found you enjoying yourself with Clemensia. Making his way over, you caught sight of him and playfully gasped.

“Wow, look at you, Coryo! You look amazing!” You exclaim.

Reaching to touch the fabric of his vest, he gracefully watched your hand carefully caress over the soft fabric before joking about the buttons.

“Is that?” Clemensia asks, adjusting her gaze.

“Tile.” Snow replies with a smile.

“Well you look dashing. I honestly think you’re the best dressed person here.” You announce, crossing your arms.

“Thank you, Y/N. You look lovely as ever. Um, do you mind if I have a moment alone with Ms. L/N, Clem?” Snow asks, ignoring his hot cheeks.

“Not at all. I need to get a new drink before the Ceremony starts.” She replies before leaving.

Watching her walk away, your eyes meet back with Snow’s, but you don’t have time to think as he takes your breath away by pressing his lips onto yours. Backing you into the hallway’s pillar, the faint sound of your lips molding together was music to his ears. Pressing your hands to his chest, Snow squeezed his grip around your shoulders, wanting to hold you closer.

But the buzz of the lights flickering overhead meant it was showtime. Slowly breaking the kiss, he huffed in annoyance at having to say goodbye to you.

“I’ll see you after the Reaping.” You mumble.

“I promise. I won’t let the tributes give me a hard time.” He whispers.

“You better not. I’ve missed you, Coryo.” You reply.

Glancing back towards the main hall, Snow quickly searches his pockets before eventually opening his bag. Closing his hands around your palm, he drops something against your skin. Opening your hand, the sight of a red ruby lies inside.

“Coriolanus Snow, where on Earth did you get this?” You ask, frantically looking back at him.

“Don’t worry, it’s a fake sweetheart. But no one has to know.” He answers, closing his bag.

Quickly kissing you once more, he smiles with a wink, and makes his way to the Reaping Ceremony.

snow taglist ~

@dreamliners

@xplore-the-unknwn

@princessismx

@caffess

@writing-fanics

@wetsandpaperroll

@aemvnd

@ghostfacd

@lovelybeesthings

@eternally-passionate

#president snow #coryo snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x you #Coriolanus snow x y/n #Coriolanus snow fluff #Coriolanus snow fic #Coriolanus snow fanfic #tom blyth #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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thecharacterchronicler · 2 months

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There Will Come A Ruler (1) || Coriolanus Snow x Reader (+18)

Outline: You agreed to a marriage of convenience with Coriolanus Snow to please your parents and be an asset in his campaign to become the new president of Panem. On your first wedding anniversary, the man who you barely spend time with and hardly know, tells you that he wants you to give him a heir.

Word count: 3’938

Warnings: pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, explicit smut (+18)

(( Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top )) - ((Part 3 - Insatiable ))

You sat at your vanity, adjusting the necklace of pearls around your neck. The reflection in the mirror showed such an elegant woman, with the poise and grace expected of a future First Lady. You had even managed to master the art of making your fake smiles appear real, leading on everyone to believe that you were living a dream, even though things were nothing like what you’d let on in front of the people of Panem.

You repowdered your face, and brushed your hair to make sure you looked flawless before taking a deep breath and leaving the intimacy of your bedroom, the one only you slept in, to go downstairs and join your husband for dinner.

Tonight was one of the few nights he wasn’t working late or had a business dinner or event to attend. Those nights dining in your manor, just the two of you without any guests always felt strange since they were so unusual. You had a cook and a waiter, employees hired to serve you and care for everything so that the only thing expected from you was to show up, dressed and polished for the occasion. Not that Coriolanus would have noticed if you had showed up for this dinner in your pajamas and messy hair, he’d usually be too busy reading the newspaper or writing his next speech to even look at you during the meal. Then, you’d retire back to your bedroom and he would stay working late in his office until he too, would go back to his room, at the far opposite of yours in the opulent manor you resided in.

It had been a year of this routine, ignoring each other unless there were some peering eyes to scrutinize you or some important people to impress. You couldn’t say you were unhappy because what was there to complain about ? You lived in a gorgeous house, you had the privileges associated with being a powerful man’s wife and you were free to spend your days and money as you pleased, the only rule being to never, ever, do anything that could reflect badly on your politician of a husband. Days were sweet and easy. A lot more than what you had imagined when you were told that your parents had agreed for you to marry a complete stranger, just because it was an honor and a wonderful opportunity to be chosen as the fiancée of one of the most important people in Panem. The fact that you had never talked to Coriolanus Snow once before didn’t matter, the papers were signed and three days later, you found yourself walking down the aisle to a blond man, dressed in white as you were, to vow each other love and support until death brought you apart in front of a crowd of cameras, reporters and nosy onlookers.

You made your way to the dining room. With its large windows, it offered one of the best views on the garden and greenhouse, which were always well taken care of, not a single strand of grass out of line or a single rose withering without being cut off of its branch. The furnitures were simple, yet luxurious and the long table was perfect for you to sit at opposite ends from your husband. It was much easier for you to ignore each other, separated by two rows of empty seats and various dishes and platters scattered across the table.

The cook always made five courses meals , with refined food and expensive wine , and although it was only the two of you, tonight was no exception. The hors d’œuvres and entrees had been served already, red wine filling the crystal glasses on each end of the glass table. However, one thing wasn’t right…

“Mrs Snow.” Your husband greeted you, with the same politically warm smile you had mastered to do too by taking example on him.

You stopped on your way to your seat, unsure of what to expect. Despite the few meals you had shared in privacy, he had never been waiting for you standing by the window, with a glass in hand and a gorgeous rose in the other . Nor had he been so perfectly dressed and groomed for such an occasion. Usually, you could tell he had spent a long day working or attending events, his clothes always classy but his light hair frequently tousled and light purple lines under his eyes. This time though, it looked like he had dressed and prepared himself just for you, wearing his best suit and his blond locks perfectly combed back.

“Mister Snow.” You replied, observing him with a sucpicious expression.

“Happy anniversary.” He said, taking the few steps that still separated him from you to hand you the white rose he held. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, something definitely wasn’t right as he never had such caring gestures towards you if they weren’t witnessed by others. But you took the rose, politely thanking him. And surveyed the room carefully in search of a camera or an important guest you might have missed… But you didn’t find anything to justify his odd behavior. “I asked the chef to make your favorite dish for the occasion.”

You knew Coriolanus had no idea what it was, but the fact that he had been so thoughtful to ask should have been enough.

He pulled your chair for you, like the perfect gentleman he was but never bothered to be if it didn’t benefit his image, and you sat at the table, taking in the carefully presented trays of all the things you liked to eat in front of you.

The waiter entered to serve both of you, because since you became Mrs Snow, you apparently weren’t required to do the most basic things, such as filling your own plate with food yourself anymore.

Coriolanus raised his glass of wine to you, proposing to toast to the first of many years together before drinking a long sip out of his beverage. You knew you didn’t have a choice but to do the same, as etiquette dictated it, but his sudden acknowledgment of your existence was enough to make you want to throw your glass at his face and demand he told you what he was up to. But of course, you knew better than to cause a scene, even in privacy.

“I’m sure you’ll be glad to know sixty percent of the voters are favoring me for presidency.” He stated, with a proud smile you couldnt quite tell if real or forced. “Gaul says that with a few more efforts, I should be able to gain the majority, and then I’ll unquestionably win the elections.”

“That’s wonderful.” You replied, truly hoping Coriolanus will be elected to rule over Panem. It was the only thing he wanted and cared about, you didn’t want to imagine the depth of his misery if he didn’t make it. You also might have not known your husband intimately at all but, since you often had to accompany him for official duties, you had learned a thing or two about the way he’d address important business. “Is there anything I can do to help ?”

You saw him smile at your question. A genuine smile, letting you know you were asking exactly what he was hoping you would.

“Well, according to the surveys, I seem to have convinced most of the older electors . However, one part of the population seems to still have doubts about my program.” He explained, while the waiter refilled his glass of wine. “Apparently, families don’t believe I have their best interest at heart.”

“A few more events centered around children and education and I’m sure they’ll be acquired to your cause.” You said, understanding that he probably meant to ask you to accompany him more often to those, as a proof that he cared enough.

“Surely, but Gaul also suggested we start a family of our own to appear more relatable.”

You swallowed your wine with difficulty, the bitterness burning down your throat at his words. Your chest tightened, your heart pounding wildly.

“We agreed on having our first child after five years of marriage.” You reminded him, and by the way his pale eyes focused on you, you knew you were about to start an important business negotiation with him.

“Unfortunately, I need the support of these voters now, not in five years.”

“We signed a contract that detailed this topic very clearly.”

“And in that contract, you vowed to support me in my endeavors and give me two heirs at minimum. I don’t think getting started on our family now instead of later will make much of a difference to you.”

“You are asking me to carry and birth a baby but it won’t make much of a difference to me ?!” You snapped, raising your voice louder than you should have.

“What I meant to say is that you’re going to have to do it sooner or later. Might as well be now so you’re done with this part of your duty. It would benefit me greatly, and you too.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from shouting at him. The way he was so detached about it all made you unreasonably angry. You had agreed to give him children and he was right, you knew that sooner or later you’d have to get it over with but in all honesty, it wasn’t the idea of being pregnant that gave you anxiety but the thought of what you had to do in order to achieve that.

You were good at putting up a show for the public, pretending to be perfectly in love and happy together but in truth, you didn’t even know this man. He was a stranger, living in the same house as you and that was about it. Imagining anything more intimate with him seemed preposterous.

“I’ll need to think about it.” You told him, and he nodded quietly. He was gracious enough to accept that answer for now but you knew he’d have things his way, wether you agreed or not.

●○●○●○●○●○●

You spent a sleepless night tossing and turning in your satin sheets, mulling over Coriolanus’ request. Damn Dr. Gaul and her bright ideas ! It already was her fault if you had been chosen to be Mister Snow’s perfect wife, an honor in the eyes of most but it felt oddly similar to being picked as a tribute and sent into the arena to you. You didn’t have much say in what you wanted then, you knew you didn’t have anymore to say now. You really were faced with only two choices; either agree and conceive a child, either take the risk of being replaced by a more willing - and less opiniated - new wife.

It took you until the next evening to finally accept that you only had one resonable answer to give him. Unfortunately, the hours seemed to pass by way too slowly since Coriolanus wasn’t home for supper that night, leaving you alone in the empty dining room with your thoughts. You had waited for him for a while, enjoying the cosy living room as night fell over the Capitol until you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore and fell asleep on the teal sofa by the chimney.

When you woke up, the flames that had kept you warm were merly embers. You hadn’t noticed the difference in temperature, thanks to one of the house employees who had been thoughtful enough to cover you with a warm wool blanket. You rose up and stretched, deciding to finish your night in the comfort of your bed but when you walked passed your husband’s office, you noticed a light seeping from underneath the door.

After a gentle knock, you tentatively turned the knob to enter the room you had never been in before. Just like his bedroom, his office usually was a place you avoided in order to keep the distances between the two of you when you didn’t have to fake a happy marriage for others.

You weren’t too surprised by the luxurious items that decorated the room, the white couch and the very large desk in the center of the room were very much in Coriolanus’s style; classic and elegant. But what really caught your attention in this unknown territory was the man behind the desk, dishelved, with his tie undone and the first few buttons of his shirt opened. In a year of living together, you had never seen your husband look so… common.

“You’re awake.” He remarked, leaning back in his armchair and rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“And so are you.”

“I usually don’t go to bed before three or four o’clock.”

You glanced at the clock on the mantel of his fireplace, indicating three twenty five. You quickly did the math, realizing how little sleep he got since most days, when you got up and had breakfast at seven in the morning, he always already was off to his other office in town.

“Don’t you think you might be overworking yourself ?” You asked him, finally daring to fully step inside the room and approach his desk.

“It’s better than having nightmares.” He confessed, matter of factly before looking away from you, as if he hadn’t meant to say something so personal to you. “Did you need something ?”

You stopped in front of the white desk, standing with your thighs pressed against the edge. Even sitting, he still looked quite taller than you.

“I’d like a whole new wardrobe designed by Fabricia Whatnot, a pond in the greenhouse with koi fishes and to add some shelves to the library with more up to date books, mostly romance.”

Coriolanus’ intrigued pale blue eyes observed you, the ghost of an amused smile on his lips.

“And what will I get in exchange of all of this ?” He asked, although his smirk showed he already knew the answer.

“A heir.” You replied, with the satisfaction of at least gaining the most you could ask for out of the deal. His smile grew wider, and you wondered if it was a genuine one. It had to be. It seemed so much warmer than his other ones…

“Then you’ll get everything you want, sweetheart.” You smiled at him, genuinely happy with this outcome although the perspective of what was meant to happen next still terrified you.

He stood from his chair, eyes remaining fixed on you as he walked around his desk to join you on the other side. You felt a shiver run up your spine once he was close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his skin onto yours.

With a hand on each of your hips, he lifted you up to sit you down on the edge of his desk. He looked down at you, his face so close to yours and even if it caused your heartbeat to go wild, you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. He never did.

Instead, he finished unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, revealing his unexpectedly muscular chest, a vague testament left of his previous life as a peacekeeper in the districts.

He placed his white shirt on the desk next to you, careful to fold it neatly enough to avoid creasing before focusing his attention back on you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his hands on you again, first against the bare skin of your legs and slowly but unmistakably making their way up to your thighs, bringing your skirt up in their wake. A ragged breath escape your lips when his fingers trailed the elastic of your underwear, exploring the shape of it by following its lines until suddenly, the warmth and roughness of his fingers had slipped under the fabric and pressed directly on your skin.

He reached between your legs rather gently, a finger slipping between your folds and softly tracing a few lines connecting your entrance to your clit He was being considerate enough to take things slow and prepare you for him, which was something you strangely didn’t expect him to do. Well to be fair, in all twelve months you had been Coriolanus Snow’s wife, you hadn’t given much thoughts to what intimacy might be like with him. Of course, you knew it would have to happen eventually, you had signed a contract after all but you usually avoided fantasizing about it.

You knew Coriolanus probably had an abundance of mistresses to please him whenever he wanted - or needed - them. He was a very good looking man. You knew that already, but seeing him as he was tonight, without much care to his appearance, was yet another proof of how devastatingly handsome he could be.

You liked the way he caressed you, it was the most intimate touch you had ever shared together, and it somehow felt nice to connect with him. But it also was pretty obvious that, even in a situation such as this one, he still was very much in control of himself and of every aspect of what was happening. It was unfair. If he was asking you to let go and was slowly but surely awakening your desire for him with the way his finger still circled your center, he might as well abandon his pretenses and enjoy it too.

Determined to help, you reached out for his pants, unbuttoning them before he could protest and pulling out the hardened length of his cock out of his underwear. It was so rigid and warm in your hand, dark veins running all along his shaft up to his pale tip, which was slightly glistening already. You looked back at him unable to conceal your surprise at how ready he was for you already. You hadn’t done anything to get him in the mood, nor had you removed a single piece of clothing yet but he already seemed to be throbbing with desire with the simple anticipation of what was about to happen.

You ran your thumb over his tip, collecting a drop of his precum with a blush creeping to your cheeks. He stared at you as you did, refusing to let any emotions show on his face but unable to stop himself from shuddering. It helped you feel more confident. With a soft smile for him, you used your other hand to undo the bow around your waist, which held your dress together. It came undone by itself, revealing your chest to him which caused his eyes to darken slightly.

A silent struggle seemed to take place in his mind, hesitating between following his plan as he had imagined it, methodically proceeding in order to procreate or giving in to the violent pulsion of pure lust he felt at the sight of your gorgeous body , taking you like a wild animal rather than pretending to be a gentleman.

You huffed in surprise when you felt his finger slip once more into your wetness before he pushed it inside you, as deeply as it could go. In return, you pumped his cock a few times, enjoying the sight of him trying to resist the pleasure it instantly gave him. He moved his finger in and out of you in synch with your own movements along his shaft before deciding that you were stretched enough to add another one and try to expand you a bit more. You moaned and immediately bite your lip to silence yourself, if he was being careful to not lose control over any of this then you were determined to do the same. But the way he smirked with satisfaction as the sound of your whimper of exctasy when he added a third finger inside you almost caused you to climax already.

You lifted your hips up, trying to move your body and get him to hit even deeper inside you which seemed to amuse him. He liked the way you were slowly starting to lose your mind over the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you.

You gently tugged on his erection still firmly squeezed in your fist, attempting to bring him closer so that he would understand that you were more than ready to take him, as big as he was.

His fingers left you, your walls pulsing with a need for more but instead of his cock pushing past your entrance, it’s his lips savagely crashing against yours that you felt. It was a messy kiss, full of unspoken words and concealed passion finally pouring out. A kiss that was nothing like the chaste, picture perfect, kiss you had shared on your wedding day.

The next moment, his lips were gone and he yanked you to the edge of his desk by a tight grip on your wet panties. They teared under the pressure of his movement and, with the fabric out of his way, all he had left to do was press his hips between your legs spread opened and slam his cock inside you. It was so sudden, your eyes rolled back with the intensity of it all for a moment.

A panted breath escaped his lips, letting you know you felt as good to him as he felt to you. He was trying to stay focused on you, trying to keep his first few thrusts slow and long but as soon as you moaned, the last of his restrain dissolved and he slammed himself back in, shoving his entire length inside you and hitting deep where you so desperately needed to feel him.

With one hand on your hip and the other reaching for your bra, he rocked you in rythym with his blunt thrusts and you definitely gave up on staying silent, letting your loud noises fill his office and probably resonate in the entire manor.

Your body tensed, clenching his cock so hard that you felt it even deeper and it sent you off the edge. Your legs trembled and your vision blurred as a wave of exceptional pleasure took hold of your entire being, making you feel dizzy and satisfied all at once. No matter the strength of the orgasm shaking your body, your husband kept thrusting abruptly in and out of you at the same pace for a bit longer until you felt his warm release filling you up and he collapsed in your arms, panting.

You brought your hands to his soft blond hair, gently playing with his curls as you kept your eyes shut and tried to regain your senses, your legs still shaking and your core still pulsating around him.

A moment went by during which you almost felt close to the stranger you had married, like you finally knew a very intimate part of him but as soon as he had managed to catch his breath, he pulled out of you and regained his flawless, controlled composure.

“Do you think it worked ?” You asked him, still lightly panting.

He put his softening erection back in his pants and reached for his shirt before taking back his place behind his desk.

“I think we should keep trying, just to be sure.” He replied, with a glance at you that clearly betrayed the excitement he felt at the idea of doing it all again with you.

Next in this series:

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #corio snow #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow smut #tbosas #smut #smutty fanfiction #coryo snow #president snow #snow smut #tbosas smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #spicy content

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leviathanspain · 5 months

Note

hii 💌 can I request some angst with president!coryo & victor!reader, same plot line as tbosas basically, he was once her mentor & now she’s his first lady

except the quarter quell with former victors happens earlier & he deliberately leaves her name out but she ends up volunteering instead

his first lady

coriolanus snow x victor!reader

synopsis: after years of hiding from the public, ashamed of your past and your husband, you discover the only way to end this, is with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he had lost his mind.

in the five years since your games, you had married the man who had given dr. gaul the ideas and tools to continue with the annual hunger games. he had also been the man to mentor you, showing you to an audience to get them to love you, simultaneously he fell in love with you.

he was powerful, you knew you couldn’t reject his advances, not while you were stuck behind the bars of the capital zoo. so you held his hand, listened to everything he said, winning as he promised you would.

only then did you hope that his attention on you would end, and you would be free to return home to your district, to put this part of your life behind…

except it haunted you, every day, every waking moment.

you never returned home, you never saw your parents again after being reaped, he became president, and you became his wife; his first lady.

and now, president snow stood on that stage, smile blazing as he announced that the fifteenth annual hunger games would reap its tributes, from the existing pool of victors.

he had truly lost his mind.

you gripped tigris’ arm as you watched coryo on the screen. he had just announced the changes, and you were left shocked.

tigris gulped, “i doubt he would leave your name in there.” she comforted you, “he would never do that-“ she paused, and you knew it was hesitation.

you stared at the screen, watching as the symbol of panem graced the screen, and you knew he would be home soon.

you shook your head, still in disbelief. you didn’t know what to think, coriolanus’ morality scale had gotten worse as the years went by and more power came, you were unsure what he would do to anyone, let alone you.

he loved you, more than you loved him. you never forgave him for what he did to sejanus, and coriolanus knew that, but he had made it known that as long as you were alive, he would never divorce you. his little loose end.

this could be the means to an end. if coriolanus was as smart as he was told, he would leave your name in, hope for the possibility to send you to your death, tying his loose end completely.

tigris stared as you grabbed the tv clicker, clicking the buttons to turn off the awful song that blasted with the logo. it wasn’t working, tigris tried to help you with it but your frustration over the games led you to slam the clicker into the tv screen, promptly breaking the screen.

coriolanus came home to a dark house. all the lights had been shut off, and he could still smell tigris’ perfume, lingering in the living room.

he set his bag down, taking off his coat and laying it down on the couch. he could see light emanating from the bedroom, and he could hear your soft singing.

coryo smiled, slowly walking down the hall, pushing the half cracked door open, seeing you on the bed. your nightshirt hung off your shoulder slightly, and your hair was loose. you looked beautiful, in the dim candlelight.

“my lady.” he greeted softly, bed dipping as he sat on his side. you turned, closing the novel you had been reading. you smiled softly, “coriolanus.” he frowned slightly, going in to give you a kiss, but you turned around to put your book away, effectively dodging his kiss.

“you’re upset.” he knew it immediately, you never called him coriolanus, not unless you were mad at him. usually he was called coriolanus every hunger games, as long as each games lasted. he had known eventually it would start up again, but this was far too early.

you didn’t say anything, opting to shrug as you stood up, pulling the sheets up.

coriolanus watched you get into the bed, snuggling into the snow white sheets, trying to avoid the conversation all together.

coryo stood up, removing his shoes and tie, “you saw the announcement.” he deduced, having put it together from the faint scent of his cousin’s perfume. “i didn’t want you to see it, i wanted to tell you myself-“ he kept undressing, and you sat up abruptly, “you had all morning to tell me what you had planned, but you let me go on about my day, let me think of you fondly and for you to announce that?!” you couldn’t help the tone of voice that you took with him, sometimes he was just irrational that not even you could get through to him.

he laughed softly, “so you wouldn’t have thought of me fondly if i had told you before the rest of the country?” he pulled the sheets on his side of the bed up, pulling them up to his chest as he turned to face you.

your back was resting against the pillows, arms crossed as you continued, “why would you do that, coryo?” your voice cracked, and his expression softened. one of his only weaknesses’ was you crying, whether it was someone else’s fault or his, it was a wretched weakness. “the victors are victors for a reason, why do we have to fight for our lives, all over again? hmm, haven’t we done enough?” you felt tears on your cheek, and you sniffled slightly.

coriolanus shook his head, “y/n, i took your name out.” he grabbed your thigh, “you won’t even have the chance of being reaped. you’ll just stand pretty on stage and watch the others get reaped.”

the others.

“you mean the children that i mentored to fight to the death and win?” you couldn’t see him through the puddles of tears in your eyes. you could only keep crying.

coriolanus stared, watching you sniffle and dab your tears away. he didn’t know what to say. this was his country, but you were his wife.

“just stand there y/n, they’ll be room for tears later.” he spat, and you stared at him in disbelief. coriolanus had become cruel, shrewd in his ways. this was a perfect example of one of the many ways he had changed.

you hauled yourself out of the bed, staring at coriolanus as you stomped out of the room. you had plenty of extra rooms in the house, and decided to go into one, leaving coriolanus to sleep in the bed by himself. he called after you, but you ignored him as you locked the door behind you.

you hadn’t seen so many people gathered in a long time. they stood in rows, long rows that seem to never end from where you stood. you stood next to the other tributes from your district, younger than you, eyes full of pain and sorrow.

the bowls containing their names were placed in front, one for the girls, and another for the boys. you knew your name wasn’t in there, coryo had said, ‘nothings changed’.

you listened carefully as the female victor was announced. valora grove, the young girl who you had just mentored this last hunger games. you watched as she hesitated to step up, face stricken with fear, this was happening to her all over again.

“i volunteer!” you panted, stepping up as you held a hand out, blocking valora from walking any further, “i volunteer as tribute.” you repeated, chest falling heavily as you stared out into the crowd, their faces displaying plain shock.

president snow’s wife, the first lady, the tenth annual hunger games victor, had just volunteered.

coriolanus must’ve just heard the news, because as you stood forward, accepting of what was to come, you were promptly escorted from the stage by peacekeepers, thrown into a car and driven straight back to the capitol.

coriolanus was furious, you knew. you knew your husband better than anyone in the world, better than his own family. he knew you well too, but you knew this was something he hadn’t anticipated, a small crack in his plans.

“you better hope i die.” was the first thing you said to him as the car doors open, coriolanus angrily gripping onto the handle. he stood there, fuming, “why y/n? why would you do that, you know that i can’t-“

“what? stop the games? of course not, that would make you look bad, coriolanus. but that’s exactly why i did it. you have no choice.” one thing that coriolanus had forgotten about you, was that you were smart, and usually, always one step ahead of him.

“i’m still a loose end, president snow.” you reminded him, stuck staring at his piercing blue eyes as his expression warped.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coryo x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow imagine

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wyniepooh · 4 months

Text

Miss

coriolanus misses his family and the many capitol luxuries, but the person he misses the most, is right here in the districts.

peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district reader. Forbidden love, sneaking around, tension. Mentions of guns! Corio has to pretend nothing is going on between him n the reader, tries to do a professional pat down on reader, but obvi does a little more bc he’s kinda obsessed.

"excuse me, miss."

your shared laughter with a local salesman dissipated as quickly as how it had originally started. the air around you seemed to chill, although the sun was still as present as ever, providing a warmth your thin sweater couldn't compare with.

you turned around, breath hitching when you focused on the familiar blue eyes you were just staring into a couple nights ago. His pristine grey uniform contrasted with the wrinkled, blue outfit you usually saw him in, and you almost giggled at how serious he looked. your lips began to curve, and your feet were moving before he could say another word.

"cori-"

"we're here for our regular checkup. making sure you don't have any illegal substances or dangerous objects on hand."

you paused in your steps, breathing out a gentle 'oh’ while the brightness on your face dimmed. coriolanus turned to another peacekeeper behind him, giving him a nod to approach the old man behind you. while he began lazily patting down the man, coriolanus placed a light hand on your forearm.

"follow me," he whispered.

You trailed behind him, observing the firm grip he had on his gun, and the confident strides he had with his black boots and solid helmet. It was hard to believe that this was a man you had shared endless laughs with, a man you've felt breathlessly on your lips, your chest, and on your neck.

He halted when he reached a curved wall a few feet away from his comrade, giving him one last look before breathing a sigh of relief. He turned towards you, letting the gun strap fall from his shoulders and resting the bottom on the ground.

"Turn around and face the wall."

Your brows furrowed and your mouth fell agape.

You had thought he was taking you somewhere private, somewhere you could both be alone and finish your conversation from last night. But hearing his stern words echo, it was clear that that was not in his plans.

Seeing your shocked expression, he silently tilted his chin back towards a group of more serious-looking peacekeepers standing guard behind him, guns aimed and eyes searching for sight of anything— a trick, a mishap, an accident.

Anything that would give them an opportunity to warm up their weapons.

You sighed, gently rolling your eyes as you turned away from coriolanus, stepping closer to the gray, concrete wall. You heard his footsteps approaching behind you, slow and a little hesitant.

"Hands on the wall," he muttered.

You almost jumped when you heard his voice, which was surprisingly close to your ear and oh-so-reminiscent. You tilted your head with annoyance, but complied, resting both of your palms on the cold, gritty surface above your head.

You felt his hands on your shoulders first. They did a quick, professional sweep over both your arms and hands before traveling down your back. He paused at your waist, both hands cupping the curvature, his thumb rubbing circles at the tender flesh of your hip.

"I miss you," he breathed.

So quietly, so faintly that you would've missed it had you not been completely still.

You wanted to reach back, to see his face and to relax your hand on his. But you could feel too many pairs of eyes on you to do what you truly wanted.

"I miss you, too,” you responded in the same, hushed, tone.

coriolanus began to crouch down, his warm breath hitting your thigh when he did so. Shivers spread from your shoulders to your toes, your bottom lips slipping between your teeth as your nails dug into the wall.

He dragged his hands down both of your legs, slower than what was acceptable, hands lingering on your ankle for longer than needed. time didn’t exist in the moment. you closed your eyes and relished in the comfort of his warm hand, imagining that you were both back on the dance floor, his arm around your waist, your arms around his neck.

A single finger dragged up the side of your body as he finally stood up. You were both quiet for a second. Suddenly, he exhaled sharply, patting the small of your waist to signal for you to turn.

As you did, you were almost afraid to look into his eyes. Afraid that once you did, you wouldn't be able to look away. but when your eyes finally did connect, he looked the same as he did last night. He was the coriolanus from last night. he opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by a sudden smack on the back.

"all done, private snow?"

coriolanus turned and saluted, gloved hand hitting the hard material of his helmet. "yes, sir."

The higher up stood in silence while giving you a quick scan, mouth twisted like he had just eaten something sour. After a suffocating minute, he finally spoke again. "Alright. Gather the others and return to your quarters for further instructions."

coriolanus saluted him again, eyes finding yours again only when the commander had long disappeared beyond your vision.

but once he did, his previous gaze returned. Blue eyes glossy, lips parted and hands clenching the strap of his gun so tightly his knuckles turned white. He swerved his head cautiously towards the peacekeepers, you joining him in observation.

He looked back with only one intention in mind.

He captured your breath in an instant, both of his hands cupping the side of your face while his thumb grazing the bottom of your chin. His helmet sunk painfully into your forehead, but that only motivated you to push your lips further into his. You placed a hand on his chest, fingers clenching and grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

The moment was over before it had really even started.

He pulled back abruptly, eyes still closed and mouth still hungry. You gently opened your eyes, squinting as you adjusted to the bright sunlight. Coriolanus' lips were swollen and wet, red from the sudden and brutal force and shiny from the remnants of you. His chest heaved up and down. He slowly backed away.

"See you next time, miss,” he sputtered, breath still wavering. He looked away. With a twirl and a cloud of sand, he had marched away.

"Next time," you muttered to his shadow.

You sighed, stepping away from the corner and out into the open market once more. You took a few steps, and then your strides faltered.

With furrowed brows, you reached down to your shoe. A combination of a gasp and a chuckle escaped your mouth when you pulled out a square of neatly folded paper from the back of your heel.

Miss you. Need you. Midnight, tonight. Meet me at our spot.

A/n: im a sucker for forbidden love anything lolz!!

#wyniepooh #coriolanus snow x you #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coryo snow #coryolanus snow #coryo smut #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x female!reader #cor

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maysileeewrites · 5 months

Text

Don’t Want You Like A Best Friend

17+ content; mdni!

Part I | series masterlist | my Coryo masterlist

summary: You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember. You've always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - not quite so pure and innocent anymore ...

chapter tags/warnings: some best friends to lovers angst and emotional confusion, lots of fluff, slightly ooc Coryo (don't worry, the possessive jealousy borderline crazy obsessive behavior will come in later parts!), a lil smutty treat at the end of the chapter

word count: 5,7k (it’s worth it, I promise!!)

You and Coriolanus have been best friends ever since you can remember.

You’ve grown up together, experienced everything together, with your family living just across the street from Coroy’s family’s apartment.

You’ve been there for each other during the dark days of the war, when both his parents and your father died. You’ve attended the academy together for years.

You’re planning on going to University together as well, though that is still in the future, seeing as it will be a few more months until you’ll both finally graduate the academy.

Really, Coriolanus is such a constant, important aspect in your life, you can’t imagine life without him.

He’s always there for you - whether it be to laugh over a silly joke one of you two made or to hug and console you after a bad day or to look out for you and protect you.

You’re inseparable, really, spending almost every moment together.

Before, you’ve always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - they’re not quite so pure and innocent anymore.

Lately, you’ve caught yourself staring at Coriolanus more and more often, gaze lingering on his bright blue eyes, his mischievous smirk, his blond curls or his toned, muscled arms or chest.

When he hugs you, you can’t help but notice how good it feels to be pressed against his toned chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin.

When he reaches out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, you have to fight the urge to close your eyes and lean into his warm, comforting touch.

When he reaches out to draw you closer, his hand settling possessively on your waist, the first thought in your head is that this - this feels right. You and Coryo together, as close as possible.

And you can’t help but want, no, crave, more of it.

More of Coryo, more of you two together, more of that dizzying, heady feeling you get whenever he touches you that sends your thoughts spiraling and makes your heartbeat go haywire.

You’ve started to crave his touch more and more, always trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch him - letting your hand brush against his, laying a hand on his arm to steady yourself or reaching out a hand to brush a stray curl from his forehead.

You feel yourself starting to get addicted to him more and more - and you have no idea how to stop it.

Though, if you’re honest with yourself- you don’t want to stop it.

You want to get lost in this snow storm of feelings.

“Let’s go through this one more time”, Coryo says from his place at your desk, prompting a sigh from you.

“Coryo”, you say, whining, “we’ve been going through this this whole afternoon. I think you’ve got it. Besides, the test is not until next Monday, you’ve got the whole weekend to continue studying - not that you need it.”

“You know that I can’t afford to get anything other than an A on this test, right?”, Coryo replies, sighing.

“And you know that you’ll get an A, even without studying, Coryo”, you reply, finally sitting up from your sprawled-out position on your bed.

You can see Coryo shaking his head, about to say something else, so you hastily add: “Please, Coryo. I know how much you worry about your grades - I get it, I really do. But, you’ve slowly been driving me insane this afternoon, I can’t go through this stuff yet again, at least not right now.”

When Coryo doesn’t reply immediately, you nervously bite down on your lower lip. You didn’t want to sound so mean, but the truth is that he has been driving you crazy this afternoon. You’ve already gone through all your notes of ancient history three times and you really don’t want to go all through 18 pages - front and back, in Coryo’s small, neat handwriting no less - of notes yet again.

Coryo sighs frustratedly.

You look up, only to find his intense gaze fixed on you, his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’m sorry, you’re right”, he says, sighing again and running a hand through his blond curls. “Maybe I just need to take a break-“

“That sounds wonderful”, you say, cutting him off before he has the chance to add a but to his suggestion.

You get up from your bed, walking over to your desk and grab both of Coryo’s hands, trying to get him to get up, but Coryo doesn’t cooperate, becoming a dead weight to you.

“Coryo, come on”, you plead, huffing a sigh of frustration, when he still makes no move to get up.

You take another step closer to him, putting even more strength into the motion of your arms - just when Coryo smirks up at you, before tugging hard on your hands, causing you to stumble forward; right into his lap.

“Asshole!”, you exclaim, pushing against his chest with your hands, but Coryo doesn’t budge.

He just looks up at you with a triumphant smirk, a daring expression in his blue eyes. Daring you to do what exactly, you’re not quite sure. You just know that you’re trapped in his gaze, unable to do anything but look at him and get lost in his blue, blue eyes.

And - this isn’t the first time that something like this has happened lately. In fact, lately you’ve found Coryo’s eyes lingering on you more and more often, his intense gaze seemingly burning you.

And it should frighten you, how much you’ve come to crave the feeling of his eyes on you. And it does, but there’s something else there as well - a yearning for his attention that hasn’t been there before.

The soft sound of Coryo chuckling at your scowling expression draws you out of your thoughts.

“Need some help?”, he asks you, smirking.

You huff a sigh of frustration, trying to push against his chest again - at the same time that Coryo tugs on your arms again, causing you to shift even more forward in his lap, until you’re pressed flush against his strong, muscular chest.

Flustered, you feel your cheeks warming, your heartbeat quickening. Coryo is so, so close to you, you can feel his breath on your skin, his heartbeat under your hands.

And - well, you’re sitting right in his lap, and once you’ve worked through your initial confusion at his sudden closeness, you can feel something else as well. Something hard pressed against your stomach-

Coryo clears his throat then, gently pushing you away. You stumble, disoriented from the sudden motion, but then Coryo’s hand is there on your waist, steadying you.

He leans in even closer towards you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He smiles softly, as if nothing has just happened. “You were saying something about taking a break?”

You swallow, trying to calm your still erratic heartbeat and forcing a smile onto your face. “Sure. How about a snack and some hot chocolate?”

“Finally satisfied with all the torture you’ve put me through today?”, you say, yawning, when you see Coriolanus finally closing his folder - you feel like you’ve been studying for ages and you never want to see his ancient history notes ever again.

He laughs softly, the sound reverberating against your back. You don’t quite know how you’ve ended up in this position - both of you on your bed, Coryo sitting behind you, you sitting between his legs, your head leaning against his chest.

It shouldn’t feel so good, being this close to him, especially after that incident earlier this afternoon- that still has your mind reeling and your cheeks heating up whenever you think about it -, but it does.

In fact, now that you’ve got a taste of it, you don’t ever want it to stop.

You bite down hard on your lip, trying - and failing - to stop this dangerous line of thinking. Because allowing yourself to let your thoughts spiral like this, allowing yourself to feel this nervous, heated energy that’s coursing through your veins, instead of suppressing it, like you’ve done until now - is dangerous.

It will only lead you down a road of heartbreak. Yet you can’t seem to find it in you to hit the brakes and stop.

„Torture?“, Coryo now says, drawing you out of your thoughts. „You seem to be in an awfully good mood for suffering through a whole afternoon of torture.“

You can’t help but smile at his words, though you’re glad that Coryo isn’t able to see it - he’d just call you out and tease you for smiling like an idiot to yourself.

„Yes, well, going through eighteen pages of notes - front and back - four times is torture-“, your words are cut off by a surprised, startled yelp, when suddenly, Coryo starts tickling you.

„No - Coryo, please!“, you manage to get out, but he’s unrelenting, only tickling you harder despite your protests.

Both his hands are wrapped around your waist and your back is pressed flush against his broad chest. And even though you’re still giggling, trying to fight him off, you can also feel that nervous, heady feeling that sends your thoughts and heartbeat haywire again.

You give up trying to fight him off, then, which Coryo immediately notices. He laughs softly, before finally ending his tickling attack and resting his head on the crook of your neck. „Enough torture for today?“, he asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You try to turn around to face him then, but both his hands are still on your waist, trapping you in place. „You’re a jerk, you know that, right?“, you say, though your voice doesn’t sound quite as steady and dry as you’d intended it to.

Coriolanus just laughs, the sensation of his warm breath ghosting over your skin causing you to shiver involuntarily. „You’ve never complained before.“

You huff, rolling your eyes. „Well, you’ve never bothered to acknowledge it.“

„Mhm, that’s probably for the best …“

You roll your eyes again - his answer is just so typically Coryo.

„What, no witty retort?“, Coriolanus asks, but you only shake your head, yawning.

„We both know that you can be quite the jerk, ’s nothing new … besides, it’s late …“, you mumble, trying to suppress another yawn and leaning back against his chest again. It is late - already way past eleven, the street outside your window already dark, safe for the streetlights.

You close your eyes, wishing that you could just stay like this, wrapped in Coryo’s comforting embrace, if only for a short moment longer.

„You’re right, it’s late“, Coriolanus now says. „I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have held you up so long, I should get going …“

„Or you could stay.“

The words are out of your mouth before you’ve thought them through and you can feel yourself flushing again. Now, you’re really glad that you’re still facing away from Coriolanus - you feel like you’d die from embarrassment if he could see your face going beet-red.

„I could …“, he says, his voice uncertain.

„Yes … you, uh, could …“, you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re glad that Coriolanus isn’t able to see it - really, you’re just glad that he hasn’t noticed how weird you’ve been acting around him lately, your heartbeat picking up, your cheeks flushing, your hands getting sweaty when being around him; sometimes just from a single touch or a lingering look from Coryo.

It’s not like you’ve never done this before, like this has never happened before. This wouldn’t be the first time that Coriolanus sleeps over at your place. In fact, he used to do so a lot when you were younger, right after his parents died and he was plagued with nightmares. It stopped happening as often when you both got older, and now, it hasn’t happened in years.

And somehow him sleeping over at your place now seems to be something totally different than him sleeping over at your place when you were both little kids.

You’re not little kids anymore - you’ve changed. You both have. Your friendship has changed, evolved as well.

Coriolanus is still your best friend, the one person you wouldn’t want to live without; but somehow, he’s not just that. He means something more to you as well, something else, something much less innocent than friendship-

„Yes, I could - I mean, only if that’s alright with you and your mother-“

„Sure“, you interrupt him, your voice sounding incredibly high and nervous. Fuck, you think, running a hand through your hair, and trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. „I mean, it’s no big deal …“

Lie.

It is a big deal, but it’s probably for the best that Coriolanus doesn’t know that the thought of falling asleep right next to him excites you way more than it probably should.

Coriolanus laughs softly. „Great … Should we get ready for bed then? It’s quite late and you always take ages getting ready for bed-“

„Just admit that you need your beauty sleep“, you interrupt him, teasing him back. You don’t need to turn around to know that he’s rolling his eyes at your remark.

„Exactly“, he says, dryly, before gently losing his embrace and getting up.

You follow him to the bathroom, your mind still spiraling. Just minutes earlier, you were complaining about going through Coryo’s ancient history notes four times; now, you’re following your best friend to the bathroom that’s connected to your room, to get ready for bed - with your best friend who’s sleeping over.

In your bathroom, you hand Coriolanus a spare toothbrush, a comb and a towel, trying to ignore the tingly feeling in your fingertips when your hands brush against his. But then, he draws you closer with one hand, his hand resting on your waist for just a moment too long and you’re blushing again, the thought that you shouldn’t feel so excited and nervous about your best friend sleeping over already forgotten again.

It takes you quite some time to get ready for bed. Not, as Coriolanus keeps insisting, because of your way too long and time consuming evening routine; but because of him distracting you with his lingering touches and stolen glances - messing your hair up again right after you’ve combed through it; catching your gaze in the mirror over the sink again and again while you’re brushing your teeth; drawing you closer just when you’re about to reach for your night cream.

It’s way past midnight when you’re finally laying down in bed - right next to Coriolanus, who turns to look at you with a soft smile on his face after you’ve reached for the bedsheets, drawing them over you both.

He scoots closer to you, before wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you even closer to him, your back flush against his chest - the gesture so casual and natural, as if it doesn’t make your heartbeat go haywire.

„Good night“, he whispers, before resting his head on the crook of your neck.

Your heart skips a beat then.

„Good- good night, Coryo“, you manage to get out, your voice wobbly.

You close your eyes, though you already know that actually falling asleep will be almost impossible - how are you supposed to just fall asleep with Coriolanus right there, your back pressed against his chest, his hand on your waist, his head resting on the crook of your neck?

No - you probably won’t even catch a single second of sleep this night.

But somehow, that doesn’t sound too bad. (Not when you get to spend the night like this, with your best friend wrapped around you.)

The next morning, you’re the first one awake.

Coriolanus is still soundly asleep, his even breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. You’re in almost the same position as you were when you fell asleep, with Coriolanus’s hand on your stomach, his head resting on your shoulder.

You were right, you think, yawning, you didn’t get much sleep. It took you ages to fall asleep, your mind still reeling from Coriolanus’s overwhelming closeness. You must have fallen asleep at some point though, because you distinctly remember waking from Coriolanus tightening his hold on you and muttering some unintelligible.

You yawn again, carefully turning around to face Coriolanus.

He’s still asleep.

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on him, study his face - as if you haven’t already memorized every single one of his features. He looks so calm and peaceful when he sleeps, his expression soft and open.

Without thinking, you reach up with one hand and brush a stray blond curl from his forehead. The motion seems to wake Coriolanus though, because his eyes flutter open, and then he’s looking at you - his blue gaze still a bit disoriented, but you feel caught up in his gaze nonetheless.

„Hey“, he says, his voice still a bit sleepy, „sleep well?“

You quickly withdraw your hand, forcing a smile onto your face. „Well, could’ve been better if you hadn’t snored so loudly“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

Coriolanus just scoffs. „I do not snore“, he says, indignant.

No, you think, but you still kept me awake all night long, just by having your hand splayed across my stomach, your head resting on my shoulder.

Still, you force yourself to shrug. „Easy for you to say.“

Coriolanus just scoffs again. But even though he’s annoyed by your comment, shooting you another indignant look, you can’t help but think that you want to spend every single morning just like this.

You want to wake up right next to Coriolanus every morning - something you shouldn’t even be thinking about, but something that you still desperately crave nonetheless.

It becomes a habit, then - Coryo sleeping over at your place.

At first, he only does it after one of your study sessions, once or twice a week. But then, it starts happening more and more often - him sleeping over after a movie night (considering that it took you a lot of convincing to get him to finally agree to a movie night, he seems to be enjoying himself quite a lot, cuddling up to you on your living room couch, resting his head on the crook of your neck, sending your heartbeat haywire) or after an evening of cooking together or after a long evening spent together at the Academy’s library, finishing an assignment for Professor Sickle.

At first, you don’t really think anything of it.

But then, one Sunday morning you’re going through your clothes (for once, Coryo didn’t sleep over at your place, because he and Tigris promised the Grandm’am an early breakfast before helping her out with her roses) and suddenly, you realize that there’s a whole stack of Coryo’s clothes in your closet. Dress shirts, plain shirts, pants, even one of his favorite shirts - it’s all here, in your closet.

Without allowing yourself to think too much about it, you grab a simple long-sleeved grey shirt from the stack with Coryo’s clothes and put it on. (It’s oversized, the sleeves way too long, but you don’t care, the shirt is so soft and comfortable. And besides - it still smells like Coryo, like roses and powder and something else, something that’s entirely him.)

After throwing on some simple, comfortable pants as well, you walk over to your bathroom - and startle when you see the box with Coryo’s things on one side of the big, marble sink. A toothbrush, a comb, even a small tube of Tigris’s face cream that he secretly uses - you’re the only one who knows and he’d made you swear not to tell a single living soul that fact.

You smile at the memory, absentmindedly running a hand through your hair and letting your eyes wander through the bathroom.

But everywhere you look, you see Coriolanus. Everything seems to somehow remind you of him.

That towel on the sink, which is lying neatly folded right next to the box with Coryo’s stuff. It’s one of your own towels, nothing special in your opinion - you’ve got lot of other towels and really, a towel is just a towel - but Coryo insists that it’s softer than your other towels and feels better on his skin.

That old butterfly-shaped hairpin of yours, lying abandoned on the windowsill. You only have to look at it to be taken back to Thursday night when you were getting ready for bed, brushing your hair in front of the great mirror over the sink, when suddenly Coryo walked into your bathroom, your old hairpin in hand.

„That’s the hairpin you got for your tenth birthday, isn’t it?“, he asked, smiling to himself.

You nodded. „Yes, I thought about giving it away, maybe gifting it to my little cousin, because I don’t really think that it suits me anymore.“

Coryo’s smile seemed to freeze at your words. „Really? I still think it looks great, look“, he said, drawing you closer with one hand whilst reaching up with his other hand to place to pin in your hair.

„See?“, he said, smiling.

You laughed, shaking your head. „I mean, yes, it’s beautiful, but I’m not ten anymore, Coryo.“

You wanted to put the hairpin away, but Coriolanus insisted on you keeping it just a little longer - maybe you’d change your mind about it.

You reach for that hairpin now, absentmindedly running your fingers over it. Coriolanus is right, the pin is beautiful, even though it looks a bit worn down after years of usage.

You decide to keep the pin, then. Not because you think that you’ll wear it again, but as another reminder of Coryo.

It is in this moment that you realize that your feelings towards your best friend have changed - you no longer view him as just your best friend.

You no longer want him like a best friend.

You don’t want to be just his best friend anymore - you want so much more than that. You want - no need - his attention, want his lingering eyes on you, want his warm, comforting touch before falling asleep, want to wake up next to him, want to feel his lips on yours.

You tighten your grip on the hairpin, until you feel it starting to dig uncomfortably in your skin, but the pain still can’t distract you from your thoughts and the heavy, crushing feeling in your chest.

Because no matter how much you might want to be more than Coryo’s best friend - to him, you’ll never be anything else. He’ll never see you as anything other than his best friend.

It somehow becomes both easier and harder to be around Coryo after your realization.

Easier, because it means that you still get to be around him, get to talk with him, fall asleep with him at your side, ly next to on your bed while he’s motivating you to study.

Harder, because it means that you still get to be around him - all the time. Looking at him, laughing with him, touching him; fantasizing about him in ways that you definitely shouldn’t think about your best friend.

His presence is almost like a drug to you; addicting and intoxicating, leaving you craving more of it, even though you know that it’s not good for you - in the end it’ll be your heart that’ll be broken.

„Something on your mind?“, Coryo’s soft voice draws you out of your thoughts, his hand absentmindedly drawing circles on your back.

It’s already late evening and you’re lying together in your bed - you wearing one of his shirts, which he noticed with a satisfied smirk earlier, over your nightdress.

You shake your head, thankful that Coriolanus can’t see your face, seeing as he’s spooning you from behind. „Not really, no … just all these papers we’ll have to hand in during the next two weeks …“

„Well, if it’s nothing else …“, Coriolanus says, laughing softly, his warm breath tickling against your skin, but something tells you that he doesn’t quite believe your words.

„Nope“, you say, trying to sound nonchalant, before freeing yourself from Coriolanus’s grip, taking off his shirt, so that you’re left in only your lacy, red nightdress.

The distraction works - Coriolanus’s swallows, the expression in his eyes darkening. „Won’t you - uhm, freeze? If you’re only sleeping in that, I mean, it doesn’t look very warm …“, he stutters - actually stutters.

„Freeze?“, you ask, grinning, „with you right next to me?“

Coriolanus just scoffs, rolling his eyes. It’s a discussion you’ve had quite often these last few weeks - with you convinced that his body temperature is too high, and him convinced that yours is running too low.

Though maybe Coryo does have a point and you always feeling so hot when you’re being embraced by him has more to do with your heartbeat quickening and your palms turning sweaty from being so near to him and less with his body temperature.

Suddenly, Coriolanus sits up, leaning in towards you, before closing both his arms around you, caging you in his embrace. Both of his hands are splayed possessively over your stomach, though one feels dangerously close to your chest.

Though - maybe that is just your imagination running wild with you again.

„Warm enough for you?“, Coriolanus asks, resting his head on the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You laugh, trying not to squirm - you’re insanely ticklish, something Coriolanus very much know. „Yes, Coryo, more than enough …“

„Hm …“, he laughs softly. „Can’t have you freezing now, can I?“, he adds, reaching for your blanket and draping it around you both.

„Hm ...“, you hum, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against his chest. You feel so warm and content, being so close to Coryo. It’s so easy to get lost in your imagination like that, to pretend that you can actually have this with him, to pretend that this is not just your best friend messing around with you - to pretend that he feels the same way you do.

You stay like that for a moment - Coryo holding you in his arms, bodies pressed flush together.

Then, after a while - you can’t tell whether it’s been only a few minutes or a few hours; time always seems to either stop or pass you by in a blur whenever you’re with Coriolanus - he clears his throat, breaking his embrace.

„It’s late, we should probably try to get some sleep …“, he says, trying to suppress a yawn.

You nod, forcing a smile onto your face. „Sure … can’t have your mind in a foggy, exhausted state when you want to make a good impression in Sickle’s class tomorrow morning …“

Coriolanus scoffs, laying down on your bed.

The moment you’ve lain down as well, he scoots closer to you, enclosing you in his arms. Something he does every night when he sleeps over, though your heart still skips a beat at the action.

This is dangerous, you think. You can’t keep thinking about your best friend like that, can’t keep falling and falling for him-

„Good night“, Coriolanus says - and then he does something he’s never done before: he leans in closer towards you, pressing a gentle, soft kiss to your hairline.

Your heartbeat quickens and you can only hope that Coryo won’t be able to pick up on it.

„Good - good night, Coryo“, you say, your voice shaky, barely being able to get the words out.

Coriolanus laughs, before resting his head on the crook of your neck again.

You swallow, trying not to shiver.

This night, it takes you a long time to fall asleep.

When you wake up, Coriolanus has wrapped himself around you, caging you in between his arms, one of his hands splayed possessively across your stomach, his other hand dangerously close to the hem of your admittedly quite short night dress. (You may have decided on deliberately wearing this particular lacy red night dress, seeing as it has made Coriolanus look at you with a dark expression in his eyes when he’d seen you wearing it once before.)

His strong, muscled chest is pressed flush against your back - though that’s not the only thing pressed against your back.

You feel your cheeks heat up when you realize what this means. This has only happened two times before, and both times Coriolanus was quick to embarresedly scoot away from you when he woke up, realizing that his erection had been pressed against your back.

Now, though, Coriolanus seems to be asleep and in no hurry to move away from you. In fact, he suddenly makes a low muffled noise, his grip on you tightening, his hand at the hem of your night dress moving up even higher until you can feel his fingertips brush over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

You can’t help the surprised noise that escapes you then - even though all of this should feel so wrong; it doesn’t.

It doesn’t feel wrong at all. In fact, you want - no, crave even more of this, of you and Coryo pressed so closely together that not even a single leaf could fit between you, Coriolanus’s hands on you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Coriolanus suddenly says your name, his lips brushing against your skin, causing you to shiver.

„Cory?“, you ask, trying to turn around, but his grip on you is too tight, keeping you in place.

Then - your name falling from his lips again, followed by a loud, coarse moan.

„Yes, right there - fuck, so good, so good“, Coriolanus moans, one hand suddenly finding its way under the skirt of your night dress, his fingers moving up higher and higher on your thighs, coming dangerously close to the hem of your panties-

„Fuck!“ Another loud moan, followed by Coriolanus’s hips moving against yours, his erection pressing against you.

Oh, you think, cheeks impossibly warm, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from making any sound.

Besides your imagination running wild these last few weeks, one dirty fantasy of you and your best friend chasing the other, this has never happened to you. You thought that it never would happen to you - at least not with Coryo.

Though he’s only caught up in a dream of his own, you try to remind yourself, when his hips move against yours again.

It’s only a dream. But why is it your name that he’s moaning then, not any other? But maybe it’s just a coincide-

Every single thought is wiped from your head, when Coriolanus’s fingers brush over your panties, teasing your clit though the thin fabric.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you then - not when this feels so good, Coriolanus’s fingers teasing over your clit, his hips moving against yours, his lips pressed to the skin of your neck, his other hand still splayed across your stomach.

Coriolanus moans your name again then, his fingers cupping your cunt through the thin fabric of your panties, and you find yourself moving your hips against his, driven by pure instinct.

The low, coarse groan that escapes Coriolanus then has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together, but his fingers are still there, still teasing over your clit.

Suddenly, his fingers start to move, drawing teasing circles over your clit, and it’s all too much for you. Overwhelmed by all the different emotions coursing through you, you tear yourself away from his grip, getting up on shaky feet and walking over to the bathroom that’s connected to your bedroom.

Your head is still spinning when you find yourself leaning against the cold, marble walls of the bathroom, your core still aching, yearning for Coriolanus’s touch.

You shiver, even though you feel too hot, your skin feeling like it’s been set on fire. Coriolanus touched you. Your best friend’s fingers were almost inside you and-

Fuck.

Fuck, you’ll never able to look your best friend in the eyes again, even though all you want is to be as close to him as you were moments ago.

Acting on pure instinct, you shimmy out of your nightdress, letting it fall to the floor, before stepping inside the shower. Maybe a good, cold shower, will help, you think, turning on the shower.

You step back, letting the cold water hit your body. But even though the cold water feels like needles prickling against your skin, you still feel as if your entire body was set on fire, your core still aching and empty.

Almost on their own accord, your fingers find their way to your clit. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to blink back the tears in your eyes that are suddenly threatening to spill.

Still, you can’t help the low moan that escapes you when your fingers find their way between your folds.

You close your eyes, letting your head fall back - letting pure instinct take over, as you fuck yourself on your fingers, wishing that it were Coryo’s fingers filling you up instead.

When you come, it’s with a desperate, breathless cry and images of Coriolanus pressed against you playing over and over again in your mind.

What you don’t know, though, is that Coriolanus has been awake all this time - every single touch was a deliberate, strategic move on his part and you’d reacted even better than he could have imagined. He followed you to the bathroom when you got up from bed, and now he’s watching you come undone from his position behind the door that you forgot to properly lock in your haste.

He feels like he’s going crazy, crawling out of his skin as he watches you screw your eyes shut, throwing your head back. Your breathless whimpers and moans are all that he can hear, echoing through his mind.

Wracked with shame, guilt and desire coursing through him, he shoves one hand into his pants, his eyes still fixated on you.

It only takes a few strokes over his already achingly hard length until he comes undone as well.

And when he unravels, it is with your breathless moans echoing through his mind, his eyes on you, and your name like a bittersweet, deadly poison that he just can’t get enough of on his lips.

sooo ...? please, please lmk what you think, I'm so excited to hear your thoughts!

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comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #thg #tbosas #x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #don't want you like a best friend #maysileeewrites

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spideyhexx · 4 months

Text

mdni

tw dark coriolanus? dom/sub dynamics.

“darling, I always wanna fuck.”

Coriolanus cocks his head, studying your expression as he answers your question.

You joked about how easy it is for him to get hard around you. How he must always be horny and without a beat he said those words and you felt any confidence you had left in you start to diminish.

“Or, to correct that, I always wanna fuck you, bunny.”

There it is. His lips curl as it rolls off his tongue and he's about to roll his eyes at how quickly you're on your knees in front him, pawing at his thighs, waiting for any sort of permission.

Coriolanus crouches down to your level, his icy eyes searching yours. His hair is fixed to perfection and you long to mess it up, deprave him of this clean cut look he's trying on.

You have no idea what's running through his head and it's killing you.

"Do you need your mouth filled?" You tell him yes and Coriolanus' gaze darts to your neck as you swallow. He tsks.

He stands back up and walks over to his desk. When he sits down in his padded chair, he sees you're still in the same spot.

"Are you coming?"

You go to stand and he holds his hand up to signal you to stop. Coriolanus needs to say nothing. He's trained you well and your mind flashes back to his sweet little name for you. You always used those as a means to tell you exactly what mood he's in.

So you crawl over to him. He's not that far, but with every move you make, your insides are burning with a humiliation so deep and you're glad Coriolanus is the only one who gets to experience it.

Once you're on your knees beside his chair, he's presenting his fingers in front of your face, the tip of this thumb brushing your lips.

"Drool around these until I'm finished working, bunny. I'll stuff your mouth with something bigger later," he says, without another glance to you as he focuses on whatever work he needs to get done.

You hold his wrist gently, taking two, maybe three of his fingers into your mouth. You'd try to tease him, lolling your tongue around them, sucking on them, anything, but Coriolanus has the most self control you've ever seen.

And you'd sit there, his fingers stuffed into your mouth, your hand caressing his wrist and Coriolanus would ignore you the entire time.

He'd work slower just cause he knows you're waiting for more. But regardless of his teasing, when he does finally let you have his cock in your mouth despite the ache in your jaw your mouth and chin covered in your own spit, he's oddly gentle and caring. He helps you slowly bob your head on him, cooing about how he knows you love his cock, thick and heavy in your mouth. He relishes in your little whimpers and the way he can see you drool from the corners of your mouth. Coriolanus loves that you're sloppy with it. It's something that only he gets the pleasure to witness and isn't that one of his most powerful turn ons?

But Coriolanus still likes to be mean.

He doesn't let you swallow his cum, despite your cute little protests and the way you lap up any pre cum beading from his tip as he takes his cock out of your mouth.

Coriolanus makes you take it in your cunt, laying you on your tummy, his weight almost completely on you as he fucks you from behind. He's reciting back his words from earlier as he pounds into you, his hand snaking to hold onto your throat, his lips ghosting at your ear.

"I always wanna fuck you, bunny. Cause this? This is all mine," and he makes sure you know that every single time his length twitches inside of you. "Your pussy, your mouth, your love, your life is all mine," he'd growl and make you repeat it to him before he finally lets you have all of him.

let's chat about coryo, here :)

#listen #dont question me #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow drabble #coryo x reader #coriolanus x y/n

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kasagia · 3 months

Note

in “a powerful man” how do you think coryo would take it if the reader told him that she’d forgive him completely only if she was allowed to have an affair with another man once too, since he had one with livia? love your fic btw ❤️

Thank you veeeeeery much, dear anonymous!!! I'm so glad you liked it!! 😊😊🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵

I think this is probably the first time someone has asked me a question about one of my oneshots, so let's make this a headcon. (Also, because I have neither the inspiration nor the time to write, maybe it will stimulate me somehow and I will feel more willing to write again. And maybe I got some inspiration too.) 🙈🙈

I'm talking about this 'version' of Coryo.

How do I think Coriolanus would react to you wanting to have a 'revenge affair' as a price for your forgiveness: (with smut?)

NO. A definite and categorical no. Coryo has no intention of sharing you, even for the shortest moment, with anyone else. You are his fiancée (not willingly, but still), and he will not allow the hands of some lesser man to stain what is his,

Does he want your complete forgiveness? A return to what once was between you? A carefree relationship where you trusted him and freely showed your devotion and deep feelings? He admits that it would be nice, but he doesn't want it at that price,

Coriolanus will have you anyway. It doesn't matter whether you let him or not. You are his new obsession—the future First Lady. And after being elected president, he knows that nothing can stop him. He has the most power. Over everything, including you.

Therefore no. He disagrees.

He is ready to break you, to force you into the woman of his dreams, to subject you to thousands of manipulations, than to allow any other man to get close to you. You have no right to betray him. Never. You are committed to him for the rest of your life, and he will do anything to make sure you know that.

He will even go as far as threatening your family and loved ones (especially your younger sister, for whom you have a soft spot). Therefore, you have no choice but to play wisely in Coriolanus' game, in which you have become a forced participant.

Let's imagine you make him this offer...

"Where does this sudden surge of tenderness come from, my petal? I'm not complaining, but usually when it comes from you, it also comes with a price to pay. What do you want from me this time?" He asks you after a particularly hot, passionate, and affectionate session in his bedroom, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, lazily drawing patterns on his chest with your finger. You shrug, pressing a kiss on his jaw. He hugs you tighter, dipping his head and burying his nose in your hair. You lie there in each other's arms for a moment. You wait for his heartbeat to slow down a little and for him to relax enough for you to ask him your question. "That was nice, right?" You ask innocently, continuing to caress his chest muscles with your feathery touch. "So much so that I'm afraid of what you'll ask me after this." He jokes and presses a kiss on your temple. "Wouldn't you rather have it all the time? My voluntary affection, passion, and desire? To be adored by me not only in front of the eyes of the Capitol?" You ask, placing small kisses on his neck. You distract him for a moment. He closes his eyes and bites his buttom lip, holding back a moan as you suddenly suck on his skin. You make sure to leave a hickey there as you lightly bite his skin. You pull away, then, so you can look into his eyes. "What do you want?" He asks curiously, his hand caressing your waist and every bit of skin he can get to despite you being wrapped in the covers. "Do you remember when you cheated on me with Livia?" "It wasn't cheating; I only did it because I had to. I felt no pleasure with her. No, as I feel each time we are together like this. But continue." He interrupts you, frowning disapprovingly. He didn't want to think of it as a betrayal. More like something... business. The thing he simply had to do for his career. You shiver, feeling sick just thinking about it. "I want the same." "You want to sleep with her?" He asks amusedly with a small chuckle, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between you for a moment after your words. "Not with her. With someone else. You know. Feel the thrill of something new and exciting. Besides, it would be a perfect proof of your devotion, don't you think? I would know that you were able to rise above your pride and that I could trust you again. That we are both equal. Enough to make me fall in love with you again. Didn't you promise me that? That you will do all in your power to make me love you again?" "Oh, and I will. But I'll kill all the men in Panem before I let anyone lay a finger on what's mine. And you, petal, belong to me. You will fall in love with me again. If not of your own will, then thanks to my... nudges in the right direction. It's up to you how painful they will be." "So you don't want my forgiveness?" You ask, furious, trying to match his scowl with yours. He squeezes you tighter, making you bite your lip, holding back a hiss of pain as his fingers dig painfully into your hips and buttocks. "Not necessarily. I want you. And I got you. All to myself. What difference does it make if I have to hold your throat or your hand while I am pushing into you?" With that question, he wraps his hand around your throat and presses his mouth aggressively against yours, allowing you no resistance. You moan as your tongues intertwine, and he hovers above you again, his length pressing alive and hard against your thigh again as he grinds against you, spreading his pre-cum on your skin.

Will he admit to jealousy? Of course not. He will keep telling you that you are his. That, as his property, you must obey him; otherwise, he will ruin your scientific career and take away the research you are working on.

Another excuse is that the Capitol thinks you are the perfect couple. What happens if someone finds out you're cheating on them? Coriolanus cannot let this happen. After all, the reputations of the two of you are the most important thing to him. He won't risk it in any way. And certainly not, so you can fuck another man.

And there would also be the problem of quietly disposing of your potential lover's corpse, because there's no way Coriolanus would let someone live who had tasted his First Lady's pussy.

Let's assume this does happen and you are having an affair…

Saints, help the one who dared to sleep with you behind Coriolanus' back.

There's no way he wouldn't find out about it.

You're so followed and watched over by his men and spies that it's a wonder you managed to sleep with anyone else and even keep it a secret from him for some time.

But when he finds out... it's an understatement to say he was furious. He was crazy. But if he had learned anything, it was how to plan revenge, how to strike, and when, so that his victim would never get up and regret ever going against him and becoming an obstacle.

Of course, your lover ends up dead after many weeks of being followed (to such an extent that he went crazy, feeling constant anxiety and eyes on the back of his neck), brutal interrogation by peackeepers, charges of high treason, and a public execution preceded by dosing him with various poisons and undergoing painful experiments. (Coriolanus even personally castrated him.)

But he's not just taking revenge on your lover. You get punished too.

The peacekeepers won't let you into the lab. Your parents and sister are forcibly sent to one of the districts for 'the holidays' without being able to contact you. Dr. Gaul can't talk to you either. You are confined to your house, unable to contact anyone who is not Coriolanus.

And he waits patiently until the loneliness and inability to do anything begin to affect you.

For the first few weeks, you struggle, trying to get out. You quickly realise that you don't have this option. His most trusted people and the Avox make sure you don't leave your room. And you start going crazy. You miss conversation, touch, and another person. You even miss Coryo.

Three months of your isolation has passed when he appears in your 'prison'.

He accepts with a huge smile that you throw yourself at him, begging for forgiveness. You rip off his clothes before he can even respond to your pleas and pleasure him as best as you can, just to regain any semblance of freedom he once gave you.

You spend the whole night pleasing him, but he doesn't say a word, only moaning and grunting, even as you cry, begging him to say something, as you ride him like your life depends on it (which actually isn't far from the truth).

The next day, he is not in bed in the morning.

Instead, a crowd of make-up artists, designers, and maids come to prepare you for YOUR WEDDING.

You find out that he made people in the Capitol think that your family was spending one last vacation together before you got married. And he, being a good fiancé, let you go.

You're too busy thinking about finally being free from the confines of four walls of your room to even think about what a son of a bitch he is.

And after the wedding, when you go on your 'honeymoon' and he holds you on his lap in your compartment on the train, he mocks how little it took to break you and that you have to make up to him for 3 months without you, when he had to hold back and keep control over his desires so as not to come to you too soon.

When I kiss you and gently strip you of your wedding dress, you realise how far he can actually go to get what he wants.

You decide to play by his rules. Pretend to be an obedient and loving wife. At least for now.

You will slowly regain your old life. And maybe if you play smarter and manipulate him more delicately without showing too much act of rebellion, he may become your puppet and not the other way around. After all, you both were powerful. In your own way.

And you both win and lose in different batches of this game between you two.

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slutforsnow · 3 months

Text

Chapter 10 :3

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY POOKIES <3 this is my Valentine's day gift to you all since I've been sick for the past 2 days :3

TW/CW: briefly talking about what Festus did to Sunni

“Oh my fucking God, I can't escape him!!” Sunni sighed out, exasperated. The group had stopped by the best restaurant/karaoke place in District 2 for dinner and Sunni had gone to place everyone's orders, despite her childhood friends arguing that they'd do it. She had simply snuck away to place everyone's orders with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Escape who?” Nero asked, flipping his jacket hood up, with a curious look.

“Please don't tell me it's Festus,” Sejanus begged, looking at Sunni who took her seat in between Nero and Coryo. Nero was on the end, then Sunni, Coryo, Sejanus, Vivian, Dele, Nataila,Viktor and then finally Demitri.

“That's exactly who it is,” She replied, smoothing out her dress as she noticed how it rode up her thigh. She wasn't looking for the wrong kind of attention.

“Alright, that's it, I'm killing him,” Coryo announced, standing up, only for Sunni and Sejanus to pull him back to his seat.

“No! No, no, no, Coryo,” The two protested, bringing him back down. Sunni, deciding to put him in a mild state of shock, sat on Coryo's lap to keep him down. Coryo stiffened and sat up straight, not moving a muscle. He was grateful he had his curls so the others didn't see how red his ears became at her spur-of-moment decision.

‘Well that calmed him down-’ Sejanus thought, mildly surprised to see Sunni being so bold. Coryo barely listened to him anyway and the way Sunni managed to keep him in place and not get arrested made Sej quite impressed. Though he didn't like the method, it seemed to work. He'd talk to Sunni about it later, as to not make the evening awkward.

Swallowing, Coryo pulled out his phone to distract himself and from the blood rushing to his head and praying Sunni didn't feel it. He didn't want her to think of him as weird for getting hard in a setting like this. What would she think of him? Would she cut him off like how Tigris did to Grandma'am’s overwatered roses? Sharply and without hesitancy? He wouldn't have that—not when he was getting close so making her his sunflower.

He decided to focus on making that photo Sej had sent him as his lock screen and photoshop some of the pictures from the protective stalking he and Sej had done to be him and Sunni instead of Festus and Sunni.

“So… what's bad about this Festus guy?” Viv asked slowly to alleviate the tension that had fallen around the booth the group had been seated at.

“So, he's my ex. He drugged and humiliated me at a party the Saturday after midterms were over for believing that he actually loved me,” Sunni explained, leaning into Coryo's chest holding his free hand around her waist to massage the tension out of his hand as her other hand gently spun the rings that added elegance to his otherwise bony hands.

“HE WHAT?!” The group, aside from Coryo and Sej, shouted, making Nero wince in pain.

“Ow,” He grumbled, turning his hearing aids down somewhat.

“Sorry, Nero,” the others said, feeling bad for causing him pain; despite being an otherwise loud group, they did try to keep their surprise low for him so it didn't fuck with his hearing aids.

“It's fine, but Sunni why isn't he arrested?” He asked, waving off the others’ concern.

“No proof or anything to prove it was him; it'd be my word against his, not to mention Sej and Coryo would only have their words against Festus too,” She answered, gently squeezing Coryo's hand which had tightened around her waist. She gently rubbed his knuckles, hoping that would calm him down a little bit.

“Yeah, and Festus’ parents have way more money than ours cause we're only just barely above the minimum amount to be living in the Capitol. If we lost, we would've probably been sent to a lower District like 10 or 11,” Sejanus added, noticing how Coryo mildly squirmed at the talk of money. Biting the inside of his cheek, Sej decided to change the subject. “But enough about that, how did you all meet Sunni?”

“Seventh grade, golf club,” Nero said simply. “And she was only one with a dyed yellow streak in her hair.”

“Cafeteria, eighth grade. I was a new student,” Viv replied, shrugging softly.

“Dele, Demitri, Vik, and I met her in a Freshmen arts class where we learned that if you give her a brush, she gets so focused and-”

“Hey-! Hey, hey, hey, no no no don't expose my secrets!!” Sunni's cheeks had turned bright red when she realized where Nat was going with that. Sej and Coryo didn't know that yet and she wanted to keep it that way.

“What? You mean to tell us that you haven't told them!?” Maxima inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Told us what?” Coryo asked, putting his phone in his pocket, having finally calmed himself down. Sure, Sunni wasn't the first person to sit on his lap, but this was the first time someone did it to calm him down.

“Maxie, no-!!”

“Maxie yes! Sunni paints realism! Mainly sunflower fields!” They replied, beaming as 2 waiters brought over the group's dinner. Sunni noticed Coryo's attention was immediately grabbed by the smell of food, and she slid off his lap, sitting back between him and Nero as the group sorted everyone's dinner and drinks.

Almost 2 hours later, the group had learned a lot about each other and seemingly grew closer. Except for Nero and Coryo.

Anytime Nero spoke, Coryo would send death glares to him and would tightened his grip around Sunni. Sejanus didn't think much of it as he knew his friend was just being protective of Sunni. Did he find it odd Coryo was protecting her from her own friends? Yes. Was he going to judge him out loud? No, as Sejanus have a desire to live.

By the time everyone paid and was heading back to the hotel and their own homes, Coryo was carrying Sunni on his back as he and Sej made their way back to the hotel, due to Sunni being too tired to walk all the way back herself (and she fell asleep just before they got to the hotel).

By the time the boys got back to their room, after they tucked Sunni in bed, Sejanus passed out on his bed. Coryo went into the hotel room's shower and turned on the hot water. He exhaled shakily and stared at the tent in his pants.

How the hell did Sunni not notice it when she was sitting on his lap?

Around 5am the next day, Coryo was wide awake and scrolling on his phone. He had barely gotten any sleep, so he wasn't in a good mood already. Sighing, he went to text Sunni and frowned seeing her text back so quickly.

Sunni jumped a little hearing a knock at her door and slowly came out of her bed. She opened the door and giggled a little, feeling Coryo wrap his arms around her waist. He didn't give her a minute to process what was happening as he scooped her up, making her wrap her legs around his waist and tighten her grip around his neck.

“Cori!!” She squealed out as he shut the door behind him.

“Hm? Yes, Sunshine?” He murmured, looking up at her.

“This isnt gonna make me not ask you what's bothering you,” She laughed out, pushing his curls out of his face.

“But it sure as hell will distract you,” He replied, sitting on her bed, letting her sit on his lap.

“Uh-huh, sure, but quick thing, why are you so cold? You feel like ice,” She inquired with a small frown.

“‘M always cold,” He answered simply, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“Well, guess what? Cuddling with me means you're gonna be warm,” Sunni told him, playfully pushing him to lay down. Grabbing her blanket, she draped it over herself and him, snuggling him.

Blushing furiously, Coriolanus was grateful that the hotel room was almost pitch black. Pulling her closer to him, he ran his fingers through her hair. He didn't think one person could be so soft and comforting like Sunni was. She was warm, sweet, cuddly, and… non-judgmental. Something Coryo wasn't entirely used to. Sure, Sejanus wasn't judgemental and was nice, Tigris was warm, and Grandma'am was kindhearted but those were the people who he let into his heart. Sunni was different; she dug her way into his heart and refuses to leave. But Coryo didn't mind. He actually liked it for once.

“Gonna tell me what's bothering you now, Cori?” She whispered.

“Nope.”

“Asshole.” Coryo could only laugh. He knew she didn't mean it. She didn't say ‘asshole’ in a condescending way or shove him away. She was teasing him. He had to admit it, to himself at least, he loved it.

"You know you love me," He shot back with a smirk and chuckling as she sat up a tad to see his face as best as she could.

"Cause you're the best," She told him. Coryo felt his ego expand and rubbed her back, soaking up her warmth.

"Mm, nah, you are," He replied, pulling her back down him to keep her close to him.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings @nowitsmissing @poppyflower-22 @kuromismom7 @xjinnix @flw3rrr @plathsotherib @beaphobia @valeskafics @aoi-targaryen @elayasversion @dianaaxoxo

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blondbrat · 4 months

Text

PERVERT!CORIOLANUS SNOW

includes ; 18+ fem!reader. pervert!coryo. male masturbation. sexual illusions. sexual obsession. possessive!coryo.

you were so pretty, so mean — like a pristine prize created purely for coryo

the way your hand shot up when the teacher asked a question you obviously knew — which was them all. the way your eyes scanned the thick paged books like u were devouring the words themselves

he couldn’t help but stare, no, more than that, look at you the way you looked at the brilliant words plastured on the nude colored pages. because he was hungry. and you were his pretty prey

his cold, untouchably irresistible brat — whom coryo loved seeing the way your pretty face furrowed in challenge whenever he got called on first. shooting you his famous smirk.

he was obsessed with your attention — your eyes, your brain and fuck, your body.

coriolanus swore those little schoolgirl miniskirts you insisted on wearing would be the death of him ! and those pure white shirts? with your perky, busty tits? he was convinced you did it just for him — his cruelly taunting addiction

how could he not? how could he not grow instantly hard at the sight — his thick, demanding cock bulging against the seams of his trousers. throbbing as he watched your mean little mouth spur answer after fucking answer

the very creases of his pants were driving him insane — but not nearly as much as the thought of that mouth wrapped around his shaft. coating him in your bratty spit as you bob and gag all around him

the fantasy of your red lipstick curling around his angry head, leaving a crimson ring

he watched you squirm in your seat — merely getting more comfortable. and he groaned at the sight. god fucking hell, how you would feel writhing in his lap. trying so hard not to whimper as he grinds you agaisnt him — lacy panties becoming awfully wet. your glistening essence.

god, imagining you dripping has his dick twitching. how he would drag his red tip through your drooling folds, coating his length in your slick, sweet wetness.. fuck, his balls tightened at the fantasies rolling through his head

and the way you bit your fucking lips… — before he knew his cock was bulging agaisnt his hand, panting as he hid in the academy bathroom.

hiding wasn’t the right word — not when his wrist was snapping, pumping into his hand like a fleshlight. his blue eyes screwed shut, you were in his head, you were the reason he was fucking his hand. flicking his wrist ever so slightly that he was groaning

because oh god, if it was your tight little cunt or your wet mouth.. he’d be cumming within fucking moments. just like he was know, the white, sticky ropes staining his toned abdomen

soon, it would be you bent over the sink, ass bouncing as he slams into your gummy pussy, you who becomes covered in his sticky mess as he coats your silken walls in his white cum

you were his prey

#₊˚ପ⊹ chars writing #₊˚ପ⊹ coryo #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coryo smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x y/n

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cartierre · 5 months

Text

RACE MY MIND | tom blyth

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU tom blyth x fem!driver!reader

side note: that's my man right there aaaaahhhhh side note pt2: for story purposes, we're just going to act as if tbosas came out before the end of the 2023 season! side note pt3: went a lil overboard with the interviews oops

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, tomblyth and 637,948 others

yourusername anything for my number one fan

view all 5,349 comments

user1 Y/N IS SO INSANE

user2 okay hold on okay hold ON

tomblyth president snow? no, president of y/n's fanclub comment liked by yourusername

user3 ik her dropping tom in her dump is insane but yk what is also insane? how much cunt she's serving ⤷ user4 someone finally speaking the facts

user5 no podium for the last race but she still ate with this post

♡ liked by arthur_leclerc, carmenmmundt, tomblyth and 601,283 others

yourusername fan service went a lil crazy with this one

view all 6,394 comments

user6 wait does this- are they dating?

user7 oh wow they really took the fast lane huh

user8 y/n did what lucy gray couldn't

tomblyth guess snow lands on top after all ⤷ yourusername i-

user9 TOM SO FUNNY LMAO

user10 he manifested that shit so hard

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itsbuckytm · 5 months

Text

Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow

summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.

I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!

How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you.

You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse.

During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal.

You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay.

After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.

You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time.

Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it.

Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual.

The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right.

When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out.

Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes.

He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that."

"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is.

You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along.

Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies.

The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year.

According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you.

Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers.

The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers.

It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered.

True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red.

Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!"

Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance.

The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to."

That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.

"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."

Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident.

By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving.

On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say.

How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon.

"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.

"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."

"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere.

"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning.

And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem.

Y/N, Snow.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #coryo #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagines #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader

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alavestineneas · 5 months

Text

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion.

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way.

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her.

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better.

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle.

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago.

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life.

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less.

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns.

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet.

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation.

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine.

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us."

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin.

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep.

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus."

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?"

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on."

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?"

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?"

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners.

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist.

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position."

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

"Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student."

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration.

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own."

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else.

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception.

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man.

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out?

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table.

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake.

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving.

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense."

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her.

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success?

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful.

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish.

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.''

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air."

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit.

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her.

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time.

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring.

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath.

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

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