#manipulation

[ms-strawberry-tulip]

#female manipulator #lana del rey #soft grunge #boyfriend #coquette #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #lana del ray aesthetic #lizzy grant #girlblogging #just girly things #girl manipulator #manipulation #female rage #female hysteria

[lijojo]

genshin sugar daddies

premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)

tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni

mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.

on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.

periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.

then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.

even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.

when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.

you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.

"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."

he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.

"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."

you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.

tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.

or a dollar.

childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.

"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."

you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."

you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.

"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"

"childe!" you chide.

he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.

he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.

you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.

the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.

"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"

of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.

but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.

"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.

it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.

"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"

the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"

"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.

the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.

"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."

his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."

your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.

"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"

he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."

wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.

out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.

you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.

even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.

you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.

"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"

it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."

"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."

his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."

his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"

he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.

"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."

"kazu—"

"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"

"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"

there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."

after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.

after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.

on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.

you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.

his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.

except when spring comes.

when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.

you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.

the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.

as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.

"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"

some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.

and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.

then the process starts all over again.

when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.

"why won't you leave them all for me?"

you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."

his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."

his words make you freeze a bit.

you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.

so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."

as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.

you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.

at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.

when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.

when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.

and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.

sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.

in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.

after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:

outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.

somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.

outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.

the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.

his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.

your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.

you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.

"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."

he smiles.

"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."

saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.

on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.

today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.

it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.

ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.

"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.

"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."

he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."

you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.

at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.

somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.

but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.

instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.

you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.

when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.

instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.

sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.

in other words, he sees you.

at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.

conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.

kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.

at least, that's how you used to be.

you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.

and that's not the only thing that's changed.

the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.

but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.

vulnerable.

after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.

although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.

his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.

the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.

instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.

but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.

you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #kazuha x reader #ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitam x reader #tighnari x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #genshin smut #yandere x reader #yanderes x reader #yandere imagines #tw yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #manipulation #tw power dynamics #fem reader #bro the way i've been lowk procrastinating on this #reverse harem x reader #yandere reverse harem #minors dni #jojo writes nsfw/dark content

[prettyglitteryprincess]

One of my latest fantasies is being slowly turned into a perverted whore.

I was shy and innocent when you met me. Even a chaste kiss was too much for me. You took it slow for the first few months. Telling me that you'd wait until I was ready. And when I finally was, you were gentle and romantic. That is what made me fall in love with you more.

But then you slowly started to make changes. The next time we had sex, you held my wrists. I didn't think much of it, so I let you and enjoyed it. The next, you clasped my throat. Not choking me, just holding. It didn't hurt, so I was fine. After that, you convinced me to watch porn as you fucked me from behind. You even slapped my ass, so hard it left a mark, and I let it happen because you praised me.

You moved our fucking sessions outside of the bedroom. On the couch, on the kitchen island. Until eventually, we were fucking anywhere, anytime you wanted. And never once did I protest.

I was allowing everything, until finally, you crossed a line. You had hit me across the face. And afterwards, even as I was crying, you told me I liked it. You told me it made me wet. And so I listened.

I allowed you to call me horrible things. Degrading things. All because you love me.

More and more perverted things. You got me to do anal. You got me to enjoy pain. You got me to act like a silly puppy. And never once did I complain, because you told me I liked it. You told me it made you happy. You told me it's what good girlfriends do. So I listened.

And after several, extensive months you had reprogrammed me into a little painslut. I would let you do anything whether I liked it or not. You coerced me into an addiction to your cock, to your desires.

Until I was even letting your friends fuck me. And you would brag to them about how good I was. How I let you do anything. Because I'm a good girlfriend, and good girlfriends make their man happy.

You turned me into this depraved sex fiend. And now, there's no going back.

Manipulate me into becoming your slut and let me submit to your every desire.

✨💖🌸

#manipulation #painslut #pain k!nk #mind conditioning #degredation kink #humiliated sissy #daddy's good girl #dumbification

[hamoodmood]

#girlblogging #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #girlblogger #girlboss #girly things #femcel #lana del rey #female manipulator #female hysteria #whisper girl #whisper memes #manipulation #manifesting #manic pixie dream girl #cinnamon girl #coquette girl #it girl #just girly things #divine feminine #femme fatale #esoteric #ultraviolence #coquette #nympette #dolette #my year of rest and relaxation #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #lizzy grant #localy hated #waif

[kasagia]

A powerful man

Pairing: dark!young Gamemaker!candidate for president! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You thought he was different. That he would never cheat on you. But apparently Coriolanus who came back from District 12, became Gamemaker, and ran for president was not the same man you knew. And you'll soon find out how wrong you were about him. Requested by: @tastycakee Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Warning: 18+; My first time writing a smut scene, so please be gentle. I hope you will like it...🙈🙈; Coriolanus Snow, toxic behaviour; smut; Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

"Mr. Snow is busy…" you slam the door to Coriolanus' office behind you, closing it in the face of his secretary, who wouldn't let you in.

You cross your arms, glaring at your boyfriend in pure fury. Coriolanus stops writing something and looks up to enter just as you loudly shut the door behind you.

He raises his eyebrows slightly in surprise at the sight of you, then frowns at the pure anger in your eyes and clenched fists. He hopes your anger isn't caused by what he was trying to hide for you... otherwise, he will have some heads cut off.

"Y/N, darling, what are you doing here?" He asks with a charming smile as he gets up from his chair and walks over to you.

"Livia Cardew?" He stops at the mention of her name. He plays confused, frowning as he slowly responds to you, pretending to try to understand what you mean.

"I have no idea..."

"You could at least have some decency and admit that you slept with that whore!" His secretary must have heard your scream. He makes a mental note to talk to her when he's alone and to make sure he sends to the district and hangs any maid from the Cardew's house who spilled his secret.

"Look... it's not that I wanted it." He starts out gently; he tries to calm you down and explain his actions, but as soon as he takes a step towards you, you move away from him and growl like a rabid animal.

"Oh, of course not! After all, it's your dick that makes decisions for you, not your brain!" You shout at him angrily, pressing an accusatory finger into his chest.

He can no longer control himself after you cross the line. His calm, collected mask falls away to reveal his own rage and iritation. He grabs your arms tightly, making you gasp softly in pain as he shakes you lightly and pins you against the wall.

But he controls himself enough to not physically hurt you… at least not more. He just holds you there tightly, taking advantage of your moment of shock to explain his motives to you.

"Listen to me. She was a means to an end. I needed some information from her. I had to get closer, sleep with her, and sneak around her house, especially her father's office. End of the story. Considering it, it wasn't cheating. It was more like business than anything else. Besides, you're way better than her, petal. And I kept thinking about you all the time and how I'd rather have you wrapped around me than that thoughtless, naive bitch."

You feel sick when you hear it, when you imagine him in bed with her, and even more sick when you hear that he doesn't think that he did a bad thing at all. You feel like throwing up, just remembering how you let him touch you and how you treated him, worshipping him as if he were your whole world. You were so stupid and naive.

"You only prove that you are as disgusting, cruel, and manipulative as I thought. You can play with other people and their feelings, but not with mine. Not anymore. It's over. I've already moved out of your apartment, so you can continue running your campaign and exploiting other people all you want. I just fucking hope you won't win." You say it angrily, pushing him away from you.

You take advantage of the state of shock he is in, and you get out of there as fast as you can. The scent of Coriolanus' perfume clings to you, and you already know you need to take a very long bath when you get home to brush it away. As well as the felling of his hands on you. You only hope you won't have any bruises after his very tight and painful grip.

You practically run all the way to your car. You get in, not noticing that your ex-boyfriend is watching you carefully from his office window.

Coriolanus' eyes don't leave you. He watches carefully as you get into the car with his hands in his pockets.

He chastises himself for being so gentle with you. He promised himself after Lucy Gray that he would never fall in love again. And you appeared, breaking his iron resolve with one smile and a kiss. He should have made sure that he had enough control over you so that you would never think of leaving him before he started spoiling you.

All the dinners, sweet words and compliments, and thoughtful dates... he had rewarded you for nothing, and now his disobedient brat thought she could just walk away from him. Yes. He had given you too much freedom.

He should immediately clearly define the dynamics of your relationship, instead of leaving you under the illusion that you have something to say in any matter.

He remembered you from the Academy, even though you were a year younger than him. You were ambitious, like him. You always followed your own plan and ideas. Little rebel. It was cute then, but now he realises he needs to temper your personality. After all, his First Lady had to obey him at all times. You might have had a strong character and fought like a lioness, but absolutely not against him. He will destroy you or teach you obedience. You could be his wolf on a leash or his faithful dog. He didn't see it any other way. And he definitely won't let you go.

Coriolanus has already lost his one bird. He won't let another one do the same and escape from him.

And he even knew who would help him with it.

"I don't understand why they're starting a campaign when there's still a good half a year left until the elections." You grumble to your labmate as you two work on a new tranquillizer for peacekeepers to use on rebels.

"They have to check the identity and background of the candidates, and so on. My father said that the process itself was a good three months of work. Besides, considering that a president usually stays in his seat until he dies of old age, it's better that it lasts longer. Let them at least work hard to earn our votes if they are about to rule over Panem all their lives."

"That's six months of seeing that son of a bitch's face on TV, on posters around town, and on practically every fucking corner. Don't be surprised that I would prefer it to be shorter."

"I don't want to be on his side, but I think he can win. You know very well that he has charisma, money, and... well." She interrupts, blushing a little. You roll your eyes at her. You know that Coriolanus is... breathtakingly handsome. His cold beauty will steal the hearts of many. It will be useful for his media image to hide what a boor he was.

"Big cock?" You joke, no longer vulnerable to the charming side he has been showing the public.

"Y/N!" She hisses at you, laughing softly and looking around the lab. Meanwhile, the rats you were testing on became... too calm. At least Dr. Gaul's snakes will have something to eat.

"What? I'm stating facts. I wouldn't be surprised if he slept his way to the top." You say, as you are preparing new test subjects and reducing the dose of preparation a little.

"Shh! The viper is coming here." She whispers and goes back to work.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that, in fact, Dr. Gaul enters the laboratory. She might be getting older, but she still held up well. The only thing that changed was that she walked with the aid of a cane, which only added to her intimidating appearance. And the fact that she was no longer the main organiser of the Hunger Games. Coriolanus performed this role for her. Although the title was still hers.

"Dr. Gaul." You both greet her and step away from the examination table. She watches you and your work closely, mumbling something under her breath, and raises her cane, pointing at you.

"Y/L/N. My office."

"Yes, ma'am." You say and follow her. You feel your friend's eyes on your back as you follow the woman to her office.

You close the door behind you and take a seat in front of her desk as she nods towards you. Dr. Gaul takes some pills from his desk and swallows them. One of her snakes slithers between your legs and climbs up the desk to wrap around her owner's hand and then her cane. You have not only the piercing eyes of a woman but also the eyes of a snake.

She smiles, seeing that you didn't even flinch, still maintaining your calm demeanour.

"You're not a stupid girl." She says this while examining her pet. "And yet you find yourself in situations that only cast you in this light."

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, not expecting your conversation to become so... personal.

"I always said Mr. Snow would achieve something great. At the beginning, I thought he would be a Gamemaker like me. After all, he is not suitable for being a scientist like us. He has no patience; he needs new challenges, experiences, and adrenaline. But now... you know that you can have the president as... a person who is not entirely favourable to you, right?"

"I understand that there may be some difficulties…"

"Difficulties? Child, do you know him? You must be aware of what he is capable of. Or at least have some suspicions." She interrupts you, looking at you pointedly.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to calm down. You were fed up with the topic of your ex. Apparently, you couldn't just break up with him without making a fuss.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Dr. Gaul? What is it all for?" You ask, slightly annoyed, and she just laughs mockingly, shaking her head in amusement.

"I like you, child. I hope you won't disappoint me. Therefore, think about what is good for your future. Pride is fatal. Money and influence bring opportunities. But you probably already know that. After all, no one who gets into my lab is a saint. Especially not you and Mr. Snow."

"I'm not a whore like him." You defend yourself, crossing your arms, making Dr. Gaul laugh again.

The snake moves from her cane to the desk and nests in your lap. Out of habit, you stroke his head, gaining interest again and a gleam of approval in Dr. Gaul's eyes. After all, this one was a particularly venomous specimen.

"Each of us is. We may not do what they do, but for money... people can do everything. Don't you remember how you sold your dear friend? How did you knock her out of the competition for a spot in my lab? How have you done everything—play every dirty card to make sure that you will become a victor? Just like Mr. Snow. I heard there was a... misunderstanding between you two, but life isn't a fairy tale, Miss Y/L/N. You can go bankrupt and ruin your reputation while waiting for your prince. If you want to achieve something, be known as a great mind like me, and be relevant in this city full of rats and snakes, then you will do the right thing for your future."

"Dr. Gaul, with all due respect, I am acutely aware of what is good for me. And it's definitely not Coriolanus Snow." You say, standing up and letting the snake slither onto her desk again.

"Pity. So prepare a contingency plan. After all, I won't live forever. It is not known who will take my place or whose name will hang above the entrance to this laboratory. It's not my choice. But if it was, I would choose you as my successor. Unfortunately, the future president will have the most impact on that. And then... it may turn out that there will be no place for you here."

"It's not certain who will win."

"Are you sure, child?" Her question can't help but make you doubt. Coriolanus wouldn't give up so easily. You know it. Just like if Coriolanus wins, you're finished. Your entire career… "Go. Think about it. I hope you will prove that you have some mind. It would be such a pity to lose such a talented scientist as you. Especially because of stupid love affairs."

You mutter goodbye to her and leave the office. You're long back at your table in the lab when the secret door opens and Coriolanus steps out.

"Is that what you wanted, Mr. Snow?" The woman asks, turning to face him. Coriolanus moves closer to the desk, but enough to be out of her snake's reach.

"You could have been more intimidating. After all, her entire career depends on her submission."

"If you want her to truly obey you, she must come to you herself. Like a pet. Like a snake. If she sees that your relationship will bring her further benefits, she will come back to you. She's not stupid enough to waste such an opportunity. At least I hope so. You should focus on your campaign."

"I'd like that too. But currently… something else is on my mind." He says, walking over to the tinted window that overlooks the lab. He puts his hands in his pockets and watches you carefully as you work.

"You're wasting your potential. Maybe your children will be wise enough to follow in my footsteps more. One is running for president, and the other is a military chemist. Such a waste."

"Don't worry. One of our children will definitely continue your legacy, you have my word." He assures her while observing you.

You lean over the table, strands of your hair falling into your eyes behind your safety glasses, as you test another biological weapon on rats. You look hot in that scientist outfit. He grunts, feeling his pants getting a little too tight. He regrets that he never took the opportunity to visit you here...

"It better be that way. And for God's sake, don't stare at her like a love-struck puppy like you did with your tribute from 12. Patience. Or you will have to train her to make her obedient."

"You know I like a challenge, Dr. Gaul." He replies with a sly, cocky smirk and turns his head towards Doctor Gaul once he has calmed down a bit and composed himself.

"Go away now. Your last Hunger Games must be amazing and unforgettable, or I'll tell her what you have planned for her." He laughs at this, shaking his head.

"I appreciate your attempts to intimidate me, but you know I'll be happy with any outcome. Whether it's keeping her on a leash or reshaping her to meet my needs as my First Lady."

"But we both know which one you would prefer more." They share a sinister smirk. Coriolanus owed her a lot. He's learned many things under her tutelage... things that he uses to make sure you know that your place is always with him.

"As I said, I love a challenge. I will be expecting you as an honoured guest at this year's Hunger Games and my wedding. Of course, right next to my fiancée."

"Don't scare her away, Mr. Snow." She reminds him when he receives a package from her with the latest biological weapon. He will test it at this year's tributes. He smiles, thinking that it must have come from your talented fingers.

"Snow lands on top, Dr. Gaul." He assures her and says goodbye, leaving through a secret passage.

He still had a lot of things to do.

It started innocently… if that's a word you could use to describe Coriolanus Snow.

You knew he wouldn't give up so easily after your breakup and that he would want to come back to you. And that he will use every means to make sure this happens. After all, he was an ambitious bastard who thought he could do anything if he tried hard enough. And Coriolanus had big plans. Plans that you only became aware of when it was too late for you to try and rescue yourself from him.

It started with roses.

Not just any roses. The most beautiful ones Coriolanus could find in his grandmother's garden. Beautiful white roses. A symbol of love, affection, innocence, and loyalty. Everything that Coriolanus lacks.

They were delivered together with a letter in which he deeply assured you of his feelings and asked for a meeting.

You happily threw them into the fireplace.

Then he started sending you roses to the lab. And from the smiles Dr. Gaul was giving you, you knew the bastard had won her over to his side. At least you and your co-worker had some fun destroying them in all sorts of strange ways, starting with burning them with a laser, throwing them into toxic waste, or even breaking them down into the substance you needed for your experiments.

One day, gifts came along with roses. Jewellery, books, clothes (even underwear, if you could call a thin set of strings that), concert tickets with invitations from him (you'd rather cut off your ears than sit next to him in the concert hall or stand by the stage), he did everything to get your attention. Which you happily denied him.

You avoided him like the plague, missing every event he was supposed to be at (even your little sister's graduation from the Academy). But there was one event your family wouldn't let you miss.

"Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. Miss Y/L/N and Miss Y/S/N. How nice to see you all together. May the odds be ever in your favour." Dr. Gaul greets you as you arrive at the official opening gala of the Hunger Games.

"Dr. Gaul. Happy Hunger Games." You say back.

"You too, dear child. I can steal you from your parents and sister, can't I?" Your parents nod quickly before you can speak. Dr. Gaul takes you by the arm and leads you to the upper lodge.

"I believe I should sit somewhere else…"

"Nonsense. Mr. Snow made sure your family sat near Mr. and Mrs. Plinth. They have good company, so you can make us that pleasure and sit with us." he says, taking her seat. You see that on your seat is a small piece of paper with your name on it.

"Us?" You question the woman suspiciously.

"Hello, petal." Coriolanus' voice behind you confirms your suspicions. Before he sits down next to you, he leans down and places a long, wet kiss on your cheek, while he tucks the rose behind your ear. One that matches your dress perfectly. You have no idea how the bastard did it. "You look stunning, as always. I was worried you weren't feeling well when I couldn't find you at your sister's graduation."

"I've actually been feeling bad for a few days now. The smell of roses makes me sick." You tell him, not hiding the hostility and coldness in your tone. He frowns at this, obviously not happy with your allusion.

"Maybe you are pregnant?" He replies mockingly, and you glare at him. He smiles at this, placing his hand on your bare knee. You regret not wearing a longer dress. At least you wouldn't have to endure the feel of his skin against yours. Reluctantly, you remember the time when you dreamed of his touch.

"You wish." You say, shaking his hand away as you place your leg over your knee. He doesn't care and instead places his hand on your other knee, making sure the railings of the lodge cover his hand as he gently slides it under your dress. You shiver as his cold hand presses against your warm thigh.

"Oh, you have no idea." He leans gently towards you to whisper in your ear.

Before you have a chance to push him away (or slap him), Coriolanus stands up and gives the opening speech of this year's Hunger Games. You glare at Dr. Gaul, and she just shrugs and turns her attention to the tributes. Only now do you notice that the cameras are focused on your row... and especially on you and Coriolanus.

"Aside from our little jokes… it hurts me that you didn't show up to any of the events I invited you to." He says, sitting down again as the reaping of the tributes begins.

He rests his elbow on your armrest and leans in to whisper in your ear. You know that, from a distance, it looks like he's flirting with you. And you don't like it one bit. Especially since the lives of 24 young teenagers are crashing down at the same time.

"Are you talking about your political events?" You ask, trying to shrug him off and move away from him. He doesn't let you, though, taking your hand in his and placing his hand on your knee, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm talking about our dates, darling."

"We are not together anymore. And we are not going on any dates." You remind him dryly, with great hostility in your voice. The bastrad doesn't even tremble.

"I dare to disagree with you. I never said I was done with you." He says dismissively as his hand roams freely under your dress, tracing patterns on your thigh. You shiver, despising him and yourself for the way your body responds to his touch.

"Well, I am done with you." You say it firmly, with all the confidence in your voice.

"Are you sure? Your sister is a hell of a smart beast. What a pity if the university did not accept her due to... the increased number of applicants."

"Are you trying to bully me? Threaten?" You ask incredulously, finding the strength to push his hands away from you. He gives you a slightly offended look, but instead of taking your hint and moving away, he tucks your hair behind your ear.

"I'm asking for a little cooperation. The Capitol would see me better if I was... in a committed relationship. And now all eyes are on the two of us and the tributes. They'll disappear as soon as they stop transmitting, and then the eyes of the Capitol will be only on me and you. And because you're sitting very close to me, people will think you didn't come here alone... even if that's what you originally wanted."

"You bastard..." You hiss at him angrily, and he just smiles, half amused, half cocky.

He raises his hand and caresses your cheek tenderly. You want to move away from him, but he holds your jaw tightly with his fingers. He tilts your head up slightly, forcing you to look into his icy blue eyes. He smells of roses and cigars... you wonder if he started smoking after your breakup or for business, to increase the number of contacts during these smoking encounters on the balcony.

"Just one kiss and a smile, sweetheart. Is that so much to give to ensure your younger sister a secure place at university?"

"And what later? Will you force me to get engaged to you? Get married? Create a fictional family?" You ask him furiously, knowing full well that if you give this devil a finger, he will soon demand your entire arm.

"I'm not asking you to marry me. Just about pretending to be my date... for now. You don't want your sister to suffer just because you didn't want to place a kiss on my cheek, do you?" You sigh, knowing he doesn't leave you much of a choice.

"She will choose whatever field of study she wants." You make sure by bargaining with him before you agree to anything he wants you to do. He nods, and you can only hope he has the decency to keep the agreement.

You smile sweetly at him and place your hand on his cheek, turning his face towards you. You press a kiss on his other cheek, making sure to leave a trace of your lipstick. You hear people whistling and clapping in applause.

You pull away from him and keep a fake smile on your lips, ignoring his happy, cocky smirk and tone of voice as he stands up and says an ending speech. As did the shocked looks from your family and Dr. Gaul's mischievous smirk.

You have no idea that this is just the beginning. And even if you do, you try to convince yourself otherwise.

You've had enough.

For a month now, Coriolanus has been showering you with various gifts, following you around like a shadow, taking you to the laboratory, and bringing you home. He forced you to get into his limo once. The next day, it took you an hour to cover the hickeys he left on your neck.

You weren't together; you pushed him away as much as you could, and he tried at all costs to get you back into his arms or bed or into your pants. But now he has crossed the line.

That's why you stormed straight to his office again, bypassing all the secretaries and security with your natural grace.

And what unnerved you the most was how the bastard had the nerve to smile in amusement as you barged into his office.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You snap at him angrily, closing the door behind you. You walk over to his desk, the click of your heels echoing around the room as you throw your purse onto the chair and cross your arms, glaring at him.

"I have the impression that your greetings have become more and more dry and aggressive, haven't they, petal?

"My sister failed her first exam, even though I know she wrote it damn well. As it turns out, her professor is a dear friend of yours. Do you have any explanation for this?" You ask him accusingly, and he just smirks and shrugs, not even hiding the fact that he wasn't involved at all.

"Perhaps she didn't study enough?"

"Do you want to take it out on someone? Take it out on me, but leave Y/S/N out of it!" You shout at him madly, pointing a finger at him. He tilts his head at you in curiosity and stands from his chair, walking around the desk and standing in front of you.

You don't feel comfortable about him being so close to you, but there's no way that you'll show him that he's making you feel nervous and anxious.

"Calm down, sweetheart. This is exactly the reaction I needed from you." He says, his icy blue eyes piercing right through you, making you almost shiver under his intensive gaze. Even when you were in heels, he was slightly taller than you.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You growl menacingly, crossing your arms defensively. He just smiles and gently brushes your hair away from your face, smiling softly. He is not gentle. You know about it. He's waiting for your slightest slip or show of weakness.

"I've been trying to contact you for weeks, sending letters, calling, leaving notes, and trying to start a conversation."

"You push me into a limo and molest me." You say, defeating all his attempts to make you feel guilty.

You won't have any Stockholm syndrome. He is the one who pursues you; he is the one who harasses you and won't let you move on after the breakup. He didn't even fucking acknowledge your breakup! The problem was with him, not with you. And you know he saw it fully in your eyes—the certainty that what was between you was far from a healthy relationship. And he doesn't like the direction you're going with your conclusions. That's why he resorts to heavier measures.

You hold back a gasp as he suddenly closes the gap between you with one step and places his hand on your cheek. You let him stroke it tenderly as he leans towards you to whisper seductively in your ear.

"You moaned so beautifully for me that even a deaf person wouldn't think you were forced. Admit that you miss me, just like I miss you. You'll make it easier for all of us."

He pulls away from you just enough to look into your eyes again. You decide to try and play his game and lick your lips, moving your gaze between his eyes and his mouth. You tilt your chin up and lean in, your lips almost brushing against his as you whisper.

"Listen to me carefully, because I'll only say this once. I. Will. Never. Come. Back. To. You. So take a hint and leave me alone." As you finish speaking, you reach for your bag and step away from him. You're walking towards the exit when, halfway there, you hear his quick footsteps behind you.

"Not so fast." He grabbed your wrist and turned you towards him, holding you close to his chest. His eyes turn a raging ocean colour with anger and annoyance at your teasing and mockery. "Do you really want your sister to have to take thousands of exams? Work harder because you couldn't commit one evening to me?"

"Evening?" You ask indignantly and in outrage, at which he laughs.

"Nothing dirty. Although I like your way of thinking..."

"Coriolanus." You interrupt him before he can continue the topic. He rolls his eyes at you, clearly not appreciating you interrupting his fun.

"I need a date for one evening. And after the successful show we put on at the opening of The Hunger Games, people are hungry for... well, more of us. What do you say? Will you find enough courage and willingness to accompany me, my love?"

"And you'll leave Y/S/N alone? No more creating problems for her to get my attention?" You make sure. He smiles... differently. With a strange, dangerous glint in his eye that makes you feel more uneasy than how you were since he pulled you to his chest. And you realise how close he actually is when he leans in, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Have I ever broken my promise to you, Y/N?"

"Surprisingly not." You answer after a long moment, trying to remember any such situation. He always did everything he promised for you. You didn't know if it was his advantage or… a more disquieting trait.

"You see. You have my word. I will fulfil everything I promised you, my little petal. Everything." He whispers softly, making you shiver as he gently takes a rose out of his jacket pocket and places it behind your ear. You knew this supposedly sweet act of his very well. It was the importance of his territory.

After his words, there is a long silence between the two of you. You hold your breath, mesmerised, as you stare into his icy-blue eyes. He was always so… composed around you. It was as if he was always able to do and say exactly what he wanted and planned. It was as if your entire interaction was just a game for him, a game he was convinced he couldn't lose. He lost his temper with you only once—when you surprised him with that break up…. but you aren't sure if he acknowledged it.

You come to your senses and out of his strange charm the moment he leans in so close to you that your noses gently brush against each other.

You pull away from him, much to his displeasure, and clear your throat. You keep your eyes on him, and in a challenge—one of the few acts of rebellion you can commit—you reach for the rose in your hair and take it out.

"When and where is this event?" You growl through clenched teeth.

"Friday evening. I'll pick you up at 8 p.m." He says it nonchalantly, putting his hands in his pocket. He acts as if nothing happened, and he was just inviting you to the party. As if he wasn't threatening your sister's future to force you to hang on his arm as an ornament for one evening... or maybe even longer.

"I'll go there myself."

"Not happening. You're coming there with me. Transportation is on me. After all, you're my date. It would look bad in public opinion if I didn't treat you like... a princess." He says it firmly, with a delicate smile on his lips—not the pleasant, warm one, but the cunning, cold one he showed when he won over his opponent. The one you were starting to get used to.

And you think while looking at him that if you were the princess in this story, then he was the dragon, keeping you in your palace or tower away from other people. To make sure you were completely at his mercy.

"I'm not sitting next to you in the limo or any car. And if you lay your hands on me, I will cut them off with those dull knives they serve to people with the dinner." He's more amused by your threat, but nods obediently. He takes a few steps towards you but stops, leaving a decent distance between you.

"I'd like to see you try. But you have to behave yourself. Or little Y/S/N will repeat her first year at university. Are we clear?"

"Yes. And I already have a dress, so don't you dare send me anything, understood?" He chuckles mockingly at your words, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the sunlight. You know him too well to be enchanted by such a sight of him. After all, the wolf seems beautiful too, until it attacks you.

"Perfectly. I can't wait to see you then." He says it in a sweet tone of voice. You shake your head and walk towards the exit. "And Y/N." Reluctantly, you turn towards him, your hand on the doorknob. "If I were you, I would have stopped ignoring my calls."

"Go to hell." You say it in an equally sweet tone of voice as his.

You smile at him and throw a rose towards him, bowing. Just like Lucy Gray. You smile victoriously and walk out, slamming the door behind you. You're glad you were able to finally throw him out of control and get him angry.

You leave the building with your head proudly held high. But the truth is that even though you try to pretend that you are controlling your situation with Coriolanus, the truth is that you are not. And you are absolutely terrified by it.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." your sister says as you are walking down the stairs of your house. It was Friday evening, and you were waiting for Coriolanus to come pick you up.

"Thank you, Y/S/N. Revise for the exam?" You ask, walking over to the mirror and putting on your earrings. Your long silver dress hugs your curves perfectly, revealing just enough skin that you don't have to worry about feeling Coriolanus' touch on you.

"Yes. I don't have a handsome boyfriend who would take me to the Capitol Gala. I envy you so much."

"You have nothing to envy, honey. Besides, Coriolanus is not my boyfriend. We broke up." You remind her, maybe a little too harshly judging by the way the younger girl flinches. You sigh and walk over to her with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I just... don't like to remind people about it all the time. Coriolanus and I... we are just friends."

"But you were together at the Hungry Games opening ceremony! All my friends say that you two are a sweet couple and are perfect for each other." She says, adjusting the necklace around your neck, at which you smile fondly. You hug her and place a kiss on the top of her head.

"Sometimes people just… aren't meant to be together. Even if they think otherwise, remember how our parents wanted you to start dating John?" You ask, wrapping one arm around her. She winces and flinches at the memory, making you laugh out loud. You haven't laughed honestly in quite a few weeks.

"Is Coriolanus a self-absorbed idiot? That's why you don't want him?" She asks, comparing him to the boy who courted her.

"No. Not at all. He is... extremely attentive." You say it thoughtfully. And maybe other people would take it as a compliment, but to you... it was a dangerous trait. Alarming. Worrisoming.

"Well, anyway, I hope you have a nice evening. Maybe you two can talk, so he'll stop calling and sending you all this stuff. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to get jewellery from you every other day, but it must be... tiring for you if you don't love him anymore."

You smile at that. She was so… innocent; you, too, once were and believed in love. That's why you were with Coryo. He was gallant, elegant, and handsome. A true gentleman. Until he showed his true side—the side you are now afraid of. He was capable of doing many things to make sure he would get what he wanted. And now he wanted you.

"I want you to be careful..." You say, stroking her braids.

"Of what? Overworked because of studying all night?" She asks teasingly, clearly amused by your serious tone and sudden thoughtfulness.

"Of powerful men." The silence in the room after your words clearly makes your sister anxious, as does your depressed mood.

"Y/N... is everything okay?" You put on a fake smile and hug her one last time before putting your shawl around your arms and grabbing your bag.

"Of course. Don't worry about me. I'm going to have a fun night. Study. I promise it will be worth it." You say, placing a kiss on her forehead, and leave the room and house as you hear the car horn.

"Do you enjoy yourself?" Coriolanus asks, leaning in behind you and whispering in your ear as you stand at the table with alcohol and sweets.

"The champagne is delicious." You turn to look at him, to not have him behind your back, and finish the rest of your drink. You lean on the table, setting the glass down as you look at him carefully. "When can I go back home?"

"Just a few more moments, my petal." He places his hands on your shoulders, massaging them gently. You let him, leaning further into his side and closing your eyes tiredly. "Do you like it?"

"You're a poor masseur, but for lack of better hands…"

"I meant tonight. All those people who fawned over you and looked at you with respect and awe. All these women and men who wanted to fulfil your every little wish... don't you like this feeling of power? Superiority? Knowing that they will do anything to gain your favour?"

"You do it every day around me. This is nothing new." You say it dismissively and turn your back to him, taking a piece of cake from the table and eating it.

"I can stop. And I will stop if you keep pushing me away every time I try to get closer to you, every time I put my hand on your waist, every time I lean in to kiss you, and every time you push my hands away from under your dress. If you continue to insist that you are not mine, I will do things you have never imagined... even in your darkest nightmares."

"What do you want so desperately?" You ask him, irritated, putting the empty plate on the table and looking at him with an angry look as you are sick of whatever game he was playing with you.

"You." He says, taking a step towards you and grabbing your chin. He traces his fingers along your jawline, staring at your lips before returning his gaze to your eyes. "We had a good time together. You won't deny it."

"We had. And then you cheated on me." You remind him, feeling furious and hurt.

"It didn't mean anything. I told you. I'm sorry. I could have told you before it happened, let you know what I had to do… or found another way..."

"It does not matter. I don't want you anymore, Coriolanus." You tell him honestly, as you are fed up with everything that has happened between you over the past few months.

"You will change your mind."

"No. I won't." You shake your head, making his confident demeanour fall. He stares at you coldly, processing a plan in his head as he gently tightens his hand on your wrist.

"You'll do it if you still want to matter here. Do you think that if I win, I'll let you work in the lab on secret government projects? After you broke my heart so savagely in front of the entire Capitol? Do you think your family will still be willingly invited to social parties? That your family will have any future?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm warning you. You can either accept me, become my wife and First Lady, or I will make sure you get kicked out of the lab and sabotage all your research for the rest of your life."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Are you sure?" You stared at each other for a moment. You sigh, angry and frustrated, and shake your head, not believing what's happening. "Let's go outside. You could use some fresh air to calm down." Before you can answer him anything, he leads you outside, his hand on your back and suspiciously close to your ass.

You sigh, feeling the cold air of the Capitol on your hot cheeks. Reluctantly, you take Coriolanus' arm as he leads you deeper into the garden to a more secluded spot.

"You wouldn't have a bad life with me. As my First Lady, you would have everything you wanted. I would fund your research. You could leave Dr. Gaul's lab and build your own, not wait for her to die, so you can inherit her legacy. You could have built your own one."

"No, Coriolanus! You can't bribe me! If you really think that I am shallow enough to agree to marry you and to play according to the illusion you have created in your head, then you are delusional. WE. ARE. DONE."

You turn around and try to get away from him. But before you can, Coriolanus grabs your hand and spins you around, causing you to bump straight into his chest.

Before you can even think about slapping him, he captures your lips with his. You moan even more in shock into his mouth when you feel him place something cold on your finger.

You somehow manage to wriggle out of his grip enough so that his hands and mouth can't reach you. You stare at the ring on your finger in shock. A big fucking diamond that probably glows in the dark and you could gouge out his eyes with if you hit him... which you really wanted to do right now.

"What are you doing?! Corio-mph!" He cuts you off with a kiss before you can get anyone's attention with your scream or really hit him.

You struggle against his grip, your nails digging into his arms, but he just groans and pins you to the tree, ignoring the pain you caused him. Before you can even realise where his hands are, he reaches back and unbuttons your dress. The material slides down to your hips, giving him a perfect view of your bare breasts.

You shiver as you watch him lick his lips and lean down to fuck the skin of your collarbone with kisses, holding your hips in an iron grip as he pins you to the tree. The cold air hits your bare skin, in contrast to Coriolanus's hot breath and tongue.

"I missed you." He whispers in your ear as his hands cup the curve of your breasts and squeeze them.

His touch is everywhere, slithering over you and clinging to you like a snake, wrapping itself around you tenderly and greedily, taking advantage of every opportunity he has. His mouth is as dynamic as his hands, biting at the tender spots of your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his own when all he can think about is your body, pressed against him.

"I can give you everything. The whole world. For your touch, kiss, and moan when you come around me. All you have to do is accept me, me, and our future. It only takes one yes from you to make you my equal... and it only takes one no from you to make me destroy everything you love and everything you know. I will be the only one you can come to and the only person you will remember. I will destroy you if that is the price of having you, Y/N. I promise you that."

His whispered words against your skin, the hot touch of his tongue in all the right places on your neck, his hands teasing your breasts, and your quick, heavy breaths are distracting. You can't think straight, not when he's stimulating your senses, teasing your nipples, or when he's whispering his dark promises you should've been afraid of.

You come to your senses the moment one of his hands cups your abused breasts and slips under your dress, cupping your pussy. His long fingers tease you through the fabric of your panties, collecting the wetness he caused, and that's when the gravity of the whole situation hits you.

"No. Stop it. Stop! Help!" You scream, trying to push him away, but he covers your mouth with his hand brutally, drowning out any screams. You squeal as he presses his knee against your clothed cunt in an attempt to tease you.

You look at him with wide eyes as you freeze when his knee begins to rub against your most sensitive, wet (to your defeat and disgust) at his attention, part of your body.

"It ends only with me inside you, so you can either be a good girl for me or continue to be a stubborn brat and delay and deny us our pleasure. You have no idea how many times I came just from watching you from afar. You have no idea how much I want, crave, and desire you. I can't think or function normally. I can't create any plans without thinking about how wonderfully this tight pussy felt around me and how I need your soft walls to tighten around me again. So shut up and let me bring pleasure to us both, or try to keep fighting. Your stubborn struggle only excites me more, my petal."

To confirm his words, he presses himself against you, making you feel his hardness pressing through his pants and pressing against your lower abdomen. You breathe quickly, trying to think of a way out of this situation. You were in the fucking garden in the middle of a party—the gala of the year! Someone must have come here. He couldn't have just... taken you here.

"So? Will you finally accept your fate and place by my side, or do I need to break you? And trust me… I'll have even more fun."

His hands move to your hips. He changes your position, pressing you against the tree, his length rubbing through his pants against your clothed and wet core. You are trapped.

You could resist him, and maybe he would let you go... but then what? You and your family will be destroyed in the eyes of the Capitol if he wins and becomes president. You'll be finished, and your whole career will go to hell if you don't do it.

So you sigh, defeated. You close your eyes, place your hands on his shoulders, hold him for balance, and nod your head, surrendering to him.

"Look at me." You reluctantly comply, meeting his icy eyes with yours. His pupils are fully dilated, a faint blush decorates his cheeks, and you see the glint of victory and satisfaction in his eyes as he delights in his prey. You. "I need your words, my little petal." You bite your lip, furious that he's making you beg for him like a bitch in heat. As if he wasn't the one who desperately needed you all this time.

"I... please." You spit out, not looking at him. He grabs your neck in his grip and forces you to meet his gaze as his clothed body presses against your naked one, only in panties, your dress having slipped completely off of you at some point in your... conversation.

"Please what? More conviction and self-confidence, darling. Continue to be my little brat."

"Just fuck me, Coriolanus." You say it angrily, meeting his smug look. He smirks cockily, and in one quick movement, he cups the cheeks of your buttom with his hands and lifts you up, pinning you to the tree with his hips. You moan as he rubs against your clothed pussy and squeezes your ass tightly.

"Gladly." He growls, crashing into your mouth hungrily.

You gasp as he tears your panties in half, the cool night air hitting your exposed, hot womanhood. He moves his mouth to your breasts, sucking hickeys there as he teases your slick folds, making you blush with embarrassment at how wet you were for him.

He's not trying to stretch you or prepare you for taking his thick length after... such a long time of separation. The undoing of his belt and the zipper of his pants are the only warnings you get as you feel the tip of his cock with pre-cum rubbing at your entrance.

As he begins to enter you, you lower your head and bite into his neck, ignoring the collar of his shirt that covers most of his skin. Your saliva soaks his shirt as you moan into his neck.

"You know, I could have fucked you raw the day you thought you could leave me. I guess I should've done that. Put you over my knee for being a brat, give you a few spanks to remind you of your place, and fuck the baby inside you so you can focus on something meaningful. After all, your womb belongs to me, as do all of you. Although I don't know if you'd moan as sweetly and loudly as you do now… What kind of feeling is it? Having someone who you swore you despised wholeheartedly inside you? You take me too well, darling. Your smart, stubborn mouth may call me the worst names, but as long as those wet and tight down there welcome me like home, we both know what the truth is. We both know you want it as much as I do." He says, grunting as he pushes his cock into your tight pussy.

You both moan as he buries himself up to his balls inside you.

He grabs your hair and pulls your face away from his neck, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he gives you time to get used to the feeling of him inside you again. You mockingly think to yourself that he's waiting because he's afraid he'll finish too soon.

He fucks a line of kisses along your jaw as he begins to move. You hiss, digging your nails into his shoulders as you hold on to him. You think you've made a few little holes in his shirt with your nails, but that's your last concern now as he pounds into you faster and faster.

You both try to be quiet, trying not to attract anyone's attention, although, judging by the loud music coming from inside the building, it's unlikely that anyone will be looking for you. And hearing your grunts and moans is rather a huge challenge, but still, the last thing you want is for someone to walk into both of us...

"Mine. Only mine." Coriolanus growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful First Lady. Fuck. My future First Lady. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around this secluded part of the garden.

You think about everything. About how perfectly he fills you, what a bastard he is, how he drives you crazy with his words and moans and touches and thrusts, and how bad it is that you enjoy having sex with him and despise what he has done. But you have some needs too...

Unfortunately, Coriolanus was the only one who could meet them and satisfy you.

"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. We are the two sides of the same coin… WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.

You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss, but it is immediately followed by the realisation of what you have done.

You gave yourself to him. You agree to be engaged to him. The entire Capitol will be watching you. You will have to marry him if he wins the elections.

You're snapped out of your thoughts when he starts to move. But you don't open your eyes. You don't want to see him in his post-orgasmic state. You don't want to see his smug smirk and the twinkle in his eyes. You feel him press a kiss on your temple and slowly pull himself out of you, making you both moan.

You shiver as he sets you on your feet, supporting your waist with his hands. You feel how his seed, and your juices are lazily oozing down your thighs, reminding you of what you agreed to. About your deal with the devil.

You whine, grabbing his wrist in protest as he swipes the excess of your combined cum from your thighs and cunt.

"Don't worry, I know your limits." He says, pulling his hand away from your grip and licking it off. He gives you one of his fingers to suck, which you reluctantly agree to as he stuffs it into your mouth. "Good girl."

"Screw you."

He laughs at your hostility and zips up his pants. He reaches for your dress and helps you get back into it. After he rips your panties, you have to go without them, clearly feeling... the effects of your hot little moment.

"And what now?" You ask him as he puts on his jacket and buttons it, trying his best to hide the bloody marks you left on him.

"We go back to the party, I say goodbye to everyone I need to, and we leave. I have some rings for you to try on in my apartment. The one on your finger is only for a moment. It's big enough for them to notice it and start gossiping. You can choose which one you like more. My bed was also rather lonely and cold without you in it." He suggests, seductively, running a finger along your bare arm as he places the straps of your dress over your shoulders, making sure they don't slide down.

"Don't hope for more moments like this. I can play the doting fiancée in front of the Capitol, but behind closed doors, I'm not going to pretend that you're anything more than a pathetic, cold man who needs affection from someone who despises you with all her heart." You growl and push him away from you. You put your heels back on and take out your lipstick, powder, and mirror from your purse, fixing your appearance.

"It didn't look like you despised me when you cum around my cock just a few minutes ago." He points it out and walks over to you. He fixes his hair and yours and offers you his arm once you fix your makeup. You roll your eyes when you see in the mirror that he has tucked a rose behind your ear. AGAIN.

"Oh, shut up. I'd come around anyone. I haven't had sex in months." You say it angrily and place your hand in the crook of his arm as he leads you back towards the building and to the party.

"Same here." You snort derisively, not believing his confession even for a second.

"As if I could ever trust you again. Besides, you can fuck with Cardew and the others as much as you want. I don't care."

"I prefer to be with you, my little petal. Smile. We'll have company soon." He puts his arm around yours, pulling you closer to him as you walk down the path. In fact, Lucky Flickerman comes around the corner, talking with some women and men. They all giggle. The man stops when he sees the two of you.

"Oh... well... it looks like our future president is a womanizer." Coriolanus grimaces at his last word but is clearly happy that Lucky believes in his victory, so he smiles politely at the man.

"Quite the opposite. We just celebrated our engagement." He announces it proudly, and you hear the rest of Flickerman's company gossiping livelyly, watching you even more closely.

For the first time, you appreciate Coriolanus' strong arm wrapped around your waist. It's rather hard for you to stand after what you two did together a few minutes ago. You're glad you were able to finish before the group left for their walk.

"Oh! Congratulations! You have to come to my new show. People will go crazy when they hear about how Capitol's most popular couple is taking the next step in their relationship! And I think we are all very curious about your beginnings. And the wedding will come soon! I guess right after the election, am I wrong? Oh, it doesn't matter, lovebrids. It is indeed an amazing year for the society of Capitol and Panem."

"We will, Lucretius. Maybe as a presidential couple? Who knows... What do you think about it, my darling? Would you like an interview about us?" Coriolanus turns his head and looks at you questioningly, with mock concern and affection in his eyes. Only you can see how false his act is... or at least you think he is just pretending.

You hear one of the women gushing over the look and the way Coriolanus addresses you. The clever bastard plays the card of a guy who is head over heels in love to gain even more sympathy from society before the elections.

"It would be amazing, honey." You reply with a smile, leaning more into him as Flickerman and the others say how adorable the two of you are.

And you just stand there smiling, playing your part as the happy bride. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Coriolanus stealing glances at you, and you can't help but wonder... is he really that good at acting, or is he serious in his desire for you and your feelings?

Coriolanus's arm wraps around your waist possessively, like a snake, as the two of you pose for photos. Camera flashes blind you, but you keep a fake smile on your lips.

Several months have passed since your... interaction in the garden. You continued to play his loving fiancée in front of the Capitol, but you remained cold and uncaring towards him. You haven't fucked in the garden since then. You made sure to push and move away from him whenever he got too close to you in private.

Luckily, you didn't have to move into his apartment, and you still lived with your parents. You managed to convince him that moving would be pointless if you were about to move into the presidential palace. You prayed every day that this wouldn't happen.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that he turns his head to look at you. You automatically do the same without thinking much about it. And that's your mistake. When you meet his intense gaze of icy blue eyes... you can't look away. You feel like he's holding you tightly by the chin and forcing you to look into his irises... But how can you look away when you see emotions in his eyes that they would never dare admit to you? And judging by the way it sent photographers into a frenzy as they screamed in excitation, you know you're not the only one who saw it.

You still can't figure out if it's just an act or if he actually has feelings for you. Something more than a sick obsession. Maybe you were really starting to have symptoms of Stockholm syndrome?

He pulls you from your thoughts as he leans towards you to tell you something, trying to shout over the crowd around you.

"Are you ready? Shall we go to our seats?"

You nod at him. He takes your hand in his and leads you inside the building, where the official announcement of the results is to take place. The crowd around you whistles in delight as he sees how protectively he treats you and how he guides you through the crowd while making sure you keep up with his pace and don't follow him. He has you beside him, gently distant away—enough for him to be able to cover you in case of any danger.

He leads you to a place of honour next to Dr. Gaul. He kisses you on the cheek and leaves to take his place on the podium in front of the cameras with the other candidates.

"Nice ring." The woman next to you says, a teasing smirk on her lips.

"He would put a collar around my neck with his name on it if he could. I suppose you would help him with that." You snort indignantly and furiously, at which she laughs.

"I can't deny that I'm rooting for you two." You roll your eyes at her and focus your gaze on Lucky, who opens the event.

You know very well that if he becomes president, you will lose everything. All your freedom. You will have to play the role of his devoted wife and mother to his children for the rest of your life. It is true that you will have funds at your disposal to conduct your own research in the laboratory, but will it make you happy? Could you live like that?

"But there can only be one winner…" Lucky's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You and the entire Capitol are waiting for the results. To hear the name of your new president. "And that is CORIIOLANUS SNOW! Ladies and gentlemen, let's salute our president!"

The world is dying around you. People shout and chant the name of Coriolanus; there is a huge noise of applause and joy. You won't leave your seat. You sit there, frozen, realising the harsh truth. Now, nothing can stop him. He can do anything he wants, and you know damn well that he, like all these people, has no boundaries.

"But where is he? Where is our president?" Before you can look around, you feel hands cupping your face as someone pulls you to the left. Coriolanus' lips crash against yours, and you can only moan into his sudden, passionate kiss and let him do whatever he wants. "Oh, yes, that's where he is! Where else could a man be after hearing that he had won? Of course, at the side of his chosen one, his life companion, and his beloved! This is how it should be, my friends! This is who the Capitol has chosen! A man who loves his woman above all else and shares his joys and sorrows with her. That's the real power, my friends. The power of love. Ladies and gentlemen, our president, who is heading right this way, Coriolanus Snow!"

You don't remember what happened next or what speech he made. Strangely enough, consciousness fully returns to you after a few glasses of champagne and wine. You are standing near the bar, away from the large crowd. Coriolanus is already giving another interview when Dr. Gaul approaches you.

"I warned you." She says, and you raise a questioning eyebrow at her. "When you started dating. That there is nothing more dangerous and beneficial to women than powerful men."

"You knew since then?"

"Of course. He is obsessed with power and control. He had his little songbird, but she ran away. Then he met you and you became his new... love interest or obsession. This boy is hard to read sometimes." He tells you as you both look at Coriolanus. Somehow, he feels your eyes on him. He nods at Dr. Gaul and throws you a smirk before his attention returns to the journalist.

"So... it was never true?" You ask, placing your empty glass on the bar.

"I think he cares about you... on his own way." She tells you, which doesn't make you feel any better. You sigh deeply and order a glass of vodka, which you immediately drink. "Oh, don't be so sad. That's life, my child. My husband was just like him. He was a controlling manipulator, but he had one thing that I didn't, the thing that helped me achieve greatness and be where I am now. To be a legend. An icon."

"And what was that?" You ask resignedly, focusing your attention on her.

"Money. A rich and, above all, powerful man is able to do anything if he is madly in love. And Mr. Snow is a perfect example of this. Tell me... how much money has he already put into you? How much did you get in return for the ounce of attention and closeness he so desperately craves? You didn't want to be a whore, but we women have to act like one sometimes."

"There must be another way." You argue, unable to accept such a… cruel truth, but she just laughs bitterly, mockingly.

"There is not. This is the world of men, my child. It is their pride that guides and makes all important decisions. Behind every man, however, there is a woman who... has the strength to overshadow his pride and direct him the way she wants. Unfortunately, you have to seduce him if you want to get what you want. But I know you. And I know you will be able to do it. I know that you, of all people, are the closest to following my path and carrying my legacy."

"I am not like you." You respond quickly, outraged by the ideas she's giving you and her opinion of you.

"Of course not. There are no women or men like me. Besides, you may become the First Lady. The most powerful woman in all of Panem. Take it. Accept his proposal and the ring that you think will be your prison. Use it wisely. To your advantage. It's a chance that not many of us have. Think about it."

You don't have a chance to answer her. Coriolanus approaches you with a huge smile on his face. He places a quick kiss on your cheek and wraps his hand around your waist before turning his full attention to Dr. Gaul.

"Congratulations, Mr. Snow. Or should I say... Mr. President?" She asks him teasingly with a smug, proud smirk. Eventually, her student became president.

"Dr. Gaul, you, of all people, can call me whatever you want." He responds with extreme happiness—a sight that is truly rare. You also think that he is more clingy than usual.

"I shall leave you two to celebrate then, President Snow." She says it with a smile and walks past you, giving you a wink.

You sigh, which doesn't go unnoticed by Coriolanus. He rubs his hand gently over your back and stands in front of you, leaning against the bar.

"We have to go. Photographers and papparazi are dying to take a picture of us both." He says, adjusting the necklace around your neck. You grab his hand and place it against your neck, staring at him from under your eyelashes as you lean towards him and whisper seductively.

"Don't you want to accept my... very warm congratulations first, Mr. President?"

You see that he is surprised by your behavior. He freezes for a moment in shock, looking at you carefully. He licks his lips as his thoughts race, and you casually run your hand over his vest, supposedly straightening it but actually caressing him gently, especially his abdominal muscles through the fabric of his clothes.

"What do you mean?" He asks shakily, swallowing as you intrude even further into his personal space.

"You know what..." You whisper, pressing your leg against his crotch. He hisses, feeling you rub your knee against his cock, which is hardening from your attention. He looks around the room quickly, relieved to see that no one is looking at you.

"Why such a sudden change?" He asks, quickly grabbing your hand that was getting dangerously close to the waistband of his pants as he begins to lead you out of the party and into a more… secluded room.

"There is no change. I still hate you and despise you. But what can I say... I am very drawn to a powerful man, my darling..." You mock him, calling him cute nicknames as he closes the door behind you.

You gasp, surprised, when he pins you immediately against the door. You feel his length press against your hip as he leans over you to whisper in your ear.

"You're going to fall in love with me again. I promise you this, my little petal." And with that, he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, sealing his oath.

And as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moan as his hands roam and tease your pussy with his fingers, preparing you for him, you wonder if even despite your dislike for him, he'll be able to do it. After all, he was a powerful man... but you were an equally powerful woman.

#oneshot #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #tbosbas #coriolanus snow x you #corionalus snow #toxic relationship #dark coriolanus snow #manipulation #smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #volumnia gaul #the hunger games #my first smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #snow lands on top #coriolanus x y/n

[imsilay]

Dozakh

i’m back? :>

word count: 1k

not smut just obsessed, manipulative König. also not very proofread cus im lazy and have no time T-T

cr: @gruhhhuu

His heart skipped a beat when you pushed him away. He just wanted to kiss you like he always did, but you didn't seem to be in a mood for it. Because you were determined to talk about what had been bothering you. "We need to talk, König." His eyebrows frowned with confusion and hunger. He needed your taste, and he wanted it now.

“Nein. Come here.” he growled, pulling you back into his arms and wrapping them tightly around your body, trapping your arms and leaving you no room to move. You struggled and squirmed to break free, only making him angrier. "Scheiße." He lifted you up, sitting with you on the couch. "Fine. Talk." he said, breathing impatiently, still holding you down in his arms.

His big, calloused hand ran through your hair as he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "I need some space." you murmured, trying to push him away once again to put some distance between your bodies. He sucked a sharp breath, squeezing your body to stop your movements. The moment you told him that you wanted to be at your apartment for a week to think about your relationship, his brain stopped working completely. How would he continue living without you? How would he eat, sleep and breathe? It was already difficult for him to be away when he was deployed, but how could you expect him to survive without you? "Ja? Why?" his voice sounded calm yet cold. You sighed and attempted to explain: "It's overwhelming, I know you love me, and you want me close, but this," gesturing to your place on his lap and his arms holding you firmly when his voice was cold like ice. "This doesn't feel like love. I love you. I really do, but I don't know if I like being so... clingy." you watched his jaw clench as you spoke. He was always like this, getting angry whenever you mentioned leaving. His arms tightened around your midsection, as if he feared you would slip away. You could hear his breathing, feel his searching eyes scan your face and body. He wanted to be brutal, but couldn't quite lose himself yet. Not yet, at least.

"You think I'm clingy, meine kleine?" he trailed off as his hand wrapped around your throat, not in a menacing manner, but enough to make your breath hitch. "I just wanted to show you how much I love you..." His thumb caressed your pulse, feeling it increase with every passing second. "You can't leave me... You couldn't live without me. That feeling will fade. You'll get used to it." he mumbled and pulled you under his mask, kissing you breathless until you forgot why you were pushing him. His lips devoured yours with such hunger it made your head spin. He pulled back for air and saw that you had a blank look on your face. “See? You didn’t actually want to leave.” he said, his voice slightly hoarse from lust. You panted and tried to catch your breath as he kept you just inches away. It was hot under his mask and his cologne was intoxicating. The arms around your waist slid into your shirt, and his fingers caressed your soft skin. You shivered and softly sighed at the feeling of his big palm covering your body. "König, not again." you sighed, as you tried to resist the temptation he was casting. "I'm not doing anything." he pouted playfully, and kissed you again. The kiss was soft, but you felt the hunger. You felt as if you saw a spark of possession in his eyes. "I know what you're trying to do." you said as he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against yours. "What do you mean?" he mumbled, but you could still feel his hand squeeze your waist and his fingers dig into your skin. He moved closer and said, "I'm just showing you my love, meine kleine. Your lips are so addicting." As you tried to turn away, he growled and kissed your lips again, this time, forcefully. He then started moving downward to your neck, cheeks, and even your ears, without hesitation. You were his, and it didn't seem that you had a choice. He was marking you with red hickeys on your neck and jaw. When you tried to push him away, he caught your hands and pinned them between your bodies, holding your wrists with one hand. He used his other hand to grip your neck and hold you in place, stealing your breath away. "König, please stop!" you yelled. He finally stopped with your yelling. His eyes wide, and his pupils dilated, making him look like a starving predator, and you his sole prey. "Don't leave," he breathed, leaning in to kiss you again. You pulled your head out of his mask for some much-needed oxygen. You hoped he'd calm down even a little, but he didn't. Instead, he nearly ripped his mask off and glared at you, his jaw tightly clenched and his eyes filled with determination. "Can't you see how desperate I am? How could you abandon me?" he pulled your head closer using his grip on your throat and growled into your ear. Then a moment later, he began trembling, and tears filled his eyes. You felt his desperation and started to feel guilty. He let go of your wrists and moved both of his hands to hold your waist. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm not going to leave you. Don’t cry." you mumbled. You wiped away the tears. Your heart ached as you saw his tear-filled eyes, and you felt an urge to pull him closer. The sound of your voice, that sweet murmur of surrender, was the sweetest music to him. All he had wanted this whole time was you. And you were here. In his arms. He leaned forward and captured your lips. A hot, hungry, desperate kiss.

After the kiss he hugged you and buried his head into your neck as if inhaling your smell directly into his soul. “You’re so easy, but you’re mine.” he mumbled against your skin and kissed your neck softly. He smirked when you worriedly apologized and tried to soothe him. It always worked. If his words didn’t, his tears would definitely…

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>

hii ~(T-T)/~ i have a really busy studying schedule that’s why im not online like before :’) but writing is my therapy AND my acc isn’t abandoned (i’m barely looking at my phone screen)

#i know it’s not making so much sense but i tried lol #konig x you #könig smut #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #konig x y/n #könig fanfiction #könig x y/n #obsessed könig #manipulative #manipulation #könig cod #konig modern warfare #i know it’s könig #könig x you #silay #konig #konig mw2 #könig call of duty #konig call of duty #könig mw2 #konig imagine #konig headcanons

[american-boyboss]

#adhd #satire #dan hentschel #danghentschel #tiktok #manipulation #mental illness #meme #male manipulator

[mothtral]

the family notices immediately that their aeon has their benevolent eye on you. how could they not? their aeon’s gaze is a weight they’ve known like the back of their hand since childhood, and it’s always noticeable when xipe… lingers on someone. especially an outsider.

one by one, members of the family approach you. asking if you need any help, if you’re enjoying your stay, do you need help getting back to your room. oh, don’t worry about it, it's no trouble, here, let us carry your bags.

sunday personally shows you around the forbidden zones, a gloved finger held to his lips to quiet your excited giggles. at first, he wondered just what drew xipe to you, but after spending night after night at your side… the picture becomes clear, with you are the main subject.

the family must be doing something right, because sunday shares with them the dream he had. xipe visited him and shared how pleased they were that the family has treated you so kindly. but they want all of them to do more. do anything that would tie you to penacony permanently.

xipe is saddened that they can’t claim you, another aeon having laid their filthy claws on you prior to your visit to penacony. no matter. things like this can break. it just takes a little time. thankfully, the dreamscape is a wonderful place where reality and time are things of the past.

(second part in another post.)

#xipe x reader #sunday x reader #xipe #sunday #hsr xipe #yandere sunday #sunday hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #mothposts #there’s a plot here. somewhere #cw for: #kidnapping #manipulation #cult #<—maybe for the last one

[vyorei]

Tumblr needs to be held accountable for the complete suppression of the pro-Palestine tags. You cannot hide what's happening, pretending it's not trending isn't going to work, we are here and we are speaking and we are ANGRY.

The global attempt to silence people speaking out against genocide is inconceivable, one would find it more realistic in a film, much like everything else that's been happening.

We aren't going to be silenced, we don't support genocide, and we won't bow to the will of a colonial force attempting to ethnically cleanse over 2 million people.

Staff should be ashamed of themselves for their actions, and I hope it haunts them.

✊🇵🇸

#free gaza #free palestine #gaza strip #irish solidarity with palestine #palestine #gaza #boycott israel #israel #Jerusalem #Colonialism #Suppression #Silencing #Abuse tactics #Manipulation #Silence is violence #Shame on you #Personal

[antoniopalmerini]

Les vacances des conjoints Magritte

#manipulation #art

[envy-of-the-apple]

The Loneliest

Dark!Geto Suguru x reader

Word count: 3.3k

Synopsis: For the longest time, you always thought you could only see them. And then you met that priest

(Warnings: dark content, manipulation, implied non-con, geto commits elder abuse)

You're not sure what they're called, but you know they aren't good. 

Demons, you settled on calling them. They were ugly, disfigured, often garbed in dark, dull colors. Nothing about them was benevolent. You'd often see them sitting on people's shoulders, practically sucking their souls dry. The small ones were easy to ward off. Usually, they'd go away on their own after a few days. A weekend of relaxation was usually all people needed to get rid of them.

From what you knew, no one else could see them. In your younger days, it'd been isolating, terrifying. Now, you are a bit grateful none of your peers could see what you could. How they'd react, you couldn't tell. 

You barely even blink when your neighbor asks if you could give her a ride to the temple, ignoring the thing that rests on her shoulders. It's bigger than what you've normally seen, with wings and human teeth. She's an older woman, with kind smiles, rambling about how she heard that the nearby temple was offering body exorcisms, how much her back hurt. You don't mention that the monks and priests or any religious figures are all fakes who lie for money. You've never met a single priest who could see what you see. 

You say nothing because it wouldn't sway her either way. Besides, it was free. 

The temple was swathed in money, just as you expected it to be. Grand pillars, clean tile floors. Money wasted on gold staircases and shiny vases. On a whim, you followed your neighbor in anyway, passing by the temples' followers. The one thing that you did note, was the significant lack of demons in the area. 

You expected the Buddhist priest to be old, an ancient being that pretended to be wise. To your surprise, you were led to a man who might have been the same age as you, if not a bit younger. He was dressed in a monk's robe, he sat on the floor, resting his chin on his arm. A closed-lipped smile was spread across his face, dripping in faux-sweetness. 

You obediently stayed silent while your neighbor prattled on about her incident. He nodded along, but it was clear he didn't really care about what she was saying. You knew what he would do. He'd coo at her misery, give her beads that would do nothing, and send her on her way. A harmless waste of time, really. The demon won't stay forever. 

There's a twitch of his fingers. The demon leering over her body is suddenly sucked away from her, into his outstretched hand. The only evidence it leaves behind is a single marble. 

"Better?" he asks, with no change of tone. That same emotionless lilt. 

Your neighbor gushes, rolling her shoulders, saying that she's never felt this way in years. You can only watch the priest with widened eyes as your neighbor is led away by a woman with a tablet in her hand. The ball rolls along his fingers, like he too admires it. 

"How-how did you do that?" You finally ask. 

For the first time since you entered that room, his eyes meet yours. Brown, almost black. He tilts his head, wordlessly asking you to repeat yourself. 

"The demon," you press, "how did you get rid of the demon?" 

The smile slips, and he sits up ever so slowly. For a moment, you think you've done something incredibly wrong as he stands to his full height. The priest easily towers over you, you're dwarfed by his unfathomable height. He stops when he's a few feet away, assessing you. 

"You can see them," it's a statement, not a question, "the curses."

"Is that what they're called?" You eagerly ask, "Curses?" 

The smile is more real now, less manufactured. 

"You have a rare gift," he says, "truly one of a kind." 

Back then, you don't digest the supremacy of his words. You don't decipher the hidden meaning, the code, the disgust for the others. You were so happy to have finally met someone who can see them, like you could. Something like relief fills your heart, another justification that you weren't crazy. You weren't just seeing things. 

His smile grows. 

"I hope you continue to come back. I have many answers for you."

 

Over the coming weeks, you learn about jujutsu. You learn about cursed energy. You learned about sorcerers. You learn about a world you've never heard of before. A world you've always dreamed of. For the longest time, you always assumed you were the only one, that you were cursed. 

Now, you know you aren't. Not anymore. 

You aren't a jujutsu sorcerer, but you didn't mind. Master Geto (Suguru, he insisted you call him) was patient with you. Understanding. He'd sit with you for hours, even when he didn't have to, answering every question you could have for him. 

Out of guilt, you volunteered to find people who have been cursed to help with his cause. Sometimes, you'd have to spruce up Suguru's power, add a bit more science and structure to what he really does. It never backfired on you, so far. Just as he advertised, Suguru was able to collect every single curse you bestowed on him. Each person you brought in would leave refreshed and satisfied. 

As you came to spend time with the priest, you learned how wrong you were about him. When you first met, you thought he was a liar, a sham. Now, you know he's everything but. He's patient and caring towards everyone who follows him. He's so young, college-age, and yet he had even adopted two twins from a horrible house situation, taking them in as his own flesh and blood. 

On top of all his responsibilities, he still managed to make time for you. You can't imagine it's easy for him. Despite his clear passion, there's a glimmer of exhaustion in his eyes. Why does he spend so much time with you? 

You ask him that one day as the two of you walk through the gardens. He doesn't reply for a while, stopping to stare at a blooming bush of roses. 

"You remind me of someone," he says suddenly. 

You look up at him then, watching his face. A tinge of nostalgia rests across his eyes. You wonder what he's thinking of. School, homework and classes? The endless lectures, the smiles of friends. Maybe he's thinking of even older. Playgrounds and swing sets that squeak. Simpler times where he wasn't something that he is now. 

"I do?" you prod, tilting your head. He reaches out, brushing his hands against the petals, careful to avoid the thorns. 

He hums, "He is the strongest. More powerful than I could ever hope to be. He stood alone at the summit." 

He plucks the rose. The bush gives with a snap. It's a pretty color. A deep red. Almost as dark as blood =.

"It's why I always felt he was lonely," he continues, "No one else could ever understand him. It's lonely to be the only one, yes?" 

It was, you realize. It felt so lonely to see things no one else could see. No one else could relate to it, not even your parents. Your friends. You were alone for nearly decades. And then, you weren't anymore. 

"Your friend," you murmur, "where is he now?" 

Suguru peels off the last of the thorns, leaving the flower glossy and bare. 

"We didn't believe in the same things, towards the end. People change. I did, so did he," he pauses, "Sometimes, I wonder what I could have done differently that day. Perhaps we could have stayed together, if I had just changed his mind." 

You think about his friend. What their relationship was like. What it would be like to lose the only one who could ever understand you. Now that you had it, you could never imagine to lose it. 

"Either way, I don't regret my decision." 

He turns to you with a sigh, reaching out to your hair. You stay still as he tucks the flower behind your ear. The petals tickle your skin. 

"A change had to be made for humanity. Sacrifices must be made. I don't care if the people I cherish think differently." 

The petals tickle your skin. 

"I'm glad you don't regret your decision," you tell him softly, "because I'm really glad I met you, Suguru." 

He gazes down at you, his face the softest you've ever seen him be. His hand lingers by your neck a lot longer than it should. Still awed by him, you choose not to say anything about it. 

"And I, you." 

Everything was going perfectly. Until you ruined it. 

It was your fault. Your error. There's a set time that Suguru allows you to visit. You always arrive a few minutes later, because you only volunteer at the temple. You still have a job. You too have responsibilities. 

But today you arrived early. A fluke. You didn't intend on it, but you didn't think anything of it, Suguru always made time for you. And you didn't mind waiting a few minutes if he couldn't. 

The box of sweets jostled in your hold as you tucked it under your arm. By now, you recognize most of Suguru's followers, as well as the fellow monks. They greet you with too-wide smiles on their faces, the same as always. You've grown to not mind them. You pass them by with very little trouble, already knowing where you were headed. Suguru's client room was just around the corner. And you always enjoyed watching him work. 

In hindsight, you wish his followers would have stopped you, distracted you from your determination, it isn't like they didn't already know. You would have listened. Meeting Suguru was not a necessity. They could have lied for him. You could have kept the tentative friendship for just a bit longer. 

He was already with someone. Eager, and careful not to disturb, you stood just behind a pillar. You don't notice how wrong the scene looks, until you see her. He was with a woman, a bit older. There's a tiny curse on her lower back, latched onto her clothing. It won't matter, Suguru will easily get rid of it. She reminds you of your neighbor in so many ways. They were the same age too. It's why you are confused as to why she's practically kneeling on the ground, her head pressed against the floor, like she's begging. For a woman her age, that position could be a hindrance to her body. 

Still, she doesn't get up. You suddenly get this strange feeling that Suguru forced her to do this. 

It's ridiculous because Suguru is kind. He's kind and patient and-

"How many donations have you made to the temple these past few months?" 

You wouldn't have even thought it was his voice, had it not come from his mouth. He sounded so cold, mocking, cruel. 

The woman seemed to tremble even more. She pressed herself harder against the ground, as if pleading to God himself. Maybe to her, Suguru was God. 

"Please," her frail voice begs, "have mercy-" 

"Manami?" Suguru turns to his trusted assistant. You yourself have spoken few words to Manami, but whenever you caught her looking there was the slightest hint of pity in her eyes. 

Maybe this was why. 

She sighs, just as clinical as her boss, as if the poor woman's begging meant nothing to her, as did he. 

"It's been a 70 percent decrease, compared to the beginning of the year." 

Suguru turned back to the woman. She was going to injure herself-why isn't Suguru telling her to get up, why isn't he doing anything?

"You haven't made much of a contribution to the temple," he sighs like this is more of an inconvenience than anything else, "I have no use for an insignificant cursed spirit. I'm afraid I can't help you." 

She all but burst into tears, her sobs soaking the floor. You feel the numb sense of horror, misery and pain as her cries bleed into your ears. 

"Please-please Master Geto. I-I don't know how much of this I can take." 

Suguru regards her for a moment. 

"I think I might have a way to solve your problem, then." 

Slowly, she lifts her head up. You swallow at her face. Tired eyes, an exhausted look. 

"You-you do, Master?" 

His answer comes in the form of a snap of his fingers. 

It's the biggest curse you've ever seen, larger than a car. She doesn't even put up a fight, screaming and screaming and screaming. When her pitch changes, turning into something more out of horror than pain, you realize that she can see it too. 

It's a quick progression. It barely lasts a minute. The sounds of sucking and eating are so loud that it covers the sounds of the sweets dropping on the floor. They were supposed to be a gift for Suguru. You wanted to thank him again. You wanted to reward him for his kindness and patience. 

Master Geto only looks in mild disgust at the bloodbath. 

"They always die so messily," he sighs, looking at his blood-stained hands as Manami obediently hands him a towel, "Insects, that's all they are." 

For the first time, since you've met him, Suguru gives a genuine smile. 

It looks wrong. Too wide. Too many teeth. His lips curved into something thin and horrific. 

Something evil. 

It takes a week of your disappearance for Suguru to inquire why you haven't visited the temple. 

You leave the messages unopened. When he tries calling, you turn your phone off. For seven days, you stay away from the temple, away from sorcerers, and away from Suguru. 

A part of you still can't believe it. A part of you is convinced that what you saw has to be fake. Because, if it was real. If he had truly killed that woman, if he could control curses to do his bidding, then that meant for weeks-for weeks he was manipulating you. Lying to you. 

There was no if. That's exactly what he was doing. 

You sat on the couch, watching the TV in mild interest. Usually, at this time, you'd be at the temple, learning about the jujutsu world. Earlier, the lessons would fill you with a sense of awe. 

Now, you can't even think about jujutsu without thinking of Suguru next. 

Suguru mentioned he had a friend. A friend that was stronger than him, right? Could-could you find him? Could you tell him what Suguru has been doing-

"It's not very polite to ignore a person." 

You jump, wide eyes catching his figure right at the doorway. You get up to your feet, watching as Suguru casually steps into your home. Your safety. 

"How-how did you...?" You can barely get the words out. 

He understands you anyway, and out of your peripheral vision, you see a cursed spirit waddle up behind him. It coughs something out of it's throat. The remains of your door knob land by your feet. 

In any other situation, you would have been angry at Suguru's disregard for your property. Now, damage to your personal property was the last thing on your mind. 

He wasn't wearing his monk garb (A mere costume, you now realize). He had dressed in a shirt and casual pants. Out of his usual garments, he almost looks normal. Human. The exact type of person he'd spit on. 

"You haven't visited me lately," he starts, always one to get to the point. 

You shift on your feet, "I've been busy....with work. I haven't had time." 

"Really?" He tilts his head, assessing you, a hint of a smirk crosses his face like he knows you're lying. No, he does know you're lying. 

When you don't reply, when you fix your gaze on the floor, willing to God or demon or curse that he would just go away, Suguru sighs. His smile dips into a frown. The curse disappears. You feel like the room is a bit less suffocating. 

"I...apologize for what you saw," he finally says, "You shouldn't have seen it so early. I should have been more careful." 

You blink. For the first time in this conversation, you find your words. 

"Do...do you think that's what this is about?" He gives a blank look. "Suguru...you killed her." 

You expected some type of reaction. Aggressiveness, anger, defenses, excuses. You got none of that. Instead, Suguru merely hummed in acknowledgment of casual admittance. 

"I said it before, haven't I? Sacrifices must be made to change humanity." 

"That's-that's not sacrifice," it was like you were talking to a wall, repeating your point over and over again until you bashed your skull in, "that's-that's slaughter." 

"You said you were glad with my-" 

"You're killing innocent fucking people!-" 

"They're not people." 

You froze at his tone. Throughout your friendship with Suguru, you've seen him express a variety of emotions. Joy, exasperation, irritation. Never have you seen Suguru angry before. 

Never, until now. 

He stands up straighter, his hands twitch by his sides as if they're barely keeping themselves in check. His face has gone blank, like he's lost all motivation to fake his emotions now. There's no point to it, not when you know who he truly is. 

"They aren't even the same species as us," his words are quiet but you can hear the hatred and that scares you the most, "They are at the bottom of the food chain. Mere insects, parasites, that only create problems. They're not like you or me."

His smile comes back. Just as horrible as when you last saw it. 

"They're worthless." 

He's no priest, you steadily realize. He's no saint, no hero. 

"Get out."

You wish you could have made your words sound harsher, but it was barely a whisper. You couldn't even hear yourself, much less hear the venom. 

He sighs, his anger fades, the disappointment stays. 

"I understand." He nods, his voice too condescending to not be noticed. "To be perfectly honest, I expected this. You've spent your entire life with those insects, obsessing over their needs when you didn't have to. It's only natural to have an affinity for them. I did too. It's why I know, you'll feel differently in the future." 

"Fuck you," you hiss, "fuck you and your fucked up cult. You're a monster, you're a-"

He doesn't let you finish. One minute, he's across the room. The next, you feel his hand slap across your mouth as you fall back into the sofa. Your panic is immediate as he fully covers you with his body, pressing you into the cushions. 

Suguru's touched you before. You never noticed. Never cared enough to notice. They were sparse brushes of fingers against your waist, arms, shoulders. Harmless. 

Looking back, you wonder if you should have protested more against them. Maybe he'd have less courage to bury his face into your hair, breathing in your scent as he closed his eyes. Or maybe it would have just made it worse. 

"You're scared," he tells you, but it sounds like he's talking to himself, "It's okay to be upset." 

You scream, but it comes out as a muffled sob. Suguru's mouth trails down your cheek. He kisses the underside of your jaw. 

"You don't have to be. I promise I'll never hurt you. I cherish you too much."

He's lying. He's a liar. That's all he ever did. Lie to you. Cheat you.

When he pulls back to look at you, he almost smiles. 

"I think I'm starting to understand why he left: I let him go."

His grin gets wider.

"I don't plan on doing that with you." 

#dark content #yandere jjk #yandere #dark geto suguru #yandere geto suguru #x reader #manipulation #implied non con #hint of satosugu

[ms-strawberry-tulip]

#lana del rey #soft grunge #boyfriend #coquette #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #lana del ray aesthetic #lizzy grant #girlblogging #female manipulator #just girly things #girl manipulator #manipulation #hell is a teenage girl #im just a girl #female rage #feminine rage #female hysteria

[tklshtxler]

#trauma #manipulation #parents #mental health #abuse survivor #narcissistic abuse #emotional abuse

[melblogsgfreethruptsd]

#toxic parents #emotional abuse #trauma #aftermath #parental abuse #accountability #repentance #manipulation #dysfunctional family #boundaries #trust #trust issues #ptsd #relationship problems

[kasagia]

District boy

Pairing: young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader; doppëlganger! Finnick Odair x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You and Corio were very close (best) friends. Young Snow had a crush on you for a very long time. But he wouldn't let anything distract him—not until he got his family out of their financial troubles. And then comes the 10th Hunger Games, in which you get to be a mentor for a very handsome tribute... Coryo isn't happy about it at all. Requested by: Two anonymous. I hope you will like it! 😊💙🖤 Warning(s): jealous Coriolanus Snow; (doppëlganger) of Finnick Odair; the author doesn't care that it is impossible; Coryo being simp for the reader; reader flirts with Finnick; quote from 'My tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift; Words count: 7k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

Coriolanus did not remember the exact moment when this happened.

Everything that had to do with you came to him very... naturally.

Before he knew it, one joint project for one of your classes turned into daily discussions in the cafeteria. You entered his very small circle of 'friends' like you should have always belonged there and unknowingly became the best friend to young Snow.

And then you started staying in the library after classes, talking about various things (Coriolanus hated himself for wasting his time when he should have been studying on pointless discussions with you, but he always ended up in the library at the end of the day anyway).

And so one day he realised that you were wonderful when you laughed at his jokes. That the smell of your perfume made him hungrier than the baked goods that spread from the bakery he passed by every day on his way to the Academy. That he was missing something as he basked in the glow of your attention. That he would like you to be with him at all times, not only within the walls of the Academy, cafes (he never ordered himself anything, trying to stop his stomach from growling as he watched you eat the cake, occasionally offering him a bite), or the park. That he would like to have you completely to himself and hide you from the eyes of other people who, in his opinion, were not worthy of an ounce of your attention.

He remembered snapping at Festus when he asked him if you were seeing anyone. As if Coriolanus' claim about you wasn't obvious enough to him.

Although you also remained blind to his obvious feelings, which Sejanus said were as visible as an approaching change in the weather in the Rocky Mountains. By the way, he wondered when Sejanus would forget those catchphrases from District 2. They were very tiring and boring to listen to.

But Snow decided to let you stay in the dark for a little longer and admire you in silence, from his place next to you as your best friend. He promised himself that when he won the Plinth Prize, he would conquer not only the world but you and your heart. After all, he couldn't imagine anyone else being his First Lady than you.

He knew that his fascination with you was gradually turning into an unhealthy obsession. But what else could he do when you took his breath away just by existing? And Coryo wasn't used to not having control over his emotions. But with you... you could do whatever you wanted with him. And he was terrified, both by the fact that you had such power over him and by the fact that you were completely unaware of it.

However, everything was going according to his plan. He stayed by your side, guarding you like a gardener's dog and waiting for the moment when he would finally be worthy of you and make you his. And you seemed to obediently dismiss every admirer.

Until the 10th Hunger Games came along.

And a certain district boy stole too much of your attention for Coriolanus' liking. After all, you were HIS. Even if you didn't know about it yet.

"Hello, petal." He whispers in your ear, walking up to you from behind.

Surprised, you choke on the champagne you drank in secret from your parents and other participants in the reaping party at the Academy. He smiles in amusement, gently patting your back and discreetly placing the glass of champagne on the table for you.

"Coriolanus Snow, someday I'll put a fucking bell around your neck like my mother's cats have." You say, coughing. He laughs softly, offering you his arm, which you take once you've recovered.

"I thought you considered it brutal?" He replies sarcastically, glancing at the dress you were in, which hugged your curves perfectly.

A white dress that Tigris made for you 'coincidentally' matched perfectly with the outfit he was currently wearing. He had never been more proud of his cousin than he was now.

"I'm surprised that you think you're on an equal footing with my cats. You're no match for them, Snow." He rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smirk a little at your laugh.

"We will see." You snorted at that. You notice Sejanus in the crowd talking to his parents.

"I'll go say hello." You say, nodding towards Sejanus. But before you can take a step towards him, Coryo's grip on you tightens. You give him a questioning look, focusing your gaze on him.

"Stay with me. You know I don't like talking to them all by myself. Especially with Arachne. Sejan will be joining us soon." You sigh, rolling your eyes at him, but you don't try to fight his grip or let go of his arm as he leads you towards the group of your classmates.

"I spoil you too much, Snow."

"Nonsense, you could do better." You laugh in amusement, and he smiles at the sound of that.

But his good mood and relaxed demeanour quickly turned into a stoic expression. You feel him tense slightly and straighten, as if preparing for a fight, when you approach your classmates.

"Snow and Y/L/N. As always, together. You could finally make up your mind, darling, and choose one of them instead of hanging around him and Plinth." Arachne greets you, as always, nicely, at which you laugh artificially.

"Why should I when I can have both?" You reply with a shrug, making some of them laugh. However, you are most pleased with Arachne's grimace and the small smile on Coryo's lips.

"Usually it's the district girls who act like whores." You feel Coryo tense next to you, his eyes turning a cold, icy shade as he stares at the girl in front of you. If looks could kill, Coryo would become a serial killer. However, he could certainly make someone feel insecure and intimidated.

"Usually inheritance hunters don't complete their education and end up marrying some rich fool at the earliest opportunity, even before they turn 18. And yet here you are, Arachnie. I think that makes us both surprised then." You reply before Coryo can react. Festus shakes his head and stares at the both of you in amusement as you sinisterly glare at each other.

"Ladies, why all these quarrels? We already know who Y/N will end up with."

"And who is it, Festus?"

"Me." You shake your head at that, amused. However, Coryo, standing next to you, doesn't share your humor. He pulls you slightly closer to him, giving you a fleeting glance before focusing on Festus.

"For now, she's not on your shoulder, Creed."

"Enjoy it while you can, Snow. We'll see how things go when we enrol in university." You see Coriolanus tighten his jaw at his remark. You squeeze his arm slightly tighter, making him shift his gaze to you. You smile as he relaxes slightly under your attention.

"You made it to the graduation, Festus. You shouldn't set higher expectations for yourself than that." Sejan's voice echoes behind you. You snorted in amusement and turned around in Coryo's embrace; somehow you managed to get out of them enough to wrap your arms around your friend. "Y/N. You look as beautiful as always. Arachne, who are you trying to fool with this white outfit?" You hide your face behind Coryo's shoulder, trying to hold back a burst of laughter.

You feel Sejanus wrapping his arm around you. Now, you are held by your two friends, and the one with the lighter hair is definitely unhappy about having to share you with Plinth, but you are not able to notice it since the reaping is finally starting.

A murmur of women's whispers echoed throughout the room as a very handsome man emerged from the crowd. You leaned forward slightly, taking a closer look at the tall, athletic, and chiselled man with tanned skin and bronze hair.

With just one look into his stunning sea-green eyes and after seeing the huge, charming smile he sent for the cameras, you knew that whoever got this man was going to be the winner. Because no tribute ever made as much money from sponsors as a sinfully hot man usually did.

And this one was a special sight for the eyes. The reaction of most of the female part of the room and the jealous and furious looks of the men at the reaction of their other halves confirmed your suspicions.

"This boy from 4 belongs to Miss Y/N Y/L/N."

You licked your lips, smiling wolfishly, and watched your tribute on the screen. You were so lucky.

"You damn lucky dog." Persephone whispers in your ear and slaps your shoulder playfully. You give her a half-smile and shrug as the cameramen spend a little more time showing your tribute.

"What can I say... maybe I'll only attract hot men from now on? I hope his muscles aren't just for good looks, because that would be a shame." She shakes her head at your words, holding back a laugh. You smile and involuntarily glance at Coriolanus.

He immediately looks away from you. His jaw is set, and his leg bounces slightly. Anyone else would think he was relaxed and calm. But you knew him too well to assume that.

He was already nervous the moment Clem took your seat, and you were forced to sit in the second row, away from him. Coriolanus doesn't like it. He would rather hold your hand, feel the warmth of your body close to yours, and smell the faint scent of your perfume than sneak glances over his shoulder to keep an eye on you.

Sometimes he knows he can be painfully obvious, but he thanks fate for at least being kind enough to keep you unaware of his feelings for you. He would have you. Just not yet. First, his tribute had to win the damn Hunger Games so he could win Plinth's prize. Then he could make his move without fear of you discovering his family's financial situation. Finally, snow lands on top. And he spent many sleepless nights imagining that he would land on top of you.

You catch his gaze, but you don't have time to analyse his attitude. After a while, Lucy Gray appears on the screen, and you see that your handsome guy will have some competition for the Capitol's favour.

And the possible competition with your best friend makes you feel very uncomfortable. So much so that you don't notice the hateful glare Coriolanus shot at your tribute as the operators once again showed off the likenesses of this year's tributes.

Finnick Odair. A new obstacle in his plan that he had to eliminate. And not just to win the Hunger Games...

You haven't spoken to Coryo since then. Which was an extremely strange phenomenon because you were usually attached to each other at the hip.

Although you had seen him briefly during classes and now, when most of the mentors had gathered around the cage at the zoo to find their tributes and give them something to eat or drink, he didn't even spare you a second glance as he was fully focused on Lucy Gray.

Something was wrong with him.

Especially after his little stunt at the train station and his conversation with Dr. Gaul. Because of which, now (and mainly because of Sejanus' statement), you stand nervously near the bars, looking for your tribute.

And you couldn't help but wonder what exactly the Hunger Games were for. The more you thought about it, the more you started to side with Sejanus.

The First Rebellion may have done you great harm, but was it any wonder that the people of the district rebelled? After all, if any of you were born outside the Capitol, you would probably do what they did. So what was the point of murdering 23 of the young unfortunates who had been singled out for slaughter?

“You seem lost.” A voice next to you pulls you from your thoughts. You turn around, seeing your tribute leaning against the bars and watching you carefully. If he was hot on TV, he looked gorgeous in real life. His cheekbones and jaws look like they had been carved with chisels by the best of the artists. And his eyes... you wonder how such men could be born and live in any district. "Unless you're looking for something. Or someone, if I may boldly assume."

"Y/N Y/L/N. Your mentor." You say, reaching your hand out towards him through the bars. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. You can't help but notice how soft his lips are against your skin. You blush slightly, and you can almost feel Flickerman's eyes and cameras behind you.

"I figured it out. Fate must be a little kind to me after all. Giving me the most beautiful of mentors as my guardian angel."

"You'll be able to say that when you win the Hunger Games." You reply, taking your hand from his and pulling food and drink out of your bag for him.

"When?" He asks, taking the cookie from you and immediately biting into it. That view is squeezing you with sadness, seeing how hungry he is. Despite everything, he still carries himself with grace and is extremely charming. You hope that the cameras will show him often. "How can you be so sure?"

"You are handsome. You attract women's attention. If you maintain that charming attitude of yours, you will probably earn quite a lot of money with those pretty eyes and smile. At least enough to not die of hunger or dehydration in the arena." You reply, searching for something else in your bag.

"Under different circumstances, I would be grateful for so many compliments, angel." You look up, meeting his gaze. And something inside you tells you that, in fact, if the circumstances were different, you would be talking about something completely different right now... or doing something much more enjoyable.

"When you win, who knows? Once a tribute stayed in the Capitol after winning." You say, handing him your cousin's old white sweater that he found in the closet.

"Sorry, honey, but I doubt I'd want to stay in the Capitol. Even for such a nice view." He says this, unabashedly taking off the slightly torn and dirty shirt he was wearing.

He soaks it in the water you gave him and rinses himself off, putting on a show for the entire Capitol audience to watch thanks to the cameras trained on him and the people in the zoo. You lick your lips, trying not to openly stare at the muscles on his chest and act rude (or, in this case, like a horny teenager).

"You're behind bars." You clear your throat, reminding him that there are probably no good views from the cage. You took the courage to look him in the eyes again only after he got dressed.

"And I look at a beautiful girl, what more could I want?"

You laugh loudly and honestly at this. He joins you, and the other mentors and the rest of the tributes look at you like you're crazy. You're too busy looking at the handsome man in front of you to notice Coryo giving him a dagger glare and clenching her fists in anger.

But Lucy Gray does it.

And she perfectly recognises jealousy in the eyes of others. Especially pure anger and the beginnings of forming a plan for revenge. After all, that's how she ended up here.

The day before reaping, Mayfair Lipp had a similar look in her eyes.

Which makes her come to the conclusion that maybe her mentor isn't as good a person as she initially assumed.

"Excuse me for a moment." Snow mutters to her as he walks towards the two of you, leaving her to the children who came to look at her dress.

You and Finnick chat casually about things completely unrelated to Games. Coriolanus notices that the boy from the district reached through the bars for your hand, showing you different lines on it, probably doing some trick or foretelling stupid things.

But what added fuel to Snow's anger was the fact that, in addition to the district's underdog daring to touch you, he also made your face blush. Something Coriolanus has never managed to do.

"Y/N." He says, interrupting the conversation between the two of you. Seeing that he is watching you, you move away from the boy, calming down his anger a little. "We have to get back to the Academy. We have another class soon."

"Oh. Yes." you say, the disappointment is very audible in your voice, which makes him even more angry and jealous.

Why on earth would this piece of trash from the district deserve your attention, or maybe even affection, when Coriolanus was standing right next to you?

"I'll be back again. If you need anything, I'll get it for you." You say, giving a soft smile to your tribute. Coryo almost growls in anger, knowing full well that this worm doesn't deserve your kindness.

"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry too much." He replies with his charming smirk, making Coryo want to impale his head through the metal wires of his cage.

He wraps his hand around your waist and catches your gaze as he nods towards the exit of the zoo. Taking advantage of your moment of distraction as you watch Arachne torment her tribute, Coriolanus gives your tribute a cold look and squeezes your waist a little tighter. Odair looks at him impassively, but the slight tightening of his jaw tells Snow that the boy got the hint.

No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to touch you like Coryo was doing right now.

Coryo shouldn't be concerned about a boy from the district, especially one who competed in the Hunger Games, but he couldn't just let that bastard flirt with HIS girl.

Your terrified gasp brings him out of his thoughts. He automatically places his hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and looking around for whatever scared you. And she sees Arachne's tribute grab her by the neck and pull her towards her, holding a broken bottle in her other hand.

He feels you try to break free from his grip, but instead of letting you go and running towards Arachne and her tribute, he spins you around and presses your face into his chest just as Arachne's neck pierces the glass of the bottle.

He feels you tremble in his arms, hearing the screams and shots of the Peacekeepers, who open fire too late and kill the crazy girl from the district.

"You're safe. Nothing will happen to you. Not with me." He whispers to you as he feels your tears soak his shirt, and he falls even more in love with you, seeing you cry even for a bitch like Arachne.

He places a kiss on the top of your head and leads you out of the zoo and to your car. He glances briefly at Lucy Gray to make sure they didn't shoot her by accident. He angrily accepts that your tribute is also unharmed.

He feels a little better, though, when he sees how your tribute shoots a jealous, angry glare at him, holding you close to his chest. And Coriolanus can't help but wink arrogantly at him.

"Focus." You tell the tribute in front of you as you discuss plans to build the Arena with him. Finnick, however, prefers to play with the bracelet on your wrist.

"Rose quartz. You know you don't get things like that from just anyone?" He asks, examining the stone. You remove your wrist from his grasp and raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

"My friend gave me this."

"That creepy blonde? Adorable. If he took his eyes off you for more than 5 seconds."

You roll your eyes at him and turn your gaze away from him to glance at Coryo. He's talking to, or rather listening to, Lucy Gray as he stares blankly at the pen and paper in front of him. He senses your gaze and turns around. You give him a soft smile, and he nods at you and goes back to listening to his tribute.

"Coryo doesn't like being alone among people he doesn't trust or know. And after yesterday, he's… more caring. It's natural."

"And does this Coryo of yours often give you old bracelets with a stone symbolising love?" You frown, examining the bracelet he gave you for your 18th birthday.

"It belonged to his mother. He probably thought it was pretty and that's why he gave it to me. It does not mean anything." You explain to him, at which he just shakes his head in disbelief, apparently not trusting in the good intentions of your friend. You want to go back to discussing your arena survival plan with him, but he won't let you say a word.

"Hmm... if I hadn't been chosen in the reaping and we had met under different circumstances, and if I were rich, I would have given you a necklace with pearls and pieces of angelite."

"Why?" You ask curiously, hoping that once he says what he wants, you two will go back to discussing plans. But you wonder how the hell he knows the meaning of the stones.

"Pearls are a symbol of wisdom, calmness, integrity, and serenity. They also remind me of the ocean. How old fishermen told us stories about beautiful sirens who attracted them by singing."

"Like Lucy Gray?" You ask with a smirk, thinking he might like the female tribute.

"I was thinking of another beauty." He says his fingertips are brushing against yours as much as the cuffs on his wrists would allow.

You blush when he flirts with you. You can't say that it bothers you or that you are indifferent. After all, he was very handsome. You don't see Coryo frown, staring daggers at the place where your hands lightly brush against each other.

"What about angelite? Why it?"

"It's a kind of peaceful crystal. Some believe that it helps to bring a guardian angel closer to you. After being chosen in the reaping... I wasn't quite at peace. And then I looked at you, and somehow..." He pauses, staring at your hands. You grab his hands tight, making his sea-green eyes look back into yours in surprise at your sudden gesture.

"I promise I will do everything in my power to make you survive this. You don't have to trust me, but trust in this."

"Because you want the prize?" He asks suspiciously, and you shake your head with a slight chuckle. You're not surprised that he's distrustful. After all, most mentors had this in mind. The prize. Not a human life that was in their hands.

"Because I can't stand the thought of someone like you dying in the arena." You admit it. You unconsciously lean into each other as you stroke your fingers over the back of his hand, drawing little patterns on it.

"Someone like me? Underdog from the district?"

"A handsome man with a good heart. Do not look at me like this. I saw you sharing water and food with that sick little girl—Dill and the other one... Wovey I think? You are a good man, Finncik Odair." You say with confidence.

His eyes light up for a moment, and for the first time, you see his real, unforced, warm smile. He didn't play the charming boy. Not this time.

"I guess that makes two of us, angel. I saw someone giving her medicine last night and extra food. I doubt it was their mentors."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." You both laugh at your answer. And somehow you can't help but blush—the flutter in your stomach that's caused by the way he looks at you and that damn beautiful, genuine smile—that's nothing compared to his charming façade.

Someone's burning gaze focused on you, which you feel on your temple, makes you let go of the tribute's hand, embarrassed. You look around discreetly, noticing Coryo's cold gaze that makes you shiver. He's never looked at you like that... at least not in your direction. It takes you a few seconds to realise that his gaze isn't on you at all, but on the man sitting across from you.

"Can you get me a trident? And some nets?"

"Trident?" You ask distractedly, making a note of his request anyway.

"To the arena. To put on a show and collect more donations." You nod, your thoughts fully returning to Finnick. You tell yourself that you're making something up. After all, Coryo is just your friend.

"I'll see what I can do. You also need to think about what you will do on tomorrow's TV appearance." You remind him, writing down in your notebook the things you should provide him with before he goes on air. Maybe a suit? You're sure he'd look drop-dead handsome in it on stage.

"I have already got some idea. You'll probably like it." He replies with an arrogant smirk, causing you to giggle, which, for some strange reason, you're unable to hold back. His smirk widens.

"Y/N. Can I take you away for a moment?" Coryo's voice and the fact that he's right behind you surprise you. You didn't notice him sneaking up until he spoke. You wonder how many times he has managed to do this without your knowledge.

"Go, angel. I'll see you tomorrow at the arena." Finnick says, giving you another of his trademark smirks. You nod to him and accept Coryo's hand as he helps you up. He takes your bag from you, and you both walk out.

You go with him as his emotional support to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He tells you enthusiastically about his new ideas for the Hunger Games and how the woman was interested in them, but you only half-listen, your thoughts still with Finnick. And Coriolanus doesn't like it that you so brazenly ignore what he says.

"You two are rather close." He says, getting your attention. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, not understanding who he was talking about. "You and your tribute."

"We are. It's my job to take care of him."

"You do it rather willingly and with a smile on your face." He remarks with a strange tone of voice. You stop and frown at him, not understanding what his problem is.

"Are you suggesting something?"

"No. No. Not at all. I'm just warning you. People are talking."

"They always talk." You snap at him, furious that he's playing that card. He lectures you as if you were a little child and did something wrong. Besides, who cared? You could flirt with anyone you wanted.

"Y/N. He's just a district boy. I don't want your reputation to suffer just because… you see him as a human being."

"Are you serious? He IS a human being. Like each one of them." You say, angry at him for even saying such a thing.

"You sound like Sejanus." He says it coldly, giving you an unreadable look. You don't know what he's thinking, but you know by the way his jaw is set and his hand is nervously playing with the strap of his bag that it's not good. And you wonder. Because Sejan is your friend after all. And he was also a district boy.

"Maybe because he's right." You respond to his remark by crossing your arms and staring at him defiantly, tilting your chin slightly upward.

"Are you really going to let some district scumbag ruin your career and future? Everything you've worked for so far? They hate us, Y/N. Each one of them. Behind that charming smile of his, there is a devil who gossips about you and laughs at your naivety behind your back."

"They are not monsters, Coriolanus."

The use of his full name makes him flinch. You see it and immediately regret not using his diminutive, but that's okay. You were incredibly frustrated and angry that he thought the way Dr. Gaul and the rest of the rich snobs of Panem did. That he didn't see these people as... people. People like you were.

"They killed my father, and because of the rebellion 10 years ago, my mother and sister, whom I never got to know, are dead, and they might have been alive if those district rats hadn't turned the Capitol into a battlefield. You, Tigris, and my grandmother are all I have left. And I won't let anything happen to you or anyone take you away from me." He bursts out, keeping his voice cool, but you can clearly see the storm of emotions in his icy eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Coryo. The rebellion is over. We are safe. But they are not." You decide to back out of the argument with him.

"They don't deserve to be safe. Not after what they did to us, petal."

You don't say anything at his words. You just sigh and go to hug him.

He relaxes a little in your arms, wrapping himself around you just as tightly as you wrap around him. You are enveloped in his warmth and the delicate scent wafting from the rose he had pinned to his red jacket.

You know how Coryo suffered and how he sought an outlet for his pain. And you can't be surprised that he blamed the people of the district for his family's fate. That he hated them... but you didn't know how deep that hatred had grown inside him.

And how much it had grown the moment he found out from Lucy Gray that you had promised to make sure Odair won.

When he found out you chose that district boy above him in The Hunger Games, he fully understood what Dr. Gaul wanted him to say when she asked him about the meaning of the games.

Now he had to make sure that HE would become THE VICTOR. And not the underdog from 4 who tried to steal HIS woman.

"I hope I haven't caused you any trouble?" Finnick asks with that smile of his that makes you weak in the knees as you both walk around the arena.

You blush slightly, remembering last night.

"Here. Put this somewhere and change it when we get back from the arena. Then you two will be on TV." You tell him, handing him a bag of clothes through the bars. It is midnight. You shouldn't be here, and you might as well have given it to him in the morning, but... something pulled you to him. "If you are as charming as usual, you will win the hearts of the audience." You say, not knowing that he only cares about ONE heart.

"You're too good, angel. But I have something for you too." he says that and hands you a small bundle. You frown at him.

"I… I shouldn't…" You say, surprised, but he pushes the bundle into your hands anyway.

You look at him in a daze for a moment and unwrap the fabric. You gasp when you see the necklace. It is an ordinary black leather strap with a silver pendant with a fish that swallows its tail, thus creating a circle shape. There was a tiny pearl inside.

"If I were a rich man, I would give you something else... as a souvenir. But I'm not... but I really wanted for you to have something that will remind you of me. Please say something, or I might start talking nonsense that we'll both regret later and..."

You silence him by leaning in and kissing him through the bars. It's a gentle kiss, as tender as the tiny passage between the bars allows, but somehow he manages to grab your hand and cup your cheek carefully, brushing your skin with his thumb.

You feel tears welling up as you think about what it might have been like in another life, where there were no divisions into better and worse districts and the Hunger Games would never have existed... but this small moment stolen in the night between you two will have to be enough. That gentle brushing of your lips.

"No. Not at all. Do you already know what you're going to do on TV?" You ask, changing the subject, trying to keep from blushing as the two of you walk around the arena while you make mental notes of the best places to escape.

"Yes. I will recite a poem. Or, rather, a song. I will not compete with our dear Lucy Gray, and I will not sing. Want to hear?"

"Sure." You reply with a shrug, completely unprepared for what he had in store.

He clears his throat. He catches your eye and begins with a tone of voice so velvety and pleasant to the ear that it's impossible for you to perceive anything other than him. And certainly not the way your blonde friend was staring daggers at you with clenched fists, ignoring the scared look Lucy Gray was throwing his way.

"We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet."

You shiver as he finishes. He was only a small step away from you as he inched closer with each line he spoke, never taking his eyes off you. You are speechless. All you can do is look him in the eyes, watching as he gently brushes away your hair from your eyes.

"It's... it's beautiful. Did you write it?" You ask, snapping out of your daze.

"No. No, I don't. I believe this is 'My tears richochet' by Taylor Swift."

"Taylor Swift?" You repeat it stupidly, swallowing and trying to calm your rapidly beating heart that aches with the desire to kiss him. You know you can't. Not in the light of day. Never in plain sight. And it hurt you that you wanted a man who could never be yours.

"In another life, I would be a London boy." You laugh with him about it. Suddenly he looks around seriously, and when he sees that Coriolanus is the only one watching you, he takes a step towards you and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You're... I didn't expect anyone in the Capitol to have a heart. And certainly not as pure as yours, my sweet angel."

You shiver, unable to move away from him.

He leans down and steals you a quick but more passionate kiss than the first you two had shared under the cover of the night. His hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head as he opens your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moan. Common sense screams at you to step away, but you can't. You cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you, stealing another moment with him as he pushes you against a pillar, hiding you from anyone's view.

Before anyone can notice that you two have disappaired, there's a loud bang in the arena. You scream as you feel a warm gust of air make you fall onto your back. The combined scream of both Coryo and Finnick's calling your name and the pounding of your head is the last thing you hear and feel before you pass out.

Consciousness comes back to you very slowly. At first, you think you're dead, but the ringing in your ears and headache wouldn't be symptoms of a dead person on the other side.

That's why you open your eyes slowly and very reluctantly.

You hiss as the light from the hospital lamp hits your eyes. You cover them with your hand when suddenly you feel another one on yours.

"Everything's fine, petal. You are safe with me. Move slowly, take your time."

"Coryo?" You ask, pushing both your and his hands away from your eyes as you narrow them at him. You sigh with relief and hug the blonde, who is also in a hospital gown. You managed to notice a few scratches on his face before you cuddled up to him shakily.

"Shh... it's okay, my petal. Your parents were here. They waited through the entire surgery, and when the doctor told them you were stable, they went home to get clothes for you. They should be back here soon. Together with Tgiris and Sejanus."

"Surgery?" You ask in surprise, only now feeling the grip of the bandages on your head.

"They put a few stitches on your head. Fortunately, it wasn't as deep a wound as we thought it was. You scared me. And the others." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms tighter around you... like a snake.

"The arena... Finnick. Is he alive? What happened? Where is Finnick?" You panicked, moving away from him and ignoring his more affectionate than usual gestures. All you can think about is a district boy that you have grown to... to love in these few days when you got a chance to know him.

You don't see the anger rising in Coriolanus's eyes, nor do you recognise his fake tone as he pretends to be concerned. You're more concerned, scared, and distraught that you don't feel the weight of Finnick's necklace around your neck.

"He is dead. I'm sorry for your tribute, my petal." He says, slowly stroking your bare arms.

From the side, it looked like he wanted to comfort you, but he was only doing it because he wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips. Enjoy his reward. As well as that snow lands on top.

"What?" You ask in shock, not feeling his touch at all. Your world stopped. As if it were dying. You don't feel anything. Nothing at all.

"There was an attack of rebels. He didn't survive." He repeats it more emphatically, watching you carefully.

"No... no..." You shake your head, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. Tears that you don't even try to hold back. Just as your whole body trembles.

"It's not your fault, honey. You did an excellent job as a mentor. It could have happened to anyone."

"You do not understand! This isn't about stupid games! This is about him! About human life! How can you be so selfish and myopic?!”

You shout angrily, slapping your hands against his chest. Your tears are blurring any vision; you're still weak from the surgery, so when you get tired, he pulls you into his arms and presses your head to his chest, rubbing your back as you cry into him.

Into a man who took the opportunity to get rid of the inconvenience of your tribute. Along with the necklace he gave you. Coriolanus was furious when he saw it on your neck as he carried you out after pushing Odair right into the spot where, a second later, a large piece of debris fell from the ceiling.

Once again, Coriolanus' perceptiveness worked to his advantage.

And now you were his. Only his. He made sure there were no traces of Finnick Odair left. After all, his First Lady couldn't be sullied by a district boy.

"Don't cry over him. We are all we need anyway, my little petal." He whispers against your skin as he kisses away your tears.

You're too busy mourning your tribute and too drugged to do anything. So he uses this to his advantage and fucks your face with kisses before finally leaning in to taste your lips.

He moans into your mouth, not caring about the slightly salty taste of your tears, and gently wraps his hand around your neck. You mumble something into his mouth, pressing your hand against his chest to push him away.

But he doesn't give up. He sits you on his lap and places kisses on your neck. You gasp, clinging to him. He rests his forehead against yours and kisses you once again. He lifts your hands and makes you tangle them in his hair. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in until your chests are pressed together.

He ignores Lucy Gray's singing echoing through the private room in the hospital your parents bought for you to get better and holds you close to his chest, pressing tender kisses to your cheeks, lips, nose, forehead, and neck—everywhere his greedy, eager mouth can reach.

You can't move. Because of the drugs they drugged you with, so you can't feel pain, or because you don't want to move, you don't know yet. In some strange way, the feeling of closeness comforts you, and your stupid brain and heart try to trick you into thinking it's right. After all, Coryo saved you, and he always saved you. He was always there for you. Always close to you. Unconsciously, you start kissing him back. He moans contentedly, rubbing himself against you.

He refrains from doing anything more and pushes you off of him, keeping your head on his shoulder and his arms around you as he places small kisses on your temple and tenderly, occasionally reaching up to kiss your lips as the painkiller drip he unscrews a little makes you melt and surrender completely to him.

He holds you as you fall asleep in his arms, thinking about how he can make sure his songbird wins. He reduced her competition anyway by hastening Odair's death, but he must be sure that he wins Plinth's prize so he can finally claim you fully for himself. He wouldn't endure another district boy near you.

Coriolanus knew that hope was dangerous. Love was fatal and destructive if you didn't control the one you cared for. And jealousy... jealousy brought out people's primal, animal instincts.

Just like the Hunger Games.

He looks at your sleeping, peaceful form, and he presses a kiss on your lips. He smiles, seeing how cuddled up to him you were and how you were in need of his warmth and touch, of the security he provided and will always provide for you. You were worth every sin. His petal. His little angel. His future First Lady and mother of his children. He will adore you. You'd forget about this district underdog once he won; he was sure of it.

After all, he was the only victor Panem could have.

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7 Ways Autistic People Might Experience Gaslighting

Neurodivergent_lou

#autism #actually autistic #gaslighting #how ND people experience gaslighting #mental helath #manipulation #signs of gaslighting #neurodivergence #neurodiversity #actually neurodivergent #feel free to share/reblog #Neurodivergent_lou (Facebook)