#corionlanus snow

[siriusblackslut]

The one where Coryo shows his true colours after a disagreement.

As Coryo’s best friend, you should have anticipated this.

Pairing: Coriolanus/Reader

Word: 5909

Warnings: mildly dubious consent, soft dark, obsessive behaviour, yandere

Sometimes, Coryo was glad you were so stupidly naïve.

He hated it most times, you navigating the big bad world so clueless as to how it revolved around a pretty darling like you, when you would offer shy smiles to hungry eyes raking the length of your body, when you would entertain unpalatable opinions clearly devised for your sole attention, or when you would introduce him as your dearest friend to puzzling spectators moments after he greeted you with a peck at the corners of your mouth. 

Today though, he was so fucking grateful, for between the happy sips of posca you had announced just how thrilled you were with your university acceptance letter, as though you were expecting him to cheerily send you off to the other side of the city.

It was sour news, but Coryo was glad he was made aware of them sooner than later. 

“Away?” he demanded sharply.

The room settled into a tense silence broken only by his curt paces across the length of the room, and your eyes followed him expectantly.

When you didn’t reply, you weren’t sure what with from the tone of his voice, Coryo was quick to make his displeasure be known. “I wish you had told me earlier so I could discourage you.”

“But it’ll be so good for me,” you tried earnestly once more and Coryo thought you were positively deluded if you had ever thought there was a chance he was going to let you go.

He reached you in two strides, his thumb caressing your chin in a way that was gentle yet firm. “Don’t leave.”

It was clear he wasn’t asking, which made him even more disappointed when he saw your expectant expression give way to a frown because you were making this harder on purpose. Coryo thought it was a shackle sometimes, to want to breathe, live and own you.

“You’re upset, I unders--”

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe how angry I am.”

And oh, bless you, you though he was worried about you, and you continue your reassurances that were endearing at first, but Coryo was finding them increasingly irritating.

You squeezed his forearm still stroking your chin, giving him a small smile, “I can handle myself.” The clench of his jaw went unnoticed, “And besides, Sejanus will be there too.”

Coryo hated sharing you, even in speech, and that revolting name rolling of your tongue so effortlessly like it belonged there replacing his own, it made him livid, and he thought it was the last straw.

“So, he can offer you a fortune?” He let his voice fill with scorn and allowed his face to twist into a cruel sneer. The thumb at your chin gentle just moments earlier now dug into your skin, “some more unsavoury opinions?”

“I thought he was your friend.”

Coryo let the silence sit and it was telling, so telling, in fact, that you were now questioning your friendship with him, rightfully so, and it was in this moment of rebellious defiance that you snapped at him and you had never snapped at him before, “Then I’ll be fine on my own then, without him or you.”

Such fierce words spoken in a wobbly tone, had Coryo thinking you had forgotten your place. He thought, in some way, he was to blame because he had been far too lenient on you and it was clear now that you had not respected the privilege of freedom that he had allowed. He would have to remedy that, and he wasn’t particularly sorry either, only sorry that you would think him unreasonable but really, he just wanted you to mold into the prettiest version of yourself and flourish with him.

When he took a step forward, his solid frame looming uncomfortably over you, Coryo had already decided that you weren’t going to leave because he simply could not fathom a world where you were not a mere arm’s reach away, and he was resolute that he would not either. He was deciding now, only how he would break it to you, and even through your thick naivety you sensed something shift.

“You’re staying,” he said.

It was an unsteady step back. “No.”

“I won’t say it again.”

It tired him, you had barely opened your mouth and he just knew it was another misplaced objection and so he silenced you instead, digging his fingers at your jaw and pulling you up to devour those pesky words. It was a hard kiss, one of nose bumps and teeth clashes that was entirely different from the usual shy easing brushes of lips, but Coryo thought he had to start somewhere more obvious now.

A muffled cry between his swirling tongue and you had hardly begun a protest, but he was there too, determined to swallow it up by planting more suffocating kisses until you were gasping for his breath.

“Fine without me huh?” Coryo repeated your words between each kiss across your mouth, lips, tongue, cheeks, chin and everywhere he could get his lips on.

To him, it was so intrinsically natural the way you slotted up against him, but for you and he was mocking your words now, it was a confusing turn of events. Mouth entangled with his depriving you of air, the hot skims of his fingers across your waist leaving a blazing trail in their wake and that dull ache blooming in your belly, it all made you disoriented and you pushed away at his head in retaliation for some rational distance, but he would never give you any now. Coryo had just tasted you and now you were leaving him high and dry and aching for more? He would even settle for that glimmer of sweat at your neck and he latched on, sucking pretty kisses across your nape until he could feel your pounding pulse and it made him drunk, the sheer power he had over you because you wanted him too, you just didn’t know yet.

“You just need a reminder of how much you need me,” he was planting sloppy kisses up your throat and his hands left their post at your waist, roaming, roaming and roaming until hungry fingers fiddle at the hem of your skirt pushing up and up until it bunched at your waist and the sinking feeling at your belly settled uncomfortably when you finally understood what he meant.

“I thought we were friends,” you mumbled weakly and Coryo was almost offended that you hadn’t spared a thought to the natural progression of your relationship, as if that truncated milestone was all that was destined of your relationship. Still, it was an improvement from the empty words of assurance, and he liked it much better when you had submitted, even if it was reluctantly.

“And you said you love me, and yet you’re leaving me,” he was murmuring into your skin still continuing his onslaught of rough kisses across your neck, “so it seems we were both not entirely truthful with each other.

Itching hands wandered up your thigh and Coryo was delighted to find your panties already wet from just curious fingers and persistent lips. Though you hadn’t grasped it yet, your body sure had and Coryo would make your mind follow once he was finished with you.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” he whispered encouragingly and his breath seared your skin. “That you love me.”

“I do!”

Fingertips caught the hood of your clit through your sopping panties, and he began to trace light circles at the drenched fabric, just enough for you to feel the beginnings of what Coryo could offer.

“Like lovers do.”

It made you shiver, and you exhaled into his chest. There were many realisations to be had in this pleasure haze. “Coryo--”

“That you won’t leave,” and he pressed another kiss into your neck, fingers drawing tight patterns at your clad clit until you ached for him like he did for you.

“That you’ll stay.”

“No-- oh--” A moan tumbled through your lips before you could stop it and you pressed your face deeper into his chest to muffle them out of embarrassment even though Coryo thought it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard.

All shy from a slipped moan and he wondered whether you even notice the way you were grinding against his thighs soaking his trousers, clearly yearning for something more than the light skim of his thumb barely there at your panty-clad clit. It amused him greatly, your outward unwillingness even though you belonged to him, and when those silly unintelligible murmurs of protests gave way to breathy gasps, but Coryo still thought you had yet to learn your place in his life, he moved away, palm bumping against your thigh under your skirt.

The betrayal, disappointment and relief on your face, it made Coryo triumphant because in some selfish way, he wanted you to understand exactly what you had subjected him through all these years.

“Go on,” he said, “just tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll make you feel real good.”

And despite your body shaking with unresolved tension, you still managed to shuffle back, head shaking defiantly.

Coryo would be impressed by your composure if he was not furious.

“No?” and he was onto you once again, consuming your lips until he was so sure you were inside him because then you would have to stay. Nose skimming your cheek and foreheads pressed flushed together, and all you could taste was his tongue swirling inside yours. It was working, him chipping away at your will, but still, you gave him a rational, albeit breathless answer.

“No,” you murmured because this was your dearest friend who had you all frazzled and flushed, and you swatted away at his wandering hands trailing between your thighs once again, but it was to no avail because Coryo was determined now, he would not have you slipping through his fingers because he had worked too hard at you and at this, he would have you impaled on them instead.

Forceful fingers yanked at your panties, and then it was all flesh against flesh with Coryo rubbing at your clit before he worked a knuckle into you.

“Gonna show you then,” he snarled. There was a lot more friction now, the sloppy sounds as he fucked his fingers into you reverberating around the room was proof of it, and the dizzying ache that returned twice as hard made your knees weak and you stumbled, plunging yourself deeper on his digits. 

“Tell me you need me.” 

It was a choked sob that made it out your lips, but it was still thick and full of arousal. “I can’t.”

“Of course, you can darling,” he cooed, and it was confusingly kind against the plunge of his fingers into your cunt. You only whined in response and whilst Coryo thought it sounded delightful, it wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear.

“I know you want to, just wanna hear it from your pretty lips.”

In case you needed another reason for a confession, he curled his fingers up paired with another plunge, fleshy pad brushing up delicately somewhere special and deep inside you. It felt so terribly good, but your waterline shimmered instead because the blossoming heat in your stomach, it made you feel so guilty because it meant you were willing, didn’t it? Now, that was all a bit too much to bear. “It’s not fair.”

“Fair?” Coryo repeated and it was unbelievably cold, making you shiver even in this hot flush.

You took another shaky step back, but he was already there with his chest pressed flushed against yours, fingers still pumping inside you while his thumb still circled your clit and it made your head empty and legs unsteady, and you pushed him but it only provoked him further because you were denying him his rightful property.

“You think it’s fair to leave me?” he growled and slipped another finger in spitefully, and the stretch was painfully delicious, “We’d promise we’d take care of each other, remember?” 

He didn’t let you reply, he was almost certain it would just be another string of silly protests judging by your shiny eyes. Instead he captured your lips in another hot and heavy kiss that was full of angry scrapes until on his tongue lingered the sweet metallic taste of you and Coryo was drunk on you, you in his lips, in his palms and now in his throat trickling like fire into his belly.

It was intoxicating for him, but painful for you and had you reeling back to tuck your head at his chest once again and Coryo’s only solace was that you were now rocking your hips, plunging yourself down to meet every thrust of his fingers.

“So sure you don’t need me?” he gave you another chance and he prayed you take it because it was hurting him now, when he knew he could shower you in such other-worldly pleasure.

You only burrowed your head deeper into his chest, still griding on his fingers. Unfortunate, but unsurprising and so he waited, and he didn’t have to wait for long, not when his thumb was busy lavishing your clit and you were doing half the work fucking yourself on his digits, until your breath hitched against his chest and you were shuddering in his arms with your cunt gushing drenching his sleeves before he pulled his hand away once more and the blooming pleasure waned away into nothing, leaving a dull ache in its wake.

Knees buckling and you stumbled back, glaring at him with fat tears rolling down your cheeks. It made Coryo’s heart ache, but he thought this lesson more important than your temporary upset at him, if only you had confessed.

“I don’t need you,” you snapped at him, and the self-assuredness in your voice had him thinking you were so clearly deluded. As if your cheeks weren’t running with tears from what he had withheld from you, as if you hadn’t just been rolling your hips against his outstretched fingers only moments ago. 

“Sure, seemed like you did when you were fucking my fingers.”

“I can take care of myself!”

He really did respect your persistence if it was not just so disobediently misplaced.

You were glowering at him now, despite the flush of your cheeks and Coryo wondered just how naïve you could be. Were you really that completely clueless as to the way your body craved him? How could you retreat when he could feel you twitching to be in his arms?

“I don’t want to be mean, you know,” he was advancing again, leaning in and it made you feel a bit dizzy. “But I will if you keep being this uncooperative.”

His intoxicating scent, the caress of his thumb at your cheek, your sticky thighs and that angry unreleased ache buzzing between your legs, it was all too much and you moved away, just to think, but Coryo was right there too, he would follow you to the end of the earth until you were in his arms.

A mere whisper away but Coryo still thought there was a vast expanse between the two of you because you just weren’t getting it, it was almost insulting now. He closed the space with another devour of your lips until you were gasping for breath and pushing him away yet again, but he was there and everywhere, lips all aggressive and all-consuming locking into your unwilling ones until he was smothering you, suffocating you in all his heavenly adoration, until it seemed like your only respite was to move your lips against his.

Even if they were sluggish and clumsy lips smacking against his sloppily unable to keep up with his heated ones, your receptiveness drew a groan of appreciation from him and it was that, the low rumble of his throat that snapped you back to reality, because this was your sweet Coryo Coryo coryocoryo, your dearest friend, despite that shameful heat rising between your legs.

It caught him by surprise this time when you pried his head away, stung even more after your momentary clarity, especially when he had really thought you had given in. Now you were just standing there with your lips swollen hanging agape and coated with his spit, peering up at him all doe-eyed through your lashes glimmering with tears, just standing there looking pretty like that was all you could do for him, and it made Coryo so furious because you could be more.

You caught a glimpse of him half possessed, but it was only for a moment before he had pounced back on you and the assault on your lips now borders on painful with his teeth scraping against your already sensitive lips.

“Gonna remind you myself then,” Coryo hissed between each rough kiss. It was suffocating, insistent lips and his towering frame pushed up against you threatening to blend into one, and you were still moving back and backandback until your calves were digging into the mattress because your lips felt so raw against his now, but he was still there, and there was no room to retreat anymore and so you arched your back away instead, anything away from his prodding tongue inside your mouth because it was painful, dizzying, electrifying but youcouldn’tseemtobreathe and you were leaning back leaningleaning until you were falling--

You toppled onto his bed, and it was a welcomed respite, wracked gasps slipping from your throat in a desperate attempt catch your breath, but the moment was brief, and the dire reality sank in your belly where Coryo had bunched the excess fabric of your skirt. 

He had taken his position on his knees; it was humiliating but not in front of you because he wanted you worshipped. Then, you would know just how much he revered you, adored you, loved you, to the point of complete devotion.

Cold fingers pried at your warm thighs and Coryo took advantage of your momentary daze to hook your left leg over his shoulder, his right palm pressing your other leg to ease your thighs apart. The ebbing pleasure reawakened once more from his hot breath at your cunt and the light trace of his digits up your slit. It was embarrassing, vulnerable and had you letting out another protest in retaliation for the premature sparks between your legs, but Coryo thought your warm slick coating his fingers said otherwise. 

He could tell that you were panicking now, thighs squirming against his shoulders as you began to grasp just exactly what he was doing. Arching your back in an attempt to buck him off but it smeared your pussy against his face instead, your clit bumping at his nose and your hips stuttered, a strangled moan escaping your pursed lips.

“You can like it, you know,” Coryo murmured and he was quick to indulge himself, running his tongue up your slit and he was careful to collect your precious essence, not a drop wasted, to swirl at your sensitive pearl of nerves until your quivering thighs were squeezing his head and you were gushing once more. 

And despite the many objections tumbling from your mouth, your body was so compliant, rewarding his efforts doubly and Coryo lapped away gratefully until you were dribbling down his chin and even then he brought his fingers to scoop them up before licking clean at them too because you were just so tasty and he was starved of you.

If gluttony was a sin, then why is he in heaven?

You were still writhing on the bed, still attempting to push him away at his head and it made Coryo even more determined if anything because he had never not gotten what he wanted, deserved and was entitled to. Slipping his left palm under your arse, he pried your flesh apart before pressing his face into your pussy, lips latching onto your clit, and it stayed there suckling because he would make an example of it now, that he was never going to let you go on his own accord regardless of how you begged him to. Hardly now, it seemed, when he flicked his tongue at your puffy pearl of nerves drawing another muffled cry, but you were no longer jerking back now.

It was taking less and less time for Coryo to drag you back over to the edge until you were teetering precariously once again, and he was completely delighted to find you already pulsing around him when he sank his fingers into you.

“You’re close again,” he murmured into your pussy and it was mocking because not a moment after he unlatched his lips from your swollen clit and you were protesting?, leaning back to admire his handiwork of your pretty pink pussy all swollen and glistening with slick a mix of his saliva and your arousal. He collected it up with a broad swipe of his tongue, finishing with a flick at your clit, all whilst still knuckles deep pumping into you, filling the room with obscene squelches.

“Can feel you clench around my fingers.”

“Oh--"

When Coryo felt your scrambling fingers again, it was to pull him in this time, as if he wasn’t already so intimately acquainted with your sweet cunt. It filled him with pride, that he could make you feel this good but just because he adored you didn’t mean he wasn’t going to discipline you, and if it meant taking your release away so you would understand just how intricately intertwined the both of you were, he would do it.

It began to ebb away as quickly as it had come, and it is in this moment of desperation that you reached for him. Blonde locks tangled within your fingers, but Coryo was still restrained, only soft kitten brushes against your bundle of nerves bringing you to another world of pain because it just wasn’t enough, only enough to keep you flustered and wanting but not enough for you to tumble over into the territory of pure euphoria. Even his right palm pressed against your tummy was firm, he couldn’t let you ride his face just yet, no glimmer of a chance at your own release that wasn’t at Coryo’s calculating hand.

All pretence abandoned and it wounds your pride.

“Please.” It was a whisper, but a polite start.

“Come on, princess.”

“Coryo,” There was no protest in his name anymore, only a pleading sigh of his name catching in your throat like a desperate hoarse prayer to something divine, and it made him hard.

“That’s it.”

“Please--” you tried once more but your voice breaks instead into a moan of frustration.

Your only consolation was that you weren’t the only one who was in suffering. Even in the midst of pressing gentle kisses at your cunt keeping you at the torturous edge where there was only one clear resolve, Coryo was also begging you  “Let me make you cum,” and the neediness in his voice was embarrassing because only you could resort him to this humiliation. “Just want to hear you say it.”

Another curl of his fingers, swirl of his tongue.

“Admit it.”

You were sobbing now, how could you let it go again? When it was just within reach, you could feel it brushing at your fingertips and at your thighs between Coryo’s curls, and the thought of it reducing to a disappointing barely-there wane, it brought salty tears to your eyes.

Your thighs tightened at Coryo’s shoulders in a poor attempt to keep him there, but you could feel him beginning to shift away and with it, your high slipping away too.

It was a dangerous game, but you were at the edge of your resolve, and you’d do whatever to convince him now, tell him that you would stay, that you would be whatever he wanted you to be, if that meant you could topple over the edge.

You could reason with him later, you would.

Reason what?

“Need you Coryo,” you gasped, “I need you, will do whatever you want.”

It was a little dazed and Coryo thought that you could work on the delivery, but he was happy with that nonetheless, rewarding you with a drive of his fingers even deeper catching every sensitive spot deep within you whilst his tongue continued its attention on your clit.

Whatever he wanted and he told you just exactly what between greedy mouthfuls of your pussy, “You won’t leave.”

It was pure desperation that spoke. “I won’t!”

Coryo lets you fall apart for him because of him. He released his palm at your belly button, letting you ride your orgasm out on his face with your thighs wrapped tight around his shoulders, his little angel so devilishly hysterical, until his face was completely smeared full of your delicious slick and he thought that he could drown in it happy.  

And when you came down from your high, it was still not enough because he wanted more of you and all of you and Coryo had a point to make that you needed him, you said it yourself. His efforts only doubled, indulging in the tastiest treat he had ever had, suckling at your oversensitive clit and needed his fingers drove deeper into your pussy until you were humming with unbridled pleasure that even the gentlest strum of his tongue had you thrashing around his shoulders, had your fingers tugging at his hair painfully as you soared and fell once again in the matter of seconds, another ragged pant dragged from your throat.

And when Coryo thought that you, your body and mind, had finally understood that you belonged to him wholly, he unlatched his lips from your swollen clit, pressing light kisses at your thighs before he pried himself of his position lodged between your trembling thighs.

When you came down from your peak, white ebbing back to the dimly lit room, you could make out his pale cheeks flushed pink and his hair messy an irrefutable evidence of your willingness. Coryo gave you a crooked grin, before he slumped back on the bed next to you, legs tangled with yours.

“I knew you would come to your senses.”

The reality of what you had agreed to settled disagreeably in the pit of your stomach once all that tension had disappeared.

His fingers, sticky from your cum, cradled your flustered cheek. It was as though he was reminding you, encapsulating you so you would never leave. He pressed another giddy kiss at your lips, and you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Tell me again,” Coryo panted against your lips; it was dizzying to be victorious.

But when he felt your cheeks wet against his, he wasn’t entirely convinced that you understood the seriousness of the events that had just transpired, and he simply refused to entertain your disobedience any longer.

“For fucks sake, just be good.” Now Coryo adored you, but he needed absolutes and not empty promises made in a frenzy of pleasure. Even though you had understood, you had yet to completely surrender to your happy fate by his side. He thought, maybe you just needed one final push.

His lips were locked onto yours once again, hot and hungry and before you could let out another string of those ungrateful whines and unwarranted objections which would only be ten-fold when the rattle of his zipper echoed through the room.

“You’re selfish, but I can put up with that,” he chastised while plying your lips open with his rough ones.

 “Wait--” your voice welling with alarm, but Coryo swallowed that one too, planting another kiss at your lips.

“Cus you’re mine.”

You were. His perfect stubborn girl who was now kicking feebly at his legs to no avail, limbs and lives too deeply intertwined.

Coryo could feel his composure slipping. He had been so sweet on you, but that was before his cock was pressing against your soft thighs. It was all instinct now because you were the sweetest temptation he had ever had to resist, but now he gets to indulge in you now and he sure was making a scene of it, groaning into your mouth while he guides his cock under your skirt, pressing it into you until his cockhead was gliding across your silky folds.

There was a bit of give before he breached into you, and see, he was right, he always was. You were enjoying yourself too whilst Coryo defiled you so that you could only belong to him, with your breathless whimpers tumbling drunkenly into his mouth, and he was sure not to kiss those away.

“You said you’ll do whatever I wanted.”

You did. Maybe in a haze of confusing arousal, but those were your words.

“And I want you to stay. With me.” Coryo murmured between each moment apart from your swollen lips, between each snap of his powerful hips driving into you. “I command it.”

He was sure to make every single rut into you harsh, until his hipbones were mashing against yours painfully because just look at how you could take every one of them, look at the way each sore bruise against your bony flesh went straight into your core and look at the way your wet walls clung onto every single bulging vein his cock had to offer you. Could there be any other reason why if you weren’t made for him and him for you?

And yet you were still refusing your happy fate.

A broken sob from your throat and Coryo could feel you tighten on his cock, clenching impossibly tight and he supposed that if he loved you, that meant every stubborn part, and even that was getting easier to love with how you were pulsing around him with every cry, and he thought he could grow to enjoy the chase.

And even that seemed to be waning now because you were conceding with every forceful fuck into you until you were reciprocating, your fingers tracing his chest while lips clung onto his, nature taking its course.

When Coryo pulled apart from your lips to lean back, it was to make you watch the way your lithe body beaded with sweat, not just accepting but welcoming his numbing assault from the way your pussy stretched, shaped and memorised him, so that even when he wasn’t there, he still was, there and everywhere. The outline under your navel bulging with every thrust was proof of it, and marked just how deep he was inside of you, conquering depths previously untouched.

“Look at it,” he snarled, bringing his thumb to trace at the bulge and it drew sparks across your skin. “Is there anywhere more fitting?”

You were just a mixture of sobs and moans when you peered up to blink at him dumbly, and Coryo didn’t think you could look any prettier but here you were, more beautiful and debauched than ever impaled on his cock. 

“Unless you want me to stop?” 

He was offering now, only because he knew you could never agree.

He snickered, “No, I didn’t think so, wouldn’t have lasted a single day without me.”

Gasping all over the place and it made Coryo swell with pride because he had done it, stamped out any ounce of bitterness and resentment you had towards him for just doing what was best for you, that was writhing and brimming full of unadulterated want desperate for release.  

“I won’t be there to make you feel good like this,” and he was gloating now adding to that messy whirlpool of emotions that were shame, awe and desperation pulling fat tears down your cheeks, but Coryo knew you better and thought that awful reality too painful for you to wrap your little head around.

“Gotta take care of you in every way.”

“Please!” and if had known that all it required for you to stay was to fuck you silly, he would have done it a lot sooner.  

“You’re not going to leave me, not ever, you do understand why that is don’t you?

Because he loved you, you understood that much now, but at what cost?

Coryo demanded an answer, his hips snapping up to bruising into you deliciously, but his pace stuttered.

Surely, he won’t take this away from you. You were ruined now, because he had made you feel better than your clumsy fingers could ever make yourself feel, reached places inside you that you hadn’t known ever existed, led you to heights so unimaginably heavenly with easy strokes. Coryo knew you completely, better than you knew yourself.  

So,what matter the cost when he loved you? When could make you feel this good, when he wanted to, he had made that abundantly clear. You thought that you could stay, if it meant you could feel like you this indefinitely.

“Tell me so I know.”

You gave him something better than an answer, you gave him a confession.

“I love you.”

Coryo thought it sounded perfect on your lips.

“You won’t leave me then.” It was unlike him, so uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“I won’t.”

“Promise it.”

“I promise.”

Coryo believed you. It was hard not to when the very proclamation had you rolling your head back on his pillows, your arms outstretched pulling him into a weak embrace, legs curling around his pistoning thighs drawing him unbelievably close until it was unclear where your body ended and his started and until you were one with him. He could feel you fluttering once again and it was even tighter this time around his fat cock instead of his fingers, until you came completely undone in a string of euphoric gasps.

For him though, it was your complete surrender to him, finding immense pleasure and unconditional solace in him and the years of frustrated anticipation melted away and Coryo groaned too joining your dazed gasps as he spilled himself deep inside you.

He thought, in this hazy reality, that just to be sure, he might just have to knock you up too, then you would really have to stay with him.

“You’ll write back,” he said in laboured breaths between each skim of his lips across your forehead when he finally slumped down against you. His tone was stern and gentle, there was no need to be mean anymore when you had been so compliant and obedient for him. “Write and tell them you’ve changed your mind.”

When you did not respond only turning away shyly, he peered down at you intently to see your waterline glimmering once more and he brushed the wetness away because he knew for certainty that they were only happy ones now. His prized possession brimming so full of bliss her eyes were brimming too.

Coryo didn’t mind this view of his pink and purple masterpiece dotted across your throat, marks of his property, but for now, he wanted your unyielding attention. He reached to tuck at your hair before tilting your jaw until you were facing him once again with your noses bumping lightly.

“You’ve got bigger and better things ahead of you,” Coryo murmured and it was his turn to be reassuring this time. Judging by the way his cock seemed to come to life again, tapping at your inner thigh, you agreed.

#coriolanus x reader #corionlanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #tbosas #tbosas smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #young coriolanus snow #tom blyth #the hunger games #thg #fanfic #coriolanus snow fanfiction

[andy-15-07]

Us and our children

masterlist ! pairing: Tom Blyth reader

SUMMARY : a beautiful morning with the children

GENRE: fluff, loveeee , dad!Tom

Over the years, mornings change with us as well. Tom and I have been married for 5 years and we have two children together, more precisely twins, Liam and Lexi Blyth, who are 4 years old and are almost a copy of their father, with his gray-blue eyes, his smile but the same hair color as mine and Tom's.

"Good morning my love ." I hear Tom and feel him pull me closer to him, putting my head on his chest. As usual he wakes up first.

"Good morning honey , what time is it?" I ask him and move even closer to him, the warmth of his body makes me decide to stay in his arms as long as I can.

"It's 8 o'clock. Are you surprised that you didn't wake up with our joys with us in bed?" he tells me and I can feel him playing with a strand of hair.

"I'm a little surprised, but I have a feeling that in 5 minutes you'll see them coming to the door." I say and kiss him on the jaw.

"You are right."

We are sitting quietly, in each other's arms, suddenly we hear footsteps in the hallway and a not-so-whispered conversation, and then we realize that our daughter and son have woken up.

I lift my head from Tom's chest and look at him and see him already looking at me smiling, I see him lean down and capture my lips in a kiss, after I break the kiss we turn our gaze towards the door.

The door slowly opens and we see how Liam looks to see if me or their father are awake and is greeted with two big smiles from us.

"Lexi I told you they woke up, come on." Liam says and extends his hand towards his sister, we see them holding hands and coming towards us.

Tom taught our son how to behave with a girl and anyway Lexi and Liam are not only brother and sister but also best friends, which makes me and Tom the proudest parents.

"Good morning mommy ! Good morning daddy!" our beautiful children tell us.

"Good morning to you too, my treasures." Tom says and makes room for Lexi and Liam to get between us.

Lexi has been daddy's girl since she was born, just like Liam is mommy's boy.

"Daddy, can we watch TV with you? Please!" Lexi says and makes that face that Tom can never resist.

"We can watch, anyway it's Saturday and how about we stay in bed today, watch TV and do whatever else you want. Do you agree?" I tell my two miracles.

I see how they look at each other and then they both nod, so that Lexi's hair comes loose from her braided tail, when I look at Tom I see that he is happy, he has the smile on his lips that I fell in love with.

I see my dear husband turn on the TV and put on the children's favorite show, while I watch our children get under the covers and make themselves comfortable in bed.

Not even 30 minutes pass and I feel Tom squeezes my hand a little, when I look at him, he signals me to look at Lexi and Liam who have fallen asleep, this makes me smile.

"Looks like they weren't ready to wake up." Tom says in a whisper and I notice him shaking the children's eyes.

"Here I agree with you." I answer.

This always happens in our house and especially since our dear children have grown up, they bring us only joy and happiness in my life and Tom's. We are the proudest parents and we love our treasures, we are the luckiest to have them in our lives.

#tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth smut #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth icons #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth imagines #tom blyth x you #corionlanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagines #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #young coriolanus snow #coryo #coriolanus snow imagine #president snow #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader

[caleohateclub]

sejanus: teehee, y'know, man, i know another way you could get my family money coryo, *blink blink blink* *attemps to twirl hair but realises it's shaved*

coriolanus (thinking of murder): huh, yeah, i guess there is!

#snowjanus or whatever #corionlanus snow #sejanus plinth #hate his ass so much that not even tom blythe this appealing to me rn #tbosas

[topperscumslut]

put the main tbosbas trio in the incorrect quotes generator and wdym these aren’t just quotes from the book

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #tbosas #tbosbas spoilers #tbosas spoilers #the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #corionlanus snow #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth #the hunger games #thg #incorrect quotes #tbosbas incorrect quotes

[st0nesnglitter]

Dark!Coriolanus in an arranged marriage. 18+

Due to his mishap in love earlier he decides that his only reason to marry is for power. You’re the kin to a very highly regarded general, and that helps Coriolanus win over more military power. Plus it’s not a negative thing that you’d look good on his arm. So he approaches your dad and they come to an agreement, and suddenly you’re married.

At first the biggest change is just that you’ve moved from one mansion to another. You barely see Coriolanus, he’s off trying to win over every ounce of power, every morsel respect he can. He’s late home for dinner and then he disappears into his study until the dark hours of the night. Sometimes he sleeps in there.

But you still share a bed, like a married couple should. It’s big and white duvets flow like the ocean, making it hard to even notice the person on the other side of it.

That is until one night, when you’d drifted more to the center, Coriolanus glances at you. In your wedding lingerie. White and lacy, with the only hint of modesty lingerie could have. Your face is soft in relaxation, taking steady breaths as your hips shift, turning you unto your stomach. And there it is. His initials, in red thread over the back of your panties.

Something snaps in him.

You’ve taken his name, you’re wearing his name, you’re his. The red of the thread paints his vision when it comes to you. And if he owns you, why shouldn’t he use you?

At first it’s purely out of convenience. Instead of his shameful minutes in the shower he can turn to you. What else is a wife for?

And it’s always from behind with your head burrowed in pillows. It would almost be anonymous, if it weren’t for the matching wedding bands. Despite them he could not care less about your pleasure, about you. In these moments you’re just a warm fleshlight to him.

But one night it changes. Coriolanus is slamming into you, chasing his high between your perfect walls, when he hears you whine. It’s not clear, most likely a cock-induced babble, but he hears it. You’re so big. And his hips stutter as a new feeling blooms in his chest. A new kind of power.

He starts flipping you over to hear your pretty mewls better. And just as your inner walls are stroking his cock, your sinful mouth is stroking his ego. How he’s so big, how he’s so deep, how he’s so good. And he develops a new fascination in watching your eyelids flutter, watching how your thoughts flee your head as his cock bullies it way into your mind.

He discovers his new weapon. With keeping you on his cock every night, and sometimes early mornings, his head is sharper. Not dulled down by humanity’s stupid physical needs.

He also discovers that he can manipulate people in ways beyond his words. Discovers that his fingers on your clit make you gush on his cock, clenching around him like a vice. Discovers that if he just angles his cock slightly he can make you squirm and gasp. Realizes how much he likes to see his pretty wife completely ruined by him.

And just as there’s a red hot need in him to have you completely, you’re just as desperately his.

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow blurb #coryo snow smut #corionlanus snow x reader #coryo snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x reader #tbosas smut

[divineidolatry]

CONSTANTLY IN THE DARKNESS — CHAPTER 1

— written by june.

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader*

rating: explicit (18+) — mind the tags, see masterlist for disclaimers

summary: against your wishes, you call the curtain on your relationship with coriolanus snow and walk out of his life for good. against your wishes, he waltzes back in like nothing's changed.

tags: exes to lovers, it's complicated, slow burn but they're constantly fucking, manipulation, toxic relationship, power play, unprotected sex, bdsm, dom!coriolanus, sub!reader, edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, spit kink, bondage, pearl play, choking, shoe riding, degradation, dirty talk, brat taming, penetrative sex (piv), aftercare

taglist: comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist.

wordcount: 4,352

just before our love got lost you said "i am as constant as a northern star" and i said "constantly in the darkness, where's that at? if you want me i'll be in the bar."

“Coriolanus…” You drop the silver cutlery on the fine porcelain, the sound sharp enough that he winces. Good. This should hurt him as much as it hurts you. “What are we even doing anymore?”

His face holds that cold expression you can’t read, beautiful and impossible, a question you saw the first day you met him and you knew you wanted to crack him open.

You always knew he had ambition, and you possessed plenty to match. Power called to you from an early age, you’d just gotten smarter about you grabbed it. Still, he made you better. He made you sharper. And in turn, you could make him look soft enough to please.

But the parts of you that slotted together like perfect gears before had grown jagged and mismatched now. His ambitions mean more than you. They come before you. A part of you thinks it would be okay if he still made room for you at the end of the night, but it’s all perfunctory and dutiful.

“We need to talk. Actually talk.”

It’s not for a lack of trying to understand him, but there’s walls in Coryo that shift position, closing him off when you’re not careful enough. Talking with him turns into talking to him. He never did share much, even when you made it clear that you supported his ambitions, never troubling him with your own. You’re big girl, after all, independent and capable, you can hold your own value and underscore his. You know how to charm the worst of them and flatter the best of them, you are an asset beyond compare and yet he’s losing interest. Galling.

“I’ve been loyal, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I’ve kept clean in public so you can defile me in private. I play your game so well, and yet…” You flick your finger against the crystal wine glass, lipstick stains rimming the edge. You dressed to the nines tonight, giving him a last chance to look at you, at everything you offered him as a partner in every sense of the word. “You make me feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

His silence hangs heavy and painful in the air between you two. There’s something so pristine and perfect about the room that itches in your gut, that sometimes makes you want to take the knife and stab him through the back of his hand just to see if he’d even flinch.

“Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

Oh, how icy his gaze is. It cuts right through you, past all your defenses.

These dinners, once bubbling with conversation and excited plans about the next chance you’d have to shift the board, have turned to quiet and perfunctory affairs now. He meets your eyes less and less on the university campus. You spend hours waiting for him in the quiet hallways on the top floor no one goes to, doing your seminar readings in the same hidden alcove where he once liked to make you moan so high a rumor had spread of a ghost haunting.

It doesn’t matter to you that he is busy, it mattered that he stopped including you, that he didn’t even try. And you can’t get through to him. It’s getting sad — worse, stale. On top of that, people are talking. Gossip loud enough that you could hear it from the back rows in lecture halls, of discord between Panem’s golden future and his leading lady. Bad metrics for both of you… and it fucking stings too.

His heart isn’t in your mouth anymore, and you are beginning to starve. And he’d let you.

You fold up the napkin, dropping it on top of the half-finished meal, knowing the waste will irk him. Whatever hook you still have in him you will pull on. You must. You refuse to go down without damages.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? It’s easier this way, me deciding to leave you, that way you won’t have to clean up the mess. That’s why you’ve been so cold, right?”

He doesn’t speak. Pushing the chair out, you get up and walk the length of the table, your heels clicking loud against the marble. You move close to him, press your body against his and feel the heat of his breath on your skin… but his expression does not shift, and you shake your head with a pained noise catching in your throat.

“I don’t think you are this cold,” you whisper, slipping your hand in under his shirt, pressing your fingers against his chest. His heart beats hard and strong. “I hope you realize when I’m gone…” You trail off, struggling with the words.

Silence. Again. He’s leaning back in the chair, watching you try to reconcile this… and he is letting you flounder. Has he allowed you to ask for his time with the intention to give you nothing? The cruelty in that hurts even worse.

“Goodbye, Coriolanus.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek, scraping your nails over his skin, hoping it stings as much as his icy silence does. You gather your bag and coat, and leave his penthouse quietly.

In the elevator, you wipe at an errant tear. The air around you feels crushing but you cannot give in under pressure. You won’t.

For a few days, you don’t cry. You had foreseen this outcome to the conversation after all, made your preparations to leave as little behind as possible, and fortified yourself to understand that no matter how perfect a match you seemingly were for each other, you still actively had to choose one another. Whatever had consumed him also kept him from letting you in as he used to, and it meant he was no longer choosing you.

The barb still lodged itself deep in your chest, leaking poison all the same.

You go through the motions, brushing your hair, washing your face, studying. It’s in one of the lectures, the professor slipping through the lackluster material, that it hits like a fist between the ribs, and you clutch at your side remembering how Coryo would have made this make sense to you. It hits all at once how he’s not there, won’t be, he’s not going to make even the dullest media history class shine bright anymore.

When the tears come, it is Clemensia who wipes them away, lets your head rest in her lap, and offers to fetch the rest of your things. She was his friend first; you’d been a year under them in the Academy. When she comes back she doesn’t say if he reacted, though you doubt he was even at home. She strokes your hair, assuring you she won’t pick a side. Through all her care of you in the weeks to come, she proves her words, not letting you flinch away in public.

“Just because he plays a good game,” she reminds you, “doesn’t mean you can’t make a better move.”

You slowly get back on your feet, keeping her words in mind. She helps with applying your makeup on days when your hands are too shaky, keeping your perfectly crafted mask in place. She glues herself to your side as you attend classes, keeping it cordial with Coriolanus while your gaze slips past him. You forgot how good it felt to be someone’s priority.

“Why are you being so nice about this?” you ask one night, exasperated as she’s getting you ready for a party, squirming in your seat. You don’t feel ready for re-emerging into society, but what choice do you have? Crawl into a hole and vanish? You’d never give him the pleasure.

She rolls her eyes and gets up off the floor to fetch a dusty bottle of posca from the shelves.

“It’s not that different,” she says, handing a glass over to you. “I was in his corner too, and it bit me. Hard.” She grimaces, scratching at her wrist before rolling down the sleeve over her hands.

“Did you two…” You have wondered, after all, jealousy flickering at times like a dangerous question mark.

“Not like that! I just needed him to show up for me, to do this one thing, and he was busy chasing his own greatness.”

It's a relief to hear, mostly because you have an easier time believing her than him. “But you got over it.”

“I can’t fault him. If you’re here, it means something, and it’s not always flattering.” She wrinkles her nose at the posca even as she drinks it down. “When you want something so bad because you need to make sense of the world, to bring some sense of order to the chaos of life… I know you get it. He’s always been this way, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Her words are just a whisper as she pins curls in place on your head, her hand lingering to trace your chin as she examines your face.

Clemensia had taken a liking to doing these little things for you, drawing from a deep well of knowledge she’d amassed. It had become an outlet for her, creativity to couple with her own ambition. She liked to practice different looks on you before paring them down to a more fitting style suitable to current trends, but each flourish of her brush warmed your skin.

You knew that duality well — of wanting to create and struggling to find the time and place. Ever since you were small, your parents had clung to the idea that singing lessons and dance classes were of utmost importance, even keeping them going during the war. They wanted you to excel, rise in standing, and it had honed you.  

Unbidden, one of his old comments floats up in your mind, making your breath stutter. ‘You have the prettiest voice of all the girls in Panem, do you know that?’ And while you scoffed then, your ego bloomed under his praise. ‘Tell me more about how much you love my voice, Coryo…’

“Hey… come back to me, you better not ruin the hard work I’ve just done, I don’t do hard work for just anyone, you know?” Clemmie teases, but you can see a stern look in her eyes. You don’t have a lot of time, and she isn’t keen to waste it. “We have somewhere to be soon, okay?”

You nod. She’s right. The Capitol’s numerous galas and grand events throughout the year had kept going despite your broken heart, and tonight is the Rose Ball, an extravagant gala held in the grand conservatory with an orchestra playing and the guest list consisting of only the names of the highest esteem in the Capitol. And your name was still on it. Tonight, you intend to make sure it isn’t the last invite sent your way, no matter what.

Clemensia finishes with a lipstick red as wine, smiling as she puts her hands on your shoulders and turns you to the mirror.

“Look at you,” she says, tilting your chin up so the light catches the pearlescent shimmer dusted on your skin. “Everyone will be falling for you. And he will have no choice but to watch what he lost.”

You shiver in excitement.

You share the ride with some people Clemensia knows, and while they gossip away, you sit alone with your thoughts, the mask wavering for a moment. This is the first formal gathering you’re attending since the split… Several months of picking up the pieces to pretend like everything’s fine, to recoup as much of your image as possible, while still doing him the courtesy to not hurt his. You have been so good, and still people look at you as if you made a mistake and not him.

Tonight would be harder to find a bathroom to tuck away into, an empty study room to make your safe haven. No cover to hide behind, so you needed to don the appropriate armor, to appear unaffected. To tell a tale to outdo his. After all, Clemensia’s right, everyone can be made to want you. You will move on, and you will make him regret it while you do. You will remind him that your heart isn’t a delicate plaything, but a fire furious enough to match his.

You play with the pearls around your neck, the matching gold and pearl earrings bouncing against your cheek as the car passes over cobblestoned streets. They are the very same Coriolanus gifted you on your first anniversary, and weighted with memories. You thought about throwing them away immediately after the break-up, but that would have said something about him winning, and you can’t stand that.

Clemensia, hawk-eyed as ever, notices your nervous fiddling and nudges your foot with hers right as the car pulls up to the entrance. “Shall we then?” Clemensia offers you her arm and you take it gratefully. You revel in the sync of your heels clicking as you ascend the hard steps to your most important battlefield yet.

Past the heavy gilded doors, the gala’s milling crowd slows down as you enter, eyes drawn to you. You hold your head high, gripping Clemensia’s arm tight. No one here will get the pleasure of seeing you flinch. They announce your names, and you smile, brilliant and beautiful. The corset underneath your rose-red dress keeps your back straight, reminiscent of old elegances that has the old garde softening for you.

You think you spot him on the far end of the room, but the shadows are long and the lights dimmed. His gaze feels a certain way though, and there’s a wicked warmth in your chest that only he has ever made you feel.

“I’m going to do reconnaissance,” Clemensia says as she gives your hand a squeeze. “Let me get the lay of the land.”

“Go, go.” You wave her off, confidently stepping into a circle that parts to let you in amongst them, laughing at the right time. If there is one dance you know better than any other, it is this: the social graces and manners expected of you in these cutthroat places, where the marble runs red with lies and blood. Your heels know where to step even when sleepwalking.

While your mask does not waver, you sure feel bare under all the scrutiny, hungry gazes roving over every bared slip of skin on your arms. After what feels like hours of compliments, cruelties and layered comments, you find a brief escape in an alcove on the second floor, rubbing at your sore ankles as you catch your breath, head spinning. Roses weigh in on all sides of you, enchanting and heady. If you had to say something nice, it’s that Coriolanus knows how to work with the best event planners the Capitol has to offer.

You rip off a handful of petals, crushing them until the fragrant oils spill forth, and press them down the front of your dress before you get up to continue mingling.

The night is long: a dance with the Featherpillow boy a year your junior who easily dances circles around most of the men here; a glass of champagne with the Fairweather twins as you chat about the latest fashion trends and they enviously compliment your pearls; Clemensia whisking you away to a polite and stiff conversation with the Ravenstills. The night goes on for some time in this manner, gliding between dances, advances, and gossip. No one can seem to keep you in one place.

And everywhere you go, you feel the constant, unrelenting pierce of eyes on you. Not just the masses… his.

You are showing him up. Everyone knows it. Coming to his event with seemingly no hard feelings, dressed like a classical painting, fielding every conversation with natural ease and charisma. Everyone wants to see you, talk to you, be seen with you. It’s a move that will have lesser men folding their hands.

Coryo isn’t.

There’s no shortage of attention in his corner, the constant requests for a word from important political seats and fellow society greats, and invitations to dance which he only takes when you do. The undertow between you is palpable. He is an inevitability, you can feel it when you draw close during dances, gazes brushing past each other.

He is throwing you off, little by little, his smile blistering bright and dangerous across the room, and he catches you looking. Just once. And once is all he needs.

You swipe a glass of posca from a passing waiter, knocking it back in one go. This wasn’t part of your plan.

It definitely isn’t a part of the plan that Coriolanus appears in front of you, taking the empty glass away from you with a cool smile.

“May I have the next dance?” he asks, voice perfectly warm and polite. Every single eye watches the two of you with rapt attention as he offers his hand out to you.

He knows you can’t turn him down now, and he is relishing in it. His eyes are lit up, a fire in them you have not seen in months. You put your hand in his, beaming up at him.

“It would be my pleasure,” you say, dragging out the last word until it drips like daggers from your lips.

The two of you assume the starting position, you with one hand in his, the other on his shoulder, and you can’t help but notice that it is all too comfortable a role to slip back into: the perfect pair, polished and primed for the show. A lone pianist begins to play, and you recognize the tune as one of your very favorites… one you played for Coriolanus more than once on the grand piano in his penthouse.

Maintaining a polite expression, you shoot him a look. “Did you request this piece?”

“It’s your favorite, is it not?” He keeps it civil. More than civil, he keeps it warm, saccharine sweet even as he continues to lead you without a single misstep while giving the audience a perfect dance.

“I thought you’d forget about me,” you say, testing the waters. “Like you do to everyone who no longer interests you.”

“You think I’d be that cruel?”

“I know you would be.”

A hum rumbles in his chest and you feel it against your body, heating your cheeks. The dance goes on, gliding and spinning, the room growing dizzying either from the drinks or the way he won’t drop eye contact with you.

This much attention from him was not the plan, definitely not the goal, and as the tempo slows for the twinkling end of the piece, you think you might fall over if not for the sheer adrenaline coursing through you… and the firmness of his grip, fingers digging into the back of your corset.

As the music falls quiet, there’s a brief moment where you could hear a pin drop, the tension in the air releasing as the audience applauds. You blush, bowing to him, simmering with the dual-edged feeling of having been made a spectacle of — and a part of you enjoyed it because it was him doing it.

He offers his arm to you and you hesitate, wanting to search out Clemensia in the crowd, but with the expectant eyes still on you, it’s hardly the time to turn him down.

Shit.

You take his arm with trepidation, chewing the inside of your cheek as he leads you to the upper level of the conservatory. As you pass by Clemensia you shoot her a pleading glance, but she cannot save you, and you both know it.

He knows the place like the back of his hand and leads you to a tucked-away alcove crowned with rose arches. The plush settee is comfortable but small, and you wind up pressed against his side when you sit down. Worse still, it’s like he delights in tormenting you as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in.

“Did you enjoy doing that?” With a gentle huff, you finally speak your mind, voice hushed. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath, of his entire body, and yours never forgot how good he could make you feel, aching for him like a traitor. “Did you want to make a fool of me?”

He does nothing to assuage the pained curiosity of your words, tutting as he reaches up to finger one of your earrings. “No need. You and I can both agree you made plenty spectacle of yourself all on your own tonight, darling.”

You hold back from chewing him out, refusing to align his glance to his. It always frustrated him back then and it still does, as he moves his hand to your chin and tilts your face towards his.

“Hard time letting go?”

He knows just how to stoke the fire in you. “Of you? Never.”

“As you say.” He rubs the fabric of your skirt between his fingers. “You seemed all too comfortable letting everyone reach out to pull you around tonight, truly playing the belle of the ball, hm?”

“That’s how the Capitol landscape is and you know it. I was not trying to upstage you.”

He tuts at that. “You think that is why I’m upset?”

You furrow your brow. “What else would it be?”

“Because for all your flitting about tonight…” He lowers his voice, and you lean in instinctively. “You wouldn’t have deigned to give me the time had I not put you on the spot.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your mental game board in disarray. “You’re jealous?”

You’ve learned to not cry over him anymore. Even when it hurts, when the three years down the drain remind themself like a splinter under your nail, you’ve learned better control than that. But this time, you feel the hot prick of tears in your eyes. When one slides down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb.

Damn it, damn him, damn it all. You swallow.

“After everything, you are jealous? I didn’t even come here with someone else.”

“You came here with Clemensia.”

“Yes, a friend.”

“She was my friend first.”

“Oh, don’t be a child.”

You roll your eyes, slapping his chest. He holds your hand there, and when the first feeling that runs through your heart is a sliver of hope, you know you’re done for.

“I’ve missed you.”

Check mate.

He wins again.

You try to pull away, but he resists, pressing you closer into him. For all that hurt, all the frustration, when you look into his eyes, when your gaze flits down to his lips, you still want to crush his lips with yours, to slot right into his life like you never left, and that thought gnaws at you. You hate yourself for it. And your mask is not that strong…

“You really could have thought about that earlier, Coriolanus. You had every opportunity.”

He seems content with not elaborating on why he froze you out, left you in the dark, and it frustrates you. His only response, in fact, is to act on the heat of the moment, pulling you into a kiss.

It’s greedy and hungry and he bites at your lower lip, causing you to whine. His lips are soft and taste of sugary pastries and finely aged wines and oh, it would be so easy to fall head first into how good it feels, how much you missed this, to climb on his lap right here…

You lick into his mouth, wanting all you can take before you part from him, unable to forget where you are, that there is no privacy in this place, and that you can’t risk everything for him — however badly you want to. When you pull away, you see the mess you’ve made of him, lipstick on the corners of his mouth, and it thrills to know he’s made one of you too.

“Not here,” you say. But it isn’t a no. It’s hardly a stop. It’s a challenge and you desperately want him to rise to it.

He waves over one of his attendants to assist in making you both presentable, leaving you in the seat once he is taken care of. You hold back a protest, ready to settle back into the shadows of his ambition, but then overhear him whispering about “ready the car” and “make sure they have a good time” before he turns back to you. There’s the fire that could burn the whole of the Capitol down if he wanted it. There’s the hunger that could have you willing to offer him of yourself just to sate him. It leaves you speechless. It leaves you burning.

He whisks you away out the back entrance to the waiting car and once seated in the back, partitions pulled up, you spare no time climbing on top of him, arms wrapping around his neck.

He fingers your earrings again, hand trailing down to your necklace. “Our first anniversary, hmm? Do you remember why I had the rose engraved in the gold?”

You aren’t interested in reminiscing anymore, you want the present moment, you want to burn your mouth on his. You kiss him again, rocking against him as you do, relishing in the way he tightly grabs your hips, helps you keep grinding down as he lifts up the skirt higher, skimming the top of your thigh-high stockings.

“Missed you too.” Your breath is hot and ragged against his skin.

You look over his face, bodies still slowly rocking together, and when your semi-glazed eyes meet his, you see nothing but fire, dangerous and warming, everything you have ever wanted from him. In a craze, you find yourself begging.

“Please… make me yours again.” It’s a romantic notion, and it will haunt you come morning, but now you are nothing but a bundle of nerves and want, all ripe for his picking.

“Patience,” he breathes against your neck, his lips on the pearls. “We’re almost there.”

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #corionlanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games x reader #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

[spideyanakin]

I don’t know when I’ll start to write again but in the mean time I did make a Corio playlist 🫢🫢

Pov: you’re in love with Coriolanus snow

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #corio snow #coriolanus x you #corionlanus snow x y/n #hunger games

[writersblockiskillingme]

hi love!!!! your work is so amazing i love how you write

i was wondering if you could do a corionlanus x fem reader where she’s his tribute and is about to be killed in the game but it’s kind of like that scene in you where she says “no don’t kill me im pregnant” and it’s his reaction and everyone watching trying to get them to end the games? i’d love to see what you could do w that feel free to change anything u want!

Songbird's Plan | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!tribute!reader

Summary: The presence of a song bird can change everything for one who appreciates them or "if it weren't for the baby" TBOSAS edition.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, Coriolanus Snow being in love, nickname (songbird), mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: It's finally here. Hope you enjoy.

The moment Coriolanus Snow met you he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect you from harm no matter what.

Of course he knew that that was going to be a difficult challenge because you were his tribute.

You were supposed to be in the games, you were supposed to literally fight for your life. There was always the chance that you would die, but Coriolanus didn't allow himself to think too long of this outcome. He knew that it would simply drive him to compete and utter madness.

So once the rebels bombed the arena, once he was out of the hospital and once he made sure that his tribute was okay, he sneaked into the arena the night before the games.

He spend more than half of the night searching for the places for his little songbird to hide. He did everything he could, he truly did, and he truly did though that he would be prepared for everything.

Yet as he found himself leaning towards the screen in front of him that displayed the scene of you being attacked by Coral he felt himself automatically freeze. He felt helpless.

He felt like he let you down and that ate him inside out.

Coriolanus felt like his heart was going to simply burst out of his chest as he watched, his throat tightening.

He watched Coral getting closer to you. He felt useless.

But there was something that both of you underestimated. There was a certain connection between you two. Both Coriolanus and you were smart, willing to do anything to survive.

Once Coriolanus remembered that, he forced himself to move. He could probably wipe out Coral with those badly made drones, but he needed some distraction because if Coral sees them, it's over. He could hit you.

"Please, don't!" Your voice broke out of the screen, Coriolanus felt himself flinch at the desperation behind it.

He watched your helpless form glazing away from Coral like you were on thin ice.

Coriolanus felt like he would scream put as Coral raised her weapon against you. But that's when you yelled out something that made his heart completely stop.

"No!" Your forceful voice shouted. "Don't kill me, I'm pregnant!"

Coral stopped for a moment. Coriolanus stopped for a moment. In fact, it seemed like the entire world stopped for a moment.

Coriolanus couldn't move, his mouth slightly agape as he watched you breathe heavily as you waited for Coral to move.

"Stop the games!" Tigris shouted in despair.

Coriolanus felt himself turn around quickly as he watched the mob of students standing up, waving his hands in air as they shouted to stop the games.

Coriolanus quickly turned to the screen and watched Coral still trying to gain her composure. He moved quickly, his body quicker than his mind.

If he doesn't do anything now, it would be over for you.

So as he send at least ten drones into the arena, successfully killing Coral, and as he watched your face twist in relief, and as he heard the cheers behind him he realized that maybe the hope wasn't lost after all.

His little songbird was truly a genius.

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TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

#imagine #fic #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #thg #thg movies #catching fire #if it weren’t for the baby #anon ask #anonymous #anon request #anonymous request #lucy gray #sejanus plinth

[dontwakeme-causeimdreaming]

SPOILERS: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

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So I know when Suzanne Collins announced she was releasing a prequel to the Hunger Games, there was a lot of backlash that the main character was President Snow. I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed TBOSAS and have a lot of thoughts about it. (Bear with me this will be really long)

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1. My first thought: Tigris? Like ~the~ Tigris from Mockingjay? They seem so close what happened between them to make Tigris willing to betray her family to Squad 451... obviously she was fired as a stylist for being too altered, but is there more?

2. I find it interesting that some of the improvements to The Hunger Games were Snow’s idea, like the betting and the providing the tributes food to make a better show

3. It’s absolutely horrible to see that the tributes were treated so inhumanely (Kept in the Monkey House at the zoo, starved, and given a veterinarian rather than doctor) but it’s also haunting to see the desensitization that eventually came along when it became more like a sport than senseless revenge in the Capitol. At least the Capitol children saw the problem in the 10th Games compared to the 74th

4. Reaper apologizing for having to kill the other tributes (188) is such a stark contrast to how Cato and Clove relish in killing when Katniss is in the 74th Games, which shows how well President Snow (or perhaps Dr. Gaul) did his/her job in turning the districts’s enemy into the other districts before the Capitol

5. It’s also interesting how Snow’s tribute (FROM DISTRICT 12) won the games because Snow bent the rules and relied on cleverness much in the way Katniss (obviously also from District 12) won her games

6. I LOVE that Lucy Gray wrote the Hanging Tree it must’ve been so haunting for Snow to hear when the propo of Katniss singing aired

7. The similarities between Lucy Gray and Katniss!!!

-Both have a younger relative they take care of

-Only females victors from 12

-Won by using cunning intelligence (Lucy Gray with the poison, Katniss with the berries)

-Singing the Meadow Song and the Hanging Tree

-Swimming in the lake

-Both consider running off the escape from 12 and survive in the woods

8. Snow defies the capitol (handkerchief in the snake tank) just like Katniss (the nightlock berries) to help win the games

9. “Some people call them swamp potatoes, but I like katniss better. Has a nice ring to it” (436) oh Lucy Gray! I know Katniss is a plant but it’s so fun seeing the name casually mentioned in the prequel not as a heroine but just as an ordinary name. Little does Snow know, a girl named after that plant is going to be his downfall

10. “What if this was his life: rising whenever, catching his food for the day, and hanging out with Lucy Gray by the lake? Who needed wealth and success and power when they had love?” (438) contrasted with “He [Corionlanus] imagined a group of people in wild animal furs scraping out existence in a cave somewhere. He supposed such a thing could happen, but that life would be a big step down from even the districts. Barely human” (395)

-It’s no wonder Coriolanus wants to marry a woman he detests (516) if loving Lucy Gray made him consider living in conditions he called “barely human”

11. I love Snow’s disdain for the mockingjays obviously because Katniss becomes ~the Mockingjay~, but I also love how Snow hates them because they represent a failure to the capitol, an “unauthorized co-opting [of] Capitol technology” (439), showing that the Capitol is not as necessary as they would believe (which Katniss as the Mockingjay emphasizes in the future when she dismantled the Capitol)

-“Coriolanus felt sure he’d just spotted his first mockingjay, and he disliked the thing on sight” (352)

-“He [Coriolanus] didn’t mind the jabberjays so much — they seemed rather interesting from a military standpoint— but something about the mockingjays repelled him” (417)

12. Do you think Sejanus knew that Snow betrayed him when he mouths Coryo? (470) For his sake, I hope he didn’t so that he could die feeling as though he still had a best friend rather than add more sorrow to his death

13. “Was the goal of survival further survival and nothing more?” (495) —> “but at least he would ensure survival for survival’s sake” (516)

-This reminds me of Gale’s rants in the woods when he and Katniss are hunting, how they’re surviving but not living, and that it’s a cause for rebellion and uprising

-It’s interesting to see Snow’s mindset change, from when he considered survival as the only virtue in his life when he and Lucy Gray were about to run off compared to when he decides he is capable of becoming the president and ensuring survival

-When Snow decides to ensure survival, it seems more as though ensuring the survival of the oppression to maintain his power rather than save humanity, as he claims. He, too, had scorned the idea of surviving to survive earlier (495), so why should he want the people in the districts to survive just to survive? Certainly not for humanity

14. Even the person who created The Hunger Games — Dean Highbottom — thinks they’re awful (515)

15. “Snow had been the ruination of them both” (516) 

-Even though Snow doesn’t know what happened to Lucy Gray that day in the woods, I would assume she died because in the Hunger Games novel, “Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In seventy-four years, we have had only two. Only one is still alive” (THG, 19). Obviously the victor still alive is Haymitch.

-Although, perhaps she starved because music became outlawed with the arrival of the new mayor.

-I find it interesting that District 12 even knew there was more than one victor seeing as Dr. Gaul destroyed all evidence of the 10th Games.

16. Snow hates the idea of women selling their bodies in exchange for things  they need to survive, as he sees it as losing all dignity, (like when he feels disgust at the line in Lucy Gray’s song from her interview on page 175), but then he makes the victors sell themselves once he’s president

17. It’s interesting to see the effect that Dr. Gaul has on Snow, because obviously her teaching is what made Coriolanus’s mindset change

-He calls her a lunatic (114) and agrees with Tigris when she calls Dr. Gaul sadistic (125) and felt horrified at the way Marcus’s body was displayed once caught (206), but he still says that he’ll continue the Hunger Games when he’s the president (516)

-He felt guilty murdering Bobbin (248), but in his reign as the president he was responsible for hundreds of deaths (which he never denied but did not seem to feel guilty for either in Mockingjay)

18. President Snow is known to poison his enemies to maintain his control, so I liked seeing him poison his first victim — Dean Highbottom — with rat poison (517). 

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas spoilers #tbosas #coriolanus snow #thg #The Hunger Games #suzanne collins #tigris #sejanus plinth #dr. gaul #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #district 12 #katniss everdeen #gale hawthorne #haymitch abernathy #mockingjay

[depressedacadamia]

Book Review on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Overall, this book took my heart, smashed it into pieces and then proceeded to burn them. Suzanne Collins does an excellent job at portraying Coriolanus as a conflicted protagonist from the start; in doing so, she manages to make the reader feel sympathy for him. Thus when Snow starts acting up, the reader feels obliged to stand by his side and you yourself feel conflicted- similar to the protagonist.

This by far is one of the best books I've ever read due to the turning of the main character. He starts out as a guy who hates The Hunger Games and the war and over the course of the book, he starts to do small things that would be seen as immoral. By the end of the book, he's betrayed and gotten his best friend killed, killed the mayor's daughter, attempted to abandon and then kill his girlfriend. By the very end, we are met with the cruel and infamous President Snow that is featured in The Hunger Games trilogy. I think this turning of character is done well by Collins because by the end of the book the reader hates the acts that Coriolanus has performed but it's still hard to hate Coriolanus himself after getting such a beautifully written backstory.

I think another reason I loved this book was because it explained the background of the Hanging Tree song. I absolutely loved the song and the second I read the first 2 verses in this book and how it was written, I could just tell that Coriolanus was going to do something bad. I think the writing behind the character Lucy Gray was splendidly done and it reminded me of Luna Lovegood. I think the reason why Snow is pitied in this book is partly due to Lucy Gray. Lucy Gray is a character with morals- strong ones that she firmly believes in. Snow, as established by the end of the book, is an immoral character so the fact that these two characters have any sort of interest in each other, a love interest especially, really allows us to connect to Snow and sympathise for him- maybe even root for him. It's a complete juxtaposition of the characters as well. Lucy Gray and Coriolanus Snow are complete opposites and yet they are attracted to each other. It really displays how Corionlanus needed someone with a different perspective and for all his life that person was Sejanus. When he starts growing away from Sejanus, he turns to Lucy Gray. Snow is constantly selfish, as seen in the manner in which he uses people. Alas, in the end, Snow did try and kill Lucy Gray and then proceeded to run away. While his rebellious acts at the beginning seemed to be the right thing, we as readers witness how all along these acts were all for him, not Sejanus or Lucy Gray.

Oh my goodness, lets not forget the insight behind the white roses over here! Finally, we get the entire backstory to the roses and I think because of that, the symbolisation of them is emphasised. At first, the roses are seen (in the Hunger Games trilogy) as a malicious part of Snow’s personality- a sign of revenge. The white rose was a symbol of purity and innocence - something that President Snow clearly isn’t. To add on to my point, his name is Coriolanus Snow . The irony is unfathomable; his surname and symbol both suggest purity and yet he is the complete opposite. I’d also like to quickly talk about his first name, Coriolanus. For those who don’t know, Coriolanus was a Roman general who thought he was a bit too great and became an enemy of Rome. The fact that his name is the name of a traitor and his second name is Snow immediately foreshadows that he will become a traitor. Later on in the book, Snow disobeys many Capitol rules and is forced to become a peacekeeper where he breaks more rules and then tries to kill his own girlfriend. The inability to maintain loyalty to one side further suggests that Snow is indecisive and only does what is best for him in a certain situation. The white roses symbolise that he is deceiving due to the fact that white roses mean much more than just purity. The complete juxtaposition of character compared to his name and symbol further highlights the manipulative tendencies as well as his need to maintain a flawless public image. It really illustrates his desire to appear as a person of the people. However, White roses are also a symbol of death. This complete oxymoron of purity and death fits in well with Snow’s malicious behaviour. The white roses are alluring- something that one cannot help but be attracted to however once you pick the rose, you are more than likely to die. This perfectly sums up the characteristics of Snow. The roses are a trap, similar to his cunning and crafty behaviour. Snow’s white roses symbolize his obsession over maintaining a perfect public image all while manipulating those around him and destroying those he wants gone, in an elegant and discreet manner.

If I were to improve this book, I'd say there is a part in the middle where it just loses its mojo. I had to put down the book for a few days because I genuinely couldn't manage to continue paying attention to the book. While the mass majority of this book is very fast paced and full of plot twists- the middle just slows down- Of course, it's okay for book to do that and often times, the book itself often benefits from it but I felt that right here it didn't very well. Coriolanus is a peacekeeper and what else is new? I just felt like I was waiting for something that was never going to come. However, I kept reading and thank God for that. Sejanus's death was the saddest death scene I've ever read. I think the fact that we as reader don't know if Sejanus knows whether Snow betrayed him or not makes the death so meaningful. His last words is him calling out for his mother- who we know loves him very much. Lucy Gray is there mourning. Coriolanus is mourning and yet the whole time he is still thinking about himself. Does Sejanus know what he did? Does anyone else know? Worst of all, after Sejanus dies, one of Snow's first thoughts is that he is safe from the Capitol ever finding out what happens. This just goes to prove Coriolanus's selfish and immoral nature. But the ending of this book is what put the cherry on top for me. I think a specific part of the epilogue in particular got to me. It was went we find out that the Plinths and the Snows are kind of one big family now. In particular, Strabo treating Coriolanus like his own son. Earlier in the book it's mentioned that Strabo would much rather Coriolanus to be his son rather than his actual child, Sejanus. I think it is simply so heartbreaking to see Strabo treat Coriolanus like his son when he didn't treat Sejanus in the same way. At the end it is strongly hinted that Coriolanus poisoned Dean Highbottom which once and for all settles Snow's true nature. It reveals the truth that Coriolanus will kill for power and that he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. He just like his father Crassus- the person who stole Dean's idea of the Hunger Games and actually pitched it (despite Dean's subjections to it). Manipulative, deceiving and ruthless, Coriolanus Snow is the evil protagonist and Collins ends the book with a classic overarching loop. In the first Hunger Games book, Snow was evil, and now at the end of the last book ( well, that we know of), Snow has been portrayed in many different lights and has returned to the one that suited him most. Being a villain.

#books & libraries #bookish #booklr #books #book blog #book analysis #book aesthetic #bookaholic #book reviews #book review #book appreciation #book recs pls #aesthetic #tumblr #acadamia #The hunger games #thg #thg trilogy #Catching fire #Mockingjay #corionalnus #coriolanus snow #Lucy gray #thg characters #essay #booksbooksbooks #The balllad of songbirds and snakes

[topperscumslut]

look i’ll never complain about a sejanus edit but the people editing him to can’t catch me now just don’t make any sense to me. that is clearly lucy gray’s song. olivia rodrigo already has a song for sejanus and it is called the grudge.

#sejanus plinth #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #corionlanus snow #olivia rodrigo #can’t catch me now #the hunger games #thg #josh andres rivera #rachel zegler #coriolanus snow

[topperscumslut]

i will be going to piss at this exact moment of tbosas cuz first of all my bladder can’t handle a two and a half hour movie and second of all my boyfriend will have to drag me from the theatre wailing and sobbing at the top of my lungs otherwise

#sejanus and coriolanus #sejanus plinth #corionlanus snow #tbosas #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow anti #the hunger games #thg

[topperscumslut]

i think sejanus lost himself in coriolanus and would have accepted anything from him btw. i think he did see him as a brother but may have also been a little bit gay for him too and those aren’t mutual exclusive and there’s nothing wrong with the fact that he felt both at once. i think he cared about coriolanus enough that he would have taken any type of relationship, any smidge of affection that coriolanus was willing to give him, in order to not lose coriolanus and in turn lose himself.

#sejanus and coriolanus #sejanus plinth #corionlanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas spoilers #the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #the hunger games #thg #josh andres rivera #tom blyth

[topperscumslut]

tbosas completely changed how i see coriolanus snow, not in the way of making me sympathize with him or even like him cuz it absolutely didn’t but just making me see him as a total loser lol. like obviously i never liked him but in the original series i at least saw him as a pretty powerful and scary villain but this sorry excuse of a man is so unserious ohmygod like he’s literally just a pathetic old man LMAO

#corionlanus snow #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #tom blyth #donald sutherland

[topperscumslut]

i need more sexy sejanus plinth edits i already watched all the sad ones in one night and had a mental breakdown im done crying over him i want to be a WHORE

#tbosas #sejanus plinth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #corionlanus snow

[topperscumslut]

it’s so funny that people thought tbosbas would make people like and sympathize with coriolanus too much cuz we would finally understand where he was coming from but it in fact made me go from ur average person who strongly dislikes snow as much as everyone else in the fandom does, to literally being a coriolanus snow hater first and a human second

#tbosas #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #corionlanus snow #the hunger games #thg