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jessybarnes · 8 months

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Bunker Nights

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Tags: Angst, mentions of past physical and emotional abuse, nightmares, panic attacks, eventual fluffy smut, and protective!Dean

Betas: @winecatsandpizza

Word Count: 4,667

Fic Aesthetic: Yours Truly

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this one. I hope you enjoy :)

One year.

It had been exactly one year since you ended it with Tyler and you still suffered from the aftershocks of the abuse. Even though your body and mind weren't subject to his fists or harsh words, you still felt worthless. Every day the memories of the torture you went through filled your mind.

The moment you met Sam and Dean in the shitty hole-in-the-wall bar, your personalities clicked. You needed a distraction and somewhere to live, and they needed help in their line of work. So when they offered to let you stay and help them hunt you agreed without hesitation.

Finally, things seemed to be looking up for you, or so you thought. Two weeks after moving into the Bunker, the nightmares started.

These weren't just any run-of-the-mill bad dreams either. No, in these dreams, Tyler was torturing and trying to kill you. The vividness left you screaming and crying in your sleep almost nightly. The nightmares plagued your mind every time you went to sleep.

Neither of the brothers said anything to you about it, so you tried to pretend everything was fine. It was one of the hardest things you've had to do if you were being honest with yourself. The physical training alone sometimes brought on a panic attack. Even though you knew Sam and Dean weren't trying to harm you, your mind was starting to become your biggest enemy.

You could tell they wanted to ask you about it, but they also knew that you weren’t one to talk about your past. The only thing you told them was that you and Tyler had a rough breakup. The thought made you laugh. Calling it a rough breakup was putting it very mildly.

The day before your first hunt went surprisingly well. You went the entire day without any panic attacks or a questioning glance from either of the Winchesters. Even though you couldn’t remember the last time you slept, it didn’t stop you from humming in the kitchen while you cooked everyone dinner. Not to mention, the copious amounts of makeup you used to make yourself look less like a zombie. You made a mental note to get some more of the coverup you hid your dark circles with.

Sam rounded the corner as you filled everyone’s plates, one of his eyebrows rising quizzically.

“You’re extra happy tonight, Y/N.”

You shrugged and continued to hum as Dean joined you both at the table.

“Yeah, what’s gotten into you? You win the lotto or somethin’?”

You gave them both your signature eyeroll and took a pull of your beer.

“What? I can’t be in a good mood now?”

Sam cleared his throat and looked over at his brother before staring back at you, concern evident in his eyes.

“Of course you can, Y/N. Dean and I … well, we’ve noticed that you’ve been having nightmares.”

Your eyes narrowed to thin slits. If this was their attempt to keep you from going on tomorrow’s hunt, then they had better think again.

“I’m. Fine."

You enunciated your words, making sure to look at both of them sternly. Sam scoffed and set his drink down.

“I don’t call it fine when you wake up almost every night screaming, Y/N”

All you wanted was one day, one day where you could just forget about the grim night that awaited you.

“They’re just dreams, and I’m going tomorrow no matter what. I’ve been training for this day for months, and a stupid nightmare isn’t going to bench me.”

The hostility in your voice caught them off guard, and you suddenly weren’t hungry anymore. You pushed the contents of your plate around with your fork, the awkward silence becoming more deafening by the second. Dean was the first to break it, his soothing tone of voice practically making you sick to your stomach. You knew they wanted you to stay home, and it pissed you off even more that your brain somewhat agreed with them.

“Look, Y/N, we just wa-”

You slammed your fists on the table cutting him off mid-sentence.

“ENOUGH! I’m not here to be your charity case! I came here to hunt, not for you to feel sorry for me!”

Before either of them could say anything you had stormed down the hallway to your room. Slamming the door for good measure, you finally let yourself unleash the angry tears you’d held back. You knew they were only trying to help, but being pitied didn’t sit with you well. You’d grown accustomed to it after being with Tyler for so many years, and it made you feel like everyone was hypersensitive to your feelings.

Once the tears stopped, you were left exhausted and feeling numb. Falling asleep right after an outburst would definitely bring on a nightmare, so you opted for a long hot shower instead. The moment the water cascaded over your skin you felt the stiffness in your muscles leave your body. You spent extra time massaging your scalp and even used your lavender soothing body wash to help calm your nerves.

Finally, in your pajamas, you slid beneath your covers and sighed deeply. Couldn’t you just have one day where you didn’t have someone worrying about you? Deciding not to dwell on it any longer, you turned the bedside light off and let yourself fall asleep.

Fear, raw fear coursed through your body as you ran. You’d just told Tyler you wanted to see other people and he’d tried to force himself on you so you’d stay. He pinned you against the wall, his breath reeked of stale beer as he kissed down your neck. The feeling of his lips made you shiver with disgust. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you raised your knee hard and fast hitting him right where it counted.

Tyler yelled in pain as you broke free, running as fast as you could to the door.

“Ow, FUCK! God Dammit, Y/N! Come back here you fucking bitch!”

Cold air hit your face as you ran barefoot into the woods behind your home. Branches hit your exposed skin leaving little cuts in their wake. You could hear Tyler shouting after you as you found refuge behind a big tree trunk. Your chest heaved and you shivered as you tried to stay still and quiet.

Tyler’s footfalls and yelling became louder by the second, and you were sure he could hear the thundering of your heart. Just as you thought you were in the clear, strong arms boxed you in, the bark of the tree cut into your back as Tyler stared menacingly down at you.

“There you are… you pathetic little slut. You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N. You should have just come home like the good little bitch you are and kept that pretty, little mouth shut.”

His fingers grazed your cheek briefly before his mouth was on your own, the taste of his tongue made you almost vomit.

“Now, we could have done it back at the house, but seeing as how you made a scene, I think I’ll just take you right here.”

You tried to push, shove, kick, anything to get him off you, but it was of no use. He began to forcefully rid you of your clothes, and all you could do was scream. Scream for anyone to help you.

“Stop! Please, Tyler!”

Sobs racked your body as he pawed roughly at your skin. You could feel him now, shaking you, calling your name.

“No! Just leave me alone!”

You bolted upright in your bed, a cool sheen of sweat covered your skin and the sheets. Dean knelt in front of you, concern etched in his features.

“Y/N! It’s okay! It’s me… it’s Dean.”

You blinked a few times before covering your face with your hands, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks.

“D-Dean… I’m… I’m s-sorry for waking you up. I… It was just another d-dream.”

You tried to sound confident between your sobs, but you knew he wouldn’t buy it. Hell, even you knew how pathetic you sounded. Ever so slowly Dean sat on the foot of your bed, his hand coming to rest gently on your knee. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was looking at you with worry in his eyes.

“C’mon now, Y/N. Don’t bullshit me. You and I both know that this is past the point of being 'just dreams'. I want to help you, but you’re going to have to work with me here.”

Using the back of your hands to wipe the loose tears away, you finally got the courage to look at him. His eyes were soft, kind even. The lopsided smile he gave you was the moment you finally let your walls down. Dean was here to help you, not judge you.

“O-Okay… so umm… what do we do now? How do I stop dreaming of these… these horrible things?”

Dean started to move his thumb across your kneecap. In any other situation you’d be in a fit of laughter, but at a time like this, it was soothing.

“Do you trust me?”

Those four words made you swallow thickly. Trust wasn’t something you took lightly, and Dean knew that. Sam understood this too, but Dean was different. He could count on one hand the people he had full trust in.

“Yes, of course, I trust you, Dean. Believe me, I want these nightmares to stop just as much as you do if not more.”

He stood and held his hand out to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you took it anyway and let him lead you to his room. The Bunker was eerily quiet at night, but you knew you were safe. You stood at the threshold, watching him as he padded across the floor to his bed. Your cheeks flushed as he rid himself of his t-shirt, leaving him only in his low-hanging grey sweats. You never let yourself think about Sam or Dean this way before, but you weren’t a prude. Every woman who came in contact with them knew how attractive they were.

Dean cleared his throat bringing you back to reality.

“You comin’ sweetheart? I don’t bite...much.”

He winked, and you knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but who were you kidding? You couldn’t share a bed with Dean. That would make things weird, and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. Nightmares or not, you weren’t going to jeopardize your friendship.

“Dean...I-I don’t think I can do this… I’m pretty worn out from crying so let’s just say we forget about this night and I’ll go back to my own bed… I’m sorry for being a burden. I’ll just.. I’m gonna go…”

You turned to leave, but not before Dean caught your arm.

“Whoa whoa slow down, Y/N. What’s wrong? Is it because I took my shirt off? ‘Cause I can put it back on. I’m just used to sleeping without it on is all.”

You sighed and shook your head.

“No, it-It’s not that. I just… I don’t want this to ruin our friendship ya know? I don’t want things to get weird or anything.”

Dean shook his head and chuckled.

“So, don’t let it get weird.”

His look went back to firm before he continued.

“Y/N, be honest with me. How long has it been since you slept, and I mean really slept?”

Your eyes went to your feet, your toe rubbing across a rough spot on the old floor.

“I umm… I haven’t slept in four days…”

A flash of concern laced his features as he pulled you back into his room.

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

He pulled back his covers and got under them before patting the other side of the mattress invitingly.

“Come here, Y/N. You need sleep just as much as I do. I promise I won’t try anything with you. I mean, I’m a cuddler so, I might do that, but nothing else, I swear.”

You lowered your head in defeat and crossed the room before climbing into bed next to him. He carefully wrapped his arm around your waist, feeling you tense a little, before relaxing. Neither of you talked, but there really wasn’t any need to. You already felt more at ease in Dean’s arms. The smell of his shampoo and pheromones calmed you. Mere minutes later, his breathing evened out, and his light snoring filled your ears. Moments later, you were asleep.

It became a routine that none of you spoke about. Every night, you would get ready for bed in your room and slip into Dean’s, silently climbing into bed beside him. True to his word, he was a cuddler but instead of the apprehension you’d expected at his touch, you only felt warmth and safety.

He was never inappropriate either. His hands stayed firmly in the safe zones, holding you around your middle if you decided that spooning was the position for you; his lower half was always carefully angled away when you woke up. If you slept curled into his side, he kept his hand on your shoulder or waist, never anywhere else.

The nightmares weren’t dispelled so easily. But being with Dean, they were normally stopped before they were over - he was a naturally light sleeper and the slightest twitch in your slumber had him waking you with gentle reassuring murmurs.

It was three weeks before your first night with no memories assaulting you. You woke with your face against Dean’s bare chest - you’d fallen asleep there the night before. His skin was warm under your cheek and you sighed, closing your eyes and allowing the haze of sleep to keep you still for a little longer.

“You slept well,” he muttered without opening his eyes and you smiled.

“No nightmares,” you whispered.

“Good.” Dean yawned, stretching his arms up. “I think I slept pretty well too.”

The covers slipped down with his movement and you couldn’t help it; your eyes went south to the straining erection that was fighting against the elastic of his pajama pants.

His hand wasn’t fast enough to snatch the covers back up and when you raised your head to look at him, his face was beet red.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “s’morning and everything… y’know.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, patting his chest.

“It’s not,” Dean grunted, clutching the covers over his lap, “you didn’t want this to get weird.”

“You having a…” you swallowed, unsure how to phrase it, “an erection, isn’t weird. It’s perfectly natural.” With a shrug, you slid your eyes away from his, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’d say it’s a compliment.”

He blinked, processing what you’d said before his mouth set in a thin smile. “Can’t help what happens when I sleep next to a beautiful woman.”

You were sure your face was about to burst into flames and you giggled. “Now you’re making it weird.”

Dean smirked - not one of those sarcastic expressions, more playful, devilish. The way you expected he’d look at a woman he wanted to -

“Besides,” you added hurriedly, shifting a little way away from him, “I’m not your type.”

“Who says?” he challenged and you pulled back, frowning.

Dean moved, pushing himself up with his arm. “You say you don’t wanna ruin our friendship but I can’t keep spending the night with you warm next to me and pretending I’m not craving you in every way possible.”

His declaration left you speechless - what were you supposed to even say to that?

Thank you?

Dean chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered and you were struck by the thought that no man should ever look that pretty when asking that question. With scruffy bed hair and sleep lines on his face, Dean managed to look like he’d fallen out of a GQ photoshoot.

Your reply, when you finally forced it out, was barely a squeak.

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours but you couldn’t relax. Your entire body was stiff with trepidation; you felt hot and cold all at once and it took only seconds for Dean to notice your tense posture.

Breaking away, he cupped your cheek, dragging his thumb down to rest on your chin, making your eyes meet his.

“Talk to me,” he urged softly.

The temptation to shut off, to not tell him anything, warred with the need to spill your illogical shame for what had happened. You knew Dean would never blame you but seeing the pity in his eyes would be unbearable.

But he deserved to know what he’d been protecting you from. At least, in part.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve,” you took a shuddering breath, dropping your chin away from his hand, “since I’ve been with anyone. And the last time wasn’t…” Your eyes closed and you tried to forget the rough touch on your skin.

Dean’s hand moved, resting on your hip and the warmth of his touch seeped into you, forcing you to look at him again, letting his gentle touch replace the horror from before.

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you,” he coaxed, smiling softly. “I could never hurt you.”

What you feared most was nowhere to be found in his face. His sincere green gaze focused on you, filled with nothing but lust and affection.

You moved closer, startling him with a chaste kiss, your little moan swept away by his hum of appreciation and when he tugged you closer, you moved with him easily, losing yourself in the warmth of his skin.

Dean didn’t push, letting you set the pace and you were content with kissing, feeling his hands roam your body. You licked into his mouth, breaking only for air; you weren’t paying much attention to the way you pinned him back onto the bed, straddling his lap so you could kiss him and run your hands over his solid chest and stomach.

He laughed, arching when your fingers caught a ticklish spot, which only prompted you to do it again.

“Quit it,” he chuckled, grabbing at your hands but keeping his touch light.

Dragging your right hand to his lips, you sucked in a breath as he kissed each fingertip, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He continued down over the palm of your hand, tracing the throb of your heartbeat to your wrist. By the time his soft lips reached the inside of your elbow, you were practically mush - before he could continue, you used your free hand to cup his face.

“Later,” you promised.

Dean’s eyes sparkled as you rolled your hips, reminding him of the erection straining at his pants. “Fuck,” he groaned, letting his head fall back, “don’t do that.”

“Why?”

The tone of your voice had him narrowing his eyes at you. “Because if you do, I might not be able to help myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

Dean pushed himself up onto one hand, abruptly enough that you squeaked and giggled, smiling when he used the other hand to cup the back of your neck and draw you in for a deep kiss.

“Do you want me as much as I want you, princess?”

You nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise, his nose squished against yours.

“You know you can tell me to stop at any time, right?”

“I know,” you whispered, initiating another kiss, dragging your tongue over his.

Shifting his weight so his back was straight, Dean’s hands landed on your hips, grinding you down harder against his cock. His fingers trailed up underneath the thin tank top you’d worn to bed; he groaned when his thumbs brushed the underside of your bare breasts.

You lifted your arms, letting him pull the top up over your head, giving him full access to your breasts and Dean leaned in, brushing his nose across the top of one.

“You’ve got no idea how beautiful you are,” he murmured and you smiled, folding your hands around the back of his head as he started to worship your tits with his tongue.

His cock was twitching against your core and Dean grunted, pushing one hand underneath the covers to shove his pants down.

“Sorry, it’s getting a little uncomfortable down there,” he joked, resuming his attention to your nipples and you gasped when his teeth grazed one solid peak teasingly.

The sudden desire to feel his skin on yours was a full-body craving; you shifted and pushed at your shorts, managing to drag them down without dislodging him.

The sound Dean made when you were finally perched nude in his lap was only amplified when you pushed him back, using your feet to shove the covers down. His cock was warm and throbbing against your bare slit and you whimpered, grinding against him and he broke away from your breast, groaning loudly.

“Fuck, Y/N -”

“Sssh,” you ordered, sliding down his body until you were straddling his thighs, wrapping one hand around his shaft before you could stop and think about it.

Dean’s chin tilted up and the veins on his neck popped with the strained angle of his neck, a low moan accompanying the bob of his Adam’s apple when you licked the tip of his cock.

He kept his hands at his sides, clenching them in the sheets, giving you all the room you needed. It wasn’t something you had an entirety of experience in but Dean seemed happy enough to let you explore, finding the sensitive spots at the base of his length. When you cupped his balls with your other hand and fondled them gently, Dean emitted a noise of pure lust and warmth swelled in your core in response.

Stroking him slowly, you watched a bead of precum seeping from his slit; the urge to taste it was more than you could ignore. The salty tang was worth the way Dean’s entire body twitched and he looked down at you, tucking his chin into his chest.

“You know there are limits to torture, right?” he muttered, raising an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing to stroke him as he moaned under his breath. “Jeez, Y/N, you’re gonna… fuck…”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” you chided, your gaze fixed on the way his cock fit in your hand. Your fingers didn’t quite touch either side, not until you reached the slightly flared head and you suddenly wanted to know what it felt like to have him buried inside you.

The thought was enough to provoke a sudden rush of wetness between your thighs and Dean groaned as you rutted against him, barely acknowledging your own movement.

A tiny voice in the back of your head stilled your movements, doubt settling in the pit of your belly. Shouldn’t you be frightened of this? After… after him, there hadn’t been anyone and this felt like something that should be shaking you to the core.

But all you could feel was pure adrenaline and desire pumping through your veins; everything was focused on the way Dean felt underneath you, the warm weight of his cock as you stroked him, and the sounds of pleasure he was making.

“Dean,” you whispered, meeting his eyes, “I wanna fuck you.”

He muttered a curse, biting his bottom lip when you released his cock and crawled further up his body. There was no objection - Dean continued to let you set the pace. You lifted yourself, slipping two fingers between your thighs, sinking them into your body.

“Y/N…” Dean muttered, covering your hand with his own, “let me.”

You nodded, letting him take over, whining when he pushed a single digit into you. Just one of his fingers felt bigger than your two, more calloused and filling. He pumped them a few times, smirking when you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, enjoying his slow touch.

All too soon, you grew impatient for more but before Dean could add a second finger, you tugged on his wrist. “Want you,” you pouted, leaning over to kiss away any protest he could make. Lifting your hips, you pinned his hands beside his head, smiling against his lips. “Stay.”

Dean obeyed, groaning when you slipped one hand down to grasp him again, lining his tip up with your soaked entrance. Lowering down onto him, you whined, lifting again when your body struggled to accept the intrusion. With a few more thrusts, you had him halfway inside and his body was shaking with the effort of holding back.

Lifting up once more, you pushed down, taking him to the hilt. The shock of being so full made you yelp and Dean’s hands were on your hips, holding you steady so you could adjust.

“Gah,” you moaned, resting against his chest, “you’re… fuck.”

“Now who has a dirty mouth?” Dean teased and you pulled back, smiling. “Want me to put my hands back?”

You nodded, waiting for him to return his hands to the pillow before sliding your fingers up to lace them with his.

When you started to move, rocking gently on him, Dean closed his eyes, a low rumble in his chest letting you know that it felt good. The way he reacted made you a little bolder and you lifted yourself, letting him withdraw a few inches before taking him to the hilt again.

“Y/N…”

“What?” you asked, worried you’d done something wrong with the way he moaned your name.

His cheeks were a little red when he answered. “I’m close and you haven’t -”

“Oh,” you blinked, ceasing your movements, unsure what to do, “do you want me to stop?”

“God, no,” Dean chuckled. “I just wanna make sure you cum too.” The way he said it, his low throaty voice almost catching on the words, made you shudder and clench around him. “Sit up straight,” he instructed - you obeyed, a little puzzled until you felt how much deeper it let him be.

You moaned, circling your hips as Dean’s jaw clenched. Your lips parted in a little “o” when he responded with a slight thrust, one hand untangling from yours to hover over your mound, his thumb settling just above where his cock was inside you.

“That okay?” he asked and you nodded, squirming needily. Intense pleasure was on the edge of your senses, teasing you with the promise of climax but you craved more. Dean’s thumb traced your clit and a spark made your hips jerk. “That’s it,” he coaxed, “keep moving for me, baby.”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you started to rock, much like how you had started. The throbbing inside you increased with each glide of his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Electricity ran through your veins prompting your head to fall back as you whimpered into orgasm.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” Dean murmured his other hand on your hip now, guiding your rocking motion when you fell over the edge.

It was calmer than any orgasm you’d ever experience but possibly one of the best. Dean’s climax followed yours within seconds and he stopped touching you, letting you fall forward onto his chest, panting heavily.

Although you’d barely moved, you were sweating, exhausted and more sated than you’d ever felt. An overwhelming sense of calm swept through you; even though your legs were shaking with the effort of simply existing, you felt peaceful.

Eventually, Dean had to move, helping you clean up before he slipped back into bed with you. Neither of you spoke as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and drew you back against his chest, letting you curl into his side.

“Get some more sleep,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded, closing your eyes without a reply and letting the last ebbing waves of bliss carry you off.

#j snow writes #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean smut #dean angst #dean fluff #supernatural smut #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff

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maevesheart · 4 months

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tolerate it

CORIOLANUS SNOW X CAPITOL!READER

note: hiiiii… guess i’m back from a brief hiatus… coriolanus snow has done something to me so i must write about it. this is set before the mentorships, reader is from a very prominent capitol family—also, i changed some things around and made felix’s father the president instead of his uncle. // also.. should i write more with this oc (sort of) and corio? i like the dynamic

summary: your relationship with felix ravinstill is anything but satisfying. thus, when you find yourself intoxicated and in a room with the ever-charming coriolanus snow, tensions run high.

wc: 5.4k

tw: alcohol, reader being drunk, cheating… oh! and of course, smut ;))))

The President’s Palace was filled with only the most prestigious and wealthy people that occupied the capitol.

You entered with Felix, your arm, adorned with only the finest gems in all of Panem, was linked tightly through his, as he lead you through the ornate doors into the ballroom.

The two of you had been together for a little over 6 months now, and to say the relationship was running its course was an understatement, to say the least.

You hated him, to put it simply.

He was arrogant, and displayed you like a shining new toy that no one else could touch.

How dare he! You seethed with anger for him. Your mother was the heiress of the Cardew fortune, spanning back decades of successful bankers. Livia, your cousin, was wealthy as well, but when your mother’s inheritance collided with your fathers, there was no comparison.

Your father, Hyades Mars, was the wealthiest man in all of Panem. Serbo Plinth could not even compare.

The Mars fortune could be attributed to both a long history and incredible reputation in the Panem military, and the production of precious metals that the country needed so badly.

Your ancestors had begun Mars Manufacturing, the biggest ore manufacturers in all of Panem. When the rebellion occurred, they moved to gun and bomb production, leading President Ravinstill to forever be in the debt of your family.

After all, Mars bombs had won the war.

It was baffling to you how Felix treated you like a mere object, nothing more.

You were far more intelligent, the most beautiful girl in all of Panem, and the labeled “Panem Princess”. Felix was a fool.

However, for your family’s sake, you must play the part. Or your father would die of embarrassment.

You plastered the sweetest smile onto your lips, and let Felix parade you around the room. You greeted the Cranes and Flickermans, making small talk with them before you spotted your mother and father speaking with your uncle in the center of the room.

Ushering a quick goodbye to the guests, and assuring Felix you’d be right back, you rushed for your family.

“Daddy,” you placed a peck on your fathers cheek as he placed a hand on your back.

“Hello, shining star.” His nickname for you caused your cheeks to redden, the pounds of makeup on your face covering the blush.

The Mars were the brightest stars in the entirety of Panem. And your father would never let you or your siblings forget it.

You greeted your mother, and then your Uncle Heracles, your father’s only sibling.

A quick kiss and hug, and then two of you were deep in conversation. Heracles was always your favorite. He never married, so all his money was spent on you and your siblings.

Beautiful jewelry, bags, clothing, anything you could dream of. He loved you as his own.

You threw a quick glance behind your shoulder, meeting the similar eyes that bore the same color as your own.

Heracles and you parents gently smiled as they watched your face take over with recognition.

“Percy?” You questioned, a beaming smile now on your lips.

You rushed away from your family, and straight into the arms of your elder brother, Perseus Mars.

“I’ve missed you dearly, little star,” he chuckled as you slammed yourself into him.

You hadn’t seen Percy in over a year. He joined the military right when he graduated from the Academy, and quickly climbed the ranks. He now bore the responsibility of Major, touring around the country and serving the capitol.

Every male in your family before him had done his duty in the military, but never rose as quickly as Percy. You were filled with pride.

“Well you look just beautiful, shining star.” Percy compliments you, making you do a little twirl.

He was right, you looked marvelous.

Your mother had a custom ruby red dress made for this occasion. It was strapless, and showed your chest off perfectly. It was a thick yet flowing material, that fell to the floor. A long slit accompanied the left side, leaving little to the imagination.

You paired the gorgeous dress with black heels, and a low updo sat on the nape of your neck. Your makeup was simple and timeless, accentuating your striking eyes and full lips. You couldn’t look more beautiful if you tried.

“How has it been in the districts? I cant imagine it’s been nice,” you ask, leading him to dive into a long speech about how it’s brought him wisdom beyond his years.

“Let’s get a drink, yes?” Percy finishes, linking your arm through his. He leads you to the ornate bar, and the two of you each receive a China glass, filled with shining red liquid.

You bring the concoction to your lips, and swallow down the rich taste of cherries. As obnoxious as the Ravinstills were, they sure knew how to throw a party.

Suddenly, Persephone, your older sister and Percy’s twin, appeared in front of the both of you.

Her hair was now suddenly pink, a different shade than from the last time you saw her.

Persephone had a strange fixation with constantly changing her appearance; your mother blamed it on her eclectic boss and vibrant coworker: Fabricia Whatnot and Tigris Snow.

“Hello, Perse.” Persephone smiles, giving Percy a hug.

“Hello back, Perse.” He smiles, rubbing her back. The two of them called each other Perse, crediting their shared names of two famous Greek heroes.

Your father loved mythology, and found it only appropriate to have children named after his favorite hero and goddess.

As your siblings fell into animated conversation, you excused yourself and made your way back to Felix.

He was now with his father, his head thrown back in laughter.

You placed your hand delicately on his back, alerting him of your presence.

“Oh, hello, darling,” he smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You smiled and curtsied to the President, before he took your small hand and brought it up to his mouth, leaving a haste kiss.

“Hello, Miss Mars. Pleasure to see you,”

“Pleasure is all mine, Mister President.” You smile.

The three of you fall into easy conversation. Felix and you soon break free, making your rounds to the many other guests, and friends from the Academy.

Soon the familiar sound of Panem’s Waltz began to play throughout the large room, and Felix lead you into the middle of the dance floor, taking your hand into his.

The two of you lead the waltz, other young couples joining in as the adults watching with pride blossoming onto their faces.

You wished the floor would swallow you whole.

Felix aggressively twirled you around the room, his hand rough and burning through your dress, and his other hand squeezing the life out of yours.

He spun you around and around, not delicately like Percy or even Festus Creed would’ve done.

Your eyes quickly met with Arachne’s, who gave you a solemn nod, knowing how much you hated him. You frowned back, and she mouthed “dance”, to encourage you to take lead and show him who was boss.

You quickly moved your feet in the motion of the foxtrot, causing Felix to follow your lead. The other couples soon followed, Arachne sending you a beaming smile.

Felix struggled to follow your lead, he never quite got the hang of any dance other than the waltz, and you knew this would cause an argument as his jaw tightened, and slightly stuck out his foot, sending you stumbling into his arms.

A smug smirk took over his features as you gave him a death stare, pulling yourself back into place and straightening your dress.

The other couples continues to dance while the two of you had a staring contest, before you shoved him slightly and went to leave the dance floor.

His hand harshly grabbed your arm, and pulled you back into his chest. Before you could comprehend it, you shoved his chest, and caught the attention of the entire room.

“Please excuse us, I’m afraid Miss Mars has had one too many drinks,” he laughed, causing the rest of the room to join in, soon making you into a joke.

You knew they weren’t truly laughing, having all drank a little too much themselves, but you refused to let Felix make you into a fool.

“I’ve just got to freshen up in the bathroom is all. I’ll be back momentarily. The foxtrot was never my best anyhow,” you smiled your sickly sweet grin, everyone believing the words falling from your tongue.

“Now, excuse you,” you shoved past Felix, letting your shoulder hit his as you passed him.

You were left with an awful taste in your mouth.

You grabbed a glass of something on your way out, tipping the glass back to empty all of the liquid into your throat.

What you failed to notice was the script Morphling enhanced written on the Avox’s tray.

You immediately felt calmer, the tension leaving your body.

After you finished the glass, you decided that was enough, and made your way through the crowds, needing some fresh air.

You found yourself in a deserted hall, and tears soon found themselves in your eyes. You told yourself to keep it in, but the mix of anger and morphling caused the hot salty tears to pour out of you.

You wailed, and slapped a hand across your mouth to stop the sound of more, eyes darting throughout the hall to make sure no one saw you.

The hall was empty, thank Heavensbee, and you leaned your head back against the portrait of some past Panem military leader, a string of tears passing down your cheeks.

Felix treated you like a fucking doll, and you weren’t some porcelain plaything that if he let go of would smash into millions of pieces.

You were a lady, a strong, beautiful, intelligent lady, who would not be defined by an ignorant, stupid, man-child who didn’t know his right foot from his left.

With that, you pushed off the wall, and headed towards the south end of the hall, which held two large doors that lead straight to the Royal Garden.

You exited to the garden, beautiful flowers lit by the light coming from the ball room. A small bench sat between the rows of colorful exotic plants.

A shadowed figure was hunched on this said bench, elbows on his knees and head in his palms.

You stumbled on your way over to him, picking up your flowing dark red dress to get to this figure quicker.

As you get closer, you notice the sharp black tuxedo and blonde hair. Immediate dread overtakes your body and you stop dead.

Coriolanus Snow.

Of fucking course. You scoff and let go of your dress. Coriolanus looks up, eyes widening as he takes in your distressed figure.

You and Coriolanus were once friends, but his ego got in the way and you found yourself parting ways from him. Sure, he used to be a sweet boy, but now his ego was as tall as he was, and his last name gave him power others could only dream of.

“Y/N Mars.” Coriolanus nodded, standing up and adjusting his cuff links.

“Coriolanus. Long time no see,” you rolled your eyes, morphling continuing to make your blood hot and coursing.

“Enjoying your party?” He asked, venom laced within his words.

You scowled. “My party? Funny.”

“Oh you don’t know? Felix plans on proposing. I supposed six months is the new six years,” a smirk adorned Coriolanus’s face as he watches yours twist with anger and confusion.

“Wha-… Why?” You spurt out. Suddenly you felt extremely sober.

“I couldn’t guess either. Who would want to marry you?” His words were bullets, hitting you right in the chest.

You couldn’t believe it. But as you thought into the night more, it all made perfect sense. Percy coming back from active duty, all of Panem’s most respectable being there, and Felix showing you off to everyone. He had never been that attached to your hip before.

Tears threatened to slip once more, the last thing you wished to do was marry Felix Ravinstill, but you knew once he was down on that knee, your father’s eyes would bore into yours. You wouldn’t have the heart to let him down.

Desperately wishing to change the subject, you placed your head up high and made eye contact once more with the mean boy in front of you.

“Why were you out here all alone, Coriolanus?”

Was that a hint of… of worry across your face? No, it couldn’t be, Coriolanus thought.

He found himself taken aback by your worried tone and soft eyes after he had repeatedly thrown insults your way.

“Some fresh air, that’s all,” he clears his throat, trying his best to suppress his feelings he had fought for so long.

Insulting you, hiding away. That was all he could do. He had be mean to you your entire life, teasing you, stealing your first kiss on a “dare”. He had never once been nice.

But you were Panem’s Princess, and he could not be in love with Panem’s Princess, so he shoved down his feelings and refused to admit them. After all, why would a rich girl like you be with a poor boy like him?

“I haven’t seen you once tonight. It’s freezing out here, come inside and get some warmth,” you take a step closer to him, causing him to sit up straighter on the bench.

Why were you acting like you cared? Did you know his secret? Or did you truly care? Were his feelings mutual?

“You must have been too preoccupied with Mister President Junior to notice my presence. Naturally, we don’t like each other.”

His statement caused you to take a step backwards. The cold radiated off his skin.

You had deep feelings for Coriolanus, and you assumed he knew. You had only given him your first kiss years ago, just to find out it was a dare from Clemensia.

It shattered your little heart, and you had sworn him off since that dreadful night.

So, to find him so cold and mean when you were so vulnerable, it felt like that night when you were 13 all over again.

It seemed Coriolanus had a specific talent for breaking your heart.

“Alright then. You can be miserable by yourself, Snow. All I’ve done is try to help.” You sniffled, turning brisk on your heel and marching back to the doors you had came out from.

Coriolanus leaned slightly back, wondering what he had just done.

The girl he had been pawning over for years came outside and was trying to comfort him, how could he have been so stupid as to turn you away?

On your solemn walk back through the hallway, you figured Felix could be a good husband. The future president of Panem, and not terribly unattractive.

But deep down, your heart yearned for a certain boy with blue eyes and pale hair, a certain boy who had crushed your heart countless times.

Instead of returning to the ballroom, you headed up the large marble staircase, and straight to the first bedroom.

You threw yourself onto the ornate golden bed, undoing your elaborate bun from the nape of your neck.

Your hair flowed down your back, and you stood in front of the mirror, wiping below your eyes. No one could see you like this.

An abrupt knock came from the other side of the door, and your head snapped.

Surely no one had seen you go upstairs. And there was absolutely no way Coriolanus had followed you.

Opening the door, the familiar face from the garden stood in front of you, eyebrows laced and fret covering his face.

“Coriolanus?” You whispered, the tears once more threatening to spill.

“Please, I am not in the mood.” He felt the crack in your voice deep in his core, and felt a pit begin to form in his stomach.

“Can I come in?” He whispered. You stepped aside and his broad frame crossed the floorboards onto the lush green carpet you stood atop.

“What is it now? Come to insult my dress as well? Tell me that my makeup has smeared?” You sat on the edge of the bed, and placed your face in your hands.

Coriolanus stood in silence for a few moments, then he got onto his knees before you and gently moved your hands from your face.

His fingertips gently traced the sides of your cheeks as they moved your delicate hands, and then he cupped your left cheek and you found yourself leaning in.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never been more sorry for something in my life.” His apology surprised you, and your eyes went wide.

“It’s alright, nothing I’m not used to with you,” you mustered a slight smile.

“No, it’s not alright. I’ve been a fool, Y/N.” Your eyes began to narrow, was this another aspect of his cruel games?

“I’ve been a fool for a long time. Trying to convince myself that I don’t love you. But the harder I try to fight my feelings, the harder they come back and burst into my heart. I love you more than a man could ever love a woman. And I’ve been terrible to you, utterly awful. And you deserve someone who treats you the right way, and I know that Felix cannot love you the way I can. Felix could never give you the things I could, he could never make you feel things I can make you feel.” Coriolanus is stroking your face, his eyes soft and glossy.

You want to believe him, you truly do, but he has never given you a reason to.

You brush his hand away from your face.

“Coriolanus Snow. You have tormented me for too long, knowing my feelings for you. You take, and take, and take, and I have nothing left. Felix, sure he’s not the brightest nor the most doting, but he makes a suitable choice at this point. I haven’t got anything left to give to you. So please, leave me alone.”

You go to stand up, but Coriolanus is pushing you back down.

“Cant you see, I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember!”

“You’ve never given me a reason to believe that, Coriolanus!”

The two of you were yelling at this point, and you were very thankful for the loud music down below.

“I know, I know. And I’m so deeply sorry. I should’ve been better, I know.”

“Yes, you should have. And you cannot have me just because you decided ten minutes ago that I was suddenly appealing.”

“You’ve always been beautiful, Y/N.”

You shake your head, looking down to the ground.

“Please, give me a chance. Just one. I won’t mess it up.”

You look up and meet his eyes. You debate his plea in your head.

You could give him a chance and dump Felix, a win-win. But what happens if he goes back to his old ways and hurts you again. He would make a fool of you and there’s no way you could ever beg Felix to take you back.

Before your mind can decide, your heart picks.

“Alright. But just one. No other chances.”

“No other chances. I love you, Y/N.”

You cant stop yourself from smiling, truly believing his words this time. “I love you, Coriolanus.”

A grin splays across his face and he places his hands on either side of your face, delicately tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“May I kiss you?” A small nod is all you offer before his lips come crashing down onto yours, feeling the exact way they did 5 years ago when the two of you sat in a dark closet.

His lips are cold, but they melt together with your warm ones. The kiss is passionate and slow, the both of you taking your time, cherishing the moment.

Soon, he is standing and pushing you back onto the bed, your head lightly hitting the pillow.

The kiss turns rushed and heated, the both of you breathing heavily. Your hand moves from his bicep to his hair, tugging, earning a groan from deep inside his throat.

He slots his legs between yours, and your thighs latch onto his sides.

You move your hands down to his shoulders, digging deep into his back, feeling the tough muscles contract beneath your perfectly polished red nails.

He pulls back briefly, with lust blown pupils. You assume yours look the same.

He takes your hand and examines the nails, the finest ruby ring around your middle finger, with diamonds forming a crown.

He brings your hand up to his mouth and sucks on your middle finger and ring finger, before pulling them back.

You watch with big eyes and a slightly open mouth, feeling your panties pool down below.

“I’ve only ever dreamt of having you like this.”

You don’t respond, just swallowing roughly.

He moves back to your lips, but only briefly, then moves down your neck, taking his time leaving marks. You’re sure you’ll need extra concealer and powder in the morning, but that is a worry for later.

The only thing you can focus on now is the way his lips feel against your sensitive skin.

He looks up while sucking your collarbone, his eyes dark and seductive. He had you exactly where he wanted, writhing beneath him.

His tongue finds its way down your cleavage, pecking the visible skin. “Such a pretty dress,” he whispers, you silently begging him to continue.

He’s soon shrugging off his tuxedo coat and undoing his bow tie.

You sit up and try to unzip the back of the dress, silently struggling.

He unbuttons his white collared shirt and throws it onto the ground before moving to help you, sliding down the zipper with ease.

He rips the dress down your body, throwing it to the floor. He sits up on his knees and assesses your whole body, suddenly bulging against his pants as he takes in your uncovered breasts.

“No bra? Naughty girl,” he tsks, placing his hands on either side of your waist.

The only part of your body covered is your genitals, a simple black floral lace thong sitting on your hips.

You start to wiggle, desperate for him to do something again.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” He taunts, running a finger across the band of your panties.

“Please,” you whisper, taking his hands into yours.

“Anything for you, my love, tell me what you want,” he leaves a quick kiss to your lips, pulling back to allow you to answer.

“Your mouth.” You’ve never given requests like this before. Ha! You’ve never even been listened to during your few times with Felix. He always had you go down on him or be on top. You had never been eaten out before, and you thought there was no better person than Coriolanus.

A smirk overtakes Coriolanus’s face as he realizes you’ve never had someone go down on you before. “Of course, love.” He shuffles down the bed, laying on his stomach.

You sit up on your elbows to get a better view of him, watching with your breath held as he pulls down your thong with his teeth.

You could melt on the spot.

He throws the panties somewhere over his shoulder, and begins to kiss the inside of each your thighs, taking his sweet time.

“Please, Coryo,” you pant, your chest rising quickly.

Before you even have a chance to close your mouth, he is on your skin, sucking on your clit. The feeling is unbelievable and you throw your head back in pleasure.

His tongue glides between your folds, exploring wildly as you try your hardest not to scream out in pleasure.

He continues to suck, and sticks a finger in while you’re mid-moan, leading to a loud, “Oh, Coryo,” falling from your parted lips.

He smirks against your swollen clit, adding a second finger, pumping at an almost impossible speed.

You feel the pit in your stomach start to come undone and once he feels you begin to wiggle he knows you’re close.

“C’mon, princess,” he urges in a hoarse whisper, adding a third finger.

You’re undone in seconds, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from screaming his name for all of Panem to hear.

He laps up everything you give, and sticks his fingers into his mouth to ducks off your juices.

His legs are back in between yours, swollen lips quickly reattaching to yours.

He wipes the few stray tears that fell, a sense of pride blossoming in his chest, knowing he was the first man to make you feel that way.

“Coryo, let me please you,” you beg, hands fumbling as you undo his belt and begin to pull down his velvet dress pants.

“Next time. I want to focus on you,” he simply states and your heart soars, no man has ever said that to you, especially in these circumstances.

“I need to feel you, Y/N,” he simply states, hands on your hips.

You nod, ready to feel him inside you. You can only imagine how good it will feel.

“Use your words, baby. I need verbal confirmation,”

“Please, Coriolanus, I need you,” you grab his face, pulling it back down to meet yours. You then move your hands down to his boxers, the both of you pulling them down and flinging them off to join your panties.

His impressive length bounces back, standing straight up against his stomach. Your eyes widen with shock and your clit throbs imagining it inside of you.

Felix is nothing compared to Coryo.

“You’re so big,” you mumble, likely the alcohol from earlier speaking.

He chuckles at your comment, watching you size him up. “Don’t worry, pretty thing, I’ll fit,” he smirks, cupping your face once again.

He lines himself up with your slick folds, bringing your hands down to push himself in.

His large hands cover your small ones, and he watches your face as he slowly pushes in.

Your face first twists with pain and he immediately halts his movements, beginning to pull out before you urge him to continue.

“No, no, it feels good,” you whisper, lightly hissing.

“Just tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures, pushing his full length in.

You gasp as he fills you up, your tight folds holding his cock so well, Coryo’s head falls back in pleasure, a light groan falling from his lips.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whimpers, going down onto his elbows so he can be closer to you.

“I love you,” he kisses the corner of your mouth before pulling out and going right back in, your hands finding his back.

“Fuck, Coryo, I love—“ a moan interrupts your sentence as he roughly pushes his full length in at once, filling you up in ways you’d never imagined.

He continues to flick his hips into yours, your ankles crossing behind his back, pulling him even closer to your body. The both of you are panting and sweating, chests rising into each other.

Your body trembles in indescribable pleasure as he continues thrusting in at an incredible pace, your head thrown back against the pillow and your eyes closed.

You scream out, his hand slapping down over your mouth to keep you quiet. This turns you on even more, and you begin to move your hips with his, allowing him to push in even deeper.

The slapping of skin and your shared groans fill the air, and Coryo’s lips find your sweet spot against your neck, filling you with even more pleasure.

“Coryo,” you moan, fingernails scratching down his back.

Somehow, his thrusts get harder and faster, pounding into you like a fuck doll he couldn’t get enough of. Arousal drips out of you, and Coryo begins to pull all the out before slamming right back in.

You felt like you were going to explode from pure bliss, the feeling of Coryo’s lips on yours, his strong hands holding you in place, and the feeling of his cock deep inside your pulsing walls.

You feel the pit begin to form again, and Coryo knows you’re close when you begin to tighten around him, and you feel his thrusts get sloppier.

His cock twitches as you whimper underneath him, and he grunts, “I’m close, princess,”

“Me too, Coryo,” you moan, hands gripping his biceps.

With a final thrust, the both of you come undone together, Coryo collapsing onto your chest.

You kiss the side of his face, weakly smiling as his eyes meet yours.

He leaves a kiss to your lips before pushing himself off the bed and going into the en-suite bathroom, quickly running a wash cloth under water and coming back.

He wipes it down your legs and over your privates, kissing your knees as he does so.

He lays back down with you, stroking your face and examining the features he’s loved forever.

“You are beautiful,” he smiles, brushing your hair back.

You blush, shaking your head, “I’m probably a mess right now,”.

“Never.” He kisses your forehead and sits up, “but we do have to go back down there.”

You groan with the realization, quickly being snapped out of your bliss bubble with Coriolanus.

He helps you off the bed, steadying your hips. You assure him that you can walk, and he helps you slip into your dress and heels.

He pulls back on his clothing as you try your best to salvage whats left of your makeup in the bathroom.

“I’m ending it with him when we get down there.” You take Coryo’s hand, lacing it within yours.

“Don’t leave my side, please,” you beg.

“I would never.” He reassures you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

The two of you quietly exit the room, slowly descending the stairs.

You don’t even know how long you’ve been up there, or if the party is still going on.

The loud music assures you that it is, and Coryo stands directly behind you as you enter the ballroom, all eyes falling onto you two.

You catch Percy’s eye first, his face twisted with confusion. Persephone is behind him next to Tigris, the two of them size both of you up, worry evident in their features.

Felix makes his way up to you, and the Capitol citizens act as if they aren’t watching any more, despite the stolen glances and almost hushed conversations.

“Y/N. Where were you,” Felix grips your arm harshly, and you let out a whimper.

Coryo is between the two of you in seconds, his brooding frame easily towering over Felix’s cowering body.

“Don’t touch her.” He threatens, eyes narrowed.

He knows he is teetering in dangerous water. The Snow’s are almost nothing, and the Ravinstills rule all of Panem. Felix could have him dead with the snap of his fingers.

But all Felix does is laugh, brushing Coryo off.

“She is my girlfriend, Coriolanus, don’t overstep now,” Felix chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not anymore,” you say loudly from behind Coryo, who slightly shifts to let you have access to Felix.

Felix gives you a confused look, raising his eyebrow.

“Felix, I cannot be with you anymore. You treat me as if I am a porcelain doll who is only for you to show off. I am a woman, and I am no one’s to parade around.” You say, the large room dead silent.

Your father grins in the back, Uncle Heracles joining. Percy is as well, Pride swelling for his baby sister.

“What?” Felix chokes out, looking as if he’s seen a ghost.

“You heard me loud and clear. It’s done. And I will be leaving now.” You hold your chin up high, and march out, passing President Ravinstill.

You give him a small nod, thanking him once again for having you.

Coriolanus trails you, and you are sure everyone must suspect what happened upstairs. But that doesn’t matter to you at all in that moment.

As soon as the two of you are outside the Palace, and in one of the carriages, Coryo is holding your hand, and kissing it endlessly.

“I’m very proud of you, my love.” He says, and you tuck yourself into his side. “I’m happy it’s done. After all, I’ve got my Coriolanus Snow now, don’t I?” You ask, earning a chuckle from the man you love and a giggle from your own lips.

#imagine #angst #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #corio snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x y/n #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #panem #smut #coriolanus x oc #coriolanus snow x reader #maeve writes 🎀

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cozymaples · 4 months

Text

white snow, red as strawberries in the summertime. | (coryo x reader)

a/n: i have yet to write for coryo yet, but this came to me and i just….needed to execute it. merry early christmas!

contains/tw: bl00d play , kn!fe play, afab!reader, oral!f receiving

coryo who doesn't trust you enough to assure people that you're his, causing his ideas to run wild. coryo whose gaze locks on yours, silently asking 'do you trust me?' to which you nod.

coryo who takes his exorbitant dagger, often held close for safe keeping, now delicately dragging the tip of the blade along your skin. it pierces the doughy flesh of your thigh, and you hiss lightly through your teeth. he's knelt between your legs, arm hitched under your knee as he shelves your leg, draped over his shoulder down his back. the posture helps with his precision, carving the first inital of his name into your skin.

you're embarrassed of the way the pain makes your clit throb, and you jerk slightly as he continues through each letter. "hold still," he says. you whine softly in response, more out of fear than desire; though, they're in battle to overpower the other, since your brain can't make up its mind.

you feel your blood trickle down your thigh, hearing it patter on the marble floor beneath you.

"it'll stain," you breathe.

"we have people for that." he assures you.

your thigh is warm now, and you're praying he's near finished. your question is answered when your hear the metal clang of the dagger, carelessly being tossed to the side. it surprises you; and you finally gaze down at him, seeing the mess he's made. "coryo-" you gasp, and before you can say any more, his mouth is latched to your thigh, sucking against his initials. it makes you see starts, falling back against the chair he's placed you in.

"stay still," he instructs, crimson staining his lips. you only sigh with relif, your brain foggy with lust. you couldn't do anything other than stay put for him, and he knows it. "are you with me, or no?" he asks, and although it's abrasive, it's his form of consent. you nod. "always."

he tears your panties from you, the fabric splitting with a loud rip. like the dagger, they’re discarded to the side. he immediately hitches both of your legs over his shoulders, mouth latching to your pussy. it causes your body to jerk, gasping and hissing through your teeth.

his mouth is tender, but works relentlessly against your clit. the remnants of crimson along your thigh brush against his cheek, blushing him. your moans echo, and he silently allows you to tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, not protesting a bit as you tug at them.

it only encourages him to work harder-faster.

his tongue presses flat against your pussy, licking a broad stripe up to your clit. when he reconnects with it, he’s sucking on it gently tongue lapping beneath it.

“coryo,” you whine, a warning. he tugs you closer to him, harshly, nearly knocking you off the chair. your hips reactively buck upwards; and he releases his grip on your unmarked thigh, using two fingers to pump in and out of you. he begins brushing along the spot nestled deep inside of you, that only he was allowed to reach.

he hums satisfactorily as you unravel for him, smug and knowing; it was sooner or later. your fingers are nestled in his hair, white-knuckled and desperate to ground yourself. your face is flushed red when he pulls back from you, his features slick with your cum, glistening on his lips. his left cheek is brandished with your blood, and you stare at him, bewildered.

“i’ve had you in pain, and i’ve had you in pleasure. granted you both.” he says, “eased you out of one, rewarding you with the latter.” you nod.

“now,” he starts, glancing at your embellished thigh, sore and tender with his engraved initials. “whose are you?” he asks, looking up at you. your gaze stays on his, following it as he rises to his feet. “yours.” you say, “i’m only yours, coryo.” he tugs your dress back down, and you smooth it out with your palms. he cups your chin, glancing down at you as he nods once.

“don’t forget it.”

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mrs5sn0w · 5 months

Text

Serenade of Shadows

I : A Dance of Shadows -> II : Whisper of Deceit -> III : A Symphony of Heartbreak -> IV : Fractured Reflections -> V : Shadows of Allegiance-> VI : Echoes of Decent

Series Masterlist

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

warnings: Arranged marriage, MILD ANGST, unrequited love, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers

Reader's surname : Flare

Time frame: Before, during and after tbosbas

Synopsis : In the events of Panem's political dynamics and the 10th annual Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow and her find themselves entwined. Standing at the brink of an enforced union, 6 years later, their mutual trust unravels amidst a damaging misinterpretation, prompting Coriolanus to believe the wrong. As the glacial barriers guarding his emotions begin to melt, a revelation of profound feelings unfolds, initiating a sprint against time for redemption.

The Academy bore witness a friendship that would echo through the corridors of time. In the their youth, Coriolanus Snow and her forged bonds that transcended the boundaries of academic pursuits.

Their journey through the Academy was a dance of shared laughter, intellectual banter, and the unspoken friendship that defined their connection. She was a vibrant force of creativity, and Coriolanus Snow was no different.

"Coryo, have you ever wondered what lies beyond these walls? The world beyond our textbooks and exams?"

Snow, his eyes focused on the distant horizon, considered the question.

"The future is a realm of uncertainties, Flare. I prefer to focus on the present."

She persisted, her enthusiasm undiminished. "But what if we could shape our own destinies? Break free from the expectations of the Capitol?"

He regarded her, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Our paths are preordained but the Capitol is our life."

Their classes became a sanctuary of shared aspirations and mutual understanding.

As the sun dipped below the Capitol skyline, casting a warm glow across the Academy courtyard, she broached the unspoken realm of their connection.

"do you ever think about us? beyond the expectations placed upon us?"

Snow, caught off guard, allowed a rare smile to grace his stoic features.

"What do you mean ?"

"Forget what I said, the reaping day is coming, do you think they'll announce who's gonna get the Plinth Prize ?"

She knew it must be him who gets the prize. She knew he needed it more than she does.

In those fleeting moments, beneath the shadows of the Academy's pillars, a subtle dance of emotions unfolded.

His face sparked a smile, hoping that it would be himself who got the prize,after all, he wouldn't want his hard work to go into waste.

"I hope so..." he let out a long breath while looking at the smiling girl in her red uniform

Unbeknownst to him, she harbored a sentiment deeper than friendship, a quiet flame that flickered in the recesses of her heart.

Reaping day approached with a sense of urgency, the anticipation hung in the air, threading through the classrooms like an unspoken undercurrent.

One evening, in the dim glow of the Academy library, she dared to tread the delicate ground of vulnerability.

"I would really fail any exam just so you can get the prize, Coryo."

He met her gaze,

"Why would you do that ?"

She gently grabbed his hands

"you're the one who has every reason in this world to get it more than anyone, you're Coriolanus Snow, look at how far we've come, you're gonna be someone amazing in Panem."

His heart stopped beating, confused at how she was reacting. No one believes in him like she did. No one had faith in him like she did.

A gentle smile was plastered across his face,

"you're gonna be an amazing woman as well. Panem is going to look at you one day and be grateful that you are born into this world."

Their final days were a montage of shared dreams and sidelong glances, the unspoken understanding between them growing into something deeper.

Yet, in the delicate dance of emotions, Corio remained oblivious to the blossoming romance that she harbored.

The Reaping Day arrived, casting a pall over the top 24 students of the Academy. She wore a stunning nude colored corset dress, that embraced her curves, featuring sleeves that gracefully hug her arms. The dress emphasized her collarbones, adding an elegant touch. Her hairstyle complements the look with soft waves cascading down her shoulders, framing her face and enhancing the overall sophistication of the ensemble.

Coryo and her sat side by side, hearing the announcement from Dean Highbottom of the obligatory mentorship to the tributes. They sat as names intertwined in the cruel lottery of tributes.

A silent understanding passed between them, a shared acknowledgment of the dangerous journey that awaited. They did not know what they were getting into.

"District 8, boy, y/n Flare"

Her eyes looked over the screen of a boy named Bobbins, hope glimmered across her eyes, only wishing the best for her tribute.

"District 12, girl goes to Coriolanus Snow"

As Lucy Gray Baird is called forth as a tribute during the reaping day, her demeanor contrasts the somber atmosphere. She wore a dress that catches the light, its colors reminiscent of the wild.

Despite the gravity of the moment, the district 12 female tribute's gaze holds a spark of defiance, and her posture exudes a quiet strength. The curls of her hair cascade down, a vivid contrast against the muted tones of the crowd. In that pivotal moment, Flare knew that Lucy Gray stands as a symbol of resilience and individuality.

Snow and Flare locked eyes,

they were saying good luck internally to each other.

Snow and her were determined to make a winner out of their tributes.

She was impressed with how Bobbin managed to captivate the audience by explaining five different ways to kill someone with a sewing needle.

Then, when she was asleep during the night of Day one, unbeknownst to her, Snow had left the academy to the arena on a mission to get his friend Sejanus out.

Coriolanus Snow experiences a tumult of conflicting emotions when he killed Bobbin, Flare's tribute.

The act weighs heavily on him, and a sense of remorse and unease lingers.

Coryo grapples with the harsh reality of the Games and the choices it forces upon him, questioning the morality of his actions. The incident leaves an ineradicable mark on his conscience, he decides never to let this be known.

Especially her.

Her eyes widened, a sudden jolt coursing through her body as fact that her tribute died sank in. Her breath caught, a sharp inhale betraying the shock that gripped her. The world felt suspended, and disbelief etched itself across her face, a mask of astonishment and heart-wrenching realization.

There was no recording of her tribute dying, which is impossible. Bobbin could have not died suddenly.

Someone must've killed him.

Her brows furrowed, caught in the turbulent mixture of emotion. Confusion knit lines across her forehead as she struggled to make sense of the unfolding situation.

Then anger simmered beneath the surface, her eyes flashing with an intensity fueled by frustration and disbelief. It was a storm of conflicting feelings, each wave crashing into the next, leaving her torn between the chaos of confusion and the fiery surge of anger.

The air around her crackled with unresolved emotions, a volatile blend that painted her expression with a mix of perplexity and a smoldering indignation.

She eyed the boy who she had feelings for,

"It's not fair, there's no record of anyone killing him, the broadcast must've been frozen or someone must've sabotaged him" she insisted

With a remorseful gaze, he uttered, "I'm sorry, Flare," his apologetic words weaving through the air, a confession concealed as she remained oblivious to the intricacies of his furtive actions.

Her heavy steps lead her outside the room, a storm of anger in her eyes and a resolute determination fueling every step, driven by a resolute need to unravel the mysteries of what actually happened.

___

"I need to know the truth" She whispered in a hushed tones, slipping a bundle of cash to the shadowy figure.

As she gazed over the surveillance camera, a tidal wave of emotions crashed through her, leaving devastation in its wake.

Sejanus and Coryo running for their lives as Bobbin chased after them. She then witnessed the gruesome murder of her tribute and mentee. The betrayal cut deep, an unseen dagger thrust into the core of her trust. Shock mingled with disbelief, and a profound ache settled in her chest.

The echoes of their shared moments, the laughter, and camaraderie, now tainted by the stain of his actions, echoed through her mind.

Anguish painted her features, and the realization of his betrayal felt like the shattering of something precious. In that moment, innocence crumbled, replaced by a raw, searing pain that marked the end of the girl who once believed in him.

She whispered, "Coriolanus Snow, how could you?"

The elusive figure responded, "Truth has its own price, my dear."

Faced with an intricate choice, even in betrayal, she sought salvation for Coriolanus,

'Protect him, even if it means sacrificing Sejanus.' she said to herself.

The web of deceit tightened, capturing Coryo in the damning revelation despite her desperate gambit to shift the blame to Sejanus.

The clacking sounds of her heels sounded through the hallway as she made her way to Dean Casca Highbottom.

"I have something to report, Mr Highbottom."

As she began unraveling the narrative, detailing Sejanus's involvement, a chilling revelation interrupted her desperate plea.

"You do know that your dear Coriolanus has been involved in cheating." Shock seized her as the revelation unfolded – Coriolanus Snow, the very person she sought to protect, exposed for his deceit.

The weight of betrayal and the magnitude of his cunning unfolded before her eyes. In that moment, she stood frozen, grappling with the stark truth that shattered the illusions she held.

What more did he do ? Who is he becoming ? This isn't the Coryo she knew.

Dean disclosed Snow's cheating endeavors, providing Lucy Gray with a compact powder with rat poison and a handkerchief bearing his father's emblem.

Her efforts to shield Coriolanus crumbled in the face of Snow's deceit.

"You did this because you knew he killed your dear tribute ? Poor little girl, how stupid"

"How did you-"

"Oh I know dear, I know..."

Dean's stern words echoed the futility of her attempts to protect someone who had betrayed not only her trust but the very essence of the Games' integrity.

Then came the turning point, a twist of fate that would cast a long shadow over their friendship.

Dean's voice cut through the tense air like a blade.

___

"What about Lucy Gray ?" Snow worriedly asked

"I would be worried about your own future if I were you" Dean spoke

"Miss Flare, your dear friend, has been quite forthcoming about your involvement."

Snow, unaware of the orchestrated trap, felt the ground beneath him tremble.

"Flare?" he questioned, the word heavy with disbelief.

Dean nodded, his expression a mask of stern authority. His accusatory gaze bore into Snow as he spoke with calculated precision.

"Miss Flare has disclosed your attempt to cheat in the Hunger Games. She provided detailed accounts of your covert actions, betraying not only the trust of your fellow tributes but also the integrity of the Games."

Snow's eyes widened in disbelief, a storm of emotions churning within him. "Flare? She told you about this?"

Dean nodded, maintaining an air of authority. "Yes, Snow. She confessed, hoping to shield you, but the truth has an uncanny way of surfacing."

"Also, she was feeling rather....furious that you killed her tribute"

The revelation left Snow grappling with a profound sense of betrayal, as Flare's desperate gambit to protect him morphed into an unexpected accusation that threatened to shatter his carefully constructed world.

The revelation hung in the air, a sinister turn of events that spun a narrative of betrayal. The trap tightened, ensnaring Snow in a web of deceit orchestrated by the very person he trusted.

Accusations of betrayal surfaced, linking her to covert strategies that backfired in the arena. The Capitol, always hungry for drama, reveled in the narrative of treachery.

Betrayal, however, was a phantom that haunted the shadows of truth. Snow, consumed by the bitterness of perceived betrayal, severed ties with her.

The friendship that weathered the storms of academia crumbled, leaving behind the echoes of what could have been.

Emotions surged through Snow like a tumultuous tide, his initial disbelief morphing into an overwhelming sense of anger.

The disclosure of Flare's admission, initially perceived as a protective act, now felt like an unexpected betrayal.

Dean's words, delivered with meticulous precision, only added fuel to Snow's rising fury. The burden of betrayal pressed heavily on him, as the realization dawned that Flare, in her attempt to shield him, had unintentionally entangled him in her admission.

Snow's eyes glowed with resentment, and an intense anger gripped him, a blazing fire stoked by the unforeseen turn of events, jeopardizing not only his standing but the very core of everything.

---Present Day----

Stuck in the present, their eyes mirroring the weight of untold histories. The grandeur of their wedding day was now tainted by the lingering shadows of a friendship lost.

In the quiet of their shared existence, as the Capitol reveled in the celebration of their union, the dance through time echoed with the poignant melodies of what once was. Snow, bound by duty, and she, she trapped in a loveless union, were left to navigate the intricate steps of a dance that transcended the boundaries of past and present. The grand wedding, a tableau of splendor, concealed the intricate dance of hearts left in the shadows.

taglist : @randomgurl2326

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shewantstowritefairytales · 3 months

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You're Losing Me // Coriolanus Snow

~angsty drabble about the end of a relationship with Coriolanus Snow~

“Do you hate me?” he asked. I could see the anger in his eyes. What I would say would only upset him more.

“I don't hate you Coriolanus. I will never hate you.” I hadn’t convinced him, I was holding something back. He knew it, I knew it.

“Don’t lie to me! You promised you would never lie to me.” I didn’t want this. Saying it out loud would make it real, and it would destroy so much.

“Truly Coriolanus, I don’t hate you. I never have. But god, I hate what you have become.” He was angry, I know. Shocked by my honesty, and I already knew.

“What are you talking about? I don't understand.”

“I know you don’t.” and I should have stopped there. I should have taken back my words, apologized, and let it be, but I couldn’t. I was exhausted and once the words started to come out, I knew there was no stopping them. “Do you remember the way we were as children, Coriolanus? We were scared and hungry and we didn't have anything except for each other. We were always there for one another, always putting each other’s needs before our own.” I could see in his eyes as he remembered the way our pasts were intertwined, he couldn't see how things had changed. “The nights you would bring over your favorite blanket for me because I was ill, despite the fact it was your only warm blanket at home. Or the days I would share my lunch with you at school because I knew you wouldn't have any food at home for dinner. We made so many sacrifices for each other.” My heart ached as I thought of our childhoods, the way we survived because of each other. Nowadays, it felt like I spent all my time surviving him.

“Nothing has changed–”

“Everything has changed!! We grew up and you went away. I stayed here waiting for you because I knew you, and I loved you. Because you were it for me. Your heart knew mine, and your mind was beautiful. You were open and understanding and gentle. But then you came back and it was like something had been switched off in your mind. You had become short and stern. Your eyes were empty and your voice was cold. And still I stayed because I could tell you were hurting. Time went on and slowly it felt like you were coming back to me. Like on our wedding night when we sat on the floor in our reception clothes eating junk food. We laughed for hours about how ridiculous we must have looked, and I remember thinking ‘This is it, he’s home. Things are going to be normal, he is going to be okay.’ Coriolanus I stood by you from student to head gamemaker, all the way to becoming the youngest president of Panem. I was so proud and I understood that these job titles came with certain expectations and responsibilities that could not be avoided. I have never once complained about missed birthdays or anniversaries. I bit my tongue when I was brought to important outings, despite knowing that I would spend the evening being talked down to and would be expected to be nothing more than an arm accessory for you. I smiled politely and agreed with everything that was said. I lost myself to love you. With every inch of power you have gained Coriolanus, you have taken a step away from me. You say that you love me, you tell the world that you’re proud to have me by your side, but you can't see it. You can't see that I am dying inside. I am a shell of who I was. I live in painful silence, overly aware that my unhappiness would be an intrusion on this perfect life you have created for us.” My voice cracked, tears begging to fall as I took a shaky breath. My hands were shaking as I rubbed my palms against the sides of my dress, attempting to smooth down any non-existent wrinkles as a sort of grasp for some control of this terrible moment.

“You’re losing me, and you have done nothing to stop it.” The silence from him was expected, after all, to him this came out of nowhere. He had convinced himself and the world that things between us were perfect. To me, this was years in the making. For as long as I could remember, I had convinced myself it was necessary, losing myself to love him. To make myself dull so that he could shine. But this was the final straw. To accuse me of hating him when I have done all but kill myself to love him. I never asked him to choose me, I had convinced myself that one day all my sacrifices would lead him to put me first. But in the end I got no love, only accusations and disbelief. Only a single tear fell from my eyes as I saw the decision cloud into his eyes. He had decided that losing me would be worth it. I nodded and turned to walk out. Maybe losing me would be worth it for him, but not for me. I would find myself again.

#writing #tom blyth #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosas #tbosbas #the hunger games #youre losing me #drabble #coriolanus snow drabble #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus imagine #imagine #coriolanus snow #angst #president snow

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saturnville · 4 months

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II. Whispers in the Halls

→ pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Lyra Ravenshroud (blackfem oc)

→ tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesim

→ reminder: reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

In the days following the inauguration, the Capitol buzzed with anticipation. Whispers of collaboration between President Snow and Senator Ravenshroud echoed through the grand halls, a symphony of intrigue that played beneath the veneer of political decorum. The sounds of whispers did not fall on deaf ears. She heard them gossipping about her connection to the president, about how they interacted, how their eyes lingered even when their mouths stopped moving. She refused to let it bother her, though. There was no way she would.

Lyra found herself immersed in a whirlwind of meetings and discussions, her advocacy for reform gaining momentum. The Capitol elite watched with a mix of curiosity and skepticism as she navigated the intricate web of politics. She could tell that the fight to get her agenda pushed would be a difficult one. The Capitol was heavy-set in their beliefs that the Districts were full of primitive and uncivilized beasts who were out to set the Capitol ablaze. It was her job to shift their mindset and bridge the gap. The Capitol was supposed to be the people's government. Not the tyrannical force that abused its constituents. Coriolanus, always several steps ahead, observed the unfolding dynamics with a calculating eye

One evening, as the Capitol bathed in the soft glow of artificial lights, Coriolanus sought out Lyra amidst the labyrinthine corridors. He found her in the Senate library, surrounded by the hushed tones of literature and the weight of impending change. In her hands was a 13th-century constitutional document from a nation on the other side of the world. The pages were old and ragged; the sound thick with every turn of the page. His eyebrows raised in astonishment. What was a young woman doing reading the Magna Carta for pleasure?

"Senator Ravenshroud," Coriolanus greeted, his voice cutting through the quiet ambiance. Lyra looked up from the ancient text in her hands, a subtle smile gracing her lips. "May I join you?"

"Of course, President Snow." Lyra gestured to the seat opposite her. Her hands scrambled to make room for him. She gently closed the book and placed it on top of the stack of other constitutional documents. The library, a haven of knowledge and secrets, became the backdrop for a conversation that would shape the course of their alliance.

As Coriolanus took his seat, he couldn't help but be drawn to the warmth in Lyra's eyes. He cleared his throat as he prepared to speak. "Your vision for reform has stirred quite the conversation in the Capitol," he remarked, his tone a careful balance between diplomacy and genuine curiosity. Coriolanus was a smart man. He found himself able to piece together her vision even though she had not fully shared the details. He was, too, a young spectacle with a plan for prosperity.

Lyra's brown eyes met his, and she leaned forward, her voice a measured cadence. "Change is often met with resistance, but it is a necessary catalyst for progress. The Capitol has the potential for a brighter future, one that reflects the needs of all citizens." The rehearsed political jargon would not work with her. She was too smart--street-wise and educationally, to fall for the propaganda and politically insensitive nonsense the Capitol spewed. If President Snow was so insistant on changing the way the government handled business, he'd have to be willing to actually promote change. It was a simple concept, she believed.

Coriolanus found himself captivated by the sincerity in her words. The dance of power, intricate and delicate, continued in the quiet corners of the library. The whispers in the halls were only the prelude to a symphony of change that awaited its crescendo.

The air between them crackled with an unspoken tension, a palpable energy that hovered like a veil. Coriolanus studied Lyra, the way her gaze held unwavering determination, and the tension became a silent agreement—they were players in a game of power, each understanding the moves and countermoves. Aware of the potential moves the other could make and prepared to shift the course of the game if necessary. Her jaw ticked slightly.

Lyra, unfazed by the weight of the room, broke the silence. "President Snow, your support is crucial for these reforms to become a reality. I trust that our collaboration will yield the changes the Capitol so desperately needs." Her tone suggested his lack of choice in the matter, which further sparked his interest. How bold she was, he thought, to make it seem as if her plans were concrete and could not be altered.

Coriolanus leaned back, his fingers steepled together as he regarded her. "Trust, Senator Ravenshroud, is a currency in short supply in the Capitol. What assurances can you offer that your vision won't crumble under the weight of political realities?"

Lyra's smile remained, but there was a glint in her eyes—a spark of defiance. "Assurances in politics are fleeting. That you should know, Mr. President. You were a mentor in the Games, were you not? But my commitment to this cause is unwavering. I believe that even the most entrenched systems can be reshaped with persistence and strategic alliances. That is, if you want the people of Panem to see that their leader is truthful and not a liar. The choice is yours, President Snow."

A sound fell from his lips. The mix of a chuckle and a scoff--she couldn't tell. Lyra was a powerhouse in the making, that he was sure of. She stood strong and did not waver when her ideas were challenged. Anyone else would have quivered at the mere thought of counterarguing with the President of Panem. But Lyra held no fear. It was like she saw himself on his level. And that was intriguing.

The tension between them, the subtle dance of words and glances, became the undercurrent of a partnership that teetered on the edge. As they delved into the intricacies of Lyra's role, the library witnessed a clash of ideologies—a clash that held the promise of change and the allure of something more.

With a quiet sigh, Lyra began to gather her things, "It was nice speaking with you, Mr. President. I look forward to discussing the plan and its implementation with you further. Enjoy your evening."

She was gone before he could reply. And he was left to himself with the whispers in the halls that grew louder and carried the echoes of a future yet to unfold.

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yikesharringrove · 1 year

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Max not knowing how Billy’s dad treats him.

Max not knowing that they moved from California because CPS was trying to get involved after a teacher notified authorities that Billy was regularly coming to school bruised and bloodied.

Max not knowing that Neil was still hitting Billy, just being more careful to avoid visible marks.

Max not knowing that Neil lied to her when he told her they had to move because Billy got in trouble with the cops.

Max not knowing, when she was in the car with Billy, that it really wasn’t his fault they had moved.

Max not knowing why her brother was acting out so much, when really he had decided there was no hope for him surviving this situation.

Max not knowing that when the Mind Flayer killed him, Billy was a little bit glad it wasn’t at his father’s hands.

#angst bc it’s snowing and I’m feeling cozy ☺️#yikes writes #billy hargrove #max mayfield

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noblecorgi · 28 days

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WIP WEDNESDAY

Posted, as is tradition, on Thursday in Australia.

The below excerpt is from Chapter 13 of On The Rocks, lovingly nicknamed Fashion Baz and Disaster Simon.

It is from Simon’s POV.

I pick up my phone, where Baz is tutting impatiently. “Finished cursing my bloodline or some shit? I’m on my way to Gran’s room. Tell me what I have to find.”

“I did, you dolt! The Mary Katrantzou Willow Crystal Flora Midnight dress!!”

“Hey, be nice, I’m saving you from the streets here. Also that means absolutely nothing.” I tell him as I press the card to Gran’s door, shoving it open.

“A draped midi length blue crepe dress with bell sleeves and a crystal encrusted bodice.”

“Still not hearing an actual description. Where am I looking?”

“Crowley you’re an uncultured swine. A blue dress covered in sparklies!”

“There you go! You did it! You spoke normally! Where would it be in her room?”

Thanks to @thewholelemon and @monbons for the tags!

Also thank you to @rimeswithpurple who was my fashion advisor waaaaaaaay back when I started writing this.

This is the dress they are talking about:

@wellbelesbian @whatevertheweather @emjaydellyone @erzbethluna @emeryhall @ebbpettier @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @raenestee @thehoneyedhufflepuff @theearlgreymage @that-disabled-princess @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @ichooseyousnowbaz @ic3-que3n @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettygoododds @philaet0s @pacey-bunce-loves-joey @artsyunderstudy @angelsfalling16 @asocialpessimist @ahbutwhatisaheavenfor @stitchy-queerista @skee3000 @stardustasincocaine @delilahs-artz @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @letraspal @captain-aralias @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @brilla-brilla-estrellita @biellepics @bazisplottingsomething @beastmonstertitan @basiltonbutliketheherb @ninemagicks @nausikaaa @nightimedreamersworld @namistrella @messofthejess @martsonmars

#fanfic #the simon snow trilogy #baz pitch #snowbaz #angst #simon snow #writing #oof ouch owie #current wip #WIP #fan fiction #ao3 fanfic #carry on fanfiction

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suyacho · 1 year

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why would you ever kiss me? // chifuyu matsuno

college parties end up with stupid games, yet a stupid game ends up fulfilling chifuyu’s dream. but was that really worth it

taglist

WARNINGS: gn!reader - college au - hanahaki au - angst - tokyorev anime spoilers - one sided love (chifuyu) - mentions of parties/drinking - reader hurts chifuyu unintentionally & gives him false hope - kazutora x reader - mentions of blood - not beta read i got lazy

note: i unironically started a series on my blog where i write a fic to heather every year, so i might as well carry it on <3 it’s december fourth in my timezoen but </3

“Pretty boring party, isn’t it?” Chifuyu asked, sitting next to you on the couch as you shrugged. “Yeah— not like it’s something new though.” you answered, looking around in the mildly crowded room, an uninterested look plastered on your face.

Not much after, an awkward silence fell and you failed to notice Chifuyu’s nervous twiddling with his fingers, maybe because he wasn’t where your attention was given too.

Chifuyu couldn’t help himself though, he finally had a chance to sit & talk with his crush alone again yet he didn’t know what to say or to do. He couldn’t put proper sentences together, mostly because you made him nervous, so nervous that he didn’t even notice that you weren’t focusing on him.

“Anyways— did you hear, Kazutora is close to being out of jail again.” you broke the silence, a smile plastered on your face for the first time tonight. How could you not when your childhood sweetheart was close to gaining his freedom again?

Oh.

Chifuyu swallowed a breath he didn’t know he was holding, of course you’d still think about Kazutora, he was your first love after all. An annoying tickle crawled up his throat, making him cough, your attention finally turning to him.

“Hey, are you good?” you questioned, slight worry painted on your face. “I’m fine, don’t worry–” he paused, covering his mouth as he coughed up daffodil petals, not wanting you to see them. “So when is he coming back?” Chifuyu continued, not wanting to ruin your happiness whenever you talked about him, pushing his feelings aside once more. Carefully, he put the flower petals into the cup he was holding without you noticing.

Chifuyu watched you speak, none of the words you said registering in his mind while he got lost in his thoughts. Feeling a painful sting in his chest while he watched your face lit up whenever you talked about Kazutora.

Why did things have to be this way? “Sup you guys– shit sorry did I interrupt something?” Nahoya spoke, both of you turning to face him. “Oh no don’t worry, we were just talking, right Chifuyu?” you answered. “Yeah..? Oh yeah we were just talking, what’s up?” Chifuyu mumbled, finally snapping out of his trace.

“Good, Good. We wanted to play, spin the bottle, are you guys in?” Nahoya questioned and you shrugged. “Why not? You in Chifuyu?” you asked and Chifuyu nodded, getting up lastly and throwing his cup away, just like he threw away the painful thoughts for the night.

A game of spin the bottle with you could mean it could land on him, giving him a chance with you, even if it only was for the night. One night to ignore everything else couldn’t hurt him too much now could it? It was just one innocent kiss, he could just move on after this, right?

Spin after spin, the bottle finally was in Chifuyu’s hands. He didn’t expect much, especially since he didn’t have much luck the past few rounds but at least everyone seemed to have a good time, him included.

“Come on man, don’t leave us hanging.” Mikey nudged his side, teasingly glancing over at you and then back at Chifuyu, making him laugh nervously. It was obvious to everyone around Chifuyu that he had a crush on you, he couldn’t even hide it if he wanted it.

“Alright alright, there we go–” Chifuyu laughed, spinning the bottle and watching it, a wave of nervousness washing over when it became slower the closer it got to you.

“Ooooh— that’s interesting.” Nahoya smirked, looking at the bottle that stopped moving, which had landed on you.

“Go get them.” Takemichi playfully nudged Chifuyu and you just shook your head in disappointment, moving closer to Chifuyu.

“Are you okay with this Fuyu?” you asked in a soft tone, gently placing your hand on his cheek. “You look a little pale...” you mumbled, getting comfortable on the floor in front of him.

If Chifuyu’s heart wasn’t racing when the bottle landed on you, it surely was now. There was no way this was happening right? It had to be his dream, him finally having a chance with his crush, his daydreaming becoming real, it all sounded unbelievable. He would be an idiot to let this chance slip.

“I-I’m fine.” Chifuyu mumbled, taking a deep breath before moving closer to you, his hands awkwardly on the ground, not wanting to pass your boundaries. You smiled as you closed your eyes, letting him take the lead and fully trusting him, he was a good friend of yours after all.

Slowly, closing his eyes, Chifuyu moved closer, finally closing the distance or well– attempting too. Mentally cursing at himself when your noses bumped, all because he was so fucking nervous.

A small laugh escaped your lips, your breath ghosting over his lips and Chifuyu swore he could feel the butterflies in his stomach. “Relax Fuyu, it’s just me.” you told him sweetly, grabbing his hands and putting them on your sides. Giving him a moment to relax, before placing your hand back on his cheek and closing the gap between you two for real this time.

Chifuyu’s eyes were wide open in surprise even though it was bound to happen, after processing it he closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, his hands slightly pulling you closer to him as you let him.

Slowly, Chifuyu forgot about everyone else around you two, melting into your touch, his heart was beating so fast, he couldn’t help himself, he felt like was floating on cloud nine, never wanting for this moment to end. Oh how he’d love to be your boyfriend.

Meanwhile it felt like any other kiss you had before, not a single emotion shared with him, it was just like how you kissed everyone else during the spin the bottle game. There was nothing special about it, it was just a kiss for a game after all. No one made you feel anything unless it was Kazutora, the one person your heart belonged too and you never gave up on, even if he broke up with you before getting locked up.

Sadly for Chifuyu, his dream came to an end the second you pulled away, giving him a small smile. A sad whimper left his lips the second he realized it was over while he watched you sit back down across him, it wasn’t going to last forever after all.

Just for tonight, Chifuyu would forget about everything, the hanahaki couldn’t get him, not when he was on cloud nine still from one simple kiss. Just for tonight, he would forget about attempting to move on from you and let himself live in his delusions, without a single worry in the world. He could try to move on and he would after tonight, or well that’s what he told himself.

In the end it wouldn’t hurt anybody but him right? It was almost like digging his own grave…

What Chifuyu didn’t realize was that moving on after that night was nearly impossible. He tried his best, he really did.

It worked when he wasn’t around you, yet as the two of you were close friends, you were almost unavoidable. It wasn’t that Chifuyu minded it, he just wished his feelings would’ve died down by now, but now that was something like a far away dream.

Ever since that kiss, Chifuyu only found himself craving you even more, it was almost like he was yearning to feel your touch again, it was becoming unbearable, only becoming worse once you reunited with your lover.

It was like you two were never apart and it broke Chifuyu, it was a sight for sore eyes. Why couldn’t be him?

Weeks turned to months, and yet Chifuyu was still struggling. It only became harder for him, it was getting hard to breathe properly and be around you, because every single time Kazutora would be there or you’d mention him and it was killing him.

The stupid fucking curse of one sided love, why couldn’t someone pick him for once?

He should’ve known from the moment he started coughing up yellow daffodils petals, yet all he did back then was crack a joke about it, thinking it would be gone in a few months.

Chifuyu had to come up with excuses to avoid you but the truth was his state was only worsening. He wasn’t mad, he wanted you to be happy but why did he have to suffer seeing you happy? Why wouldn’t it be him?

He always daydreamed in his bed, sheets covered in blood stained daffodils. Was it finally going to be over? All of this, like this?

It frustrated him in a way yet he didn’t hold grudges, he just wanted to know one thing.

Why did everyone precious to him pick Kazutora over him? Not even Baji chose to live for him, no instead he chose to die for Kazutora.

Was there even someone out there for him? Someone that would be able to break the curse of a broken heart.

#someone pls understand the flower & color symbolism sobs #chifuyu angst #chifuyu matsuno angst #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #snow writes; angst #heather

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jessybarnes · 1 year

Text

Patience

Title: Patience

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,934

Tags: SMUT, angst, fluff, cockwarming, submissive Bucky, handcuffs, drinking, flirting, pet names, maybe slight degradation if you squint, slight dom/sub, masturbation, fingering (female receiving), clit play, permission to cum, edging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, begging, crying, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and I think that's it.

Written For: @buckybarnesbingo, @sebastianstanbingo, and @anyfandomangstbingo

Square(s) Filled: Y1 - Kink: Cockwarming for Bucky Barnes Bingo // G5 - Submissive!Bucky Barnes for Sebastian Stan Bingo // G2 - Handcuffs for Any Fandom Angst Bingo

Dedicated To: @buckyalpine - I love you, bby ❤️ I really hope you like this 🥺 It's a thank you for all of the amazing content you've put out for us.

Beta(s): Just Grammarly

A/N: I'm so sorry this is bad... I've been so busy these last couple of weeks with Thanksgiving and yesterday was my stepdaughter's birthday and today is my daughter's so I've had basically no time to write. I really hope this isn't terrible, but I'm so sorry if it is. Also, have I already used the below GIF before for one of my fics? Yes. Am I using it again? Yes. Will I probably use it for a future fic? Also, yes. 🤷🏽‍♀️

You sip your drink as you watch Bucky from the bar. Currently, he's smiling at something Steve said, his flesh hand patting the blonde super soldier on the back while his metal one holds his glass of Asgardian mead.

You're not one for parties, but you know it means a lot to Bucky that you're here with him. He's finally rid of the Winter Soldier, the assassin side of him that he's battled to overcome for years, and in true Stark fashion, he threw your boyfriend a party.

It feels like everyone Tony has ever talked to is here, and crowds make you anxious, so the bar is where you'll be until Bucky's ready to go.

Natasha refills your glass and smiles at you warmly, "he's come a long way."

You swirl the amber liquid around a bit before taking a healthy drink.

"He has. I'm so grateful to Wakanda and the Dora Milaje for helping him. It took a while, but we're finally here."

She nods and pours herself a shot, "it's been a long time coming."

"Speaking of coming, I feel like everyone and their mother came to this thing. I don't even know half the people here..."

Nat snorts, "it's Tony, what did you expect?"

"Touché."

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you and you feel yourself starting to unwind.

Finally.

You finish your second drink and motion for Natasha to refill it again. She sets the bottle down and glances over your shoulder shaking her head.

"Looks like one of the secretaries has taken a liking to Barnes."

Well, so much for being able to relax.

You turn in your seat and watch as a pretty blonde touches his arm softly, batting her eyes at him like a giddy schoolgirl.

Bucky doesn't reciprocate, but he doesn't shoo her away either. He looks up at you momentarily and bites his lip before smiling at the girl in front of him. You know he's not really interested in her. He'd never cheat on you. It still doesn't change the fact that he's deliberately flirting with her in front of you though.

Your fingernail taps on the side of your glass as you grow more and more irritated. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and trails her index finger down the front of his shirt.

You grip the glass so hard that your knuckles turn white.

"I'll pay you later, Natasha," you down the rest of your whiskey and slam the glass down on the bar top. "Right now I've got something to take care of."

You push through the crowd and tap the blonde on her shoulder. She whips around and gives you a pointed look, "can I help you?"

"Yeah," you raise an eyebrow, "you can help me by stopping yourself from eye fucking my boyfriend."

Her eyes go wide as she looks from you to Bucky. He shrugs and she huffs before walking away.

You glare up at him and he takes your hand, "oh, come on doll. I was just teasing you."

"Don't doll me, James. You know I don't like seeing you giving someone else that kind of attention."

His free hand wraps around your waist and pulls you into him, "come on, baby. Don't be like that."

Steve chuckles, "I don't know, man. That girl was looking at you like you put the stars in the sky, and it's not like you pushed her away when she touched your chest."

"Who's side are you on, pal?" Bucky narrows his eyes at his best friend.

You've had enough. This party, that girl, Bucky's attitude, all of it, and it stirs a possessiveness inside of you that you haven't felt in a long time.

"It's time to go."

Bucky's eyes go wide, "go? But the party just star-"

"I said it's time to go."

Steve whistles as you drag Bucky toward the elevators, "good luck!"

Once you get him back to your shared bedroom, you shut and flick the lock.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., please tell anyone who comes to our door that we aren't taking visitors."

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N."

Bucky leans against the wall and looks down at you softly, "I swear I didn't mean to upset-"

"Well, you did. Take your clothes off and lay on the bed."

"Y/N, please just let me properly apologize to you."

Your hands move to your hips and you give him a stern look. To anyone who isn't familiar with your relationship, it would be quite comical seeing your tall, muscular, super-soldier boyfriend being so submissive to you. You know he needs this though, to be able to let go and give himself completely to someone he knows won't hurt him. And who are you to deny him that? Especially since you love the rush of taking control sometimes.

"Don't make me ask you again, James."

Bucky bites his lip as he stands up straight. He pulls the red henley he's wearing over his head, and you watch the movement of his well-defined muscles with hooded eyes. He undoes the button on his jeans and slides them and his boxers down to his ankles before stepping out of them.

"I really am sorry, baby"

"I know you are." You gesture behind him, "I've changed my mind. Sit with your back against the headboard."

He turns to walk over to the bed and you groan at the unimpeded view of his ass. Fucking hell, he's perfect.

He settles on the comforter and looks at you with curious, blue eyes. You don't say anything to him as you walk into the closet. Moments later you return with two pairs of silver handcuffs dangling from your fingertips and you watch his cock twitch in interest.

"Y/N, I don't see how this is a punishment," he drawls.

You smirk and cuff each of his hands to the small metal hoops that jut out from the side of the headboard. These were no ordinary handcuffs either, they were made with raw vibrainium which means he can't get out of them easily.

"Trust me," you step back and reach behind you to pull the zipper on the back of your dress, "you'll see."

Bucky watches as the little black dress falls to the floor and pools around your feet, his eyes darkening with want.

"God, you're so damn gorgeous, baby."

You smirk, "and it's too bad you won't get to touch me." You smooth your hands over your soft skin, your fingertips barely catching your nipples making you gasp. "I was really looking forward to those big, strong hands all over me, Buck."

He groans and watches you take off your bra and panties, "come on, pretty girl. Please let me touch you...please?"

You climb on the bed and straddle his chest, his cock beginning to leak in anticipation of your touch. You ignore the urge to and slide two of your fingers between your soaked folds instead.

"Mmm, you should have thought of that before ... fuck ... before you flirted with that secretary.

He watches you circle your clit slowly, his eyes nearly black now as he tugs harder at the cuffs.

"Baby... fuck, baby please!"

"Shit, I'm so wet for you, Bucky...feels so good..."

You bring your glistening fingers to your lips and close your mouth around them, licking them clean of your arousal. Bucky whines and raises his hips in frustration.

"Let me have a taste, please baby? Please! I'm so sorry for even looking at her... God, please...need you so bad..."

You tilt your head to the side and look down at him. His eyes are desperate and you almost give in and undo the handcuffs.

Almost.

"Aww, do you need a taste? Do you want me to sit on your face, baby boy?"

Your tone is teetering the line of sincere and condescending, and it makes another bead of precum spill from the head of his cock. Your words alone are making him fall apart. You've never been this dominant with him and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it.

"...please."

It's merely a whisper, but you hear him nonetheless and decide to take a little mercy on him.

"Lay on your back for me, baby."

Bucky scoots down, his arms suspended slightly upward and out to the side as he lays flat. You move so your legs are on either side of his head and hover your dripping pussy over his lips.

"Since you love using that pretty mouth to tease and flirt so much, why don't you put it to good use and make me cum. Maybe if you do a good job I'll let you fuck me."

Bucky licks his lips, "I'll make you feel real good, doll. Please... just please let me taste you..."

You lower yourself down to his mouth and he immediately begins ravishing you. His tongue skillfully slides between your folds, alternating from your hole to your clit making you moan.

He's always been so good at this. Taking you apart over and over again until you're a shaking, quivering mess. But this? The way he's delving his tongue into your dripping cunt, devouring you as if he needs you to survive, it's another side of him you've never seen before and it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced with him.

"Fuck... yeah, baby just like that."

Bucky groans and moves back to your clit, sucking it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His untouched cock is leaking profusely now. He's determined, desperate to feel you cum, desperate to make you fall over the edge and taste you.

It isn't long until the familiar coil begins to ignite and your legs start to shake from the amount of pleasure your boyfriend is bringing you. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling it as your hips rock against his mouth.

"Oh, Bucky! Don't stop, baby! Don't you fucking stop... oh, my god...fuck, you're gonna make me cum!"

He moves his tongue faster, tugging at the cuffs and wishing he could grip your luscious thighs.

Your eyes flutter closed and you throw your head back as your orgasm shoots through you like a bolt of lightning. Bucky doesn't stop, and you let him work you through your high until it becomes too much. Finally, you climb off of him and lay on the bed at his side, moving your fingertips up and down his thigh slowly while he breathes heavily.

"Did such a good job for me, baby. You made me cum so hard."

Bucky turns to look at you, "does that mean I can fuck you now?"

You bite your lip and just barely graze his thick shaft.

"Oh, sweetheart, you didn't think it would be this easy, did you? You thought giving me one orgasm would warrant forgiveness for deliberately flirting with someone else in front of me?"

Bucky gasps and whines from your touch, his cock twitching in need.

"Doll, p-please...," his eyes shine with tears and his fists clench and unclench, "I'll never do it again, I promise! Please I...I need you so bad...so bad, baby..."

You kiss his lips and shush him, before carefully straddling his hips. His eyes are wide and needy as he looks up at you, and your heart thuds hard against your ribcage. He's so fucking beautiful like this. All spread out for you. Needy and begging for your touch.

Bucky is so good at being in control when you need him to, but at times like this, he's the prettiest submissive you've ever seen.

"Sit back up for me, honey. I'm going to give you a reward, okay?"

He nods and scoots back up so his back is against the headboard again. He watches as you rise on your knees and reach behind you. His eyes roll back into his head as you wrap your fingers around his cock, and you immediately pull them away.

"Ah, ah, ah...keep those eyes on me, baby."

Bucky nods and you curl your fingers around him again before lining him up with your entrance. You're so wet that you don't even need him to prep you.

Ever so slowly, you sink down on his thick, hard cock. Bucky's so worked up that you can feel him throbbing as you take him to the hilt.

"You're so fucking big, baby. Mmm, you fill me up so well. Does this feel good, sweetheart?"

He shudders and resists the urge to raise his hips so he'll go deeper, "so good...feels so good."

"Is this what you wanted, honey?"

Bucky swallows thickly and lets out a shaky breath.

"Wanna...wanna feel you ride me. Please...please just wanna cum for you."

You cradle his face in your hand and brush the pad of your thumb over his stubble, "only good boys get what they ask for, baby. Besides, I love feeling you just like this. So deep inside me, the head of your pretty cock kissing my cervix, you make me feel so full."

Bucky whimpers and you lean forward to kiss him again, your mouth moving against his slow and sweet.

He kisses you fiercely and you reciprocate with just as much fervor. Bucky could stay like this forever, just drowning in the way you feel around him, in your touch, and your taste.

You pull away and smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, "if I uncuff one of your hands, are you going to be good for me?"

The thought of being able to touch you makes his eyes fill with tears as he nods enthusiastically.

"If you can be a good boy for me I'll ride you, baby."

You reach for the handcuff keys on the bedside table and uncuff his metal hand.

"Rub my clit, baby boy. Make me cum around your cock."

Bucky reaches down to where the two of you are joined and touches the cool metal of his thumb to your bundle of nerves. You gasp at the contrast of temperatures as he begins making tight circles.

"Fuck, Bucky..."

You rock your hips slightly back and forth, cupping your breasts as hot sparks of arousal shoot through you. A low rumble sounds in Bucky’s chest when he feels you clench around his cock, and he has to force himself not to cum.

"God, baby...can feel you squeezing me. Wanna watch you come undone with my cock buried inside of you. Please, princess? Please come for me..."

The way he's begging for you, the feeling of the smooth metal of his gold and black thumb moving over your clit, and how fucking good it feels to have his thick cock stretch you open sends you falling over the edge for a second time. His name tumbles past your lips over and over and spots dance in your vision as you cum hard for him.

You're both panting when you finally open your eyes again. Bucky's shaking, his eyes are still wide and shining as he silently begs for release and you finally, finally give in to him and plant your palms on his chest.

"You've been such a good boy for me, honey. I'm gonna ride this beautiful cock and I want you to tell me how good it feels, but you can't close your eyes. I want you to look at me when you cum."

You know he's not going to last long. Not when you've worked him up this much, so you don't bother starting slow. You move up and down at a steady pace, listening to his needy, desperate moans.

His metal hand grips your hip and helps to guide you as you start to go faster, and you can feel how close he is, his cock throbbing inside of you as his lips part in a silent scream.

"Oh, my god, babydoll... feels so good... m'so close! Gonna cum so hard for you, pretty girl. Please! Please am I allowed to cum? Can't hold it anymore...s'too much...feels too good... please ... please!"

You brush away his tears and lean down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss.

"Fill me up, baby boy. Come on, let go for me. Show me, sweetheart."

Bucky slams you down on his cock and holds you in place as he groans loudly into your neck. His orgasm crashing into him like a tsunami as he nearly sobs in ecstasy.

You pepper kisses all over his face and shush him as he shakes in your arms, sweet nothings falling from your lips as he comes down from his high. Eventually, you move to get up, but he whines and pulls you closer to him.

"I need to uncuff your other hand, honey."

"But I wanna stay inside you...please? Just wanna feel close to you."

Your eyes soften and you free his flesh hand, rubbing his wrist gently.

"We can stay like this as long as you need to, Buck. I'm not going anywhere."

He moves so you're both on your sides and slides his softening cock back inside of you gently. He sighs happily and buries his face in your neck.

"Love you, princess... love you so much," he whispers sleepily.

You kiss his forehead and rub his back tenderly, "I love you too, baby. Close those pretty eyes and sleep for me, okay? I'll be here when you wake up."

It isn't long until you feel his breathing even out, and you continue to hold him close as sleep begins to take you too.

You're happy and safe inside the embrace of the love of your life.

You're home.

Tagging: @buckyalpine @madashatters18 @sarahrogersevans @chrisevansdaughter @nerdygingermoose88 @brandyywar

1K notes · View notes

maevesheart · 4 months

Text

FOOLS - PART II

CORIOLANUS SNOW X CAPITOL!READER

note: continuing to use the mars family name for reader, but different storyline than tolerate it. i recommend listening to fleetwood mac’s “storms” while reading :)

PART I // PART II // PART III

summary: only fools would fall for coriolanus snow, and you’re the biggest fool of them all.

wc: 7.5k (she’s a long one)

tw: smut, pet names, curse words

Coriolanus had kept his promise, and that next morning, you awoke to the sounds of Coryo’s small snores and the chirping of birds outside.

You raked your nails through his soft curls, now a little messy from his deep slumber. He lightly stirred, and you giggled, he was so pretty with half his face smashed into your pillow, back to the ceiling and one arm tucked securely around your waist. You could really get used to this.

“A photo will last longer,” Coryo’s hoarse voice cuts through the silence, catching you staring at him. “You’re just so pretty,” you smile, “how could I not stare?”

He gives your hip a tight squeeze, causing you to giggle.

“Goodmorning, gorgeous,” he murmurs, sitting up and placing a kiss on your temple.

“Goodmorning,” you chirp back, watching as he rises from the bed, removing his top. He throws it to the floor, and then pulls off his socks, going for his pants next.

“Woah, steady tiger!” you joke, earning a chuckle from him.

“Just going to shower. Would love if you’d join me,” he smirks, lust dripping from his words.

“Normally you know I wouldn’t decline, but we have to be down at the Academy at 9… or well, you have to be at the Academy…” your situation still hadn’t completely settled yet, you were disappointed to be taken out of the competition, but you couldn’t fathom meeting an end like Arachne’s.

Coryo nods, “I’m sorry, darling. I’ll win for you,” he winks, opening your en-suite bathroom door and stepping into the room.

You decide you’ll go get him a clean uniform from your elder brother, Perseus’s, room; he graduated two years ago, so his uniform was still in crisp condition, and he and Coryo shared the same muscular, broad frame.

Percy was a Major in the Peacekeepers, currently probably keeping people in line in District 1. He hadn’t been home since his graduation two years ago, except for the brief visits during the holidays or someone’s birthday. Duty calls, as your father would proudly claim when describing Percy.

It was still early, but you knew that your father was awake, no doubt. Probably sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and the newspaper in his hands.

Luckily for you, Percy’s room was directly across the hallway from yours, a straight-shot.

You scurried across, shuffling around in his closet, the bright red uniform sticking out compared to his rather black and blue wardrobe.

Percy was a tad bit taller than Coryo, but it would do for one day. Coryo didn’t have time to go home, and if he walked down wearing an Academy uniform, your father was sure to believe he arrived this morning. He wouldn’t be too pleased knowing he spent the night.

You pulled the uniform off its respected hanger, took a pair of socks, and then some dress shoes from the floor of his closet. Percy could spare a pair, after all, he had about 20 pairs of identical shoes.

You opened his door, ready to exit the room, looking up to meet the suspicious eyes of your older sister, Persephone.

Where you and Percy were close and told each other almost everything, you and Persephone were distant and hardly trusted each other. Never since she ratted you out years ago for hiding a bottle of posca under your bed.

“Why were you in Percy’s room?” she questions, words like daggers.

You roll your eyes, but fear begins to creep into your body.

You have the uniform in your arm which is hidden by Percy’s door, the only thing visible are the extra pair of dress shoes, hanging from your hand.

“Why do you have his shoes?” she sneers, finally noticing the footwear.

You ignore her, finally pushing past, the uniform meeting her gaze. Her eyes narrow, trying to connect the dots on why you’d need a male’s Academy Uniform.

“I’m going to cut up the fabric and make some bows, you know I need some new ones. And I’m going to mail the shoes to Percy, he wrote to me requesting them,” the lies were mediocre, at best. You had more than enough money to go out and buy some new bows, and you have Avoxes who could easily make them for you. For the shoes, Percy didn’t wear shoes other than the ones that paired with his uniform, but Persephone never paid enough attention to him to know that.

You get lucky, and Persephone doesn’t question you further, nose up in the air as she continues down the hall, the sound of her loafers echoing off the walls as she continues down the hall.

Finally back in the safety of your four walls, you let out a sigh of relief, throwing the clothing onto the now made bed, and the shoes onto the floor.

The Avoxes must have come in while you were gone. You were suddenly very thankful that they couldn’t talk, meaning they wouldn’t be able to snitch.

You hear the shower turn off, the cease of the sound of water. Coryo comes out next, just a towel tied around his waist. You have to keep yourself back from drooling, watching water droplets fall down his chest.

His hand rakes through his hair, his curls dripping water onto your expensive rug.

“I got you one of Percy’s old uniforms, and some shoes,” you explain, bashfully, feeling his eyes all over your body.

You were dressed in your silk pajamas from last night, a rose-pink tank top and little shorts, suddenly feeling very exposed under Coryo’s gaze.

“Quick, dress. Cook made breakfast, you can get something before you have to leave for the Academy,” you usher him towards the outfit, picking up his clothing from before, quickly bringing them to the laundry basket in your closet.

“I’ll have them washed and bring them to you later, and don’t worry about returning the uniform or shoes,” you throw a smile over your shoulder at him, flipping through your clothing options for the day.

“Y/N, I will return them,” he shakes his head. You know he hates to accept help, but you love him. And when you love someone, you help them.

“Seriously, Coryo. Percy is gone, and he’s graduated, so it's not like he needs it anyways. He has plenty of shoes, he won’t miss one pair,”

Coryo looks down at the shoes, last season's best design, straight out of the box it seems. To most people, your family's money would be intimidating, but not to Coriolanus. He strived to be able to support you the way your father does, to be able to buy you the things that your father buys you now.

Not willing to press the issue further, he pulls on the outfit, fitting relatively perfect except for the extra length in the sleeves and pants, but no one will notice. He slips on the fresh socks and Percy’s fine shoes, fitting like a glove.

You pull on a simple pair of white form-fitting pants, a white long-sleeve blouse that has a large bow in the front, and some dark navy-blue pumps that accentuate your long legs.

Coryo’s eyes take over your now more conservatively-dressed body, pausing to stare at the way the slightly-too-tight pants hug the curves of your ass perfectly, and the top of your cleavage that peeks out in the opening of the bow.

“Alright, you go down first, that way my father won’t assume you’ve been up here this whole time,”

Coryo smirks while nodding, he wants everyone to know you’re his, but the public displays will have to wait until you’re out of your penthouse.

Coryo leaves, giving you a quick kiss to your lips before exiting.

After a few seconds, you follow suite, hearing the conversation flowing from the kitchen.

Coryo is standing next to the kitchen table when you enter, hand on his chest as he laughs over one of your fathers (probably not very funny) jokes.

You walk over, placing your hand on the outside of Coryo’s arm, leaning down to peck your father’s cheek.

“Goodmorning, shining star. Did you sleep well?” he asks, taking a quick sip from his cup of coffee.

“Always do, daddy. Good morning to you as well, Coriolanus,” you smile, catching the glint in Coryo’s eye as he nods back to you.

“Coriolanus here was just telling us how he stopped by say good morning, darling. How caring,” your mother swoons, placing her hands over her heart.

“That is very considerate, thank you,” you look back to him, hand still on his arm.

Persephone, sat in between your mother and father, looks down to where the two of you are touching, eyes flitting down to see Percy’s old shoes on Coriolanus’s feet, and connecting the dots as to why you really needed his old uniform.

She catches your eye, and shakes her head, and you know you’re caught. But you’re not scared of her, not anymore. You slightly lift your head, showing your defiance.

“Alright, I’m going to run some errands and go find a dress for the opera later, daddy,”

“Okay, darling. Once again, it was splendid to see you, young Snow.”

Coriolanus returns the compliment, following you as you head for the front coat closet, retrieving your old fox fur coat, the sharp orange contrasting with the dark blue in your shoes. You throw your navy bag over your shoulder and guester for Coryo to exit first, extending your hand to the door.

“Y/N!” Persephone is marching down the hall. You urge Coryo to continue, assuring him that you’ll be right behind him.

“Are you mad?” she sneers, face mere inches away from your own.

“What are you on about now, Persephone?” you roll your eyes, ready to escape from your neurotic sister.

“I will play dumb this one time, Y/N. But I know the Snow family just as well as you do. And Coriolanus Snow is a cunning, deceitful boy. Only a fool would allow themselves to fall for him, let alone help him.” she shook her head, placing a hand tenderly on your shoulder.

“Don’t be a fool, Y/N,”

You shoved her hand away, taking a step back away from her.

“You just don’t know him the way I do, Persephone. Mind your own business.”

With that, you turned on your heel, slamming the front door behind you.

The bell rings out as you enter Fabricia Whatnot’s shop, Tigris quickly pulling you into her arms.

You had asked her to design your dress, knowing there was no one more suited for the job than Tigris Snow.

“Oh, Y/N, you are just going to play so beautifully! I’ve been so excited all week, telling all the clients how lucky I am to know the artist herself!”

You blushed, shaking your head. “You flatter me,”

She tuts, pulling you over to the small platform, gesturing for you to stand up on it, and slip on the dress hanging in front of the mirror.

It was beautiful, long and a deep scarlet red. It was sleeveless, and a ballgown, large billows of fabric falling out from the cinched waist. A large bow sat at the back, right on your waist and above your bum, the tails of the bow flowing down to the floor, creating a train. Bows were your signature touch on every item you wore, you made sure of it.

“Oh, Tigris,” you murmured as she helped you step into the dress, pulling it up your perfectly sculpted curves.

She smiled, zipping up the backs, the hidden corset within the dress hugging you tight, accentuating your hips and waist. It billowed out perfectly, showcasing your cleavage strategically, leaving enough to the imagination while showing off what you were assessed with. The dress glimmered in the bright lights of the shop, making you shine like a star.

Once she was satisfied with her work, Tigris pulled back, hands covering her mouth in awe.

“You look like a princess,” she complimented, watching you twist and turn in the mirror, smiling as you took yourself in.

“You are fabulous, Tigris. This dress is everything I wanted and more,” you pull her in for a hug, endless thanks falling from your lips.

She helps you out of the design, and packs it into a gown bag for you to bring home.

As you pay for the dress, she makes light conversation, asking, “Have you seen Coryo recently? He disappeared last night to check on Lucy Gray and hasn’t returned home since.”

You feel like you’ve been hit by a rebel bomb when the words leave her mouth, brain failing to place the pieces together.

Did he see her before he came to you? Or did he once again sneak from your bed to visit his pitiful songbird?

You composed yourself, not willing to be embarrassed in front of his cousin.

“I walked him to the Academy this morning, and then made my way over here. He seemed perfectly normal,” you stated, when deep down you wanted to rip all of the curls off of his perfect head.

Tigris sighs in relief, handing you the gown bag.

“I’ll see you later. You’ll perform wonderfully, I know it,” you smile at her compliment, bidding goodbye, while a silent fire rages within your belly.

The ride home is short, and soon you’re hanging up the marvelous dress in your walk-in closet, bare feet against the cold marble tiles.

For your recital, you had decided on one simply instrumental piece, and then one where you sang. You were nervous, though you had been practicing for ages. You had sang while playing at a few parties, but when you were a guest, people never paying much to you. This time, all the attention would be on you, and you had to make sure this performance was perfect.

Usually in the Capitol, the only successful singers were those who sang in the opera, but you had a rich and smooth voice, one that many would die for. The original song you had picked to sing was a classic, one that everyone would be expecting and familiar with.

But you now decided that you wanted to stand out, give them something they aren’t expecting. It would either be detrimental or skyrocketing, and you were choosing to believe it would be the latter.

You tried to calm your ever-present nerves, smoothing your hands onto the front of your gorgeous dress, toying with the massive sapphire stones on your ears. A matching necklace hung deep from your neck, into your cleavage. They were your mothers, a token of pure beauty and wisdom, something you were hoping would come to you.

You needed to calm down. Stress never mixed well with your mind. You had decided on a song; it was from the old world. Something all the guests sitting before you had most likely never heard. It was soulful, slow, and emotional. You hoped you would pull a few heartstrings, maybe get some audience members to cry. With your voice, nothing was unlikely.

Coriolanus had been rushing around backstage for the past few minutes, wanting to steal you for a few moments alone. He wanted to wish you luck, not having seen you since you walked him to the Academy days ago.

He felt like you were avoiding him, the Avoxes not letting him into your home, you only speaking to Clemmie and Sejanus at school…he was confused about what he could have possibly done, questioning Tigris and Sejanus, but neither could decipher it themselves.

He had asked various staff members where you were, all giving different answers. It was like you told them not to tell him where you were.

Finally, he rounded a corner, eyes settling on your back.

He gawked at the dress, practically eye-fucking you. Your hair was in long curls down your back, and as you turned to face him, he saw a deep red color on your lips, matching the shade of your dress.

The last person you wanted to see was Coriolanus, but as your eyes settle on his piercing blue ones, you know you’re in for it.

You stay put, unwavering as he strides up to you, eating you up with his eyes.

“You are the most marvelous thing I have ever seen,” he compliments, going in for a kiss, expectant lips meeting your cold cheek.

He is taken aback, confidence slightly faltering as you cross your arms against your chest, eyes on his – or should you say Percy’s – shoes, the ones you had given him before you knew him as the traitor he is.

He watched as you looked in every direction but his, trying your hardest not to give into his gaze.

He takes your face in his hands, moving your head so your eyes meet his, anger burning in the back of your pupils. You had been pushing yourself away from him the past few days, as it was clear Lucy Gray demanded all his time and attention.

“Not with your songbird?” you sneer out, venom seeping from your words. Coriolanus’s eyes narrow as he realizes that this is what the avoidance has been about.

“Darling, I already told you that she means nothing to me. Less than nothing, she is district. I am to take care of her if she is supposed to win, don’t let it get to you,” he is soft with his words, care laced within every consonance.

You want to believe him, you really do, but it seems his words don’t match up with his actions.

“Once you can show me you truly mean your words, I will listen. Besides, I think it’s time for you to take your seat, Mr. Snow. The show is about to start.”

Coryo is raging as he makes his way back to the box seats you provided him, sitting back in the seat between Grandma’am and your mother. Your words were replaying in his mind, not understanding how you couldn’t see that you were all he wanted. Not some flamboyant little girl from District 12.

He knew, deep down, that Lucy Gray was becoming important to him. He tried to deny it, but he couldn’t. The more time he spent with her, he began to sympathize with her, trying to ease her pain as much as possible.

The thick, dark green curtains covering the ornate stage pulled back, revealing a black glossy grand piano, likely a fortune, and you sat on the adjacent bench, your dress billowing out from your back. It was gorgeous. Your mother turned to compliment Tigris’s work, as well did Persephone. It was the most beautiful dress that had ever been crafted in Panem.

Coriolanus watched with adoration as your fingers delicately danced across the black and white keys of the piano, playing the original piece perfectly. The audience watched in awe, a beautiful girl playing a piano even more beautifully. It was captivating, how someone so gentle and caring could play such a dramatic piece, a song with such emotion that it brought tears to many people’s eyes. You chose this particular piece on purpose, it was one that Coriolanus had asked for you to write years ago, when the two of you were just close friends who messed around in your family’s music room.

He froze still, the notes going straight to his nervous system, setting him into overdrive. You were performing for him, and he couldn’t decide if it was the most romantic thing he had ever seen, or the most infuriating. You had just been chastising him, but now you were playing his song, the one you wrote for him.

The song became fast, striking. People would be talking about this piece for weeks, it would be drilled into young students' minds the next time they sat on a similar bench. On the program they had given everyone when they entered, named the song “A Snow Waltz”. You could not have been more obvious if you tried, and the idea of having a song written and named after him sent Coriolanus spiraling, wanting to kiss the sense out of you that very moment.

He sat in disbelief as the elaborate tune turned into something slower, something more calculated.

Then you began to sing, and he knew he was done for.

“Every night that goes between, I feel a little less,”

The audience sat upright, eyes wide as they ingested your words, ones that Coriolanus knew you had pored over for weeks, trying to find the most fitting song for your relationship. And based on the first two lines, he wasn’t feeling overly pleased with your song of choice.

“As you slowly go away from me, this is only another test,”

And then he understood. This isn't a love ballad. You weren’t professing your love for him in the most public way possible… you were claiming it back.

“Every night you do not come, your softness fades away,”

The emotion in your voice is strong and compelling, anyone who is listening can sense the sorrow in your words, the pain you must have endured.

Coriolanus now knows that he has caused this pain. He is the reason for the best performance the Capitol has seen in a long time.

“Is there anything left to say? Every hour of fear I spend, my body tries to cry, living through each empty night, a deadly call inside,”

He looks around, engrossed faces all around him. Grandma’am’s eyes are glossed over, and Tigris is dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. Your father is holding your mother’s hand, tight. Sejanus is upright, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“I haven’t felt this way I feel, since many a years ago. But in those years and the lifetime passed, I did not deal with you, I know.”

Your voice ceases, a lovely piano piece following your words, giving Coryo a chance to finally digest what he’s just heard. You’re professing great fondness for someone, admitting that the relationship is fading away, running its course.

Your voice faintly picks back up, adding in a few lyrics to compliment the complex piano piece.

“She said, ‘Every night he will break your heart’, I should’ve known from the first, I’d be the broken hearted”

Coryo’s chest is tight. You look up and out to the crowd, eyes falling onto his. He sees the emotion, the sadness. He knows that it’s his fault, and could’ve prevented it.

“I loved you from the start, and now not all the prayers in the world, could save us, oh save us,”

The piano begins to slightly fade, and you stand from the bench, dress flowing as you make your way to the middle of the stage, bowing for the now standing and cheering audience, bouquets of flowers thrown to your feet.

As you take your bow, your eyes are back on him, but this time, his hold the emotion.

The show was a success, a vibrant grin across your beautiful face as you flitted around to greet all the guests. Various old family friends, distant relatives, even some of your professors at the Academy.

After the performance, your parents find you first, kisses pressed to your cheek, and comforting hugs as tears slip from your mother’s eyes.

“Panem hasn’t seen talent like yours in forever, darling.” Your father speaks, pride sparkling behind his eyes, bearing the same color as your own.

You blush, nodding at his words, accepting his compliment.

You break from them, finding the Plinth’s next. Sejanus gives you a kiss on each cheek, rambling about how your talent must have been given to you from the stars above.

You giggle, letting him and his mother rain down on you with millions of compliments, all more enchanting than the last.

“Thank you for being here, Mr. And Mrs. Plinth. It means so much,” you nod, taking Mrs. Plinth’s hands into yours.

“Darling, believe me when I say you’ve just done something the Capitol hasn’t seen in decades. You will be more talk than the games, that’s for sure,”

And with a kiss to your temple, Serbo Plinth walks away, Sejanus and his mother trailing.

The room that all the guests were brought in after was a large room; high ceilings, a plush (likely expensive) rug, rows of tables with regal chairs, and various portraits of Panem’s most prominent leaders and talents up on the walls.

You spotted the portrait of your father and Serbo Plinth easily, it was the largest in the room, other than the Presidential portrait. It was commissioned after the war, to show how your father and Mr. Plinth had been the greatest allies throughout the war, proving true to the president.

You were sat at the center table, where everyone could come over to speak to you, or watch as you ate. Your fathers portrait hung above your seat, a silent expression of how the most successful in Panem continued to produce the best, and only the best.

You looked at who would be sitting next to you, your father on your left, and Sejanus on your right. You were happy with that, you would speak to Sejanus through dinner, ask him how the games were going.

You hadn’t been paying much attention to the mentorships after your dismissal, hearing bits and pieces from Clemensia during school. They had a small meeting, gathering information about their respective tribute.

Excusing yourself quickly, despite the table still being empty as the guests continued to make conversation, you slipped through the crowds and went to the ladies room.

You touched up on your makeup, and quickly returned back to the table. To your surprise, Coryo was now sitting in the seat that was labeled for Sejanus.

You tried your hardest to act nonchalant as you sat back down, your father acknowledging your presence was a small pat on the knee, and then he turned back to Mr Plinth on his other side. Sejanus was now across the table from you, all sorts of different food items piled high on his fine china plate.

Coryo’s eyes were burning into the side of your face, you could feel his harsh gaze. In all honesty, you were quite scared to turn to him. Your song was compassionate, and your deliverance of it was in the most public possible way. The best from the Capitol watching it in person, and everyone through the districts watching it on the soon-to-be Hunger Games broadcasting screens.

You were the Gem of Panem, their princess. This had secured your place in society, you had established yourself among the most brilliant, the commanders, the leaders. You were proud of yourself.

Criolanus stood from the table, going to gather food onto his plate. You hoped he would gather lots; it was all paid for by your father, and Coriolanus needed to eat. You always worried about him, even if you weren’t happy with him.

He returned, plate piled up, like you hoped, and you accidentally slipped a small smile, a tiny corner of your mouth going up in happiness.

Coryo caught it. He was always able to catch even the faintest changes in your expressions and demeanor.

Once he had taken his seat, and loud conversation engulfed the room, you finally spoke.

“I thought Sejanus was meant to be sat there,” you take a small bite of steamed carrots.

“Last minute change, I suppose,” Coryo lightly shrugs his shoulders, turning his head to get a better look at you.

“Mhm,” you breathe out, blush tickling your cheeks ever so lightly.

“You played beautifully out there. And your voice, well, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. Why didn’t you tell me you’d be singing?” Is that… hurt behind his words? You turn to look at him, eyes finally meeting, and you swear you see the faintest stain of tear tracks on his cheeks, filling your stomach with fulfillment.

“Well, you’d been too busy. I didn’t want to burden you while you save your songbird,” you try your hardest to mask the words, but you know he can hear the venom and jealousy peeking out from behind them.

He doesn’t look smug, no, he looks hurt. Extremely hurt.

“Y/N,” he breathes out, placing his barely used fork onto the table.

“I know you visited her the night that you came to me.” You whisper, composure starting to crumble.

All he does is nod, proving your accusation to be true. You lightly slouch at his silence, so that was his response? He has nothing else to say? “Is that all you have to say?” you whisper, you knew if you tried to speak any louder your voice would crack, giving your emotion away.

“What is there to say, Y/N? You played our song up there, The Snow Waltz. You sang a song about our relationship, one where the words insinuated that you had once loved me but my betrayal was too strong. Help me understand you, Y/N, how could I possibly respond to that?” He was closer to you now, downcast faces mere inches away.

To any onlooker, you two would look like a few teenagers who had deep set feelings for each other, feelings that must be voiced at that very second.

You had a feeling that he would be upset with your song choices, that it would hit him deep in the chest, give him the same feeling that he had recently been giving you.

“I played your song because I love you. And then I sang that song because I want you to know that I don’t feel loved by you.”

Coriolanus feels as if a blow has gone straight to his gut, knife clattering as he accidentally drops it on the table.

His eyes are hard, unreadable. But they’re glossy, the only part that is giving him away. You read him better than any other person, and he knows this.

He stands up, chair screeching as it pushes out behind him. You watch with wide eyes, staring up at him. He spares you one last solemn look, a slight shake of his head, before he is storming off, down the isles of tables and through hundreds of guests, straight to the doors.

You feel possessed, your feet pulling you up and forcing you after him, feeling as if they have a mind of their own. Everyone is silenced now, eyes following your every move. The young, beautiful, and talented Mars girl chasing the abrasive, orphaned, tarnished Snow boy.

“Fool,” Persephone mutters under her breath, shaking her head.

You find Coryo in the empty lobby, no one but you and him.

He is pacing, hands in his hair, mumbles of inaudible words spilling from his perfect lips, you want to scream at him. Scream at him for showing up before the performance, scream at him for leaving your dinner. You want to scream at him for leaving your bed to see Lucy Gray, for telling you he loves you and then going and proving to do the opposite.

“Coriolanus,” you announce your presence, slow steps up to his brooding figure as he ceases his pacing, eyebrows twisting together.

He first ignores you, going and taking a seat on the golden bench beside the entrance for the auditorium.

You walk over, perching next to him. He timidly reaches a hand out, laying it onto the red dress, smoothing down the thick material.

“You assume the worst in me, Y/N.” he shakes his head, light amusement behind his words.

“I already told you what I believe, Coriolanus. You tell me beautiful words, give me special moments. But you then contradict yourself, going back to her. I know you need to win the prize, I know, I know, but I love you. And you’re supposed to love me. And when you love someone, you don’t abandon them for another person,” tears brim on your eyes, threatening to spill out and ruin your flawless makeup.

“I love you, more than anything in the entire planet, Y/N. Can’t you see that I am helping Lucy Gray to win because that prize ensures I can give us the future that we deserve. The future you deserve…I want to give that to you. To be able to continue to live your life as luxuriously as you do now. Dresses, jewelry, pianos. Anything you would ever want.” His voice is soft, wavering.

You stare at him, lips slightly parted, not expecting him to voice his deepest insecurities.

“I don’t care about all those things, Croyo…” you murmur, grabbing his hands in his lap.

“Darling, I just watched you play the most highly acclaimed piano concert that Panem has seen in decades. You are a spectacle, a performer. You love your piano, and your dresses, and all the things that make you pretty, the things that make you shine. You are meant to be a star.” his voice drips with desperation, embarrassment. He thinks the life he lives now isn’t good enough for you.

“I need Lucy Gray to win so that I can give you the life full of luxury that you deserve. So that I can buy you a new piano every year, a new ruby ring every birthday. Darling, it’s all for you.” his hands come up, cupping your face. They are soft, rubbing your skin.

“Love me, Coriolanus. Show me that you can.”

With that, he grips your jaw, hard, and yanks you into him, a small whimper falling from your lips. He is rough, pent up anger finally spilling out. “I love you,” he murmurs out, kissing your chin. “I love you,” he’s now on your neck, sucking as hard as he can, being sure to leave marks. “I love you, more than anyone else,”

He’s standing, pulling you up with him, his hands moving down to your biceps, lips back on top of yours, pulling you into the coat room.

He locks the door behind you two, pressing you against it.

His leg slotted between yours, keeping you pressed tight against the doorframe. His lips continued their vicious attack against your neck and collarbones, tongue gliding across the prominent bone.

You watched as he slowly trailed further down your body, getting onto his knees. He pulled back from your skin, watched from below as you panted, trying to catch your breath. With a final smirk, he flipped up your skirt and disappeared under the hem, hiking one of your knees over his shoulder.

Your breath hitched as you felt his hot breath over your clothed pussy, head falling back against the mahogany as he trailed a calloused finger over the red lace, cock twitching at the sound of your light moan.

His fingers toy with the lace, before ripping it off your legs, you hear the lingerie tear.

“Coryoooo,” you whine, upset that he just ruined your brand new panties.

“I’ll get you some new ones, darling,” he promises, throwing the disheveled garment to some corner of the closet. He grins, knowing some Avox will find the star performers panties sometime later tonight, and know she was fucked in the coat closet.

Before you have time to prepare yourself, Coryo is licking a strip up your folds, and then his mouth is sucking on your bud, whimpers falling from your lips, your hands digging into the wooden walls of the room.

Your head is thrown back in pleasure, Coryo lapping you up, his lips ravenging you at an unbearable speed, pressure begging to brew in your stomach.

He knows the easiest way to get you undone is to give you head, and lucky you, he loved to do it.

His one hand squeezing the fat in your ass, kneading the sensitive skin.

You moan, loudly, when his tongue starts to circle around your clit, and he squeezes your ass extra hard: a warning.

The burning sensation in your core continues as he enters two fingers, pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Though you can’t see him, you know that he is smirking, hearing you fall apart above him.

Finally, the mix of his two fingers, tongue, and thumb rubbing circles around your clit causes you to finally come undone, legs shaking as Coryo drinks up all the juices you spill. His rough hands hold your legs up, and soon he’s out from under the dress, lips quick to attach to yours, making you taste all of your juices on his tongue.

He pulls away and smiles at you, “I love you,” he whispers, brushing your hair from in front of your face, fingers delicate and soft.

“I love you,” you smile, lightly melting into his touch.

“Can I fuck you now?” he smirks, a mischievous glint to eyes, fingers rubbing your jaw. “Please, pretty thing? I’ll show you just how much I love you…I’ll fuck it into you,”

His lips are re-attacking your neck, hands pulling down the zipper of your beautiful dress.

“When I’m president,” he pants out, your hands tangled in his hair, humming,

“I’m hanging this dress up for everyone to see, the most beautiful dress ever worn,” he finished, attacking your lips with his own. He’s sure your lipstick is smeared across his chin, likely off the corners of his lips. He doesn’t care, everyone should know that you’re his. He is the one who gets to kiss you, gets to fuck you.

He helps you step out of it, gently placing it over a near chair, not wanting to ruin the masterpiece.

“In fact, I’ll have a whole wing dedicated to you, my love. It’ll have dresses, coats, portraits..” you shut him up sucking on the sweet spot under his right ear, knowing it turns him on the most.

And you are right, watching him tear off his black coat and shred off his slacks, left in his boxers and white button down. He pulls you back into him, watching with lust blown pupils as your perfectly painted fingernails unbutton all the way down the shirt. You help him remove it, discarding it to the pile of his other clothing.

Then, his boxers are tugged down, carelessly kicked off, and he’s back to you, pressing you harder into the wall.

He tells you to jump, and you oblige, legs wrapped around his hips as he lines himself up with you. “Just one more, princess,” he mewls, noticing your sudden nervousness. You nod, knowing Coryo would stop if you became too overstimulated.

You dig your head into his shoulder, biting the hard skin as he pushes in, your pussy taking him so perfectly that he almost passes out.

The two of you hadn’t had sex in weeks. Sure, you had done other things, but you hadn’t done the thing that ties two people so closely together, barring ever single part of themselves.

His hands are secure around your ass, moving you in synchronization while he relentlessly continues to bottom out in you.

“Coryo,” you moan, slightly muted by it being said deep into his shoulder.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he groans, feeling himself slowly untie. You feel the same sensation, his dick hitting your sweet spot so perfectly with every thrust.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders, and then move your free hand down between the two of you, massaging circular motions to your clit.

Coryo goes even faster, earning whines and various other noises from your lips, beginning to squirm from the sensitivity.

“Come for me, darling,” he says, eyes following your every movement. You begin to massage faster, head falling back against the mahogany door as his thrusts become sloppier.

The two of you come undone at the same time, Coryo lightly leaning against your body, slipping out before delicately dropping your leg.

He makes sure you’re able to stand up before walking away, gathering your dress, and helping you step back into it. He ties the corset, and then the zipper.

He slips back into his outfit, pulling up the slacks and sliding his feet into the shoes. You button up his top, and smooth down the collar. You go to run your fingers through his now slightly tangled curls, making them look as perfectly curled as they were when he arrived to the show.

Finally, he gets down on one knee, holding your heels. You prop a bare foot onto his knee, looking down at him with lust-blown pupils, swollen lips, your hair slightly messy and smudged lipstick. How he got so lucky, he has no idea.

He slides the expensive heel delicately onto your foot, like he’s scared of hurting you. As he begins to buckle it close, he cuts the silence.

“I love you, Y/N Mars. I love everything about you. Your voice, your eyes, your spirit. I love your dedication, your talent that so very few possess. I love how you care for me, and make sure I’m alright, always bringing me whatever I need. They say that love can arise from the most unsuspecting of places, and in my case, that was you. As a child, I would trail you like a lost puppy, always seeking your validation, some sort of indication that you saw me, knew me. I know we’ve had our initial clashes, loud, aggressive fights in the middle of class or in lunch, and I know you don’t always listen to me, and I don’t always listen to you, but you see me differently than anyone else, you see a side of me that I don’t know to anyone else. And amongst the original animosity, I found myself drawn to you, seeking your approval. The deeper I got to know you, the more I began to fall for you. Everything I’ve done, every person I’ve hurt, it’s all been for you. And now, here I am, professing my undying love for you. Love that will burn for as long as I live, as long as you’re by my side.”

You are speechless, mouth agape, Coriolanus’s glossy eyes raking over all your features. You were bewildered, wondering how something so romantic could come out of a man’s mouth who was simply doing-up your shoes.

He is still down on one knee, and once he’s finished your other shoe, you pull him up, arms winding tightly around his waist.

His large hands rub your back, holding you as close as possible. You dig your face into his chest, his chin atop your head.

A slight sniffle, and then you murmur out, “I love you, Coriolanus. I don’t know how I could’ve doubted you.” Persephone’s words echo in the back of your head, over and over again, “fool”.

tagged

@snowsgames

#coriolanus x oc #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow angst #maeve writes 🎀

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captain-lessship · 5 months

Text

Frozen Over Pt. 1

Summary: Young Snow eagerly wakes to a prestigious day. Guided by his grandfather, he learns to tie a tie, sharing a bond that extends beyond family. At the ceremony, an unexpected connection forms, bridging the gap between Capitol and District.

Trigger Warnings (Whole Work): Canon Typical Violence, Manipluation, Abuse, President Snow being President Snow, Eventual Character Death.

Content Warnings (This Chapter): Undertones of manipulation and co-dependency. Positive President Snow Talk.

You were cheerfully woken by a knock at your door, “Young Snow, it is time for you to be up.”

You all but flung yourself out of bed and rushed to your closet. You opened it to reveal a very well made outfit. A suit jacket in your signature color, well mare pants and your golden tie, dyed gold and faint gold threads littered it.

As you got dressed, you thought about the victor, Finnick Odair. How awesome it must be! To be the youngest person to win. You knew you would never be allowed to compete, maybe that’s why you were so impressed with Finnick. A boy only a year older than you had accomplished something you could only dream.

While lost in thought, you hadn’t realized that your grandfather had entered the room. He walked up behind you and put both hands on your shoulders, making you jump slightly.

“Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“I just have the tie left.”

He smiled as he looked at you in the mirror, “You have grown so much. I remember when you had to be helped.”

You laughed lightly, “Grandfather, I still can’t tie a tie. Not like how you do.”

He moved his hands from your shoulder, “You will need to learn that. You are almost a man.”

Your smile fell slightly, he instantly picked up on that. “Watch me do it. I will show and tell you how to.”

He took a spot beside you in the mirror, undoing his tie, “Start with the wide end of the tie on the left and the small end on the right.” He then pointed at where the wide end fell, “The tip of the wide end should rest at the top of your belt buckle. Only move the small end.”

You followed his instructions and looked at him ever so often, making sure you had it positioned right.

“Small end over the wide end to the left. Under the wide end and to the right. Up to the center, towards neck loop.”

You were always impressed by your grandfathers many skills. He always tied his ties this way for ceremonies. You were becoming just like him!

“Through the neck loop and to the left. Across the front, to the right. Then up into the neck loop from underneath. Down to the left and around the back of the wide end to the right. Keep this part loose.”

You couldn’t remember a time when your grandfather hadn’t been around you. In every memory, he was there. You knew that he was getting older and he wanted you to take over for him. And you were happy to do so. Then you would teach your son or grandson like how he had done for you. Like a never ending chain of Snow.

“Bring it across the front towards the left and through the last loop we made. Pull the small end towards the left to tighten. Up to the center, towards neck loop. Down through the neck loop and to the left.”

We? You and him? Best friends, more than a simple bond between Grandparent and Grandchild. You told him everything and he listened to you. He taught you many things and you remembered them.

“Up to the center, towards neck loop. Down through the neck loop and to the right. Keep this part loose. Across the front towards the left and through the loop made in the previous step. Pull the small end towards the left to tighten.”

You were one and the same. You were his favorite, you knew it in your heart. You were his first grandchild and your mother loved you siblings more so it evened out. It was you and him.

“And finally, tuck the rest of the small end behind neck loop on the left side.”

You beamed as you looked at your tie, it was just like his.

————

You were exceptionally nervous as you looked out at all the people who had gathered for the victory ceremony. Once again, the comforting hand of your grandfather came to your shoulder. “You need to do this. It is very simple. You walk up to them, smile, congratulate them and place the crown on their head.”

You could feel your heartbeat increase as you looked at the crown on the velvet pillow, golden interlocking sections that intimidated you.

“Are you ready?” He asked you. You nodded.

With shaky hands, you stepped forward, smiling out to the crowd as they cheered. They knew who you were. The cheers mellowed out as you picked up the crown and held it in both of your hands.

One last deep breath escaped you as you turned and walked to the blonde that had been staring you down: the victor, Finnick Odair. Fourteen years old. Still a child in so many ways. A twinge of pity came to your heart, knowing what went on in the arena.

Everyone knew what he had done.

Finnick stared into your eyes, he saw warmth. Like that of a sweater. He thought you were an angel. You didn’t look like the rest of the Capital citizens, you had a clean face and muted toned clothes but you radiated kindness. You didn’t know him and he didn’t know you; but it felt like friendship.

“Finnick Odair,” you said, a smile dripping into your words, “Congratulations and Thank you.”

He leaned slightly forward and let you place the crown on his head. “Thank you.”

You nodded as you stepped out of the way as to let the crowd see the victor.

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puddleslimewrites · 1 year

Text

Resignation

Inspiration/Prompt

"Quit looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're never going to see me again."

The frown on Villain's face deepened. "You're resigning."

Hero smiled sadly. "Not for another month. This isn't the last time." An unspoken 'not yet' hung in the air.

"Who am I going to terrorize when you're gone?" Villain asked. Their throat was dry, eyes desperate as they searched the hero's expression. "Who's going to tear down my schemes? Trade threats with me?"

"They'll assign you someone new."

"I don't want someone new."

Hero swallowed. For the first time they felt close to regretting their decision. They almost wished they could take it back, but...

But they just couldn't do this any more. As much as they enjoyed their time as a hero, they knew they had reached their limit.

"...I'll miss you." It was an offering - the only one they could give.

Villain clenched their fists, jaw locked tight. Hero waited for the protests to start again. Instead, they were forced to take a step back as they suddenly found themself with an armful of their nemesis. It took them a moment to register the hold for what it was. Hero wrapped their arms around Villain, cheek pressed to their shoulder.

They didn't have the heart to let go.

#uni: classes are virtual because of the snow #me: heeHOO wRiTiNg TiMe-#puddleslimewrites #heroes and villains #writing #writing prompt #writing prompts #hero and villain #hero x villain #fluff #original title: 'goodbye'#hurt/comfort #angst #hero/villain #platonic hero x villain

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thefoxesraven · 4 days

Text

You Promised

All for the Game - Nora Sakavic

No Archive Warnings Apply, Seth Gordon, Seth Gordon's Brother, Jackson Gordon, Gordon Brother OC, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Anger, Brotherly Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide Attempt

Jackson Gordon is the youngest son out of seven, six years younger then the brother who actually took care of him and made him feel wanted. Six years younger then the brother who found him after he made one of the most stupid decisions he'd ever make. Six years younger then the brother that promised he'd get clean and stop doing drugs if he just got the help he needed for his mental health. Six years younger then the brother who broke the promise that got Jackson the help he needed and saved his life. It's what would of been Seth's 25th birthday. Jackson has a lot of anger and resentment for the brother that saved him and then threw his life away breaking a promise he clearly didn't actually care about.

#aftg #all for the game #aftg fanfic #all for the game fanfic #seth gordon #implied suicide attempt #angst #grief #anger #jackson gordon #posted on ao3 #ao3 #archiveofourown.org #snow writes #my writing #my oc #snow's ocs

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take-it-on-the-run · 4 months

Text

Burn

Sejanus Plinth, Coriolanus Snow

Looking back at it, Sejanus should've seen his fate coming at him like a brick through a window

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: Angst (?), AU where Sejanus lives and outsmarts Coryo, OOC!Sejanus (he has a spine), guest appearance from Lucy Gray

Characters: Sejanus Plinth, Coriolanus Snow, Lucy Gray Baird

Anonymous requested: "An au of where Sejanus lives instead of dies but finds out coryo betrayed him (his only true friend betrayed him and left him heartbroken/extremely hurt) so he goes home and seeks comfort from burning that photo of him and snow (kind of inspired by the song burn from Hamilton) but he burns the photo and then sobs his poor heart out"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: This was my first ever request! I want to thank the person who requested this fic for putting some faith in me to write something! I'm not great at writing angst when it comes to people I don't know a lot about (Sejanus) but I hope this isn't too horrible. As always, any constructive criticism is welcome with open arms!

Sejanus Plinth hadn’t had many friends as he grew up.

He’d come from the Districts, and his beginnings weren’t lost to him. His family, on the other hand, acted as if they’d been born in the Capitol and hadn’t only been there for ten years.

When he transferred to the Academy, his beginnings were certainly spotlighted by his classmates. People turned away from him, whispering in each other’s ears as he walked by; he was an outsider, through and through.

Sure, people talked to him, walked with him in the halls, and laughed when he made jokes, but no one close enough he’d call his friend.

The money that came attached to the Plinth name was a blessing, but sometimes it was more of a bubble surrounding him. People only talked because of his name, only walked because of his name, and only laughed because of his name. At the end of the day, he’d go home to a house full of nothing but empty people and return to a school that only wanted to know him because of the Plinth prize.

At a mere eight years old, he’d thought of disappearing for the first time, until a boy in his class sat down and offered him a gumdrop.

It was a small gesture, but compared to the ridicule Sejanus had been under for his first months in the Capitol, it showed him that there was at least one soul in the sea of vultures surrounding him.

Sejanus had learned the boy’s name was Coriolanus, but only his grandma’am called him that, so it was simply Coryo.

Coryo didn’t mind much of what the other kids thought when the two of them started to study together in the library, sending a brief, cold glare toward anyone who talked loud enough for him to hear.

He hadn’t known it at the time, but the only person he’d call a friend had come to school with that gumdrop for a reason, but, until their final year in the Academy together, Sejanus was content with the idea of Coryo being his only friend.

When it finally came time for the two of them to graduate, and for the Plinth prize winner to be announced, he knew this year was different.

Greed leaked from every last person in the room, including the boy Sejanus befriended all those years ago. Even when it was announced that there was a final test, one Sejanus knew was coming, his friend barely blinked.

“You will each be assigned a tribute from the Games to mentor,” Professor Highbottom’s voice bellowed as he paced in front of the group of students, “and depending on how each of you does in your mentoring, your chances of winning the Plinth prize,” his steely eyes flickered to Sejanus before returning to the group at large, “will be greatly affected.”

People murmured around him, being quickly silenced by Highbottom’s finger in the air.

Sejanus nervously shifted his eyes to his friend, looking for someone to see just how insane this entire idea was, but was met with the side of his head as Clemensia Dovecote whispered something to him. The both of them laughed, Coryo wiping the smirk off of his face with his hand before looking back to their teacher.

Looking back at it, he should’ve seen his fate coming like a brick through a window.

Professor Highbottom announced mentors and their tributes right before the Reaping was displayed on the large screen in front of the class.

Marcus, was his tribute’s name, and Sejanus tuned the rest of what Highbottom was saying out - without even having to look, his heart dropped to his knees as District 2’s Reaping was screened above him.

District 2 Male, Marcus; another boy who Sejanus had befriended.

When the camera panned to the young man, Sejanus craned his neck to look at his former friend. His hands were swollen, his hair shorter, and his clothes were the customary masonry uniform of District 2; but looking at him felt like a window to his past life. His face remained the same as it always had, the small mole near his right ear almost acting as a way for Sejanus to prove that this was who he remembered. Who’s spot he could’ve easily been in if his family hadn’t transferred to the Capitol.

Marcus wouldn’t meet his eyes when they met again for the first time in ten years.

He looked at Sejanus through the metal bars, at his hand outstretched with food, and turned away silently. He didn’t give him a second glance, even after he eventually accepted the food through another tribute.

Marcus didn’t even get a chance to defend his own life.

A stupid tour of the Games’ arena, meant for strategizing, tore that away from him.

The explosion went off, and in a flash, Marcus was gone. Coryo and his tribute were covered in smokey debris, and all the screaming made Senjanus’ head practically explode. He turned back to see Coryo pulling his tribute out from underneath the rubble, yelling at them to run for the exit. He spun, looking around for Marcus, but deep down he knew he’d already run; so that’s what Sejanus did; he ran as fast as his legs would carry him as he waived the exit route to everyone trying to escape.

In the days leading up to the Games, Sejanus let himself think - hope - Marcus had escaped Panem somehow. Done something he only could dream of.

That hope was crushed the moment he saw Marcus hanging by his arms on a rock in the arena. His face was disfigured, and blood leaked from every part of him, landing drop by drop in a large pool far beneath him. The others barely flinched as they found their tributes, waiting for an alarm bell to sound.

Again, he turned to the only other person he could’ve called a friend, for some semblance of comfort, and instead saw he too was looking for his tribute.

Sejanus knew Coryo had felt something for that District 12 girl, probably before his friend realized it. Every time she spoke, his head turned to attention, taking in everything she said. He wanted to pretend that he didn’t see their hands interlaced as they went to preview the arena, but he couldn’t.

Coriolanus Snow had a heart, just not one to share.

The strings holding his heart in place buckled, and Sejanus swore that his mind, body, and heart were acting on their own accord.

Before he could pull back his words like he had all these years, he was screaming at the rest of the mentors in front of their screens. At the stupid man waiving his microphone around. At the Capitol, the formality of it all, all of Panem for existing in the first place.

At Coryo.

“Monsters!” He felt blood rush to his face as he jabbed his finger at everyone in the auditorium, “all of you, are monsters!”

No one spoke a word, yet all eyes were focused on him as he stumbled away from the stage, his stomach churning and trying to empty itself.

Not one person stopped him from running out of the room, it was like his words didn’t meet their ears.

It was only when Coryo was practically dragging him from the arena that night, tooth and nail, did Sejanus thought his words reached someone. When he felt Coryo’s hands rip him from Marcus’ body, away from the friend his family had forced him to leave behind, did he think that just maybe he cared about him at all.

The rest of that night went down so quickly, Sejanus could swear it was a nightmare; if only it weren’t for Bobbin’s death being broadcast the next morning.

As he watched Coryo bash the tribute’s head in, over, and over, and over, and over again, he felt his heart stop. Not out of loneliness, jealousy, or even desperation; but out of pure, blood-freezing, fear.

After that night, Sejanus locked himself away until his punishment for breaking into the arena came.

Being shipped to District 12 to serve as a Peacekeeper for the next twenty years of his life.

A light sentence is what his father called it.

He heard through the grapevine that Coryo’s tribute, his performer from District 12, had cheated death and managed to win the Games.

What was he feeling in that moment? Joy? Pride? Rage?

Fear?

As he stepped on the Peacekeeper train heading to District 12, their eyes connected almost instantly, and he swore he could feel the blood splattering onto his hands same as the night in the arena.

He wouldn’t admit it to himself at the time, but he felt his heart falter with relief as he saw Coryo’s familiar face blankly staring back at him, curving into a polite, but empty, smile.

Even after they’d gone and seen Lucy Gray, Coryo’s performer, Sejanus still told himself that he meant something to the boy he’d grown up with. That, if he were caught sneaking away to talk with rebels again, he would come to his aid.

“What are you doing?”

It was a simple enough question, one that someone passing by wouldn’t remember seconds after they’d heard it, but to Sejanus, it plagued his lungs with smoke as he fought the urge to run, turning away from Coryo with an empty jabberjay cage in his hands.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sejanus stated, surprised his voice didn’t raise any octaves.

“I’ve seen you, meeting with some of the Districts, whispering, don’t you think getting three of them killed was enough?”

The violent scene of Coryo shooting down that girl like an animal, and the carnage that followed flashed in his mind, almost drowning out the noise of a jabberjay’s record button being flicked on.

Like a brick through a window.

“So, you’re going to pretend like you haven’t been helping out any kind of rebel group in your free time?” Coryo asked him again, this time, in a harsher tone that was more accusatory than curious.

Sejanus balled his hands resting on the workbench in front of them, turning to his accuser as blood crept its way up his neck.

“You have never been where they are,” he whisper-yelled to the boy beside him as he felt his heart shatter to pieces once more, “we’ve both got it all, so how the hell would we know anything about their side of the story? People are starving as we do patrols, and we can’t so much as look at them without being punished.” He took a step closer to Coryo, to the jabberjay he knew was recording them, “and your girl? That Lucy Gray? Her life can’t be too different from these people we see out here. I’ve seen the way you look at her, the stolen moments, the way you almost beat that Billy Taupe to death because he was harassing her. No Peacekeeper in their right mind would do that out of simple pride for their job, Coriolanus.”

The boy beside him faltered for a moment as his full name slid off of Sejanus’ tongue, replaced with frustration as his thumb hovered over the jabberjay’s recorder controls.

Sejanus left without another word, turning the corner and waiting for the sound he knew he was going to hear.

Crack.

The jabberjay that Coriolanus had tried to use against him was as dead as his heart was.

And now, as he sat in a small cabin far outside the reach of the Capitol, a friend who’d been deemed dead along with him, strumming on her guitar, he opened the box he dragged from his barracks that day.

A faintly crinkled photo of students, both standing proud in their red uniforms, stared back at him. He didn’t know what had become of the boy standing next to him; the one he called Coryo, then Coriolanus, but tears slipped down his cheeks nonetheless. The strumming of the guitar stopped as the bright girl across the fire looked at him with pity, not saying a word.

His fingers tightened around the photo, distorting the two people in it. He couldn’t tell himself that was him, and he couldn’t say the blond next to him chose the Capitol over their friendship. These were two different people, friends, who had only had one another as they’d grown up in a climate that rejected them both.

He dipped the photo into the fire, watching as flames crawled over the only reminder that once, he had a friend, someone who wouldn’t ridicule him for his upbringing or his standing. Someone who, if fate had allowed it, may have held their friendship higher than his greed for power.

Sejanus Plinth hadn’t had many friends when he’d finally grown up. Only a girl sitting across from him, strumming away on her guitar, gently muffling his quiet sobs as he let the photo burn to ash.

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