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#Coriolanus snow x district!girl
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hii!! could i request a snow fic where she finds out she cheats on him and voluntarily tributes and hes trying to get her back? i loved the other fics!! I NEED MORE CHEATING SNOW FICS OMGG
Don’t blame me, love made me crazy. || Young President!Coriolanus snow x district!reader
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A/n: Sorry anon I hope you’re not disappointed that I didn't fully write your request. I wanted Coryo to lowk suffer in this which is why I didn't dive into details of him getting her back. There is also one scene that is heavily inspired by a scene in the movie Priscilla! I also spent so many hours perfecting this and it was super fun!!!
Warnings: fem!reader, implied infidelity, toxic!coriolanus, manipulation, not proofread, if there's anything else pls lmk!
Wc: 1609
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
The rapid clicks echoed throughout the hallway, the sound reverberating off the 12-foot-high ceiling walls. You walk with an eager stride, each step filled with anticipation as you take the familiar route to Coriolanus' office where he spent most, if not, all of his time cooped up in due to the upcoming hunger games.
There was a heaviness in your heart. You have always been the epitome of grace and composure, a woman who played her role in the political theater with finesse, albeit your brief upbringing in district 2. However, behind closed doors, the truth unfolded, resulting in you heartbroken and most of all betrayed. You couldn't ignore the letters that would pile up weekly, the gifts, all for him, from someone by the name Lysandra.
Not bothering to knock, knowing it would provoke a reaction from him, you forcefully swung the double doors open. There sat Coriolanus Snow, seemingly unbothered at your entrance. "Is there a problem?" An icy, impersonal tone carried his words, sharp and emotionless.
Your nose flared as you felt a surge of frustration, his lack of concern and emotion fuelling your anger. Besides, you had never stormed into his office unannounced before. Surely, he would question your sudden abruptness and, visibly, your anger.
Your voice, though filled with a trembling resolve, posed the question, "Who is she?" You hold a letter between your fingers, lifting it up to show him. He lifts his head up from his papers. "And why on earth is she sending my husband gifts and-and love letters?" You stammer, throwing the piece of paper with writing and a kiss—in the form of a lipstick mark in a shade of deep red—on his desk; your façade crumbling at your feet.
Snow stares at you before a scoff leaves his lips, leaning back on his chair. "You know how the people admire me, it's likely that whoever it is, she's simply passionate about expressing her feelings to me," Coriolanus shrugs. Your eye twitches at his response. Lies.
"Really? Well, Lysandra is ever so passionate about expressing her undying love for you," You recite the words from her letter as you watch a subtle glint of knowing in his eyes, "She's the only one who has described her so-called affection for you so intimately!"
As you question your husband's loyalty, an unsettling quiet settles around him. His eyes, cold and calculating, hold yours without a trace of vulnerability. The absence of words from his lips becomes a formidable response, leaving an ominous uncertainty lingering in the air.
His office echoed with a tense hush, broken only by a subtle tapping of his fingers against the armrest in a rhythmic patter. "For god's sake, Coryo. Say something! Who is she?" The slip of his nickname makes you swallow.
"I won't entertain your accusation. She's merely an admirer, nothing more! Have you finished exhausting yourself with this matter, wife?" Coriolanus seethes, abruptly standing up as he gathers his papers, opens his drawer, shoves them in, and slams it shut with such force that you swore you felt it in your bones.
"Is there something your hiding from me?" There was a tense silence that followed your question, Snow's features contorted with a mix of frustration and defiance. Avoiding eye contact, he clenched his jaw and emitted a sharp exhale. The air was thick with unspoke tension, revealing an anger that simmered beneath the surface.
"I have nothing to hide from you," He says calmly but you knew damn well there was anything but calmness within him. Annoyed and frustrated at the lack of information, you open your mouth again.
'"Throughout our entire marriage, I have done nothing but showed you how grateful I am that you chose me to marry, a district girl. You helped me build a reputation here in the capitol so that I would finally be respected, and now, I ask just one simple thing of you," As you speak your voice wavers slightly, revealing the depth of emotion behind your words. "Who is she to you?"
In mere seconds, Coriolanus storms past you, a blur of motion, leaving you momentarily bewildered as you blink, only to find yourself in the same spot. "Coriolanus!" You yell, spinning around as you follow him. "I've just had about enough of you for today y/n," He spat as he briskly walked up stairs, you following him. Servants who were around hurriedly walk pass, heads down.
He steps into your shared private chamber, adorned with decadent furnishings and overlooking the Capitol. He walks a couple steps before he just stops. His breath came in heavy, rhythmic waves, his chest rising and falling with urgency, leaving you standing frozen at the entrance.
"You know, I think you should go see your family for a little while," He turns around as you felt your heart drop. "What?" Your voice echoed with a helpless tone. "You heard me, I think your family has been missing you in the districts, go pay them a visit. Tell them how grateful you have been that I chose you as the First Lady of Panem, hm?"
He takes purposeful strides to the next room, filled from top to bottom with expensive, lavish pieces of clothing befitting both him and you. Coriolanus then pulls out a travelling trunk. The thought of you going back to district 2 sent shivers up your spine. You knew that everyone there now thinks of you as a traitor.
"What- No- Coryo, I'm not going-" Coriolanus cuts you off with a yell, tears forming in your eyes, "I think you should! Matter of fact, I'll help you start packing." A loud noise comes from the trunk making contact with the floor making you jump, a sob leaving your lips. The trunk opening as he starts aggressively pulling your clothes from the black velvety hangers, tossing them into the trunk.
"Coryo- please. Don't make me go back there," You fall to you knees in front of the trunk as your shaky hands remove the pieces of clothing from it. "Yeah, well I think a few months in the districts, away from your lavish life here, will make you realise how easy it is that I can send you back there." He forcefully takes your chin in between his thumb and index as your glassy eyes stare back at his icy, raging, blue eyes.
"Please, please don't send me back there-" Your beg becomes interrupted as he drops his grip on you and yells out the door, "Simon! Get the train ready now for Y/n to go back home!" He calls out to his assistant who answers out a "Of course Mr. President," You let out another sob as you rest your head on the pile of clothing.
Coriolanus glances over his shoulder, his breaths lingering in the air, he could hear your quiet pleas. There's a yearning within him, a desire to approach you and envelop you in a reassuring hug, to tell your that everything is alright and that forgives you. Yet, and unyielding pride restrains him, holding him back from acknowledging that what he was doing was wrong.
With one final look, he turns around, leaving you in a crying mess. Coriolanus was going to send you back to district 2 until the hunger games finished, then, he would come get you and hope that your time there made you ponder your actions, although he knew they were quite reasonable.
Your allegiance to your husband shattered when you were forced onto the train, Coriolanus stood a couple metres away from you as you squirm in the peacekeeper's grips. As you made your way back to a place you once called home, a quiet determination settled within you as you hatched a plan that would not only expose Coriolanus' betrayal, but also allow you to reclaim a piece of your shattered identity.
~
As the Reaping day approached, you made a choice that sent shockwaves through the carefully orchestrated world of Panem. With a steady hand, you inscribed your own name on a slip of paper and placed it in the glass ball, committing yourself to the Hunger Games.
On the day of the Reaping, the Capitol Square buzzed with anticipation, the districts, not so much. Coriolanus, very much unaware of his wife's hidden actions, stood in front of the dignitaries on the stage.
The customary ceremony began, the escort pulls a slip pf paper from the glass ball, announcing the male tribute who would face the Capitol's twisted version of justice.
As the tension mounted, the escort unfolded a slip of paper and read aloud, "Y/n Snow." A gasp rippled through the crowd, and Coriolanus's face contorted with disbelief. Time seemed to free as he processed the shock of seeing his wife's name called out. Surely there was a mistake.
The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer, and anger boiled within him, mixing with the shock and confusion as the crowd erupted in whispers. A woman of Capitol elegance was now standing among the district 2 residents.
You weave through the rows of people, maintaining a stoic expression. As you step up on the stage, your eyes land on the camera a couple feet away from you where you know Snow was watching back in the Capitol.
Coriolanus stared at your face and in that moment, he saw the resolve and defiance that had replaced the hurt in your eyes. The Capitol, known for its love of spectacle, witnessed an unprecedented turn of events. Coriolanus Snow, the powerful President, was rendered speechless as his own actions came back to haunt him in the cruelest twist of fate.
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sabsgames · 5 months
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one thing i don’t think people talk about enough in the THG is Peeta’s rebelliousness. like sure we focus on Katniss because she played such a huge role in the whole rebellion but Peeta’s situation is so interesting to me. like he went into the games prepared to die, he knew that he hadn’t a chance (or if he did a very small one) of beating Katniss and the Careers but still he kept loyal to who he was. he refused to bend to the animalism nature that lot of the children in the games develop. its also very telling when his talent in catching fire was a depiction of Rue in her bed of flowers thus showing that he refused to let the capitol ignore their crimes. he takes something so tragic that united the district (11 giving Katniss bread) and simultaneously calls outs the capitals brutality whilst also letting them know that they caused what they fear. unity. hes just so simple and calm in his rebellion compared to Katniss’s direct approach that i feel the smaller aspects sometimes get swept under the rug…anyway stan firegirl and breadboy <3
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mitsuki91 · 3 months
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Lucy Gray really said "Let me be your therapist, Coryo, so we can progress into this polycule and be healty about us together" and I really love her for this.
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ervotica · 5 months
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please don’t go, i love you so
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
“Wanna show me just where you belong?”
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etfrin · 4 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞
ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ
series by etfrin | not to be post anywhere without permission!
coriolanus snow x fem! reader
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snow lands on top
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series taglist | series playlist | navigation
about: coriolanus snow refuses to have a district girl (albeit grown up in the capitol) as his soulmate. it's humiliating and below his status. and so with the 10th annual Hunger Games begins creating the utter most chaos in his life and makes him face everything he had ignored! (movie compliant)
note: some dialogue and paragraphs are taken from the book [the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes]
I do not own any of the hunger games characters or original stories, only the plot of this fanfic.
cross-posted on ao3
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prologue !
chapter one !
chapter two !
chapter three !
chapter four !
chapter five ! part one | chapter five ! part two
chapter six !
chapter seven !
chapter eight !
chapter nine !
chapter ten !
chapter eleven !
chapter twelve !
chapter thirteen !
chapter fourteen !
chapter fifteen !
chapter sixteen !
chapter seventeen !
chapter eighteen !
chapter nineteen !
chapter twenty !
chapter twenty-one !
chapter twenty-two !
chapter twenty-three !
chapter twenty- four !
THE END . . .
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cherienymphe · 5 months
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Everybody Knows That I'm A Good Girl, Officer (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
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WARNINGS: Dub-Con, power imbalance, abuse of power, degradation, manipulation, slight stalking, choking, semi public sex, mentions of cockwarming, mentions of gun kink, dom/sub elements, free use elements, jealousy
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies
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summary: ...and everybody knows. Everybody knows...that he fucks you.
~
You didn’t know a thing about Coriolanus Snow.
Not until he quite literally cornered you in the meadow one day.
Peacekeepers came and went, especially in District 12, so you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any new face that appeared on the streets of your district in those blue uniforms. In truth, you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any of their faces. They all perfectly blended together into one faceless being that was merely a puppet of The Capitol, anyway.
However, standing in front Coriolanus Snow, you wondered how you missed him. Not because he was handsome—and he was—but because there was a hard glint to his blue gaze that told you he wasn’t the average capitol dog. Gun tight in his hand at his side, he stared at you like he wasn’t at all surprised to find you there.
He wasn’t.
You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to watch you, silent footsteps shadowing yours as he wondered what you were up to when you crossed the district line. He liked to watch you pick flowers and write underneath a tree and bring back the occasional caught animal for your ma and pa. He watched you play with the children in your district and help that old neighbor with her window…and steal food on occasions when your family couldn’t afford it.
“You could get into a lot of trouble for that.”
His tone was even and strong, but something about it told you that he didn’t want you to get in trouble for that.
“I know,” you told him, jutting out your chin as if challenging him to do something about it.
You said nothing, merely pressing your back to the tree when he moved closer, the gentle breeze ruffling the tall grass around his feet. You said nothing when he stood so close that you could smell him, wondering to yourself what a peacekeeper could possibly have access to that would make him smell so good. You even remained quiet when his free hand reached for yours, the softness of it shocking you, a sharp inhale when he turned your hand over.
Your palm was lightly stained from the bird you’d killed.
You curiously eyed him, a slight frown between your brows as he studied the skin. You drank in his prominent nose, full lips, and those unsettling blue eyes. Staring at them for too long actually made you uneasy, and when his gaze lifted to meet yours, you couldn’t look away fast enough. It only then occurred to you that you were out in the woods alone…with a peacekeeper who could do absolutely anything he wanted to you.
His next words surprised you.
“If someone other than me were to catch you…I can’t imagine what they’d do to you,” he murmured, making your frown deepen. “So, I would advise you to stop.”
By the way the corner of his mouth twitched, you knew that your shock and confusion was all over your face. When he dropped your hand, he pointed his gun at your catch of the day in a gesture for you to get your things, waiting for you to grab your dinner and your book.
You thought that he was letting you off the hook.
You thought wrong.
You learned that Coriolanus Snow was not a good man.
“Your daughter dropped these, ma’am, and I knew she’d kick herself if I didn’t bring these home.”
That smile on his pink lips was perfect, blue eyes twinkling when your mother thanked him profusely for bringing home your groceries—groceries you both knew you didn’t buy. When your eyes met his over her shoulder, that charming smile didn’t move an inch, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you felt.
“Thank you,” you told him the next day, seeking him out.
He wasn’t technically on duty, and you found your gaze lingering on the dog tag around his neck. However, you found your gaze lingering on his face instead when he took a step closer, gaze unreadable.
“Anytime.”
It was a strange thing to say about bringing you food that you didn’t buy, and when he took another step towards you, your face pinched ever so slightly. You were all too aware of your close proximity, and when you felt his chest lightly brush against yours, your lips parted in realization. The moment it clicked had your blood running both hot and cold, uneasy and conflicted.
As you stared at each other, there seemed to be a lot of unspoken words between you, Coriolanus with one hand on the wall and you with one hand fidgeting with your shirt. You looked between his eyes, looking for some hint of hesitation, some evidence that deep down this wasn’t something he actually wanted to do…but there was none. There was a resolve in his gaze that felt all too familiar. It was the same determination you were sure was in your gaze anytime you swiped food for your household.
The same determination when your desperation won.
You took a deep shuddery breath.
“Anytime…?” you wondered, keeping your eyes on him.
Something in his face relaxed, evening out as he completely crowded you, now.
“Anytime.”
When his lips met yours, you didn’t exactly know what to do, feeling both unsure and sure at the same time. You were sure that you wanted to live comfortably and not have to wonder how you’d get your next meal, but you were so unsure of how this would end and what this would mean for you. You wouldn’t be the first girl to give herself to a peacekeeper or the mayor or whoever else she needed to just to ease the weight in her chest.
Coriolanus kissed you like he was the hungry one, lips moving against yours in a way that left you breathless. His hand wouldn’t stop kneading into your waist through your shirt, and his other found a home on your face, thumb brushing over your skin and tilting your head back. The only thing to pull you apart was a noise coming from inside the building you were pressed against, and when the blond man told you to hurry home, you did.
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You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked obedience.
He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed repeating himself, and you learned that quickly, so now when he told you to get on your knees, you didn’t hesitate. When he told you to open your mouth, you did, and when he practically begged you to look up at him, you did. Coriolanus would never beg, he would never do that, but it was evident in the way his voice strained—the way the words left him breathlessly.
Or maybe that was because you had your lips around his cock.
With a hand in your hair and a hand on your chin, he gently guided you to take him into your throat again and again. You were no virgin, but there were still a lot of firsts to be had for you, and sliding your tongue over the tip of him was one of them. The feel of his fingers massaging your scalp soothed you, made this less nerve-wracking, and to your surprise, it even stroked a slowly burning fire between your legs.
There was such a stark contrast between the gentle touch of his fingers in your hair and the harsh hold of his hand on your chin. It wasn’t the easiest to take all of him into your mouth, and you couldn’t swallow down the noise that escaped when he hit the back of your throat. His smooth baritone reached your ears when he gently shushed you, softly telling you to use your hands.
“Wrap them around me,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet room.
Coriolanus liked obedience…so you did.
Your hand slid along his length in time with your lips, twisting around his cock, an easy task with the help of the mess you were making. He didn’t seem to mind though, only groaning above you, and when you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, you took in the way his head was thrown back, the skin of his throat straining and bobbing as he swallowed.
When he lowered his head, you started to look away, but the tightening of his hand in your hair told you not to. You kept your eyes on his as best as you could, sucking your cheeks in and flattening your tongue against the side of his cock. Every bob of your head made him shudder, and you dropped your hand when his hands came to rest on both sides of your head.
Remaining still for the man standing over you, you kept your mouth open as he slowly began to push his hips forward. With every surge of them, his cock dipped into your waiting lips, sliding over your tongue and against the inside of your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks as he lost himself in his movements, blue eyes gazing down at you as he filled your mouth.
You didn’t know why—couldn’t understand it—but something about his outright use of your body and your lips had you squeezing your thighs together. It made heat settle in the pit of your stomach, twisting and burning violently until your not-so-subtle movements became noticed by him. In between his uneven breathing, a soft chuckle reached your ears.
“You’ll get your turn.”
…and he was a man of his word.
With the taste of him still on your tongue, Coriolanus had one forearm completely pinning your hips to the bed as he pressed his face between your thighs. Another first ripped away from you, wide gaze on the ceiling as you fought to keep from squirming. The feel of his tongue inside of you was jarring, and you couldn’t stop your toes from curling at the warm feel of it quite literally lapping at you.
Your hands came down to rest on his short blond hair, hips attempting to lift from the mattress, chest arching upwards towards the ceiling. When he hummed between your legs, you felt it all over, and you couldn’t stop the moans that climbed out of your throat. With him holding you down, the only appropriate thing to do was claw at whatever you could, turning your head from side to side.
It wasn’t enough for you to come into his mouth once. Coriolanus needed to know that he was the best you’d ever get, and even when you were out of breath and exhausted and overstimulated, he didn’t let your thighs go, only using them to drag you closer as he knelt between them. His perfect teeth winked at you when he leaned in to kiss you.
If your ma and pa wondered what kind of job you lucked out with to afford all of the food and clothes you started to bring home, they didn’t ask. Although, something in you suspected that they had an inkling of just what you had to do to bring home the freshest bread and the warmest clothes they’d ever had. You started to suspect that everyone did.
Coriolanus wasn’t exactly the most discreet, and you learned that he didn’t intend to be.
On the off chance you crossed paths in the street, he stopped you for all to see, voice lowering as he got really close and asked you how you were. You would feel the eyes of his peacekeeper friends on you as the unspoken questions lingered between you. Did you need more food? Did you need a new dress? You would tell him that you were fine, code for you didn’t need anything at the moment, and he wouldn’t try to hide his perusal of you, those unsettling blue eyes slowly dragging over your frame.
He didn’t seem the kind of asshole to brag about such things, but you weren’t stupid. Even without saying it, he made your arrangement abundantly clear. The way he talked to you, studied you, and ran his fingers over the back of your arm without a care as to who saw. Coriolanus had staked a claim on you, an unspoken display of ownership, and you wrote it off to some sick power trip.
…but you learned that Coriolanus Snow was a very jealous man.
That revelation struck you as odd because you didn’t think anyone would have anything he’d be jealous of, and you certainly didn’t think he’d be jealous over you. You were some average thieving girl whom he exploited the first moment he saw an opportunity to do so. Considering that he was willing to do it to you, you didn’t doubt that he was willing to do it to someone else should he find himself unable to have you anymore. That was what you believed anyway…
Until his fist was ruining the face of some District 12 boy you’d grown up with. You were far from friends, but he’d been a familiar constant in your life for years, and so sharing a drink with him while everyone danced to the live music on stage seemed like nothing at all to you. You didn’t even think there were lines to cross, a sentiment that was quickly corrected.
With one hand curled around your throat—holding you in place—there wasn’t any other option but to take Coriolanus’ thrusts. The sound of guitars and flutes and fiddles bled through the thin walls, everyone quickly moving on from the brief display of violence they’d witnessed. You could still remember the shock on your face as other peacekeepers pulled him off of the unsuspecting man who’d never been anything more than an acquaintance, really.
Your horrified gaze had met that of a familiar blue, and there wasn’t much time to do anything before Coriolanus neared you, reaching for the back of your neck as he walked you away from the crowd. It had been hard to ignore the numerous eyes following your movements, and you wondered now if they quickly moved on from the display because it was nothing or because they were too nervous to get involved with Coriolanus and the girl the whole district knew belonged to him.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out in some back room, your chest pressed to the table.
Your eyes were squeezed shut as he stretched you out, cock pushing into you and throbbing with every push of his hips. You knew that the words wouldn’t change anything, but you felt compelled to say them, anyway. His fingers were tight against your neck, and every time you reached up towards them, he only squeezed tighter. Despite the discomfort, you couldn’t stop your stomach from squeezing, coiling tight as you gripped him.
When he pulled you up so that your back was firm against his, his hold on your neck loosened a bit, and you took a deep inhale. His thumb was pressed to your jaw, and he brought his face down to rest on the other side of your neck where his arm didn’t rest, pressing open mouthed kisses there.
“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” he whispered against your skin.
It was the truth, and at your silence, he squeezed your neck again.
Your nails scraped against the table he fucked you on, upper body straining as he kept you upright and against him, hips lifting to push his cock into you with the kind of thrusts meant to make a point. When his teeth grazed your skin, you shuddered in his hold, and despite the fact that you couldn’t hear his laugh, you felt it deep within his chest.
“He can’t give you what I can…”
You started to tell him that you knew that, but Coriolanus didn’t let you.
“…so, don’t go thinking he can.”
“I wouldn’t…”
Your words died in the air when he pushed you back down, completely pressed against you and pinning you between him and the table.
“Wouldn’t you?” he hummed, his free hand trailing over your visible cheek. “Everybody knows your price.”
The demeaning words made your stomach turn, but the way he curved his hips against you only had you clenching down on him at the insulting insinuation.
“They see the nicer clothes…the better living conditions…and they know why. They know what you did to get that.”
His lips brushed against your skin with every word, and as if it make his point, he reached down between your legs to brush his thumb over you, making you gasp. With the circling of his fingers, you fidgeted beneath him, toes pushed to the absolute tip to get some reprieve and lips parted as you scraped and clawed at the table.
When he came inside of you, something he never did before, he held you down, forcing you to milk his cock until he was completely satisfied. The nice dress he’d gotten sewn for you was ripped, and you reached up to touch it with trembling lips the moment he let you go. He was so determined to get his hands on you the moment the door was shut that you liked to think it was an accident, but the way you were forced to wear the jacket of his uniform as you walked out made you think otherwise.
Even though Coriolanus was nowhere near you once you rejoined the crowd, his presence was still loud and clear. No one needed to be a genius to figure out where you’d been, and as you glanced around, you realized that he was right. The discreet looks and nervousness around you… Everyone knew.
…and you didn’t know how to feel about it.
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You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to have you whenever and wherever he wanted.
Whether it was in his bunk when he should’ve been on duty or in your room during the early hours of the morning when your pa was in the mines and your ma was asleep or between the openness of the trees when you were only amongst the grass and the birds. He didn’t like disobedience, and so, he didn’t like the word no. So, you never uttered it.
Even when you wanted to.
“Good girl,” he purred into your lips when you did as he wanted, reaching down between you and sliding yourself onto his cock.
It was late when he knocked on your door, gently telling your ma to go back to bed when you answered it. You didn’t know if you wanted to see the look on her face when you left with him, afraid of what you’d see. There was a rare stillness about District 12 when you crossed the district line, Coriolanus’ fingers brushing over your neck the entire way.
The only light was from the moon, his soft hands gripping your hips and guiding you over him. His gaze alternated between your face and his lap where you two connected. Occasionally he lifted his own hips, driving his cock up into you and making you gasp. His hands ran up and down your frame, kneading your skin and basking in the thin layer of sweat that clung to you—to both of you.
“Show me how bad you want it,” he’d murmur in the darkness, completely letting you go.
He opted for leaning back on his elbows, his own pink lips parted, blue eyes glinting under the light of the moon as he watched you fuck yourself onto his cock. Your hands pressed against his chest, keeping yourself upright as your lashes fluttered. There was a burn in your hips that ached too good to stop, the sound of you squeezing him and sliding up and down him loud to your ears.
“Make yourself come,” he’d whisper, refusing to touch you as his voice lowered. “Work for it.”
When you finally did tense on top of him, shuddering and pressing your nails into his chest, the blond man wouldn’t hesitate to circle his arm around your waist, flipping you before you could even catch your breath. Back pressed into the grass, he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the air.
Under the cover of darkness, Coriolanus allowed himself to lose control, holding your throat and pushing into you—taking full advantage of having you at his mercy. He plunged his cock into your walls, praising how wet you were for him and how snugly he fit inside of you.
“Whenever I want,” he told you.
“Whenever you want,” you agreed, nails digging into his back.
When you returned in the early hours of the morning, your ma never acknowledged it. She never acknowledged how the house stayed stocked with food despite you never going to the market. Her only acknowledgement of the clothes sewn for her were quiet ‘thank yous’…but she knew. Everyone knew.
…and it bothered you less and less until it didn’t bother you, at all.
It couldn’t bother you.
…because if it did you would have to say no when Coriolanus wanted you to rest in his lap, cock fitting snugly inside of you as he held you there. You would have to say no when he brought you another dress he had made or the freshest groceries you would’ve never been able to afford. You would have to say no when he asked if you were his good girl, demanding you prove it as he slid his gun between your legs, telling you to remain completely still.
…but you didn’t say no to any of that because it didn’t bother you—because it couldn’t bother you. Even when the discreet looks were hard to ignore or your ma started to ask if you’d be out late or you started to feel cheap and used. You couldn’t let it bother you.
You were his good girl, and that was what he told you when he tied a pretty delicate ribbon around your neck for all to see one evening.
It was soft.
White.
Just like snow.
6K notes · View notes
ghostfacd · 5 months
Text
THIN LINE
based on this thought
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
genre: fluff, a bit of angst, descriptions of killing, they’re like in love ig, ooc!snow (he’s still crazy LMAO), SPOILERS for the ballad of the songbirds & snakes, Snow and reader being disgustingly touchy 💀
summary: in which there is a thin line in between yours and coriolanus’ friendship and something more, leading to a sudden shift in your dynamic
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“Coryo! I passed! Coryo!” You shriek in excitement as Casca Highbottom passes one of your papers back. It had taken quite your strength when you were given the task to make new proposals and implements for the new Hunger Games, crying to your best friend Coriolanus about how you’ll never get it done on time.
“Oh yeah?” He asks, looking over at your paper. There was a bright red A+ along with the sloppy cursive writing of Good Job Miss. L/N!
“Good job,” Coriolanus says, snaking his arms over to pull you back into his chest, placing a sloppy but soft kiss on your cheek. “Knew you had it in you.”
The scene makes Arachne Crane let out a moan of disgust, rolling her eyes as she turned to another corner.
“What’s wrong Arachne?” One of her friends asked, and she only points to the two of you, who were too engrossed in each other to notice.
“Snow and L/N, are we even surprised?” Livia let out a huff of irritation.
When Casca Highbottom announced that you all will be meeting in the largest room of the Academy, you thought it was to finally announce the winner of the Plinth prize. The only rightful ones were you and Coriolanus, anyway. And maybe Sejanus, the boy whom you’ve gotten soft for these past few days.
You and Coriolanus entered arm in arm, avoxes had wove through the crowd of students with trays of posca, a concoction of watery wine laced with herbs and honey.
Coriolanus quickly grabbed two goblets, handing one to you and then chugging it quickly down his throat. For a minute, it burned.
“Oh there you two are,” Arachne waves you over, her face gloomy. “Obviously, no amount of bribing would make Sejanus tell me who won the prize. Not like it matters, we all know I deserve it most.”
There was an eye roll from Felix Ravinstill. “Sure Arachne, and I’m the richest man on the planet.”
That earned him a scowl from the girl, who then turned her attention to Sejanus. “He can have as much money as he wants, but he’ll always be district, you know.”
A few of your classmates laugh, nodding in bitter agreement as they watched Sejanus conversing with one of the professors.
“Right.” Coriolanus mumbles, surprising you. He hadn’t ever agreed with Arachne before—calling her a psychopath even—so why was he now?
“Oh please,” the girl snaps back. “You and Y/N are friends with him.”
“We tolerate him,” Coriolanus says, his hand that was holding yours became tighter. “He’s district.”
When Sejanus comes, the murmur of your classmates grows silent, and from the looks of it, he could already tell they weren’t saying much good about him.
“It’s time to assign the tributes.” Is all he says, motioning to Dean Highbottom.
“As you all know, the Plinth prize and money would usually go to the student with the highest mark,” Highbottom begins, clearing his throat. “But this year, we’d like to do something different.”
You can tell Coriolanus has stiffened in his seat. Even though you want to hold his hand and caress it, you know you can’t, so you keep your desire inside.
“Whoever is the best mentor among all of you will be able to win the Plinth prize.”
“Oh that is not fair!” Livia complains. “What if I get some poor weak district girl and she dies 2 minutes in the games?”
“It’s not just about your tribute winning,” Highbottom says, “you will be assessed.”
You and Coriolanus sit through the announcement of which mentor gets which tribute. You had gotten Coral, a girl from District 4 while Coriolanus had gotten the girl from 12. Lucy Gray Baird, apparently.
“Hey, you okay?” You say as you two stepped out from the Academy. “Look at me Coryo.”
He looks up from the ground, his eyebrows furrowed and his face upset.
“He hates me.” He says, referring to Dean Highbottom. “Always has, always will. Gave me the worst district of them all.”
“Hey,” you say, cradling his face as your eyes quickly scanned his. “Don’t say that. We saw Lucy Gray on stage, she can sing and she sure as hell can put on a charismatic personality for the crowd. You’ll be okay, Coryo.”
“I don’t know,”
This was the first time you saw Coriolanus so upset, so lost in his thought. Without a second thought, you pulled his head towards you, giving him a long kiss on his jawline.
“Sleepover tonight?” You ask as you pull away.
“Sure, I just have to tell Tigris first.”
That night, you and Coriolanus talk about your futures under your warm white covers, limbs tangling one another.
“Do you ever want kids, Coryo?” You ask, saying anything that came to your mind.
“Maybe.” He replies. “Only if I find a girl as worthy as you.”
His words make you smile, pulling him closer to your body. “As worthy as me?”
“Mhm. Or else I’d marry out of convenience. For profit. To ensure no one takes advantage of me.”
You shake your head, placing a small kiss on his forehead. “I hope that never happens, Coryo.”
“I hope it never does either.”
You turn over to turn off your nightlight, snuggling yourself under the covers as Coriolanus throws an arm around your frame.
“Goodnight Coryo.”
“Goodnight Y/N.”
- - -
After Coriolanus’ little involvement in the tribute cage, Highbottom, to say the least, was unimpressed. He claimed Coriolanus was breaking many of the Academy rules, including endangering an Academy student. However, he agreed to let the mentors visit their tributes and offer them water or food.
You were talking to Coral, handling her a glass bottle filled with water. If you couldn’t get her out of here, the least you could do is hydrate and feed her.
You turn to look at Arachne, who was busy swinging water in front of her tribute. Her tribute almost looked pitiful as the bottle always seemed to swing out of her reach.
Coriolanus was talking to Lucy Gray, a little too close for your liking, but you knew it was just to discuss strategies.
“You think you’re gonna make it in the arena?” You ask Coral, who only glared at you, taking small sips of water at a time.
“Hey.” Coriolanus suddenly comes up from behind you, once again wrapping his arms around your shoulders before bringing your face in for a long kiss on the cheek.
“Hi,” you giggle, continuing to hold on him as you turned your entire body to face him.
Coral let out a scowl of disgust, eyeing you and Coriolanus up and down.
“Coral, meet my friend, Coriolanus Snow. He’s Lucy Gray’s mentor.” You say, pointing at the girl who was currently talking to another tribute; Jessup, you think his name is.
Coral doesn’t respond, only continuing to snarl at the two of you.
“They’re like wild animals,” Coriolanus whispers in your ear.
“Hey pretty boy,” she finally speaks, smirking from ear to ear. “You were on the truck earlier.”
“I was,” he replied curtly.
“Maybe I can’t kill you—but I’ll definitely kill your tribute.”
Before you could hold Coriolanus back from jumping at Coral, you all hear a scream.
Arachne’s tribute had somehow managed to grab the bottle of water, smashing it against the metal cage and stabbing Arachne directly in the throat with it.
“Oh my god!” You scream, running over to the girl. Although you and Coriolanus disliked her, she was still your classmate, and someone who you spoke to on a regular basis.
“You two, off.” The peacekeepers say, grabbing ahold of you and Coriolanus; dragging you away from the scene.
- - -
The walk to Coriolanus’s home was quiet, aside from occasional twig snapping and leaves falling.
“I’m scared,” you finally say, staring up at Coriolanus. His icy blue eyes bore into yours before they softened.
“I know,” he says, cupping your head in his hands. “I know you’re scared, that should’ve never happened.”
“But it did,” you say, placing your hands into Coriolanus’s coat to keep them warm. “What if it happens to us next, Coryo?”
“Hey.” Coriolanus’s face is only a meter away from yours, lips almost touching. “I’ll never let that happen to you, do you understand? As long as I’m alive, no one will hurt you.”
You nod, a few tears rolled down your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Coriolanus wipes away your tears with his thumb, one of his fingers caressed your cheek lightly. “They’ll have to shoot me dead before anything can happen to you.”
And before you could let out another one of your worries, Coriolanus leans in, placing a much awaited kiss on your lips. He pulls away for air after a minute, forehead against yours.
“I love you, Y/N. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, ever.”
3K notes · View notes
pawnshopbleus · 5 months
Text
On Top
Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader
Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0
Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.
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Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus. 
Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years. 
“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.” 
Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose. 
You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.
“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?” 
“I cheated,” he sighed. 
Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.
Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.” 
Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”
Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus. 
“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions. 
“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with. 
He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.  
He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last. 
Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.
You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss. 
His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.) 
You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.” 
Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner. 
Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt. 
You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?” 
You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”
With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear. 
Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear. 
The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.
“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel. 
Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something. 
Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it. 
Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you. 
Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more. 
His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. 
He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.
Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion
Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out. 
Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock. 
Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling. 
His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure. 
“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.  
You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly. 
Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.
His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more. 
Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite. 
Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship. 
“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.” 
Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.” 
You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo. 
“My dad can-” 
“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”
“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”
“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?” 
This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow. 
“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan. 
You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth. 
And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night. 
Turns out Snow does land on top.
---------------------
Time to study up on straight people sex!
4K notes · View notes
cosmicschmidt · 5 months
Text
UNTIL I FOUND YOU
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PART 2, PART 3
Coriolanus Snow x fem!Reader
Synopsis: When the 18 year old Coriolanus Snow recieves the news that he has to mentor a tribute in order to claim the Plinth Prize, he expected everything but not a shy girl from district 12 to claim his heart.
Word count: 2,4K
Warnings: Lucy Gray does not exsist in this (I´m sorry), some things might not fully add up to the movie plot ´cause I only saw it once and that was two days ago, use of Y/N, it´s implied that the reader is shorter than Coryo, small swearing, simple inhumane Hunger Games topics
Reblogs and requests are always welcomed <3 (just like pointing out grammatical mistakes :))
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Coriolanus Snow did not mean for this to happen.
He did not intend to have this weird tingly feeling in his chest every time he caught a glimpse of her.
He did not mean to fall for his tribute from District 12.
As he patiently sat in his seat with his heart hammering in his chest due to not knowing if he´d receive the scholarship, adrenaline and excitement ran through his veins.
Yet, that was taken from him the moment Sejanus Plinth whispered to him that that certain day he looked forward to would not turn out as he hoped.
The Plinth Prize was won by the best mentor.
Each of them has to mentor a tribute and create the best version of them, create strategies and work on their behavior in the arena.
As all the tributes are presented, their names called alongside their mentors, Coriolanus´ hands start to sweat the longer he is not told who he has to work with.
The faces of his fellow students show different emotions, some cheer in happiness at their tributes state, others are laced with worry if their tribute even manages to walk straight.
"And last but not least, the girl from District 12, Coriolanus Snow."
His eyes shoot back to the small screen, his gaze falls to the name written underneath the short clip, Y/N L/N.
"I volunteer as tribute."
The screen shows a screaming girl, around the age of 11 as she trashes in the hold of someone else´s arms, desperately trying to escape their grasp to reach the other girl.
The other girl's face is slightly blurred due to the wide angle of the camera that is following her figure, but as the picture clears up, Coriolanus can´t help but suck in a breath.
A weird feeling boils in his chest that causes his heartbeat to pick up behind his ribcage, just as he thought it couldn´t get worse a few butterflies form in his stomach causing his white tunic to suddenly feel tighter. His hands go to the collar pulling a little on the fabric to calm his heartbeat.
The tribute from 12, stepped in for the younger girl and took her fate as her own. The girl, now known as Y/N doesn´t look back at the screaming girl, she takes small steps to the stage and steps on it the moment she reaches it.
Although her hands tremble beside her body, her eyes are stern and show no emotion, successfully keeping herself from spilling the dread that formed in her chest the moment her little sister's name was called.
"What a twist! Our first ever volunteer of 12, what an honor." the 12´s mayor speaks, yet no reaction falls from the crowd at his attempt to lighten the mood.
"I suppose that was your sister? Sweet little thing just turned 12, but luckily she has you as her big sister." Mayor Lipp tries to create small talk, but Y/N doesn´t seem to take interest in that, her eyes boring into the camera that is fixated on her face.
Everyone that surrounds Coriolanus watches intensely and waits for her next words.
Y/N´s jaw clenches a little as her gaze wanders over her district's citizens, some laugh at her situation, while others, alongside her family have tears in their eyes and hold a hand in front of their mouths to contain a sob from spilling past their lips.
Instead of words leaving her mouth, she does a mocking and overly dramatic bend forward with her arms stretched out on each side of her body.
Just as two Peacekeepers grab a hold of her arms and pull her off the stage she yells out,
"YOU CAN ALL SUCK I-" but her words muffle due to her being pulled away.
Meanwhile, everyone around Coriolanus starts to whisper.
Some voice behind him, "Who does she think she is?"
"Imagine having to work with that, guess who won´t win the Plinth Prize.." followed by laughing.
And more to his left, "The audacity, I´m telling you she´s the first to bleed out." followed by more remarks and chuckles.
Though Coriolanus can’t feel bothered by their remarks, as he watches her being dragged away from the stage with a stern look on her face.
The blonde watches with bewilderment yet with respect for her volunteering for someone else, a small smirk forming on his face as the side of his mouth pull up a little.
* ˚ ✦
Coriolanus´ gaze is fixated on the white rose in his palms, his eyes trail over each and every flaw he can spot.
Is it pretty enough?
Or is this gesture not normal in the relationship between a mentor and their tribute?
He wonders how you might react to this act of politeness, yet before he can keep up with his thoughts he´s pulled out of it when he hears the train near the train station.
There it is, it glides against the train racks before it comes to a harsh stop with a small screech, the blonde´s eyes trail over the different train carts, wondering where the certain girl from 12 is being kept.
At least a dozen armed Peacekeepers emerge from around the station, and the first cart´s handle is grabbed forcefully and shoved open, a small girl hesitantly jumps down to the ground, before she erupts into a few coughs as if she has to catch her breath from taking a run.
She´s followed by a tall boy who wears a expression he can´t read, although his brows are furrowed and a small line forms between them. The tall male´s eyes immediately find Coriolanus due to his bloody red outfit.
The male doesn´t seem to be the only one, almost everyone that already emerged from their part of the train has their eyes on him.
He fidgets with the rose again, a shiver running down his spine and all the way to his feet and then his toes.
As some tributes are escorted to the transporter outside, Coriolanus finally spots the male tribute from District 12, he remembers his name, Jessup. With a sigh of relief, he takes a few steps to him, and finally, his eyes spot the girl he so desperately tried to find the entire time.
Jessup´s hands are securely wrapped around her waist as he picks her up and helps her out of the train so she can steady herself. She smiles up at Jessup whispers a small ´thanks´ and pats him on his upper arm before she starts to take in all her surroundings.
Although their conversation is muffled, "Are you sure your neck is fine? The bite looks painful..."
Coriolanus´ breathing stops for a second, just now he notices that no camera ever will be able to take in all her beauty, his lips part a little and he can feel his mouth running dry.
Now that Y/N dusted her clothes off and had taken a look around the train station, her eyes move to her right and are met with piercing blue orbs. Although she acknowledged him, he couldn´t help but keep staring at her, the white rose in his left hand long forgotten as it rested next to his body. Confusion dawned on her face as she looked over to Jessup who offered the same expression.
The two of them share a look with a shrug before she turns her back to Coriolanus and starts to take a few steps away from him.
The blonde seems to snap out of it and with a small shake of his head and with two steps he keeps up with her smaller ones.
"Uhm- Welcome to the Capitol." he offers her a smile and holds the rose up for her to see.
Her mouth set in a hard line while her cheeks glowed a tad bit redder than before, "You don´t look like you should be here…?" she asked unsure, her eyes still trained up at his face before they fell on the flower in his hand - which slightly started to tremble -
"Uhm, I shouldn´t, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and I´m your mentor," he adds, the smile still coating his lips as he offers her the rose again.
"Mentor?" she laughs out in disbelief after she finally takes the flower out of his trembling hand and looks at it. Jessup is standing behind her, and his face still shows the same confusion it did earlier.
"Yeah, it´s my job to help you survive the arena," Coriolanus replies, the moment she took the rose out of his grasp his hand went limp and fell back to his side.
"And how exactly-" Y/N doesn´t get the opportunity to reply to his words before someone roughly pulls on her arm and drags her forcefully to the exit of the train station.
Peacekeepers decided to cut their conversation short, they pulled her with them like she weighed nothing, "I can walk by myself perfectly fine." she said loudly before she slapped the hand that was wrapped around her biceps off.
"Wait! I´m her Mentor!" Coriolanus speaks up, yet the distance between mentor and tribute is growing with each second, and the blonde picks up his steps in order to keep up with them.
A few shouts and orders are ringing through the air, the atmosphere filled with dread and an uncomfortable tension. Outside awaits a transporter for the tributes, and like pigs they are thrown and shoved into it, ready to be taken to the slaughterhouse.
The district 12 girl's eyes are trailing behind her trying to catch a glimpse of the red that coats her so-called ´mentor´, she can´t seem to see him but his shouts still reach her ringing ears.
A small hand wraps around her right hand startling the 17-year-old girl, but she quickly relaxes when she sees the small girl from District 8, Wovey. She seems scared by the loud noises, and Y/N offers her a small smile and squeeze of the hand in order to calm her down. Y/N spots a small seat at the back right corner and leads her over to it, there´s not enough space for the both of them, so she lets Wovey take it and stands beside her.
Coriolanus´ opportunity seems to flash in front of him for a split second as a tribute tries to make a run for it, the Peacekeepers running close behind, and with three steps the blonde leaps into the back of the transporter.
He runs all the way to the back of it, before he takes a few breaths trying to tame the adrenaline that shoots through his veins, his breathing calming down from the small thrill he felt.
He straightens down his clothes, and immediately spots Y/N, hand-in-hand with the little girl, her eyes holding awe, yet mostly confusion at why he just ran after her. "What are you doing here?" she whisper-yells, in order not to attract the Peacekeeper's attention.
He can´t help but draw his lower lip between his teeth, letting his actions sink in "Yeah who the hell are you?"
"Uhm-" he starts to speak up, as the other tributes´ eyes hold anger and confusion, most of them standing up and taking a few steps closer to him, cornering him a little. The red that radiates from his red clothes alerts the others.
"I suppose he´s my mentor." Y/N quickly speaks up, her voice cutting through the tension that started to build itself.
"What the hell is a mentor? And why did you get one but we didn´t?"
"Did she get one just because she was the first to volunteer?"
Y/N opens her mouth again to reply but Coriolanus beats her to it, "No, you all get a mentor, I promise the same chances are laid out for everyone." he says with a slightly raised voice so everyone hears his words.
A few unamused chuckles emerge from the ´crowd´ that formed around him, nevertheless a tall guy grabs him by the collar and slams Coriolanus back against the wall behind him pulling a gasp from his lips.
"Don´t shit talk us, what are you doing here?! Are you here to spy on us? What sick games did you plan?!" he yells in his face, although Coriolanus is taller than him, he raises his hands in surrender in order to calm the angry tribute.
Y/N sighs and softly drops Wolvey´s hand onto the girl's lap, she takes a step forward rests her hand on the tribute´s shoulder gently yet harshly, and pushes against him.
"You get your own mentor, now drop it," she says loudly, the tributes around them purse their lips and keep looking at Coriolanus like he´s some meal they can devour.
"A Capitol´s sweetheart could be helpful, why not kill him to send a fucking message." everyone around them agrees except for Y/N and a few in the back, them equally as terrified as Coriolanus.
Coriolanus laughs at their ´plan´ and breathes out a few pained breathes due to him being pressed against the wall, however, before anyone else gets the chance to speak up, the container they are kept in starts to shake a little and then does a jump that causes everyone to lose their balance. The tribute that held the blonde up against the wall let go of him, the everyone including Coriolanus hold onto the nearest thing they could find to steady themselves.
Y/N yelps at the sudden movement that throws her forward and grabs onto Coriolanus´ right arm, the boy in question sneaks his right arm around her waist to steady her and takes hold of a handle that sticks out of the metal wall.
With a rumble and another much harsher shake of the container, the doors suddenly swing open and the place they were kept in for the past 10 minutes moves upwards, changing the position from vertical to horizontal.
A few screams erupt from the group of tributes, and everyone starts to slide out like bags of flour. Y/N yelps again and tries to hold onto Coriolanus, he manages to hold both of their weights, but Y/N´s grip on him loosens when she wiggles in his grasp.
"Wait- Y/N hold on!" he hisses out, but Y/N moves in his grasp trying to get a hold of Wovey´s hand who´s close to sliding down as well.
"Grab my hand!" she yells, but Wovey slips away, and Y/N watches the little girl and Jessup move out of her view into the unknown.
Y/N removes herself from his grasp, just as Coriolanus can´t hold them up anymore due to the shaking wagon, and they all slide into whatever the Capitol planned for them.
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I might consider writing a second part! I hope you enjoyed reading this <33
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Summary: The difference in how he fucked during his different eras.
Warnings: NSFW, taunting, lying, manipulation, virginity taking, marriage, he smacks you, degradation.
Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader
Please be aware of the content you read.
-University student-
University Coriolanus Snow kept most of his thoughts in his head during this time. He was a liar who just needed to keep up a good reputation for his name since that was all that he had.
He did not have the same riches as the other Capitol students.
So, when Coriolanus ended up having a sweet Capitol girl with a rich daddy fall into his hand, nobody said a thing. Everyone thought they were perfect for each other.
Coriolanus would have preferred to wait, but he needed the reassurance that came with taking your virginity. He felt that with being your first, he could somehow permanently plant himself in your mind in case you ever thought of leaving him and his lies.
And, as he had a thumb in your mouth, letting you suck on it while he ever so slowly eased himself into your virgin hole, he hoped he could somehow make you dependent on the way he made you feel.
His kisses were soft, as was the way he thrusted his hips. You'd call this making love with Coriolanus. At this moment, the two of you weren't two Academy students trying to get by while keeping their family names afloat. No, you were two lovers making love in the bed you've slept in almost all your life.
He made it all about your pleasure, wanting you to feel special, like he actually cared about how you felt.
With a slender hand, he reached down to thumb at your clit, making your back arch off of the bed and into his own body. "Shhh. I know, I know." He spoke softly.
If you paid enough attention, you'd notice how he'd momentarily get lost in his own pleasure and would speed up while holding your hips down onto the bed, neglecting whatever you needed in order to reach your peak.
-`♡´-
-Peacekeeper-
Peacekeeper Coriolanus Snow is still knee-deep in his lying and manipulation. How he treats you depends on who you are.
If you were a District 12 inhabitant, then he's more than willing to be rougher with you. You're disposable in his eyes.
Coriolanus finds that he can take you while pressed up against the side of a tree, and when he's done, all that he has to do is give you a few soft kisses on your face before disappearing because of "work".
He's able to just seek you out for a quick fuck, not that he's the type to just sleep around. If you were someone that he was actively manipulating and using to keep him afloat while in (what he considers) the slums, then he would somehow use romance and lust as a way to get closer and closer to you. To make himself seem like the good guy in your eyes.
It would be in a compromising setting, in some sort of missionary position, with your faces right up against each other's. It's a tactic he uses to try and make you feel like you're special and have some sort of soft spot in his life. He'll try to be sweet but lose himself in the process.
Against some building, lit by the moon, Coriolanus' hips thumped against the ligaments near your pubic bone. Your legs were spread, his torso stopping you from closing them, and his hands were holding the flesh of your ass.
"Come on. Just give me a fucking kiss." He whispered, digging his fingers into the fat he holds. His mouth is open, as is yours, the two of you are breathing in each other's breath. It feels intimate to you, and the way he jams himself inside of you makes your breath stop in your throat. He took advantage of that, licking your bottom lip before locking your lips together.
Or you could always just ride him because he feels like you're not worthy enough to have him put in any work.
Now, if you were the same Capitol member as before, and you happened to follow him down to District 12, then he would be more comfortable. Hidden away in the cabin you've been staying in, your face is shoved into the pillows you've slept on for the last few months. A stolen moment between lovers. He finally had a break from his duties, and he was going to take advantage of it.
His body was hunched over yours, and his hands were on your hips, keeping them held up. He was grunting into your ear every time he pushed forward and breathing audibly every time he pulled back. You could feel his dog tag sitting on your spine.
"You're going to get me in... trouble." He panted, leaning back onto his knees, using his hands to guide your hips back and forth. "Can't stay away, can you? You need me, huh?" He smirked, watching as you nodded hastily.
"That's okay. Need you too."
No, he didnt.
-`♡´-
-Post-Peacekeeper/Capitol official/New President-
President Coriolanus Snow only sleeps with the First Lady. Congratulations! You're married. Now you're a puppet that he controls.
There's no longer a need for lies. You're already trapped!
You slept together for his pleasure only, but he'll make sure you finish just so his reputation in bed is not tarnished.
He won't go down on you. He'll only give you a little bit of foreplay before he gets antsy and just dives right in. But he'll hold your hair while you're sucking his dick!
"I'm a gentleman." He defends himself.
Your bed is bigger and softer than it had ever been. It doesn't make your muscles stiff and sore like the one down in District 12.
With your legs hooked over Coriolanus' shoulders, he thrusted back and forth, listening to the lewd squelch your combined bodies make. When you let out a particularly loud cry, he gives you a smack to your face, berating you for breaking his focus.
"I shouldn't even be giving you this, my rose." His voice has an eerie stillness to it. "You've just been acting like a whore. Coming to my office like that? I should have just made you grind against my boot. Hell, I could have just taken you on my desk." He rolled his eyes before smiling. "But I take care of you, don't I? I brought you right back to our bed, where it's comfortable." His words and smile made you feel obligated to nod and give him a 'yes', despite how it felt like he was bruising your cervix.
-`♡´-
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THIS WAS NOT MEANT TO BE POSTED YET‼️ I STILL NEED A SECOND OPINION ON IT!!!
Welp... I hope it's good enough for you.
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snowsinterlude · 4 months
Text
melted snowflake.
(coriolanus x plinth!reader)
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summary: coriolanus never thought he would fall into his own trap. his plan wasn't falling for you. no, it was the contrary, he was supposed to use you. but god, you were so perfect for him.
based on this ask!
c.w: snow being a bit of a jerk, manipulation, jealousy, plinth reader x coriolanus snow, snow being head over heels with you, fluff (?)
you were a district girl, of course. your parents made sure to take that out of your head, but you couldn't simply forget about everything you lived in the districts. you were a child, but it didn't mean you were dumb or blind not to caught up on the things surrounding you.
the first time you saw snow was when your father met panem's president and left you to play on the kindergarden with your brother, sejanus. of course, it didn't go as planned when you were pushed away by a random kid and he protected you and your brother.
of course, after that, he never talked to you guys. a snow is not supposed to talk nor look at poverty with kindness. that's what his grandma'am taught him.
with this being explained, neither him nor his grandma'am expected your family to get richer than the snows, but after his father's death it was only natural they would be poor.
"y/n?" he approached you, now at the academy. he was a beautiful young man, often obtained your attention because of how much praise he recoeved from teachers and others. even though you were rich now, of course you wouldn't fit in as well as he did. not when you and your brother disagreed with everything the capitol kids stood for. "i'm sorry to interrupt you, but the teacher assigned us to do our assignment together." it was a lie. you could tell right away.
but why not see where he'll go with this?
well, that's what you decided to do. every lie he told you made you want to slap him from how dumb he seemed to think you were.
everyday you would caught him staring at you, at your eyes. stealing glances, stealing everything he could from you. hearing your voice was turning out to be the best moments of his days. but you knew deep in your heart that he was taking you for stupid. you were a girl, smaller than him, more soft looking than him, and he thought it was adorable.
but snow, being a snow, had something other than that silly feelings in his body. plans that didn't go as planned when you slapped his face hard, the red print kf your hand on his white skin being visible.
"hey! what are you-?" you interrupted him.
"look, i allowed you to go as far as lie to me about everything, even what others had to say to me. but i will not allow you to say anything about feelings, snow. this isn't funny. this is sick, and twisted. to think you want to have whatever i want so much that you would go as far as say you love me makes me sick." you said, and he blinked his eyes quickly, dumbly looking at you.
"ah, c'mon. don't look at me like that. you really thought i would believe you when you said clemencia hated me? man, she doesn't even know my name!" you kept going, and he gasped a feel times, his hand touching the place you slapped. "stop coming after me."
and you were gone, just like that. everything snow had planned for you both had gone down the drain while you walked away from him.
and after that, he tried to talk to you. he truly did. but you were always so far away from him, and when you caught a glimpse of him walking your way, you would always exit whatever place you were entering.
"man, what you did to the plinth girl? she's running from you like the devil runs from a cross." festus said, watching you exit the library the moment he stood up from the desk they were in.
"i don't know," he said, but he knew what he did to you. he knew he was wrong. and god, the ache he felt on his chest when he saw you laughing at a joke some body made to you was unberable.
that's when he noticed it. that's when he noticed he liked you, more than he planned to. you were supposed to be his accessory, his pretty ornament on the shelf, used when needed to. but now? ah, you had him at your bare feet and you didn't even knew, and if you did, you didn't care.
it was his fault, of course. he didn’t need to tell you that clemencia hated your guts, or that festus was betting that he could fuck you till the end of the year when you said he was pretty, or anything before and after that.
and thinking of that, he had a white bouquet of roses on his hand, provided by his grandma'am when he said he needed to apologize to the prettiest girl he had ever seen. mentally rehearsing his apology and what he would say, he didn’t even notice when he was already at your door, nervously knocking.
you were rich. why was it you the one who answered the door? god, if you were his wife in a near future, you wouldn't even need to move your hands to eat a grape and-
slam!
you closed the door right when you saw the white bouquet on his hand and the ashamed face he had on.
"y/n!" he called you, knocking on the door and pressing the bell of your house multiple times. it was so loud, so irritating, that you opened the door again.
"god, what the hell do you want?!" you asked, angrily frowning at him.
"you," he said. "please, i'm sorry. i-i didn't took you for stupid- you're actually the smartest girl i've seen in the academy, and the prettiest too, and i'm so sorry for being a douchebag to you but i wasn't planning on-" he stopped talking, gulping down.
"planning on what? being a jerk? a liar? a manipulator? a-"
"on falling in love." he said.
"there he goes again." you said, rolling your eyes.
"y/n, i'm serious!"
"prove me." you said, crossing your arms. and he fell on his knees at your feet, placing the roses delicately on your ground. "i'm sorry. i think love is a weakness, i am not used to feeling it- nor any kind of affection towards others but- i can't stand the sight of you, the thought of you being with anyone that isn't me, please-"
ah, how cute. anyone who saw coriolanus at your feet right now would be surprised, his grandma'am would go nuts, saying that snow's are supposed to be on top and not on the bottom of some district girl's feet. but he didn’t mind. he needed to do it. if being on his knees was the only way to get back at you, fuck it. he would be.
"get up." you said, looking away. he obeyed you promptly, eyes looking at you with hope. "that's your last chance, coriolanus." he nodded, almost falling on his knees to kiss your feet.
well, within the span time of seven months, you both were dating. but it didn't change much, coriolanus was always, and i mean always ready to get on his knees for you. he was a sucker for you, even if he was all high and mighty with others, with you, he was a melted snowflake. and he was fine with it.
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
Note
Your writing is insanely good!! I desperately need more of jealous/possessive young!snow making it clear to reader that she’s his and only his. bc “If you ever let another man touch you, I would cut his fucking hands off on the steps of the Capitol Building for everyone to see.” floored me
jealousy, jealousy |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested above, coriolanus is jealous. briefly mentions jealous girl so tagging it here for those to read.
contains: dark, possessive, jealous coriolanus. established relationship. slight manipulation (it's coriolanus).
You were being polite, he knew that. These things were boring and you were simply finding a way to keep yourself occupied, the rational side of Coriolanus told himself that as he watched you from across the room. 
Vulcan was simply a friend, the two of you had gone to Academy together, all through primary and secondary schooling. His family was on the council, which meant your schooling would have been together. Coriolanus didn’t despise him, tolerated him, truly. He thought he was respectable and well mannered, and gave lots of funds to his cause. 
Why did he have to touch your arm like that?
Corio’s grip was so tight on his glass he was sure it would shatter between his hands, cut his palms, slice the skin and trail blood all over the white, marble floors. He had half a mind to do it, maybe that would pull your attention back to him. Have you by him doting and fussing over him, cleaning the glass out of his wounds, bandaging him up because he trusted no one but you. 
Your laugh was crystal, trilling through the air straight to his own heart. How bitter it made him that he wasn’t the one making you laugh. 
Instead, you were laughing with your school friends, Vulcan the center of your attention, entertaining you. 
“Pardon me,” Coriolanus nodded to Dr. Gaul and the others, passing his glass to an Avox. “I must go see the Mayor.” He bowed out politely, always poised, even when his belly was burning with jealous rage. 
He bypassed the Mayor, heading for you instead. “Oh,” Your friend saw you before he did. “President Snow.” She smiled, nudging you gently. 
You turned, and for a moment, Corio’s jealousy was wiped away. Your dazzling smile, eyes lighting at the sight of him. It made his own heart flutter. “Darling,” You greeted, reaching your hand out for him. “Are you finished?” 
Coriolanus could tell the champagne had taken its toll on you, loosening you more than he would have necessarily liked. He chose not to mention it, taking your hand politely, pulling you to him gently. “For now, I just have a break.” Corio muttered, eying the man in question, Vulcan, who had taken a step back. 
“Vully,” You grinned, your gaze leaving him. Corio bristled at the loss of your attention, even more at the nickname. How dare you? “You must tell Coriolanus the story. He’ll find it so amusing.” 
“Oh, I’m sure he has his own that would rival mine. He mentored the games with Lucy Gray.” Vulcan said politely. 
“No, you must tell the story.” You insisted with a grin. “Corio, Vulcan was in the games after yours, and he had to mentor the feral child from District Ten-” 
“-I hate to interrupt.” Coriolanus gritted, teeth bared in a tight smile he tried to pass off as genuine. “But I need you for a moment.” He looked down at you, hand wrapping around your bicep firmly. 
You frowned, lower lip jutting just slightly. “Oh,” You deflated. Coriolanus was sure he might kill the man in front of him, who still looked at you with the watchfulness of a hawk- a predator. How you were missing this, Corio wasn’t sure, but he’d protect you from it. 
“Excuse us. We’ll be right back.” You smiled softly at your friends, lifting the train of your dress, stepping with Coriolanus. 
“Where are we going?” You frowned, clutching his arm to steady yourself, walking through the doors. “Who are we meeting?” 
“You’re drunk.” Coriolanus hissed, jaw clenched in fury. 
You frowned, looking up at him carefully. “I’m not drunk.” You protested. “I only had two glasses-” 
Corio scoffed, his hand tightening around your arm. “Two? Were they spiked then?” His eyes narrowed at the thought, cutting down to you. “Did you get them yourself or did he get them for you?” 
“Did who get them? Corio, please,” You pulled back on his grasp with a whine. “You’re hurting me.” 
Corio loosened his grip, pulling you into an empty hallway. “Did he give you those drinks? What have I told you about taking anything from people? They want to hurt us, hurt me, and they know that if they go for you-” 
“Coriolanus,” You snapped, cutting off his erratic ramblings. “Please, I-I did not take a drink from anyone. I got it from my private bottle, poured it myself.” 
Corio’s chest still heaved, the burning wildfire coursing through his veins. He felt primal need, furious anger that raged through him in a way he hadn’t felt since his days with Lucy Gray. When he was so insecure, so unsure- when he attacked the man at her show, beat him on the stage for touching her. That seemed tame compared to what he wanted to do for you- what he had done for you. 
“What’s the matter, my love?” You hummed, cupping his cheek gently. “Why are you upset? Is it the Heavensbees, I told you my father said he’d speak to them-” 
“-No, it’s not-” Coriolanus huffed, pulling away, hand rubbing down his face in exasperation. He tried to keep from shouting at you, always feeling sick after. He took a breath, composing himself. 
“Were you talking about Vulcan?” You asked, looking up at him, even as he avoided your gaze. “You think Vulcan would poison me?” 
“Maybe not poison but drug you.” Coriolanus sneered at the mention of his name. “Get you unconscious and take advantage of you. The way he was all over you, you can’t say I’m far off.” 
Your mouth rounded in clarity, biting back a smile. Coriolanus was jealous. Positively green with envy- well, more red, with the flush creeping up his neck.
“Corio,” You hummed, holding his hand in yours, purposefully pressing the band of your ring into his skin. “Vulcan is just a friend. We’ve grown up together.” 
“I’m not sure he knows that.” Corio spat, squeezing your hand back. “Entertaining you like that. Flirting.” He scoffed in disgust. “Down right inappropriate doing that with a married woman.” 
“He wasn’t flirting.” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.
“Oh?” Coriolanus countered in challenge, brows raised in feigned amusement. “He was just touching you then for… what? Friendliness?” 
You blushed under his gaze, Corio towering over you, stepping towards you until you were pinned to the wallpaper, his icy gaze holding you there. 
“If I recall, my beloved, you were quite upset when a friend of mine touched my arm. Nearly clawed her eyes out, causing a scene until I had to drag you out of the library because you were so upset.” Corio’s voice was dark, rasping with that gruff tone that had you throbbing, tummy flipping with rushing heat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 
“That-That was different.” You stuttered, avoiding his gaze. 
Corio’s finger hooked under your jaw, pulling your eyes back to him. “Was it?” He tilted his head to the side, a predatory look in his eyes. You wanted to drop to your knees right there. “So the rules don’t apply to you?” 
“Corio, I-I wasn’t purposefully trying to upset you.” You huffed in exaspiration. You really weren’t, you didn’t even know that it had upset him so greatly. 
“Neither was I, but that didn’t stop you from being furious with Clemensia, did it?” Coriolanus lifted a brow, head tilting in challenge. 
Your nose scrunched at the mention of her name, lips twisted in disgust. “No,” You grumbled, looking away from his eyes. “Corio, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know it upset you. I thought it was innocent, truly. Vulcan is just a friend. You know my heart belongs to you only.” 
“It might have been innocent for you, but I don’t trust him.” Coriolanus gritted, pressing you against the wall. “I want you to be careful, my love. You know the dangers of the world. We never know who’s conspiring against us.” 
“I know, Corio.” You whispered softly, eyes rounding so sweetly up at him. “I’ll be careful. I’m sorry.” 
Corio’s thumb brushed over your cheek softly, smiling at you- your heart skipped with joy. “You’re mine. You know that?” 
“Of course,” You hummed sincerely. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone but yours.” 
Those words, the look in your eye, it drove Coriolanus right over the edge. Hands cradled around your jaw, he kissed you with fever, body pressing right up to your own. His hands roamed over the silk material of your dress, squeezing, grabbing anything he could. 
You squealed with delight when he pushed you into your shared bedroom, dragging you down the halls of the Capitol mansion until he reached your private wing. He practically pounced on you, holding you so close to his own skin. Sucking deep brusises into your jaw and neck, each mark a new claim- mine, mine, mine. 
He’d make a call later, wire funds to someone who would ensure that Vulcan was dealt with. You’d hear of the news and run to him, rambling and upset about how he was right, how you didn’t know how you missed it. He’d soothe you, remind you that’s why he was here for you- to look out for you. Your father would approve even more so, another round of donations poured right into his funds, helping build his legacy. For now, Coriolanus was content between your legs, feeling you underneath him- the way you whined, squirmed, clawed at him. How you babbled his name over and over- begged for him, and for him only. His perfect girl, for no one else.
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phoward89 · 3 months
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Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika
Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.
Story Masterlist
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Chapter 1:
When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.
When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.
“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute. 
Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”
His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you. 
Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”
“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled. 
Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.
“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.
Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”
“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard. 
Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”
His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.
“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”
“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”
What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.
You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning. 
Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”
“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word. 
Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life. 
“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”
You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?
Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.
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Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours. 
So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.
No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.
It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.
He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.
That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.
Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12. 
Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him. 
“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.
“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.
“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband. 
“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.
“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.” 
All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go. 
She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).
Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did. 
“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”
“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.
Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.
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You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you. 
You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.
But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.
It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.
Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.
Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.
Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.
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Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.
“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse  he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.
“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.
“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.
It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.
Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.
He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.
Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”
Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”
“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again. 
“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”
If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.
Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”
You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”
“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy. 
“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker. 
“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”
“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”
Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.
“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed. 
You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.
“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.
“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.
“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”
You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table. 
Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”
“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.
If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?
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lqveharrington · 3 months
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Fake-Love | C.S.
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summary: a boy was bothering you, so you and Coriolanus take it into your own hands.
pairing: university!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
includes: a very unstable, toxic relationship between the two, (arranged marriage), making out, comments toward the reader’s body, implied sex (it isn’t written), mentions of murder
a/n: soooo, as i write for the Silver Roses & Fallen Snow series, i decided to write a billion one-shot for our favorite blond to keep the era for him alive so i can finish my series 🫡. also, the uniforms are based of the gilmore girls’ one, since they are in university now and not academy.
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The arranged marriage between the Snows and the Edevanes were always doomed to happen. You were born the same year as Coriolanus, and your families were already close with each other.
It was just, you and Coriolanus despised one another.
The feeling was 100% mutual. The reasoning for such a feud was due to the never ending fight for the brightest student in the Capitol. During your years in Academy, it was a tie in every class. Of course, your hatred for one another was more tame.
It only really changed when Coriolanus came back from serving the Districts as a peacekeeper. There was something about his demeanor that was much different, plus the way he was built could have made you weak in the knees.
He joined University a little after it had started for your class, but that didn’t stop him from becoming the best. You were currently the top of your class in University, but that changed when he joined under Dr. Gaul. His jabs to your reputation were much stronger than in Academy. He would make comments about you when walking down the hall behind you, making sure you understood that he would do whatever it took to be back on top.
So, when your parents dropped the bomb on you that you were to be engaged to Coriolanus as soon as possible, your blood boiled at the male. You could not believe he stooped that low to get back at you.
And about a few weeks after the initial announcement, you and Coriolanus officially got engaged, becoming the sudden talk of the Capitol.
“How did you keep your dating life such a huge secret?” A reporter stuck their microphone up to your face as you and Coriolanus exited a car together.
“Well, we were just so love struck with one another that we didn’t want others to know.” Coriolanus smiled, answering the question for you.
His arm was looped around yours as you were guided into the University, answering all the questions being asked of you both. The moment you stepped inside the school grounds you let go of the male, dusting off your uniform’s plaid skirt.
“What time do your classes end?” He muttered toward you, adjusting his own uniform.
“I have study hall all day, I’ll be done whenever you are.” You state as you head for the library, ignoring the icy stare your fiancé was giving you.
Since Coriolanus studied under Dr. Gaul, you knew you would have to stay a lot longer in the University’s library than usual, but you did not necessarily care. You had textbook assignments due, and it was an opportunity to get everything done.
That was the goal until a first year at the University started bothering you.
“I told you, I’m busy.” You stand from your seat, furrowing your brows at the young male. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a book for my psychology lessons.”
“Aw, don’t be lame.” He inched toward you, grabbing your wrist. “Why don’t we have our own fun instead? I’m sure you’re just as beautiful underneath your skirt.”
Your eyes harden at his words and mess with your engagement ring, “You‘ll have to excuse me, I have to be somewhere.”
Swiftly, you weave through the different shelves full of books. You swore under your breath when you hear the footsteps of the male behind you, sharply turning into a more secluded space. To your surprise, you found Coriolanus pulling books from the Hunger Games previous years.
“What are you doing in here?” You question, quickly moving around to his left. “I thought Dr. Gaul needed you today?”
“She wanted me to understand the history of the previous games to help with the programming and DNA of new animals.” He mumbled, looking through a thick book from the first Hunger Games. “What are you doing?”
“This guy was hitting on me.” You shrug, meeting Coriolanus’ darkened eyes. “What?”
“What guy?” He placed the books down on a cart, grabbing your chin.
You bite the inside of your cheek, “I don’t know his name, but he’s a first year here. Why do you care so much?”
“Because, gorgeous, you’re my fiancée. Any guy who even looks your way that isn’t me is dead.” He backed you into the shelf, hand still tight on your chin. “Did he saying anything or touch you?”
“Yes.” You whisper, gaze dropping to his lips before back up to his darkened blue eyes. “He grabbed my wrist and said that ‘I’m probably just as beautiful underneath my skirt’.”
Coriolanus took his other hand and firmly placed it on your hip, eyes wandering your face. “I’ll kill him.”
You turn your head to the side as you heard footsteps nearing before Coriolanus slammed his lips onto yours, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss without a care in the world.
“Mm, Coryo—“ You part, feeling your skirt hike up. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe.” He chuckles, shutting you up with a harder kiss, slipping his tongue through your parted mouth.
Coriolanus changes his hold on you, both hands now on your waist. You shift your hips, earning a quiet groan from the male. He retaliates by tracing a hand up to your throat, slightly squeezing it which earned a moan coming from you.
“Oh, so you’re just a whore.” The male scoffed from the front of the aisle, looking at the couple.
“Kill him?” You ask between kisses, tugging at his tie. Truly, you didn’t know he would take that request to heart as the male soon was deemed missing a day later. But for now, you were caught up in the heat.
Coriolanus grins, leaving one last kiss to your swollen lips. “He talks to my soon to be wife like that, it’ll be worse than a quick kill.”
read more about coriolanus snow here !!
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etfrin · 4 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — prologue | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | coriolanus is his own warning, mentions of death, elitism, self harm (Coryo burns his wrist)
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 eight year old Coryo finds out who his soulmate is and his feelings about it
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 this is the first official post about this series that I started on a whim! I am excited to see where this goes, please give me feedback, thank you!
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It started with Sejanus. Despite being friends with the boy, eight-year-old Coriolanus Snow couldn't help but loathe the fact the boy had District blood.
Sejanus' presence in the Capitol Academy was an insult to all of Capitol. He couldn't comprehend how it was all allowed before he heard the whispers. Sturbo Plinth bought his way in with money.
Money. The one thing a Snow should be entitled to and yet has none of. Even the power his name held was dwindling. Coriolanus will do anything to make sure ‘Snow lands on top'.
With that vow, Coryo gently brushed his thumb over the tattoo on his wrist. A number, something of significance for his soulmate. Whenever he felt overwhelmed, he traced over the dark lines. He felt instantly calm.
Everything is going to be alright.
His soulmate will be a princess, a goddess, a rich Capitol girl no one can compare to. He will have a happy ending with her. Snows will rise on top, and his girl will be beside him every step of the way. The First Lady of Panem as he will be the president.
He vividly remembers the day all of his hopes were crushed. It was a couple of weeks after Sejanus started attending the academy. The boy was mocked by everyone, and Coriolanus thought it was deserved, a district boy was nothing more than an animal.
Then came the district girl, this one from District One, the district closest to the Capitol. But still not the same. The girl from the district was the prettiest he had ever seen. Although she's district. She had claimed the hearts of the teachers, and in return received many privileges. It was rumored that even the dean had a soft spot for her.
It was understandable why. She was a girl with a sweet smile, a secret sharp tongue, and hidden cruelty in her eyes he wasn't sure anyone saw except him. Her eyes always softened when she looked at him but she was always friendlier with Sejanus. Pea in a pod sticks together after all.
It was a bright day, a hot summer making him sweat in his uniform more than the walk to the academy did. That was the day he felt his heart break, and soul crushed. It was completely by accident. Sejanus and you thinking that maybe, you were soulmates. And Coriolanus thought so too, after all, you both were so close, attached to the hip.
Coriolanus felt like he was intruding into something private whenever he was near you both. With your shared giggles and secret smiles, you were as close as children could be.
When you raise your shirt sleeve revealing your soulmate's tattoo, the date is meant to be the most significant to your soulmate. Sejanus didn't recognize it but Coriolanus did, much to his nightmare.
It was the date most important to him. It was the day of his mother's and unborn sister's death. The day he lost someone he held so close to his heart. That's the number etched on your skin.
No. No! He grabbed your wrist, ignoring your yelp and the protest from Sejanus. His eyes were wide and he felt his body shake. “No. . .” He whispered, a sob in his throat.
“What's wrong?” You asked, trying to get your hand out of his hold, and due to his weak, underweight body, you did it easily enough. You rub your wrist and wait for Coryo's answer.
You don't get one because Coriolanus Snow had turn away and begun to walk away from you and Sej.
When he reached his home, his body was shaking and fat drops of tears falling from his eyes. A district girl as his? Never, never in a thousand years. His dead father would have been so disappointed. He refused to accept her as his.
He won't. Ever.
Tigris tried to ask what happened, but Coryo ignored her. He went into the kitchen, turning on the stove. The fire burned blue and orange. He didn't hesitate, ignoring the scream from Tigris as he put his wrist forward. He bit his lips to not scream himself.
By that time, Tigris had pulled him back. The skin had burned, along with it was gone the soulmate tattoo of his. He let himself sob as Tigris tried to fix him up as much as she could. She didn't scold him, couldn't, when he was crying like he had lost everything, all of his dreams shattered and the reality had settled in.
This was ten years ago, he decided he had no soulmate.
Now as eighteen, he wondered if it would remain true.
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next chapter!
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cherienymphe · 5 months
Text
A Caged Bird (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
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WARNINGS: NON-CON, blackmail, stalking, abuse of power, hints of dacryphilia, slightly spoiler-esque
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summary: Birds are best kept in a cage where one can see them...and where you know where they are at all times.
~
You thought that it was over when you won.
That’s what winning The Hunger Games meant, right? The psychological torture, the grueling conditions, and the fear that wouldn’t leave you until you finally left the arena was supposed to be over. You made it out through blood, sweat, and tears, and so your reward was to go home and reunite with your family and try your best to put the memories behind you.
Try your best to put him behind you.
So, why were you still being tormented?
When you first locked eyes with Coriolanus Snow, your first thought was how strikingly blue his were. Almost as if they weren’t real and had been specially manufactured in The Capitol for him, somehow. His hair, too, was just so much blonder than anything you’d seen in District 12, and again, you noted how so much about him seemed…artificial.
…but then he spoke…and the effect his voice had on you was very real.
“You don’t seem like you’re supposed to be here,” you’d said to him after stepping off of that train.
His response was expected, a charming chuckle leaving his pink lips, blond curls the perfect addition to his features.
“I’m not,” he slowly admitted.
The intensity behind his gaze whenever he so much as glanced at you was enough to make any girl’s heart race, and despite what you wished, you weren’t immune. He was beautiful—gorgeous as some of the other tributes and mentors liked to call him—and despite the initial intimidation, there was something about him that made you want to let your guard down.
…but he was your mentor…and a capitol citizen…and you were nothing more than his ticket to notoriety.
“Don’t you know who his dad was?” another tribute, one from one of the better districts, had said to you in a tone like you were stupid.
That was all the confirmation you needed, really.
…but he’d hopped onto the truck with you and gotten into that cage with you and brought you and your district mate food. He gave you poison to use against the other tributes. He wanted you to appeal to the audience so he’d have the funds to send you supplies. It was hard to decipher what was purely for show and what was just because he wanted you—and him by extension—to win. Perhaps, they were one in the same though, and it was impossible to have one without the other. Maybe it didn’t matter his reasons behind his desire to have his tribute win.
Maybe all that mattered was that you’d win.
…but that was when you thought winning meant you’d be free.
Coriolanus Snow was your best chance at winning, and so when the rebels rigged the arena, you didn’t hesitate to stay behind and save him. It wasn’t even a question in your mind because mentor or not, he was hurt, and you had to believe that that one fluke was not your only fighting chance. You couldn’t allow yourself to believe that in saving him, you’d allowed freedom to pass you by.
“You saved me,” he told you, a gentle brush of his handkerchief under your eye to catch your tears. “You saved me, and I am going to get you out of here.”
You had no idea then that he meant out of the games…and to him.
It was that flickering moment of doubt where you wondered if you could actually win, and you recalled what you’d said to him earlier about believing you could, how much you needed him to actually believe it. Now, you were the one doubting, and he could see it, blue gaze flicking over your face and soaking in the fear and uncertainty, because if you couldn’t win…
You’d die.
A lingering gaze and a tense atmosphere, and you felt yourself pulling back, realization hitting you as to just what you were about to let happen. It was hard to decipher who overstepped first, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get wrapped up in something that was only ever meant to be strictly professional. Coriolanus was your mentor, and you were his tribute.
That was all.
You didn’t know then the full lengths he went to just to ensure your victory. How could you? You were too busy trying to survive, trying to fight off rabid tributes and teenagers driven mad with the sole desire to just live. It was all so unfair and angering, and you were sure that with less focus, you might’ve gone insane too. You didn’t have the luxury to worry about your eerily handsome mentor and whatever ulterior motives he might’ve had to see you beat this thing.
So, when you did win, all you could feel was relief. All you could focus on was your family and their faces when you’d ultimately reunite with them. All you could even entertain were thoughts of pushing this very real nightmare to the back of your mind for as long as you possibly could. Initially, you didn’t even notice that you weren’t immediately reunited with your mentor when they crowned you as the winner and got you out of there.
At least, not until you came face to face with him in your own district.
“I thought they’d killed you. I didn’t know if my actions had come back on you too,” Coriolanus told you in a secluded corner, the loud music drowning out his words and the cover of darkness hiding your faces.
Those beautiful pale curls were gone, and any thought that so much of his beauty relied on his golden locks was gone too with one drink of him. He was still the same handsome boy that mentored you, the same one who’d garnered the nickname ‘gorgeous’ among the other tributes. Up on that stage, you’d been thrown to meet a familiar gaze, your harmonious tune pausing for half a second as he met your shocked stare with an expression of his own you couldn’t place, pink lips curved upwards ever so slightly.
Any question of how and why he was here had disappeared as you registered his words. Confusion filled you as you stared at him, a slight frown between your brows as you wracked your brain for how that could possibly make sense.
“Why would they kill me…?” you slowly asked him, and you and the shadows were all that was privy to his confession.
The water bottles, the handkerchief, and the snakes—even the poison. Coriolanus had cheated to secure your victory, broken rules that plucked him out of The Capitol and dropped him here in your very own district as a Peacekeeper. The shock you felt that your victory was far from a fair one warred with the confusion you felt as to why he’d risk everything just for you to win.
If you’d lost fair and square—as you probably should have—there was no doubt in your mind that he’d be safely tucked away in the lavishness of The Capitol instead of lingering about in some rundown excuse for a bar in lowly District 12. If he knew what awaited him should his treachery be discovered…then why chance it? Nothing about your brief tutelage with him could justify what he’d risked and ultimately lost.
You wanted to ask him why, but something in you was afraid of the answer.
That almost kiss—a kiss you hadn’t thought about in months—suddenly came to mind, and even though you didn’t ask him why, something in you knew why even if you wanted to deny it. It was there in the dim lighting and rowdy atmosphere of some rundown building that every minor interaction didn’t start to feel so minor.
Every brush of his hand against yours as he reached for you, the unsettling way he seemed to watch you in that short time that you’d simply written off as concern for his tribute, and the ruthless desire to see you out on the other side of the arena. The kiss that never was only seemed like a lapse in judgement to you then, but in this moment, you had suspicions that it was very much intentional.
You swallowed, realizing that in that brief internal introspection, Coriolanus hadn’t taken his eyes off of you once.
“Did they send you to District 12?” you finally asked him.
You didn’t know what gave you away. Perhaps your tone, maybe your face, or maybe your eyes weren’t as secretive as you’d like to believe. Either way, something about your visage and demeanor gave the blond man pause, head tilting just a tad as those baby blues glinted with something you didn’t recognize but you know you didn’t like. He studied your face before coming up with the answer he probably thought you wanted.
“Of course.”
You didn’t know if you believed him.
…and Coriolanus could tell.
You’d played enough cat and mouse games in the arena—you never thought you’d have to play them in your own home too.
Starving off the affections of some boy in your district wasn’t hard or uncharted territory. Even spurning the forbidden advances of a Peacekeeper or two wasn’t unheard of, but Coriolanus was different. He wasn’t some average Joe turned cop. He was born and raised in The Capitol with a powerful father, and even though the man had been taken before his time, your former mentor still had been brought up with the kind of influence and reach and mindset that surpassed the average Peacekeeper.
They were followers—controlled by The Capitol and tasked with maintaining order. Most were no more than dumb brutes, mindlessly following orders without question, simple enough to be bribed and swayed. If Coriolanus’ actions had shown you anything, it was that he was not a follower. He did what he wanted and played by his own rules, and it was how you found yourself hunted by a gaze you thought you’d left behind in the arena.
Since the discovery of your former mentor’s presence in your district, you never felt alone.
Every walk to trade for food felt shadowed, every footstep home was accompanied with an echo, and a sweep of your eye over the crowd as you played an instrument or sang a tune was rewarded with a familiar blue one that made your heart freeze. You were forced to ignore it no longer when a single rose was left for you on the doorstep, your ma’s gaze questioning as she held it out to you.
You didn’t know where or how he got it, but you only cared about giving it back.
“I can’t accept this,” you told him, gaze steady but fingers trembling as you held it out to him.
It was raining, and the cover over your heads sheltered you from the downpour, but it did little to drown out the sound of it. Coriolanus simply stared at the flower for what felt like too long, making no moves to take it from you, and you swallowed. His blue gaze zeroed in on the action before it lifted to your face.
“…and why not?”
“Because I think it means something different to you than it does to me.”
Your response was swift, and you watched him sigh, eventually reaching out to finger the flower like he did that day before he’d proceeded to put it behind your ear. He finally took it, and just like that day before the games, it found its way behind your ear once again. The only change this time was the shudder that traveled down your spine, and the apprehension you felt when his gaze met yours.
For the longest time, the only sound was that of the rain, a few stray drops making it’s way onto your face and clothes due to the wind. If the man before you still had the locks you’d met him with, they would’ve been rustling with the breeze, right now. Both of you were very still, or maybe it was just you—nervous and fearful of how he’d respond. He briefly looked past you, eyes glinting briefly before they hardened once again, his pink lips pressed together as he regarded you.
“…and if it does?”
He continued when you frowned.
“Mean something different to me than it does to you,” he elaborated, and you blinked.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts.
“I know…that I’m only standing here, now, because of you,” you slowly started, watching him push his shoulders back. “I won because of you, I know that, but-.”
“Exactly,” he cut you off, making your lips part. “You won because of me…and everything I sacrificed was to make sure you won.”
“…but I didn’t ask you to do that!”
You felt…cornered, somehow, because on the one hand, yes. You did owe so much to the man before you, but at the same time, what did you owe specifically? Your attention? Your affection? Whatever he deemed an appropriate compensation? When you saved his life in the arena that day, and he vowed to save yours in return, you didn’t understand the full ramifications of the deal you were agreeing to.
“I saved your life, and you saved mine, and I’m sorry for the things you felt the need to risk, but that’s where it ends.”
The cold from the rain didn’t faze you nearly as much as the heat from his gaze boring into your back.
You wanted to believe that your lack of confrontation was what led you to the predicament you found yourself in. After all, things between you two had held too many ‘what ifs’ and lingering feelings and questions. You liked to hope that telling the man in no uncertain terms that your relationship should never and would never progress beyond anything professional would fix things.
You never would’ve guessed that your bout of confidence would only prove to make things worse.
“My ma doesn’t even know any rebels, and you know that.”
You’d whispered the words so quietly, throat too choked up to speak any louder as you tearfully stared Coriolanus down, your words only intended for the two of you. Your back was pressed to the doorway as he stood before you, a foot or two of space between you as other Peacekeepers did their duty to search your house as thoroughly as possible. The reason you’d been given was suspicion of treason—to the shock of your ma—but both you and the handsome man before you knew the truth.
“One can never be too sure. It’s always those you least expect.”
His cool response only made you look away, a few tears escaping.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You won, you were free, so why did it still feel like you were in the game…except a much more dangerous one this time? You could feel his eyes on you as you watched man after man rifle through you and your ma’s things, your younger sister not home to witness this. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him take a step towards you—just one, but one was enough to make you flinch.
You still didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him though.
“Unbearable,” he quietly said. “…not able to be endured…or tolerated.”
You swallowed.
“Not to be confused with hard—requiring a great deal of endurance or effort.”
Another step towards you.
“To find something unbearable means that you quite literally cannot stomach it any longer. It forces a change to come, forces something to…give,” he whispered.
Your gaze was still focused ahead, but his words made you blink, made your heart sink, and you swore that he knew that.
“I can make things incredibly unbearable for you…and your family.”
You straightened at that, finally looking at him with a venomous gaze and a heaving chest. Coriolanus reached up to pick at your shirt, removing a piece of grass from it, and you watched him inspect it before turning his blue eyes back onto you. They lingered on your own eyes before lowering to your lips, his own twitching so subtly you might’ve missed it if you were anyone else.
“Or I can make sure you’ll be taken care of, looked after as if you were my own…” his gaze met yours again. “It’s entirely your choice.”
You two stared at one another for an infuriating amount of time before he let out a sharp whistle, telling the other men that nothing seemed to be here and to move on. His wording was not lost on you, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Coriolanus was the last to walk out, and despite the feel of his heavy gaze, you didn’t look his way the entire time.
Your ma commented on the strangeness of the whole ordeal, but nothing about it was strange to you. It was all very calculating and sinister actually, and while you grew up hearing countless talk of running away and living off the grid, you were never more tempted than in this moment…but you were not alone. Your ma was sickly, and your sister was too young.
…and if you left, you could only guess what you’d be leaving your family susceptible to.
Your future seemed inevitable no matter how much you tried to find a way out of the path set for you.
The first night you slept with Coriolanus Snow, it was storming just like that day you’d attempted to give him back his flower. You’d cried for a good three hours before, feeling helpless in the aftermath of another so-called inspection from Peacekeepers—this one much more destructive. The only light that night came from the brief flashes of lightning, and the sound of the rain drowned out the reluctant gasps to leave your lips.
Hands much softer than you ever expected trailed down your frame, curving over your hips and dipping underneath your thighs. The blond man’s lips rarely left your skin, kissing whatever part of you that came to mind, nose gently grazing you as he did and pulling shudders from your frame. It was a foreign feeling to be so heated and afraid at the same time.
Under the cover of darkness, his fingers intertwined with your own and his hips were flush with yours. The feel of him inside of you was much more jarring than you thought it would be, choked deep breaths leaving your parted lips as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. His thrusts were slow, the complete opposite of what you expected, and you didn’t know if you liked that better or worse.
Every kiss felt wrong, like you were betraying yourself, but in the same manner, they also reminded you of that first day you met. You thought about when you stepped off of that train, and that smooth voice escaped those pink lips, and your stomach flipped no matter how much you pretended it didn’t. The person you were that day wanted to throw your head back and welcome the little nips he left along your skin.
The person you were, now, wanted to crawl inside of your skin.
This man had stalked you to the highest degree, following you all the way from The Capitol just to collect on the young woman whose survival he ensured. The things he’d risked and ultimately lost, he placed the weight of on your shoulders as if you were responsible to compensate for that somehow. As if it was your duty to make his sacrifices worth it.
When he pulled you into his lap, resting on him with arms circled around your waist, it was your turn to press your face into the area where his neck and shoulder met. His fingers dancing along your skin made you shudder, and that just made the tears collect more because you didn’t want to enjoy this, but your body and your brain didn’t seem to be in alignment.
When you were forced to come around him, you saw stars, and you were positive your nails left marks on his back.
You didn’t really think that no more trouble from Peacekeepers was worth the figurative collar around your neck. The abundance of food and supplies might have been, if only to just see the smiles on your ma and sister’s faces, but even then, when you found your back pressed to Coriolanus’ chest as he drove his cock up into you, you wondered if it was actually worth it.
Your ma would say no, that you knew for sure, but you supposed it wasn’t her call to make.
After all, the alternative was psychological torment and worst-case scenarios you didn’t even want to entertain.
“Would you have had her arrested?” you quietly wondered one night.
The sheet was clutched to your chest, and you were facing the wall, still unable to look him in the eye directly afterwards. You’d never been able to, feeling used and low and indefensible. You tried not to dwell on the feel of his fingertips tracing patterns into your shoulder, his cool breath hitting your skin as he exhaled.
“I mean…would you have…framed her somehow? Found some justification for it?”
You didn’t know why you were asking, certain you wouldn’t like the answer, and as you predicted, you felt your throat tighten the longer the silence stretched. Against your will—like many things you’d been doing as of late—a few tears escaped, and even before he answered, you knew what you were going to hear.
“Yes,” he confessed, just as quietly.
You squeezed your eyes shut, subtly wiping your face.
“I sacrificed so much for you to win, and not just because your win was my win…but because I wanted to see you win,” he murmured, placing a kiss to your back. “…because I wanted you.”
You knew that, but having it confirmed so plainly was disturbing.
“…and when I eventually make my way back to The Capitol, as we both know I will, I’ll still want you.”
Your stomach sank at that, and for the first time, you turned to look at him while still trembling in the aftermath of what had quickly become a nightly occurrence. His gaze was still focused on where your back had been, and when his eyes flitted up to connect with yours, you didn’t have the words to convey how you felt about what he was insinuating.
“In The Capitol, you’ll have access to things you could never even imagine…and you could send those same things back to your family,” he told you, reaching up to touch your face.
When you moved to sit up, he stopped you, a firm grip on your arm. Coryo—as he liked for you to call him—fixed you with a look that you knew all too well. It was the look he gave you when you tried to come up with any excuse as to why you couldn’t meet with him. It was the look you received when you briefly forgot the power dynamics here, turning away from him and attempting to push him away.
It was a look that told you not to fight the inevitable.
“I want you there with me.”
His tone left no room for argument, and there was so much conviction in his voice that the thought of arguing seemed legitimately draining. You simply stared at him, eyes glassy, and he stared back, waiting for verbal confirmation of what you both knew was going to happen, anyway. You had no choice in the matter, you never did, and for a brief horrifying moment, you almost wished you were a lone orphan who didn’t have to look out for anybody but yourself.
That thought did make tears spill over.
It was a horrible thing to think, but your loved ones were being used against you, and you knew that your ma—and your sister if she were old enough to comprehend these things—would never want this for you. Coryo sat up with you, a hand resting on your cheek as he gazed at you, a thumb brushing the tears away. It wasn’t meant to be comforting.
Nothing he did was ever meant to be comforting.
“I want you there with me,” he repeated.
You wondered what someone like you would possibly do in The Capitol.
“I don’t belong there,” you whispered, a poor attempt to get him to change his mind.
His response was swift and clipped.
“You belong with me.”
When he pressed his lips to yours, it was expected that you would kiss him back. His thumb brushed along your skin as you did, a low hum sounding in the back of his throat that quickly escalated into a groan. His free arm snaked around you, and your last attempt at resisting proved futile, so you let him lay you down.
Sex with Coriolanus was a maddening experience.
You didn’t want it, and your brain didn’t want it, but it was as if your body was its own separate entity running on hormones and animal instinct.
When he rested his full weight on top of you, you shuddered for a multitude of reasons—one of which you didn’t want to acknowledge. When he slid his hand between your breasts and down to your stomach, your back arched, chest pressing up and into his. When he pushed into you all torturously slow as he always did, you involuntarily held your breath, shaking at the feel of his hips connecting with yours, the length of him fully sheathed in your warmth.
You were terrified of him, so that was why you opened up for him like those budding roses he used to carry around, but in doing so, you made yourself vulnerable beneath him. You made yourself more susceptible to his kisses and his touch and that maddening voice that knew just how to get its way. He wasn’t a very talkative man when he was inside of you, much more content with letting his actions speak for themselves, but tonight was different.
“Look at me,” he whispered, curving his hips into yours. “Look right at me.”
You did, and while you didn’t know the specifics of the psychology behind this, you knew that looking into the eyes of your tormentor while in the act couldn’t be good.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he breathlessly told you, nose brushing against yours with every thrust.
You could hear that it was starting to rain again, and you pressed your hands into the small of his back, trying to ground yourself in some way—trying to have control over something, anything. Tears kissed your eyes, and you swore—you swore—that something in those blues of his twinkled. It sparked something in his gaze, and in his psyche, his thrusts becoming more powerful and making you gasp, nails pressing into his skin.
He only looked especially satisfied when the tears spilled over.
When he came inside of you, and you around him, you swore you saw stars.
You even thought you saw snow.
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