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#the woods district 12
tomthebassoon · 4 months
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Ok listen. I'm dying. Reading the hunger games, I was vaguely aware that district 12 was supposed to be located in my homeland, but I didn't fully feel it till I read tbosas. Like, that's Appalachian folk music, baby! The music of my people! Lucy Gray talks like me!! The humidity Snow can't stop bitching about? That's my summer!!!
And then the movie came out and let me tell you, the joy I felt hearing the covey speak. That's my accent on the big screen!!! And of course, the music was just how I imagined it!! Straight up, The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird was *the same* melody I thought of when reading the book!!! (musicology is my passion ok). Every single song killed me I swear. And the cinematography of district 12! I can imagine my home town like that. I know meadows and lakes just like those. That's my home.
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cherienymphe · 5 months
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Everybody Knows That I'm A Good Girl, Officer (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
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WARNINGS: Dub-Con, power imbalance, abuse of power, degradation, manipulation, slight stalking, choking, semi public sex, mentions of cockwarming, mentions of gun kink, dom/sub elements, free use elements, jealousy
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies
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summary: ...and everybody knows. Everybody knows...that he fucks you.
~
You didn’t know a thing about Coriolanus Snow.
Not until he quite literally cornered you in the meadow one day.
Peacekeepers came and went, especially in District 12, so you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any new face that appeared on the streets of your district in those blue uniforms. In truth, you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any of their faces. They all perfectly blended together into one faceless being that was merely a puppet of The Capitol, anyway.
However, standing in front Coriolanus Snow, you wondered how you missed him. Not because he was handsome—and he was—but because there was a hard glint to his blue gaze that told you he wasn’t the average capitol dog. Gun tight in his hand at his side, he stared at you like he wasn’t at all surprised to find you there.
He wasn’t.
You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to watch you, silent footsteps shadowing yours as he wondered what you were up to when you crossed the district line. He liked to watch you pick flowers and write underneath a tree and bring back the occasional caught animal for your ma and pa. He watched you play with the children in your district and help that old neighbor with her window…and steal food on occasions when your family couldn’t afford it.
“You could get into a lot of trouble for that.”
His tone was even and strong, but something about it told you that he didn’t want you to get in trouble for that.
“I know,” you told him, jutting out your chin as if challenging him to do something about it.
You said nothing, merely pressing your back to the tree when he moved closer, the gentle breeze ruffling the tall grass around his feet. You said nothing when he stood so close that you could smell him, wondering to yourself what a peacekeeper could possibly have access to that would make him smell so good. You even remained quiet when his free hand reached for yours, the softness of it shocking you, a sharp inhale when he turned your hand over.
Your palm was lightly stained from the bird you’d killed.
You curiously eyed him, a slight frown between your brows as he studied the skin. You drank in his prominent nose, full lips, and those unsettling blue eyes. Staring at them for too long actually made you uneasy, and when his gaze lifted to meet yours, you couldn’t look away fast enough. It only then occurred to you that you were out in the woods alone…with a peacekeeper who could do absolutely anything he wanted to you.
His next words surprised you.
“If someone other than me were to catch you…I can’t imagine what they’d do to you,” he murmured, making your frown deepen. “So, I would advise you to stop.”
By the way the corner of his mouth twitched, you knew that your shock and confusion was all over your face. When he dropped your hand, he pointed his gun at your catch of the day in a gesture for you to get your things, waiting for you to grab your dinner and your book.
You thought that he was letting you off the hook.
You thought wrong.
You learned that Coriolanus Snow was not a good man.
“Your daughter dropped these, ma’am, and I knew she’d kick herself if I didn’t bring these home.”
That smile on his pink lips was perfect, blue eyes twinkling when your mother thanked him profusely for bringing home your groceries—groceries you both knew you didn’t buy. When your eyes met his over her shoulder, that charming smile didn’t move an inch, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you felt.
“Thank you,” you told him the next day, seeking him out.
He wasn’t technically on duty, and you found your gaze lingering on the dog tag around his neck. However, you found your gaze lingering on his face instead when he took a step closer, gaze unreadable.
“Anytime.”
It was a strange thing to say about bringing you food that you didn’t buy, and when he took another step towards you, your face pinched ever so slightly. You were all too aware of your close proximity, and when you felt his chest lightly brush against yours, your lips parted in realization. The moment it clicked had your blood running both hot and cold, uneasy and conflicted.
As you stared at each other, there seemed to be a lot of unspoken words between you, Coriolanus with one hand on the wall and you with one hand fidgeting with your shirt. You looked between his eyes, looking for some hint of hesitation, some evidence that deep down this wasn’t something he actually wanted to do…but there was none. There was a resolve in his gaze that felt all too familiar. It was the same determination you were sure was in your gaze anytime you swiped food for your household.
The same determination when your desperation won.
You took a deep shuddery breath.
“Anytime…?” you wondered, keeping your eyes on him.
Something in his face relaxed, evening out as he completely crowded you, now.
“Anytime.”
When his lips met yours, you didn’t exactly know what to do, feeling both unsure and sure at the same time. You were sure that you wanted to live comfortably and not have to wonder how you’d get your next meal, but you were so unsure of how this would end and what this would mean for you. You wouldn’t be the first girl to give herself to a peacekeeper or the mayor or whoever else she needed to just to ease the weight in her chest.
Coriolanus kissed you like he was the hungry one, lips moving against yours in a way that left you breathless. His hand wouldn’t stop kneading into your waist through your shirt, and his other found a home on your face, thumb brushing over your skin and tilting your head back. The only thing to pull you apart was a noise coming from inside the building you were pressed against, and when the blond man told you to hurry home, you did.
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You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked obedience.
He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed repeating himself, and you learned that quickly, so now when he told you to get on your knees, you didn’t hesitate. When he told you to open your mouth, you did, and when he practically begged you to look up at him, you did. Coriolanus would never beg, he would never do that, but it was evident in the way his voice strained—the way the words left him breathlessly.
Or maybe that was because you had your lips around his cock.
With a hand in your hair and a hand on your chin, he gently guided you to take him into your throat again and again. You were no virgin, but there were still a lot of firsts to be had for you, and sliding your tongue over the tip of him was one of them. The feel of his fingers massaging your scalp soothed you, made this less nerve-wracking, and to your surprise, it even stroked a slowly burning fire between your legs.
There was such a stark contrast between the gentle touch of his fingers in your hair and the harsh hold of his hand on your chin. It wasn’t the easiest to take all of him into your mouth, and you couldn’t swallow down the noise that escaped when he hit the back of your throat. His smooth baritone reached your ears when he gently shushed you, softly telling you to use your hands.
“Wrap them around me,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet room.
Coriolanus liked obedience…so you did.
Your hand slid along his length in time with your lips, twisting around his cock, an easy task with the help of the mess you were making. He didn’t seem to mind though, only groaning above you, and when you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, you took in the way his head was thrown back, the skin of his throat straining and bobbing as he swallowed.
When he lowered his head, you started to look away, but the tightening of his hand in your hair told you not to. You kept your eyes on his as best as you could, sucking your cheeks in and flattening your tongue against the side of his cock. Every bob of your head made him shudder, and you dropped your hand when his hands came to rest on both sides of your head.
Remaining still for the man standing over you, you kept your mouth open as he slowly began to push his hips forward. With every surge of them, his cock dipped into your waiting lips, sliding over your tongue and against the inside of your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks as he lost himself in his movements, blue eyes gazing down at you as he filled your mouth.
You didn’t know why—couldn’t understand it—but something about his outright use of your body and your lips had you squeezing your thighs together. It made heat settle in the pit of your stomach, twisting and burning violently until your not-so-subtle movements became noticed by him. In between his uneven breathing, a soft chuckle reached your ears.
“You’ll get your turn.”
…and he was a man of his word.
With the taste of him still on your tongue, Coriolanus had one forearm completely pinning your hips to the bed as he pressed his face between your thighs. Another first ripped away from you, wide gaze on the ceiling as you fought to keep from squirming. The feel of his tongue inside of you was jarring, and you couldn’t stop your toes from curling at the warm feel of it quite literally lapping at you.
Your hands came down to rest on his short blond hair, hips attempting to lift from the mattress, chest arching upwards towards the ceiling. When he hummed between your legs, you felt it all over, and you couldn’t stop the moans that climbed out of your throat. With him holding you down, the only appropriate thing to do was claw at whatever you could, turning your head from side to side.
It wasn’t enough for you to come into his mouth once. Coriolanus needed to know that he was the best you’d ever get, and even when you were out of breath and exhausted and overstimulated, he didn’t let your thighs go, only using them to drag you closer as he knelt between them. His perfect teeth winked at you when he leaned in to kiss you.
If your ma and pa wondered what kind of job you lucked out with to afford all of the food and clothes you started to bring home, they didn’t ask. Although, something in you suspected that they had an inkling of just what you had to do to bring home the freshest bread and the warmest clothes they’d ever had. You started to suspect that everyone did.
Coriolanus wasn’t exactly the most discreet, and you learned that he didn’t intend to be.
On the off chance you crossed paths in the street, he stopped you for all to see, voice lowering as he got really close and asked you how you were. You would feel the eyes of his peacekeeper friends on you as the unspoken questions lingered between you. Did you need more food? Did you need a new dress? You would tell him that you were fine, code for you didn’t need anything at the moment, and he wouldn’t try to hide his perusal of you, those unsettling blue eyes slowly dragging over your frame.
He didn’t seem the kind of asshole to brag about such things, but you weren’t stupid. Even without saying it, he made your arrangement abundantly clear. The way he talked to you, studied you, and ran his fingers over the back of your arm without a care as to who saw. Coriolanus had staked a claim on you, an unspoken display of ownership, and you wrote it off to some sick power trip.
…but you learned that Coriolanus Snow was a very jealous man.
That revelation struck you as odd because you didn’t think anyone would have anything he’d be jealous of, and you certainly didn’t think he’d be jealous over you. You were some average thieving girl whom he exploited the first moment he saw an opportunity to do so. Considering that he was willing to do it to you, you didn’t doubt that he was willing to do it to someone else should he find himself unable to have you anymore. That was what you believed anyway…
Until his fist was ruining the face of some District 12 boy you’d grown up with. You were far from friends, but he’d been a familiar constant in your life for years, and so sharing a drink with him while everyone danced to the live music on stage seemed like nothing at all to you. You didn’t even think there were lines to cross, a sentiment that was quickly corrected.
With one hand curled around your throat—holding you in place—there wasn’t any other option but to take Coriolanus’ thrusts. The sound of guitars and flutes and fiddles bled through the thin walls, everyone quickly moving on from the brief display of violence they’d witnessed. You could still remember the shock on your face as other peacekeepers pulled him off of the unsuspecting man who’d never been anything more than an acquaintance, really.
Your horrified gaze had met that of a familiar blue, and there wasn’t much time to do anything before Coriolanus neared you, reaching for the back of your neck as he walked you away from the crowd. It had been hard to ignore the numerous eyes following your movements, and you wondered now if they quickly moved on from the display because it was nothing or because they were too nervous to get involved with Coriolanus and the girl the whole district knew belonged to him.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out in some back room, your chest pressed to the table.
Your eyes were squeezed shut as he stretched you out, cock pushing into you and throbbing with every push of his hips. You knew that the words wouldn’t change anything, but you felt compelled to say them, anyway. His fingers were tight against your neck, and every time you reached up towards them, he only squeezed tighter. Despite the discomfort, you couldn’t stop your stomach from squeezing, coiling tight as you gripped him.
When he pulled you up so that your back was firm against his, his hold on your neck loosened a bit, and you took a deep inhale. His thumb was pressed to your jaw, and he brought his face down to rest on the other side of your neck where his arm didn’t rest, pressing open mouthed kisses there.
“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” he whispered against your skin.
It was the truth, and at your silence, he squeezed your neck again.
Your nails scraped against the table he fucked you on, upper body straining as he kept you upright and against him, hips lifting to push his cock into you with the kind of thrusts meant to make a point. When his teeth grazed your skin, you shuddered in his hold, and despite the fact that you couldn’t hear his laugh, you felt it deep within his chest.
“He can’t give you what I can…”
You started to tell him that you knew that, but Coriolanus didn’t let you.
“…so, don’t go thinking he can.”
“I wouldn’t…”
Your words died in the air when he pushed you back down, completely pressed against you and pinning you between him and the table.
“Wouldn’t you?” he hummed, his free hand trailing over your visible cheek. “Everybody knows your price.”
The demeaning words made your stomach turn, but the way he curved his hips against you only had you clenching down on him at the insulting insinuation.
“They see the nicer clothes…the better living conditions…and they know why. They know what you did to get that.”
His lips brushed against your skin with every word, and as if it make his point, he reached down between your legs to brush his thumb over you, making you gasp. With the circling of his fingers, you fidgeted beneath him, toes pushed to the absolute tip to get some reprieve and lips parted as you scraped and clawed at the table.
When he came inside of you, something he never did before, he held you down, forcing you to milk his cock until he was completely satisfied. The nice dress he’d gotten sewn for you was ripped, and you reached up to touch it with trembling lips the moment he let you go. He was so determined to get his hands on you the moment the door was shut that you liked to think it was an accident, but the way you were forced to wear the jacket of his uniform as you walked out made you think otherwise.
Even though Coriolanus was nowhere near you once you rejoined the crowd, his presence was still loud and clear. No one needed to be a genius to figure out where you’d been, and as you glanced around, you realized that he was right. The discreet looks and nervousness around you… Everyone knew.
…and you didn’t know how to feel about it.
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You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to have you whenever and wherever he wanted.
Whether it was in his bunk when he should’ve been on duty or in your room during the early hours of the morning when your pa was in the mines and your ma was asleep or between the openness of the trees when you were only amongst the grass and the birds. He didn’t like disobedience, and so, he didn’t like the word no. So, you never uttered it.
Even when you wanted to.
“Good girl,” he purred into your lips when you did as he wanted, reaching down between you and sliding yourself onto his cock.
It was late when he knocked on your door, gently telling your ma to go back to bed when you answered it. You didn’t know if you wanted to see the look on her face when you left with him, afraid of what you’d see. There was a rare stillness about District 12 when you crossed the district line, Coriolanus’ fingers brushing over your neck the entire way.
The only light was from the moon, his soft hands gripping your hips and guiding you over him. His gaze alternated between your face and his lap where you two connected. Occasionally he lifted his own hips, driving his cock up into you and making you gasp. His hands ran up and down your frame, kneading your skin and basking in the thin layer of sweat that clung to you—to both of you.
“Show me how bad you want it,” he’d murmur in the darkness, completely letting you go.
He opted for leaning back on his elbows, his own pink lips parted, blue eyes glinting under the light of the moon as he watched you fuck yourself onto his cock. Your hands pressed against his chest, keeping yourself upright as your lashes fluttered. There was a burn in your hips that ached too good to stop, the sound of you squeezing him and sliding up and down him loud to your ears.
“Make yourself come,” he’d whisper, refusing to touch you as his voice lowered. “Work for it.”
When you finally did tense on top of him, shuddering and pressing your nails into his chest, the blond man wouldn’t hesitate to circle his arm around your waist, flipping you before you could even catch your breath. Back pressed into the grass, he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the air.
Under the cover of darkness, Coriolanus allowed himself to lose control, holding your throat and pushing into you—taking full advantage of having you at his mercy. He plunged his cock into your walls, praising how wet you were for him and how snugly he fit inside of you.
“Whenever I want,” he told you.
“Whenever you want,” you agreed, nails digging into his back.
When you returned in the early hours of the morning, your ma never acknowledged it. She never acknowledged how the house stayed stocked with food despite you never going to the market. Her only acknowledgement of the clothes sewn for her were quiet ‘thank yous’…but she knew. Everyone knew.
…and it bothered you less and less until it didn’t bother you, at all.
It couldn’t bother you.
…because if it did you would have to say no when Coriolanus wanted you to rest in his lap, cock fitting snugly inside of you as he held you there. You would have to say no when he brought you another dress he had made or the freshest groceries you would’ve never been able to afford. You would have to say no when he asked if you were his good girl, demanding you prove it as he slid his gun between your legs, telling you to remain completely still.
…but you didn’t say no to any of that because it didn’t bother you—because it couldn’t bother you. Even when the discreet looks were hard to ignore or your ma started to ask if you’d be out late or you started to feel cheap and used. You couldn’t let it bother you.
You were his good girl, and that was what he told you when he tied a pretty delicate ribbon around your neck for all to see one evening.
It was soft.
White.
Just like snow.
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jackietaylorstan · 5 months
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Can we PLEASE talk about the detail in the movie about how Snow’s dad died in the woods around District 12, because it’s making me insane. I think it was Dr Gaul who said something like he’s “lost in the trees” and I’m absolutely losing my mind over the layers of influence that moment in the forest had on Coryo.
Crassus Snow was lost in the woods of District 12 and was found again within his son. Because it was that moment of finding the guns and going after Lucy Gray that turned Coryo into his father. Where he rejected his mother’s goodness and the life he could’ve had with Lucy Gray and chose to carry out the legacy his father started with the hunger games. Snow lands on top.
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dark-fics-4-you · 3 months
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Keeping the Peace
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credit to @jadiwrites for helping write the blowjob scene
dark!Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader with a side of dark!Sejanus Plinth (only one scene for Sejanus)
Warnings: smut, noncon (dead dove do not eat), forced sex, forced oral (m!recieving), reader is held up at gunpoint, unprotected sex, degradation, slight spit kink, kidnapping, violence, misogyny, free use themes, abuse of power, power imbalance
The sky over district 12 was cloudy and grey the first time you ever took notice of Coriolanus Snow.
Growing up in the aftermath of the districts’ rebellion meant that you had barely known a life that wasn’t ruled by Peacekeeping grunts. Your memories before then were murky, you could remember a difficult life without many pleasures or much to eat, followed by periods of war, when food was even harder to come by.
You could remember countless faceless Peacekeepers blurring together, all of them looked the same to you. Just a bunch of capitol brutes who struck fear into the heart and souls of everyone in your district, yourself included. You had learned at a young age to never talk to, or talk back to, a Peacekeeper.
Even making eye contact with a Peacekeeper was never a good idea, any facial expression that implied dissent could be punished. After all, who would question the word of a Peacekeeper over some district scum, as they often liked to call you.
However, as you made your way across the market, trading some leather for food and purchasing several jugs of water and any medicine you could, you couldn’t shake the burning feeling that you were being watched, maybe even followed.
You glanced around the crowded market, trying to catch the eye of whoever might be watching you, but you couldn’t figure it out. You had convinced yourself that you had to be paranoid, that you were just working yourself up over nothing, when you finally spotted him.
He was standing several yards away from you, and despite the many people in the busy market, his cold, blue eyes were trained on you. This Peacekeeper seemed on edge, like he was hoping for a fight to break out just so he could break it apart.
You felt a shiver pass through your body, averting your eyes immediately to avoid any suspicions from falling on to you.
It had to be a coincidence, you catching him staring at you once didn’t mean anything really, but something about the look in his eyes made you feel profoundly anxious for reasons you couldn’t identify.
You spent the entire walk to your house glancing over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t being followed, and when you finally got to your house and closed the door behind you, even the safe walls of your home couldn’t calm your nerves for hours.
The second time that you took notice of Coriolanus Snow was a week after the incident in the market, but this time he got much closer to you.
You had been on a nighttime walk in the woods, trying to clear your head after the stressful shift you had just worked at the bar.
Your boss had yelled at your several times, threatening to cut your already measly pay if you messed up another order, but it wasn’t your fault that all the men who came into the bar harassed you so much that you could hardly remember if a certain order of beers went to the table where the red-faced pigs called you a whore or to the table of rowdy men that kept smacking your ass every time you walked by.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t quit. You and your family were barely surviving as it was, your mother too ill to work and your brother was too young.
You were so consumed in thought that you didn’t hear the rustling of the branches nearby.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be out here this late, young lady.”
You spun around, fear shooting through your body when you came face to face with a familiar pair of blue eyes.
The peacekeeper towered over you, and your heart skipped a beat when he took a step closer. His helmet was gone now, allowing you a glimpse at his blond buzz cut.
“Don’t you know there’s a curfew right now? You could get into serious trouble if I reported you to my superiors.” The man’s voice was low and threatening, his eyes sharp and determined.
“I’m sorry,” you replied quietly, trying to make yourself sound as non-argumentative as possible. Fear was pulsing through your veins. You had heard about the kind of things Peacekeepers would do to the districters that pissed them off, and you were terrified of something bad happening to you when you knew no one else could take care of your family.
“I just wanted to take a walk. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
He took a step closer and your fear rooted you in place. Coriolanus studied you for a moment, his lips twitching into a scowl.
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N Y/L/N, sir.” Your heart was hammering in your chest. “Am I in trouble?”
“Depends, Y/N. Turn around and put your hands on that tree.”
“What?” Your eyes widened before nervously glancing around. You were still a 10 minute walk from the town, and 15 from your house. An area this remote was not one anyone would be visiting for hours. There was no one else around this late at night, and the cool breeze now gave you chills.
“Did I stutter?” He took another step towards you, crowding your space, and you backed away from him in fear. You didn’t miss the way that his hand came to rest on the pistol at his hip. “I said, turn around and lean against that tree, I need to search you for counterfeit goods.”
You had been searched by Peacekeepers before, but this was different. Before, it had always occurred in the market or the main square, but now you found yourself all alone in the dark, completely at the mercy of this stranger who held absolute power and authority above you.
You took a breath to calm yourself, trying to tell yourself that you were fine. That he was just going to search you and then let you leave. You turned your back to him and placed your hands on the large tree in front of you.
When he moved closer to you, chest practically pressing to your back before he had begun to search you, you took in a sharp breath. Why was he so close to you? Had the Peacekeepers always conducted their searches like this?
His large hands came to your waist, patting around the fabric of your clothes, circling your waist before returning to your sides. They trailed lower, grabbing at the cloth of your skirt before passing over your hips. His hands ghosted over your ass for just a moment before moving to your legs. It was so quick you weren’t even sure if it had actually happened or if you imagined it.
When he was satisfied with checking your lower body, his hands returned to your waist, climbing up the sides of your ribcage.
You yelped in surprise when you felt his large hands cover your chest, roughly squeezing your tits as he held his body close to you. This time, you felt no doubt at all about whether he knew he was doing. You couldn’t move, terrified of what he might do if you tried to break away from him.
You skin crawled when his lips pressed to your neck, smooth voice whispering into your ear, “just need to be thorough.”
He inhaled deeply through his nose, giving your breasts one final pinch before pushing you against the tree and stepping back.
You spun around to look at him, back pressed to the rough bark and eyes fearful.
He looked amused as he stared down his nose at you and you were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.
“Don’t let me catch you breaking curfew again, Miss Y/L/N.” His voice was cold and hard. “Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to write you up.”
You shuddered at what it might mean if he caught you again, but you didn’t have time to think about it, because when he stepped aside to let you past him, you ran the entire way home, bolting all of the doors when you got there.
You came to learn through passing that his name was Coriolanus Snow. Several of your friends had experienced run ins with him before, but nothing like what had happened to you.
After the night that he searched you in the woods, you started to notice him everywhere. He must have figured out your daily and weekly schedule, because even though you had started to try avoiding him, he was always at the market when you went shopping and you found that he had been stationed outside of the bar you worked at every night you were on the schedule.
You grew to expect the feeling of his eyes following you everywhere, although that didn’t mean it unnerved you any less.
One night, completely exhausted from your shift, you exited the bar in a hurry, forgetting to do your usual sweep to scan for Coriolanus lurking around.
Wanting to take the shortest route possible, you opted to head through the dimly lit alleyway behind the bar.
“Get any good tips tonight, Y/N?” The voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water.
You turned to see Coriolanus leering above you, blocking the way you had came, a triumphant smirk plastered on his face. The sounds of the bar were muffled but still loud and raucous, although the only thing you could hear was your heart beating quickly in your chest.
You cleared your throat, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice, “No, not really.”
“Mm, tough night?” He asked, voice lighter now, but it didn’t do anything to make you feel better.
“Every night is here,” you responded, nodding your head to the bar behind you.
“I bet,” the taller man answered, inching closer to you as he did. “Why don’t you pull out your wallet, sweetheart?” Although it was phrased more like a statement than a question.
“My wallet?” You repeated nervously, reaching for your purse slowly.
He grinned as he snatched the bag from your hands and started to rifle through it. “I mean, you said you didn’t make any good tips tonight, so I figured you wouldn’t miss ‘em.”
“But I need that money!” You huffed with frustration. “My Ma’s sick! She needs medicine all the time.”
Coriolanus chucked darkly, starting to grow annoyed, “You think I give a fuck about whether your Ma lives or dies?” He grabbed the handful of cash that you had been saving up for weeks and stuffed it into his pocket.
“Hmm, seems like a lot of money, Y/N. I wonder how a simple waitress could have made so much?”
“That’s my money I’ve been saving! I told you, it’s for my Ma, I’m just trying to get her better treatments, please!” You pleaded with him, tears beginning to form at your waterline.
He just shook his head, tsk-ing like he was disappointed in you. “First you broke curfew, and now this, Y/N? You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight. I’m taking this money and letting you off with another warning. Unless of course, you wanna give me a reason to search you again.”
Coriolanus towered above you, drinking you in with amused eyes and enjoying the frustration written all over your face, “How does that sound?”
You bit your tongue, rage boiling inside you, “fine,” you answered through gritted teeth.
He threw your now empty purse at you, before moving to let you pass. As you walked by him, however, his hand shot out to roughly slap your ass, and you could still hear his chuckles echoing off the walls as you ran out of the alley with tear stained eyes.
Two days after that incident, you returned home from a double shift at the bar to madness. You needed to make up for the money that Coriolanus had taken from you somehow, and now you were working yourself to the bone to try to cover for the unexpected loss.
You were shocked to find the place swarming with Peacekeepers who were tearing your home apart. You entered slowly, not wanting any trouble from them, but needing to check on your ma and little brother.
“What’s going on?” You demanded of one of the Peacekeepers, but you got no answers.
Well, not until an all too familiar face emerged from your room with something clutched in his hand. His piercing blue eyes found you immediately, but his face remained hardened. Your mouth dropped in surprise when you realized what he was holding.
“This room is clear,” he announced loudly, not breaking his eye contact as you watched him stuff a pair of your panties into his pocket.
A horrible chill passed through your body and you felt like you could be sick. Why of all people was he choosing to target you? What had you ever done to him to warrant any of this?
Your brother began to cry when they entered his room, and you hugged him tight, brushing your fingers through his hair and quietly singing a lullaby to calm him. You nervously glanced at your mother, who was seated in the kitchen with you.
“Y/N Y/L/N?”
Your head snapped to Coriolanus, who gestured for you to come over to him. You pressed a kiss to your brother’s head before standing and crossing over to him, making sure you kept your distance.
“What do you want, Coriolanus?” You hissed quietly, trying not to draw the attention of the other Peacekeepers.
“Got some reports of possible rebel activity taking place here. We have to check out any tips we get.” His cool response made you want to scream. You knew that he was lying through his teeth, the only people who even came to your home were you, your brother, and your Ma.
“You and I both know that’s not true!” You hopelessly pleaded with him. “Please, can’t you leave my family alone? It’s hard enough for them as is.”
He chuckled at your desperation, clearly pleased with the panicked response he was receiving, before barking at the men in your brother’s room to get out.
When he pushed you into the doorway of your brother’s room, your ma and brother cried out in protest, but Coriolanus yelled at them to shut the fuck up before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“Maybe you didn’t learn your lesson the first two times. And since the other Peacekeepers haven’t gotten the chance, I think I should search you myself.” He pushed you up against the wall that you were facing, roughly pressing your cheek to it while the hand at the back of your neck clenched down.
This time he didn’t even pretend to properly search you, the hand at your neck immediately clamping over your mouth to muffle your protests, while the other groped your chest, plucking at your tits while you struggled in his grasp. He slid his hand under your shirt and bra this time, sighing into your ear when he finally squeezed the soft, tender skin of your breast.
“You’re so beautiful, y’know that, Y/N?” He whispered, and you wanted to be sick at the feeling of his fingers tweaking your hardening nipple. “With a little make up and some better clothes, you’d fit right in with the rich capital girls.”
A tear escaped, trailing down your cheek and you blinked more away. You felt impossibly trapped, frozen in fear and trembling in his arms. His hands came to your hips, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he rubbed his hard on against your ass.
His lips were close to your ear, “if you want to protect your family, you need to stop trying to avoid me.”
“Fuck you,” you whispered, against your better judgment.
At this he chuckled, and one of his hands left your hips, grabbing onto your chin, forcing your head to the side and holding you still as his lips smothered yours with a rough kiss.
And then he backed off, walking out of the room before he called off the other men.
You were still in shock as you caught your breath, staring at the space he was just occupying as you tried to collect your head.
Lips still burning from his kiss, you shuddered as you thought about what you might need to do to keep your ma and brother safe from him.
After they had all filed out and you took a moment to adjust your clothes, you finally left your brother’s room and took in the wreckage they had left behind. The house was trashed, furniture knocked over and papers scattered about everywhere.
Your room was the worst of all though, everything had been pulled out of the drawers and piled on the floor, your mattress was up against the wall, your desk had been toppled over, leaving anything on top of it to scatter across your room, and they had shattered your mirror, leaving a jagged piece reflecting your misery back at you as you stood in the door.
Your ma was a mess, crying and hugging you and your brother for an hour afterwards, repeatedly questioning out loud why they would do this to your family.
Unfortunately, the answer was all too plain to you now, although you were still too freighted to fully admit it to yourself.
For whatever reason, Coriolanus Snow had decided to stake his claim on you, and based on your previous interactions with him, you knew that it was only a matter of time before he would take what he wanted.
For a week, you were terrified to leave your house alone, always calling on your friends to ask them to walk with you too and from work or the market.
In those days, Coriolanus’ presence always weighed heavy on you, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. Even having your friends nearby couldn’t stave off the fear that clutched your heart when you noticed Coriolanus stalking behind your group, always a good deal of distance away, but you knew that he made himself visible to you on purpose.
The feeling of safety became something of the past. Everywhere that you went, he was there, although he hadn’t spoken to you since he and his other Peacekeeping brutes tore your home apart. But that didn’t make him any less terrifying.
Even your house, which had felt secure and safe for so long was no longer sacred. It had taken days to clean up the place, and much of your furniture had been broken in the frenzy.
After Coriolanus had assaulted you in your home, you bartered with some friends to acquire a large lock to place on the front door of the house, but it still didn’t provide much protection when the peacekeepers could just break the door down.
Unfortunately for you, having that lock also didn’t do you any good if you forgot to use it.
After waving goodbye to your friend as you walked up to your door after a late night shift, you pulled out your key and turned the lock, leaving it hanging on the door and closing it behind you.
The first thing that you noticed when you stepped inside was how unusually quiet it was. Usually your brother would be at the door to greet you, even at this late hour, but he wasn’t there this time, and when you called out for your ma and brother, you only heard silence in response. Where were they?
Alarm bells started ringing in your head as you ventured further, and you had just stepped into the doorway of your room when you heard a heavy click and felt cold steel press against the back of your head.
You froze in place, staring ahead into the broken mirror across from you that confirmed who was behind the trigger.
Your eyes locked in the mirror, the cold resolve set in his icy blue gaze made you shudder.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop trying to stay away from me, Y/N?” He was angry, a lethal poison infecting his voice.
You couldn’t speak, your mouth was dry, and your mind was racing a million miles a second, but you needed to know that your family was safe.
“Did you hurt them?” You whispered.
“Not yet. Your Ma and brother will be fine. As long as you do what I say.”
You let out a shaky breath at the confirmation that they were safe, but your stomach still turned at his words. You were terrified of Coriolanus, and now that he had you completely at his mercy, you knew that he wouldn’t let you go until he took exactly what he wanted from you.
“You understand, yes?” The gun pressed to your skull harder and you quickly nodded.
“Yes.”
“Get on your knees, slowly.” You felt him move the pistol away from your head for a moment, and you turned around, meeting his eyes fearfully before lowering yourself to kneel before him.
Coriolanus unbuttoned his blue shirt, dropping it on the floor behind him. He looked at you expectantly and you realized he wanted you to unbuckle his belt. Your trembling fingers fumbled with the belt before reaching forward to unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper. He pushed his pants down his legs before removing his boxers as well.
He smirked down at you as you took in the size of him.
“Such a pretty girl,” you flinched when you felt one hand twist into your hair while the other brought the pistol to your temple. “But I think you’d look better with your lips wrapped around my cock.”
The hand in your hair tightened, pulling at your scalp and dragging your head forward.
Reluctantly, you lifted your hand to wrap around the base of his thick cock, nervously wetting your lips before parting them and taking the tip into your mouth.
Coriolanus pushed himself deeper, nudging the back of your throat and groaning lowly when your eyes flitted up to meet his.
You pressed your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth, trying to make more room for him as he sped up his pace.
You closed you eyes, bringing every thought to controlling your breath as he pushed his cock to the back of your throat, in and out between your lips. The cooling metal of the gun barrel was still taut against your skin, trembling slightly as Coriolanus gritted his teeth above you.
"Look at that, you're relaxing for me, good girl." But where did your pretty eyes go? That wouldn't do, he needed all of your attention. The nails of his fingers dug into your scalp, and tears sprung into your eyes. Your muffled yelp reached his ears.
"You'll keep," a groan interrupted him as your hand tightened around his cock, "your eyes open, and on me.”
“Do....you...understand?" Each word was punctuated by a harsh thrust into your throat, pushing past your tongue and slamming against the back of your neck.
You pathetically hummed around his cock in agreement, nervously keeping your eyes on his, not wanting to give him any reasons to hurt you.
By the time he was coming down your throat, your lips were puffy from his brutal pace, and your tears made your cheeks slick and shiny. You gagged at the sensation, throat closing around his length as he spilled his seed down your throat. He held your head in place, choking you with his cock until you had swallowed every drop of his salty cum.
Coriolanus’ grip on the gun had tightened as he came and you fearfully glanced at it before meeting his eyes again.
When he pulled his cock out of your mouth, he was quick to drag you to your feet before tossing you stomach first onto the bed behind you.
Coryo finally holstered his gun, turning back to you and easily pushing you against the bed as he bunched your skirt up at your waist. He let out a low whistle as he admired your ass, reaching out a hand to grope you before giving the soft flesh a sharp smack, earning him a whine from you. You could feel your hips digging into the hard mattress that you had had for your whole life.
You struggled in his arms, but when his hand found it’s home around your throat and you felt his cockhead start sliding past your lips, you realized there was nothing you could do to avoid what was coming.
Coriolanus pushed all of himself into you in one slow, punishing thrust. You didn’t have any time at all to adjust to his thick length before he was gripping your ass tightly, canting his hips back and thrusting into you again.
Your gasps and cries were muffled by his large hand at your throat. The way he tightened his grip combined with the feeling of him stretching you out had you seeing stars.
His pace was brutal. Coriolanus had been imagining this for weeks, and after you kept yourself away from him the past few days, he wanted to make the most of the first time he fucked you.
Each time you tried to escape from under him, his large arms wrapped around you again, holding you in place as he snapped his hips against your ass, burying himself deep inside you with every thrust.
“Keep trying to get away sweetheart,” his hot breath fanned over your neck, and the blond drew closer to suck at a tender spot until you whined and melted back into his arms. “I like watching you struggle.”
Your stomach turned and you tried to ignore how weak your knees felt at the peacekeeper’s whispered threats in your ear.
Coriolanus pulled out of you, not giving you time to process his actions before he was flipping you onto your back.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you tried to break away from the terrifying man above you while you had the chance, but you were too slow.
The blond captured you again, throwing you onto the bed and straddling you as you thrashed against him. When Coriolanus reached his hand out again to choke you, you could feel your heart beating against his hand.
You flinched when he drew close to you, his nose practically touching yours as he forced you to look at his eyes.
When he pushed into you again, stretching you out from a new angle, you whimpered, trying hard not to let your eyes flutter close.
Coriolanus reveled at the sight of your sweet, tear filled eyes meeting his as he split you open with his cock. The way that you trembled beneath him gave him a thrilling sense of control over you. He knew that you already would let him do whatever he wanted, but for some twisted reason he wished he had held onto his gun so he could press it to your temple as he fucked you and see the fear in your eyes.
Your cunt was pulling him in, squeezing and twitching around his length with every thrust. He could feel you getting wetter around him with every brush against your walls.
“You’re so tight, so wet,” he strained, getting distracted by the sounds of your cunt squelching with every move he made. “I need to fill up that pretty pussy, Y/N.”
At the sight of your eyes widening and your lips parting in protest, Coriolanus clamped his hand over your mouth before fucking you faster, groaning and cursing under his breath.
“Someone needed to- fuck,“ Coriolanus’ voice caught in his throat when he felt you clench around him, “someone needed to teach you a lesson about respecting authority. You should feel lucky that I was willing to.”
Begging and sobbing against his hand only spurred him on and he laughed at every pathetic attempt you made to push him off.
Coriolanus’ hand crept from your mouth to frame your jaw and he roughly squeezed your cheeks until you opened your mouth. The blond spat into your mouth and you gagged, your repulsion making your skin crawl. You wanted to throw up at the feeling of his spit sliding down your throat when you swallowed it, and Coriolanus chuckled at your disgust as he leered over you.
“You’re just a filthy district slut,” his hand returned to your throat, choking you harder than he had before, “and that’s all you’ll ever be, Y/N.” The venom and hatred in his voice shocked you, and the way he was thrusting into you was downright punishing.
You were clenching around him so tight, and the sight of your sweet, innocent face marred with so much fear was enough to send Coriolanus over the edge.
He slowed, groaning as he pumped you full of his seed, his cock still twitching inside of you.
After he pulled out and moved off of you, you tried to turn away from him, but his hand shot out and latched onto your wrist, twisting your arm painfully before forcing you to face him and firmly kissing you.
When he pulled away, the words that he uttered sent a chill over your skin, “Snow lands on top.”
The next few days were a blur as you blinked in and out of dissociation. Coriolanus had his way with you more times than you could count, never caring about your distress at him using your body however he pleased.
Any resistance you put up was easily squashed when he snapped back threats to hurt your family. However if he was in a really bad mood, he would brandish his pistol, pressing the sharp metal to your forehead until you sobbed, and apologized for fighting back.
You weren’t even sure how many days had passed since you first discovered that Coriolanus had your ma and brother thrown in jail.
Every time Coriolanus sank into you, you could feel yourself receding into your mind, trying to protect yourself from the nightmare you found yourself in.
During the days, he would go out to terrorize the people of district 12, and during the nights, he would return to terrorize you.
One night you lay in your bed, praying that your ma and brother were safe. You could only imagine the horrible things they could be being subjected to at the hands of the peacekeepers.
Your neck was sore and bruised, as were your wrists. Your entire body was aching with pain from Coriolanus’ repeated abuse.
When you heard the front door swing open, you tensed instinctively, closing in on yourself in anxiety. Hushed voices reached your ears and you craned your neck to try to hear better. They seemed to be in the midst of a conversation.
“I mean, don’t you think that maybe what you’re doing here is wrong?”
“Sejanus, if anything, you’d be helping the poor girl, we’ll give her food for every load she takes.” Your stomach turned at the disgusting way Coriolanus was talking about you, and the way his friend laughed along with him.
“And you’re sure she’s not going to try to tell somebody?”
“Nobody would believe her over a Peacekeeper, and besides, who will there be to tell? I have dirt on every officer in 12, if they tried to do anything to put a stop to this, they’d be taking themself down as well.”
The men were both silent as Coriolanus’ words sunk in.
“You promise you’ll actually help her out afterwards?” His friend, Sejanus apparently, sounded somewhat concerned, but clearly not concerned enough to report Coriolanus. “And she’s gonna get something in return?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure her brother gets some candy or something,” Coriolanus chuckled and you heard the other man laughing too.
“Is she in there right now?” Those words had you sitting up in bed, fear clutching your heart. Coriolanus wasn’t seriously discussing pimping you out to his friends, was he?
You got your answer immediately however, when your door opened and you came face to face with a man you recognized as another peacekeeper. He seemed anxious, but after he noticed your state of undress, he advanced on you with the same sick desire you had seen in Coriolanus’ eyes several times now.
Your throat was dry and anxiety laced your words as you pleaded with him, “Wait, please don’t!”
“Shut up,” he growled, leering over you as you sat on the bed.
You tried to put up a fight, but it was all in vain. You really should have known you couldn’t take on a peacekeeper. Despite your attempt to run past him and reach the door, he easily grabbed you and shoved you back onto the bed. His hands pawed at your undergarments, throwing them behind him without a second thought before he removed his pants and stroked his hard cock.
When he forcefully pushed himself into your sore pussy, you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes and spilling over when he began to rock back and forth.
Sejanus was different than his friend in several ways. While Coriolanus had been rough and kept a fast pace, you found that Sejanus preferred to take his time, slowly pushing his cock into you as you trembled in his grasp. After the initial struggle, he was surprisingly tender and gentle, caressing your soft skin, pressing kisses to your breasts, and sucking on your sensitive nipples.
Unlike the blond, Sejanus seemed almost unwilling to meet your eyes, and when you protested or put up any resistance, instead of reveling in the fight, Sejanus just covered your mouth with his large palm so your yelps couldn’t reach his ears.
“I’m doing this for you, Y/N.” He whispered against your skin when he drew close, tilting his hips back so he almost slid all the way out before slowly filling you up again all the way to the hilt.
His words only made you feel worse. You didn’t want any of this, and when you grabbed his hand off of your mouth and told him as much, his eyes darkened in anger.
You whimpered when his hand came to your throat, squeezing harshly against the faded bruises.
“I’m not a bad guy, okay?” It was hard to discern if he was trying to convince you or himself, and after he slapped you for not agreeing with him, you nodded and tearfully responded.
“You’re not.”
“I’m not,” his hot breath fanned over your dewy skin as he repeated himself on a loop, thrusting his cock into your tight cunt again and again. “I’m not. I’m not.”
You whined when his hand came between your legs, swirling around your clit and stealing unwanted gasps from you.
Every drag of his thick cock against your snug walls mixed with his twitching fingers at your clit brought you closer to the brink or orgasm.
Tears fell past your eyes which were squeezed shut, and you whimpered as you came around him and he fucked you harder, fingers never leaving your clit.
When you came again, Sejanus kissed you for the first time, desperation and hunger evident in the way his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, swallowing your moans as his lips slid over yours. You felt disgusted, but also couldn’t ignore the confusing way you clenched around him when his lips first found yours.
Your third orgasm was close behind the second, tearing through you with force and Sejanus grunted at the feeling of your slick cunt choking his cock, fucking you faster and chasing his own release.
He cursed loudly when he came, shuddering as he slowly snapped his hips against yours to fuck his cum deeper inside of you.
Sejanus kissed you again before pulling out, quietly apologizing without meeting your eyes and then he was gone, leaving you exhausted and sore in a bed you no longer felt safe in.
As you lay there, trying to ground yourself and comprehend what you had just gone through, you couldn’t help but think of your mother and brother, who were being held in prison just because of the twisted infatuation Coriolanus had with you.
How different would your life be now if he had never approached you that late night several weeks ago?
And what was your life going to look like now that he had claimed his stake on you and was planning to let his Peacekeeper friends “share” you and take advantage of you whenever they pleased?
Hours had passed as you tried to think of any way out of the bottomless pit that you now found yourself in. Tears had subsided a while ago, but now you were just left with emptiness. You were still lost in thought when the door opened and Coriolanus’ large frame cast a shadow across your bed.
The grin he shot you after he took in your distressed state was smug, triumphant even, and the glint in his eyes told you exactly why he was entering your room at the early hours of the morning.
Tonight, you didn’t put up any fight at all.
1K notes · View notes
hollyskywalker · 5 months
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Worst nightmare
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She had him wrapped around her little finger.  
Coriolanus knew she did. He's no longer the same teenage boy trying to wrap his head around what this achy feeling in his chest is. He no longer convinces himself it's hunger, or that he's just confused. He knows the feeling is longing, desire, lust, or maybe even love.  
After everything that happened in District 12 with Sejanus, with Lucy and the people he left behind he had hoped he'd never have to go through this again. A foolish hope, he realizes now. He's a human being and it's almost unavoidable there are people out there who would know just the right thing to say or just the right thing to do for him to lose his ambition focused mind in the fog that is love, or obsession in his case. He's not sure there's really a difference between the two.  
But he thought he knew better than to let someone in again. He hadn't liked how Lucy made him feel vulnerable, and how it had hurt when he realized she'd left him in the woods.  
Yet here he was, pressing this infuriating woman against the wall with her legs wrapped around his hips, their lips barely parting to breathe before pulling the other back in. 
She was perfect.  
Absolutely perfect.  
She was also his close friend's wife. 
He always thought of himself as a gentleman. Sure, he did questionable things and studied under the most questionable woman of Panem during his time at university, but at least he was polite about it. Or at least, he acted in the way one would expect a gentleman to act. 
Kissing your old classmate and close friend's wife is not very gentleman-like. He knows this but when she tangles her hand in his hair the way she does, he can't find it in himself to care.  
“Festus will come find me” she murmured into the kiss. He ignored her and started to kiss his way down her neck. He's not going to acknowledge another man's name coming from her mouth when his mouth is the one making her keen so sweetly. 
She repeated her words and when ignored her once again she gently nudged him back a bit so she could look into his eyes “Coriolanus, you know he can’t catch us. Everything will be ruined” 
He thought he might start laughing. He honestly pities the tree somewhere out there whose single purpose is to replace the oxygen her husband wastes. “Festus Creed does not have the capability of ruining anything for me” 
She hummed and brushed his hair off his face. “Your mood before we came here seemed pretty ruined to me” 
His grip on her waist tightened at the memory of Festus drunkenly clinging to her, embarrassing her, during the entirety of the evening before Coriolanus had cleverly thought of an excuse to whisk her away. 
“Very daring, to take me away from my husband in front of all those people” she whispers, her hands coming up to rest gently on his shoulders.  “Not at all like you to take that kind of risks” 
He didn't bother responding to that and simply rested his head in the crook of her neck, pulling her body as close as possible to his. She rolled her head to the side, giving him better access as her eyelids fell shut. His nose grazes up and down the length of her neck, breathing her in. 
It had been a long day. His path to becoming Panem's president was set and he was prepared to wait for the perfect moment now that he has the right people on his side. He was not an impatient man, but so close to his goal it was hard not to long for time to speed up just a little bit. 
That's why he'd already been annoyed when he arrived at this fundraiser which must be the 10th this month, and then he had to watch Festus wrap his arms around her. It was just too much.  
When they are together, it's like all the noise is cancelled out and he can finally feel at peace. His mind finally rests and he enjoys when they focus solely on each other and nothing else.  
“Marry me” she murmurs in a voice like honey.  
He's taken aback, pulling away from her to look at her wide-eyed. He hardly noticed anything around him; he felt disorientated, dizzy. His mind worked feverishly. Did she really just ask that? Did he imagine things?  
It takes a moment for him to gather himself enough to answer her. “What?” 
She tilts her head to the side with a grin, linking their hands. “Marry me. You want to become president and you have all it takes to become one except for a wife. People will expect you to have one by the time the campaigning truly starts, and you know no one works a crowd better than me. I have them hanging onto my every word within seconds,” she pulled him down slightly so she could comfortably wrap her arms around his neck “With my family name, and influence, and your talent as a natural leader, combine the two of us and Panem would be yours by the end of the year” 
He stared at the wall on the other side of the room.  
Laying her fingers on his left cheek, she turned his face to look at her. “Just imagine how powerful we could be together as a couple” 
He was imagining it. But... 
“They'd never allow you to divorce Festus” he said with certainty. This he knew for sure. The family name and influence she spoke of would not be as impactful if everyone knew she divorced someone from the Creed family. They'd call her crazy, and steer clear of her.  
“We could not marry unless Festus were dead” 
Her eyes darted between his, her hand cupping his face. She truly was ethereal.  
“I know”  
Her response is entirely too calm and he frowned at her.  
During events he would often watch her socialize and play the crowd just like she said, until they were hanging onto every word that fell past her pretty lips. She always seemed so genuine when she talked to people, but he had caught the glint of ambition in her eyes, just like him.  
She was an impeccable liar without a tell. She could lie to whoever she wanted to. Despite that she tended to be a very honest woman. He knew he would be able to count on her if she was on his side. Her, with her always impeccable appearance and her fashionably styled hair wearing nothing but lavish clothing standing out blindingly, concealing her still very much venomous nature.  Perfect. Absolutely perfect she was.  
Festus was undeserving of a woman like her. He'd always thought it but now he was sure of it. 
He could already picture it. Him, waving down at the crowd with her by his side, the envy of Panem. There would always be people against him and his tendency of making unethical choices. But how could they doubt his leadership if a woman as good as her was married to him? They'd believe she'd keep him on the right path. 
She was working her way to the top, and she was succeeding. So it would only make sense for her to ask him. Festus had his sights set on presidency too, but if she believed Coriolanus had a better chance... Coriolanus tried not to let it get to his head.
Was she insinuating he kill Festus for her? So they could marry and she could become Panem's First Lady? Did she know he'd killed before? If she did, she obviously wasn't bothered by it or scared of him because of it.  
But then there was Festus. Coriolanus didn't particularly like the guy, in fact, seeing Festus trip was the highlight of his day not even a week ago, but could he kill the Creed heir? He had killed before but in this situation it's less trivial. It's not about survival, nor about making it to the top. He was sure he could make it without her...but still... did he want to, without her? Is she not worth it? Is having her by his side worth killing Festus Creed for? 
She's not worth it, he thought and tasted the lie as soon as it crossed his mind. 
He met her eyes and thought of her smile – the smile he can't ever seem to get out of his head – and- 
He was going to kill Festus Creed.  
Memories of Sejanus flashed across his mind. Sejanus had been in the way of him ever returning to the Capitol. So he took choices that haunted him, but he didn't regret. Just like he wouldn't regretting ridding her of her infuriatingly incapable husband.  
Truthfully, Coriolanus was surprised Festus was able to stand with a spine that weak. Always following what others told him to do, never thinking for himself, so easy to manipulate. Yet he saw himself suitable for presidency?
His hands have settled on her waist seemingly out of pure instinct. His throat felt dry, and he swallowed several times before he tried to speak. 
“Yes” he nodded, decision made “Alright” 
Something bright flared in her eyes as she looked at him. After a pause, she practically launched herself at him, knocking into him so hard that he had to take a step back. He laughed quickly. One of his hands is still on her waist, but the other cups the back of her neck as his thumb strokes over her throat.   
She tilted her head up and pecked his lips. Something horrible tugged at his chest, and he knew. There's no one more dangerous in the world than her. Because he's obsessed and in love as she gazed up at him through her lashes. 
The blood was thundering through his brain. Happiness filled his chest; a dizzying sensation and his head swam with emotion. His arm slid around her waist, his hand coming to rest on her hip. 
“Mrs Snow” he whispered like a promise, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.  
"What is it?" she chuckled "Why are you looking at me like that?"  
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, roughly but passionately. 
"You are my worst nightmare and the woman of my dreams all at once" 
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kiss-me-muchoo · 5 months
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𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲… || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ As a punishment for helping Coriolanus to cheat on the games, you’re sent to serve as a nurse in District 12 for the summer. He had to choose between Lucy Gray and you. He just needed a reason to pick you, luckily the songbird gave him one in time before you were gone. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ evil nurse!reader x peacekeeper!Coryo, very slight canon divergence, jealousy, sexism, stalking, nudity, reader is a little crazy and evil, you can’t trust her feelings, angst, beef with Lucy Gray (I <3 her irl), blowjob lol, buzzcut!Coryo fucks reader in the lake so MDNI 18+, this is so fucked up tbh. 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ reader is mentally unreliable. Song of course is liability, I know it won’t work, Will you cry? And buzzcut season lol. All in my playlist, It’s the worst and will disappoint you.
♪ ♫ The worst playlist 4 Coriolanus Snow ✰ Index (+ fics here)
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You’ve made big mistakes.
You accept it looking at the lake, ripping the delicate petals of a wildflower. Having to say goodbye to your summer vacations after graduation was fair. Your parents convinced Dr.Gaul to have some mercy on you. You wanted to die when they convinced her that you did it because you were a girl in love. You helped Coriolanus to find the aisle where the snake's tank was going to be picked up.
You were so in love that you only wanted to help your lover. Coriolanus was far from being your lover. You heard him countless times making fun of you. And you still helped him because your good heart wanted to see him winning the prize.
And what did you get? Serving as a nurse in the worst district for the whole summer.
It’s been two weeks. And the only good thing is the evening, where you like to kill time alone, in the silent woods. The moment to breathe and realize how naïve you had been. You deal with the damage Coriolanus had done to you. And the worst part is that he couldn’t care less. He only had eyes for his songbird after all.
And that’s what boiled your blood. That it was her and not you.
There’s already a little pile of dry flowers around you, from all the previous days you were at the same position as now. The days passed and you weren’t ready to let go. You needed to find a way to forget about him. “Damn it…” you whisper, cringing at all the memories, rage invading you, violently throwing the flower in your hands and wiping away the tears.
When you return to the medical aisle, you need to pass by the military camp. You were obviously a Capitol girl. Anyone with a golden watch and lip tint was. Since day one, many peacekeepers have asked you out. They wanted to spend the night with you. But you weren’t in the mood to lose your virginity yet. You were stressed, angry, embarrassed, but you tried to put your best face.
“Y/N! IS THAT YOU?” You turn confused. Only to find Sejanus Plinth. It genuinely made you smile seeing him.
“Sejanus? What are you doing here?” You ask for a hug. His hair had to be gone, he had the peacekeeper uniform. You were extremely confused.
“The real question is what are you doing here?” You roll your eyes.
“Coriolanus. He cheated on the games.” He sighs, nodding.
“I know. He’s here too.” Your eyes widen. He notices you are uncomfortable.
“Well, I helped him, and Dr. Gaul punished me to serve here for the summer” Sejanus seems surprised to hear it. He sees your nurse uniform, noticing the silver plaque attached in your chest. He knew women of the military with that plaque were on a higher range. In your case, probably because your father paid for you to have some commodities.
“At least you’re here” you add.
Sejanus knew you weren’t on good terms with Coryo. The boy asked for you on the train. But Sejanus hadn’t heard from you. Which apparently left Coriolanus slightly disappointed.
“Yeah. I’m here… we’ll have a good time. Promise” honestly, you were relieved to see him. But just by remembering that Coriolanus was also near you, it made you wish you were still alone.
“Any plans for tonight?” He asks, smiling.
You only had three friends. All girls from District 1 and 2. They were serving just because they were kind and wanted higher chances to get into University. They comforted you and Fridays were for two things. Going to the most famous bar, where Lucy Gray performed. Or going to a secret and elegant club for people with enough status.
“On downtown’s Main Street. A block to the left, the second alley. Tell the guy at the entrance you know me. Use my full name” your friend giggles, slowly moving away.
“You’re unbelievable” as you go back to your private room with your new friends. You can only think of how to avoid encountering Coriolanus for the rest of the summer.
It was enough for him. You wouldn’t even breathe near him. It was you, always offering subtle love. And he gave nothing back.
Lucy Gray was such a warm and sweet girl. Her dress with flowers and detailed boots added something to her performance.
Her voice was hypnotizing, her smile so pure and her hair so soft. It was the third night Coriolanus watched her perform. He smiled, drinking something. It was a humble bar, but the most famous one. He looked around looking for Sejanus. Last night he never appeared either. Coriolanus was growing worried, noticing his friend was starting to contemplate rebellious acts to help the people. Always trying to be the hero. As Lucy Gray finished her song, Sejanus appeared. A big smile on his face.
“Where have you been?” The blonde asked.
“You have to promise me you won’t freak out” Coriolanus rolled his eyes.
“Y/n was punished for helping you to cheat. Gaul sent her here to serve as a nurse for the summer.” His eyes almost popped out.
He had completely forgotten about you. He cringed, already expecting to have you all over him.
“Does she know I’m here?” Sejanus nodded.
“Yeah. She wasn’t happy when I mentioned you.” Coriolanus suddenly remembered that the last time he talked to you, you cursed him. You got mad after he didn't even offer a thank you for your help. Coriolanus realized at that moment that you hoped he would choose you over Lucy Gray. Which didn’t happen.
“She has access to the club reserved for high status military personnel. I won’t say this is bad but there is better…” he looks at his songbird. Everyone cheered for her, but…
Suddenly, Coriolanus doesn't like that Sejanus had spent last night partying with you.
“Take me there.” He says, looking at his friend.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. She stated very clearly that-“
“Sejanus… I need to see her. I won’t cause any disturbance.” After a minute of debating, Sejanus stands up and tilts his head, telling Coriolanus to get out of the bar.
It’s a fair distance. Coriolanus has no idea where he is going. Until the end of an alley seems to have some hallway that irradiates red lights.
“Here it is.” Sejanus points out.
There’s a man with a different peacekeeper uniform. He asks Sejanus who invited him.
Coriolanus hears your full name for the first time. He learns you have two names and two last names. At the Academy you only used one of each.
“How do you know her full name?” He asks Sejanus when the man lets them inside the place.
The red lights start changing, mixing with crystal chandeliers and velvet walls.
“Our parents have made some deals in the past.” Coriolanus wants to know more. He needs more details about how you ended up in the same place as him. He doesn’t think you also paid to change districts like him.
“Hey. Whatever you plan to say to her, apologize to her. She’s a girl a million would pay to have. She just wanted to help you, Coryo” he doesn’t know how to take Sejanus. He sure sounded like always, the friend trying to give advice. But he also sounded… like he was one of the millions who would pay to have you. Coriolanus didn’t feel pleased.
Finally, the place is crowded. And the people inside look different than the ones at the bar. These people looked very clean and elegant to be in District 12.
The music is live jazz, the smell of pure tobacco and laughs everywhere. Coriolanus feels like he fits there. And he promises to talk with Lucy Gray the next day. After he left the bar she would ask where he did go.
But for now, his eyes start searching for you. A man in a suit that looked very Capitol started talking. Daring all the beautiful women there to dance, promising to crown one as the star of the night.
He hears a group of females laughing. And when he spots the group, you are being pushed to the dance floor.
Since Sejanus is nowhere to be found, Coriolanus makes his way closer to you.
He sees your natural hair down and wavy. Cranberry lips and gentle purple eyeliner around your eyes. A simple mauve dress, and he almost chokes about it.
Tigris made that dress. You asked her one day at the Academy. If she could make a dress from elegant fabric. Tigris said that she didn’t have enough to make a full gown. You didn’t care, you just hoped she could do something.
Coriolanus remembered Tigris making the dress late one night. And he tolerated you even less for making his cousin work harder. That was long forgotten when you paid her and referenced her to work with a friend of your mother.
You looked totally different. Not the same annoying material girl he knew at the Capitol. This humble version of you was totally attractive to Coriolanus.
He couldn’t tell if you were dancing tap, swing or something else, but you were good at it. A couple of times, he heard you talking with Clemensia and Arachne, about your winter concert or rehearsals. Now, it was evident you were good at dancing.
You laugh and people cheer for you. Mostly men, which for some reason makes Coriolanus tense his jaw.
The mauve fabric shined disguised under the chandeliers, and maybe it was just the sight of seeing you happy, or the way the dress hugged your body. But it made him smile. For the first time, Coriolanus feels a positive feeling about seeing you. He wants to talk to you. But he isn’t sure what he’ll say. So he opts to just see you for the night. He can see a slight layer of sweat on your forehead after two songs have passed. The crowd seemed to want you to win. And it only makes you more eager to do so.
In your head, this was a big distraction. It was the only moment of the week where you felt happy and free. It makes you forget about your pending University admission and all the drama. About your silly actions and disappointments.
The way your friends cheer and joke about making a bet to see who’d win between you and the other girl left. You really are having fun.
Until the remaining girl surrenders. It feels great. Being crowned as the star of the night, leaving the dance floor with so much admiration and looking over you.
Coriolanus sees how you cheer with your friends. You laugh and he swore he had never seen you smile and laugh so much. Maybe you are a little tipsy. He can’t tell, but after some minutes, one of your friends leaves with a man. The other two stay drinking, and you say your goodbyes.
Your dark coat covers everything once you’re ready to leave. And Coriolanus knows he shouldn’t, but he does it anyway. He starts following you.
Internally, he claims he did it because he thought it wasn’t safe for you to go back to the medical aisle in the middle of the night.
It’s not a long way. And Coriolanus notices how close his bed is to yours, literally.
He feels like an animal, following his prey. Only that he doesn’t intend to hurt you. Not more than he already had.
His legs act by themselves it seems. He keeps venturing into the decent building. It’s lonely and dark. Coriolanus notices that probably many nurses were already sleeping. He sees you enter a room, and he memorizes the number. Seconds later, when he’s about to leave, you come out again. A towel in your hand…
It’s his cue to leave. He knows it’s enough. He never should have followed you. Not when he was supposed to be listening to Lucy Gray and The Covey. Not when he paid to serve in District 12 for Lucy Gray.
But it’s too late because he’s already poking his head, and when his eyes meet your body, your coat and dress are on the floor. In a bench near lays a simple but naughty red pair of panties. Coriolanus feels himself getting red at the sight of the underwear, just red, no details, just red. Red like his cheeks, you are naked, under the spray of the shower.
As you’re supposed to be a person he barely tolerates, Coriolanus hates himself for admitting how beautiful you were.
The water coats your body in a gorgeous way. He sees your hair become slightly darker and falls longer across your back.
The shower smells like some summer fruit and it’s all because of your silly shampoo. Coriolanus had seen it before at the Capitol, it was expensive.
Something changes as you massage your scalp, giving Coriolanus a view of your soft and pretty stomach. Your breasts and some moles that are visible are the death of the man. He shouldn’t want to hold your waist and help you clean your body. He shouldn’t want to kiss every birthmark and mole covering you.
It’s the first time he sees a woman naked.
That night, you happily go to bed, soothing the heat wave. Some weight falls from your shoulders. And for the first time, you feel like everything was meant to happen, and it’s okay.
For Coriolanus, he has to touch himself to forget about your naked silhouette haunting his dirty mind. And when he ends, he takes a cold shower and falls into the tiny uncomfortable lower bunk. Sejanus was snoring already, some bunks without a host, probably still at the bars or sleeping with a lover.
Coriolanus is ready to sleep and pretend nothing happens. He would go back to his soft songbird by the morning.
But it doesn’t work. He knows he’s so messed up. Because you are still there, and not only your naked body. Your natural hair, sweet lips and the way you smiled, danced and laughed are there too.
When the sun rose, it was imminent that it was going to be a hotter day. The summer in district 12 was bright. Full of light, and green from nature in the surrounding woods. That’s not necessarily the case in the medical aisle. You woke up at 5:00 am to start your shift. Your soft hands had been classifying medicines through shelves.
“Y/n” calls one of your friends from the entrance of the storage room. She giggles after seeing you on top of the stairs, holding onto your dear life.
“Need help?” You smile, shaking your head.
“I’m okay, thanks. What happened?”
“There’s a telegram for you at the mailbox” was unusual. Only your mother called once to see how you were doing. She was still very mad at you.
“Oh, okay. I’ll go now…” with that, you hop off the stairs and leave the little box with remaining bottles on a desk.
After a minute of going downstairs in the building, you get to the mailbox. You give your name to the elder woman in the office and she hands you a cream envelope.
Making a pause in the hallway full of lockers for peacekeepers waiting for mail you open your own.
[The head of the hospital has shared with us you’re doing an outstanding job. This is what we expect from you after your return to the Capitol. Keep going and we might pull some strings to get you back earlier.
Take care, dad.]
You smile. It was enough for you. The anger was undeniably lowering. And going back to the Capitol would make you very happy. Already contemplating the perfect lie. That you went to serve as a nurse for charity, for your kind heart. Everyone would believe you, and the girls would be jealous of your bravery. Nobody would know it was a punishment.
A punishment caused by the man you had just bumped into.
He picks you the open envelope and once he hands it, he sees you.
“Y/n…” you take the envelope from his hand, avoiding the touch.
“Coriolanus” with less makeup than two nights ago, you look even more beautiful he believes. The white nurse cap was so silly, but it was part of your uniform. But he can’t help but blush after remembering how the water fell across your body. And how he touched himself that night.
“I-…Sejanus told me you were here.” Your eyebrows rise, nodding with disinterest.
“Yeah, I’m here because of you.” He sighs, realizing that his friend was right, you were really disappointed to see him.
“This isn’t what I wanted for you.” You roll your eyes. Already sick of wasting your time for him. You had been so scared to encounter him one day. But that you had him facing you, you couldn’t care less.
“Of course. Because you couldn’t care less about me…” he wants to say he actually cares. But the truth is, that before the night he saw you at the bar, he didn’t even remember you. But now, it was like you had put on a spell on him, making him want to know everything about you.
“Just stay away from sight of view and everything is going to be okay” he was shocked to hear you talk to him with much indifference. He was used to your sweet voice, asking him every morning how he was doing at the entrance of the classroom.
You were always at his feet. Helping him and doing everything so he would look down at you. And now, he actually was looking up, seeing how you went upstairs again. And he would do exactly the opposite of what you asked.
He would be everywhere if it meant seeing you again.
The bittersweet feeling of seeing Coriolanus stayed the whole afternoon until you finished your shift at 6:00pm. The heat was barely tolerable when the sun was almost gone. You went to the market, as you had promised to cook dinner for the girls that night.
The vegetables were fresh and there was a lot to pick. You carried a little basket filled with carrots, some potatoes and a piece of raw meat carefully folded. You were looking at some pair of earrings. They were handmade. With blue feathers and some tiny pieces of quartz. You smiled looking at them. When you were about to tell the little girl who was selling them, you felt very deep looks. And when you turn to the left, there is Lucy Gray and some of her friends from the band. She was sixteen, you were almost nineteen, you couldn’t pick a fight with her. She could hate you for being Capitol, for being such a bad mentor at the games. But maybe she didn’t knew that thanks to you she was alive. And the most important, she couldn’t hate you because of a man.
Before you can even feel awkward, you had already left the earrings and walked towards the girl.
“Is there anything I did to upset you, Lucy Gray? Because as far as I know we don’t know each other” that was the truth. You had your own motives to dislike her. But you hadn’t even turned to look at her. Unlike the songbird, who didn’t have a problem showing her disapproval of you with her face.
“Did you follow him here too?” You smiled. You didn’t know what Coriolanus had told her, or what she suggested on her own. Based on what happened, probably Lucy Gray believed you were the crazy stalker who couldn’t let go of Coriolanus Snow and his unrequited feelings for you.
“No. I was already here weeks before he arrived.” You simply answer her by looking at the notebooks in the table beside you. Lucy Gray couldn’t be jealous, but she had a bad omen about you.
“I was blinded by him once, just like you now. I helped him so you could win. Hoped he could choose me. And it wasn’t enough. He’s not the boy you think he is, Lucy Gray. You don’t know him like I do. But you can rest knowing I won’t lift a finger to make him notice me anymore” she seems surprised by your answer. But there’s no time for her to throw a rebuttal because you’re gone. Her friends gossip without her, saying how mean you were.
And Coriolanus had seen everything from a hidden corner. He was looking for Lucy Gray, already growing confused. Your words had gotten deep into his mind. While Lucy Gray was the sweetest girl he ever met, she also confused him. She had a rebellious side that he didn’t like. And you, he knew he would never be able to control you now, but he knew you would easily do the same things he did to win.
He stayed far, letting Lucy Gray to pass by with her friends. And when she was gone, out of the market, he came out.
He grabbed the same earrings you were looking at before.
It’s another night at the private bar. This time you know Coriolanus is there. He had the audacity to bring Lucy Gray. And you wonder if it was a good idea to tell Sejanus about the bar. Her green dress didn’t match the bar style. However, you ignore them as soon as your friends tell you they befriended a high standard peacekeeper. He had some handsome friends and they made you completely forget about Coriolanus and her songbird. You grew invested in the conversation with the men and your friends, even when one of girls makes fun of Lucy Gray and her visit to the secret bar.
Coriolanus keeps painfully turning to look at your way. He wants to go and get you out of the bar. But he already had a girl beside him. A much younger and innocent one. His anger escalates when a man takes you out to dance. You giggle as he says something in your ear. You had a pretty ruffled pink dress. Red lipstick and matching shoes.
“She looks happy…” Lucy Gray says, also looking at you.
“She isn’t happy. And that’s just an idiot” he spits pointing at the handsome peacekeeper dancing with you. He shouldn’t have said that, especially in front of Lucy Gray. But the way the man twisted you like a piece of the softest fabric, and the way he singed for you, it was taking over him.
It’s his hands that should be holding your hips. It’s his voice that should be making you dance. But Lucy Gray grabs his chin and offers him a sweet smile that makes him get lost on her brown eyes. She’s too good for him.
As he kisses her, he still feels the anger. Cause’ it should be you.
The roles had switched up. Coriolanus was infatuated by you. And now, you ignored him as if you never ever thought he was the love of your life.
Maybe is his hair, now short. Or maybe it is that deep sight he always has on you. The sweet boy that didn’t look on your way was gone.
As the days passed, you could feel the air changing. Telling you that your punishment would soon be over.
You flip through the pages, tons of files in the racks perfectly accommodated in the room. You read about all the frauds and corruption of the hospital and the military aisle. Enough to make you a dangerous target. So as soon as the headmistress nurse knows you have a long secret file in your memory, he gives you easy jobs.
And the dirty ones too.
Coriolanus follows you. Thought the archives rooms to the cold storage. He sees how there’s a tray ready to go. Some needles ready to pinch someone. And then you are changing the yellow liquid inside the injections, your face mask covering the small grin on your face. It makes him slightly shocked. He didn’t think you would be capable of doing such a thing. Some rumors flew across the militar camp. About a deal, between the heads of the hospital and the camp. Where they would secretly get rid of sick people from the district to stop wasting expensive medicines and other products.
But you hand the tray with an innocent smile.
And he grows worried. He can’t believe it, but he fears you could end up dead because of your little tricks. You leave early. So, he gains some confidence to follow you. He needs answers. He’s tired of following you to beg for your attention. It’s his lucky day that you chose to take the little trail that crossed the resting cabins of the peacekeepers. You walk past his cabin and his brain makes him walk faster, grab your forearm and push you inside it.
“What the hell?” You ask, startled. Looking at Coriolanus in shock.
The bunks are empty. Everyone is out.
“What were you doing? Switching the shots? You could get hanged or something else!” Suddenly you’re confused, questioning why he was caring now.
“There’s a lot more going on in the hospital than you could ever know, Coriolanus.” He understands it. And he isn’t surprised after all. Injustice happened everywhere.
But he wouldn’t easily let go.
“You could still get in trouble. Who’s making you do this?” You sigh frustrated, shrugging.
“Why do you care so much? Why can’t you leave me alone for once?” As you raise your voice, he grows impatient.
“I DO CARE ABOUT YOU!” Your silence makes him step closer.
“Seeing you dancing with that man, how he grabbed you, it boiled my blood.” Suddenly you feel nervous about his proximity.
And the cheeky asshole decided to step even closer.
“That shouldn’t be a problem for you” you do your best to keep the visual contact. But the way he’s looking at you is making it difficult. Especially after his lips are literally brushing your cheekbone.
“You are the one I desire.” He smashes his lips with yours. Honestly, you believe him. But it isn’t enough to make your heartbeats for him.
“Did you let that man touch you after you left?” You giggle, letting him wander under your nurse apron.
“My virginity is part of my pride and dignity” you answer, kissing his neck, letting his sneaky hands touch you everywhere. His right hand gropes your breast and the other is trying to hold the fat of your hip and ass like a starved man.
Your brain can’t work for some minutes. But you kiss him back. You decide he wouldn’t puppet you. Never again.
As he devours your lips, confirming you gave the softest kisses, yet passionate. You push him gently towards a random bed. And slowly, you get on your knees, dropping your nurse cap and navy blue cape to the floor.
Coriolanus is officially in shock as you drop his belt to the floor.
When he least expects it, you are already licking the tip of his cock. You make a wet mess of him. His head drops back, letting you do whatever you want.
He’s in heaven. Of course, you weren’t the most experienced but to be a virgin, you were quite an addictive lover.
In your head, you just can think about giving him pleasure. Your twisted plan would be effective as soon as he exploded. You put much effort in sucking and licking every vein of him. His length did not disappoint, and you mentally cursed as you realized he could’ve been your first time.
Coriolanus knows damn well it is over for him when his eyes meet yours. His tip met the back of your throat, and he ended up spilling his hot seed inside your mouth. You show him your tongue, covered in white, only to swallow everything. He gulps, feeling the remaining spasms of his orgasm.
“You’ll be the death of me…” he admits, taking a long breath.
As for you, you know it’s just a matter of time. If Coriolanus was so invested in making you look at him now, you would give him more reasons until he broke and admitted he couldn’t live without you.
So you clean your messy lipstick. Your nurse cap and navy cape perfectly in place and you look gorgeous in a mirror near the door.
“If anyone asks where I was, you say I went to drop some letters.” After that you don’t nothing else. He tucks himself inside his pants and stands quickly.
“Wait-” but you had already left.
In the night, Coriolanus starts looking out for Sejanus. He was going to ask if he wanted to go to the bar to see Lucy Gray. But he couldn’t find him. He feels his forehead sweating even in the middle of the night.
Near a little training center, he hears two recognizable voices. And when he turns into a little hallway, he sees you arguing with Sejanus.
“No, I’m not defending the Capitol, but these people are not worth risking your life, Sejanus” it’s the first thing he hears from you.
“They deserve better luck, y/n. Something we were born with.” Coriolanus sees you huffing, arms crossed as the slight wind makes your uniform cape lift.
“What’s going on?…” the blonde asks. You turn and sigh, expecting Sejanus to explain. You like to think Coriolanus would make Sejanus to think clearly. Like he did before.
There’s only silence.
“You won't tell him? I will…” you turn to Coriolanus. He can feel you are angry; you disapprove whatever it was happening with Sejanus.
“He’s helping some rebels.” Sejanus only looks down.
“They’re not rebels.”
“Well, they’re definitely not on the right track. And helping them will only lead to trouble.”
“Why are you doing this?” Coriolanus joins. He sounds tired, immediately remembering how he had to literally fight in the Hunger Games to save him.
“They are suffering. They don’t have anyone.” Sejanus replies.
“If you weren’t helping them, they would put a bullet in your head before you could even blink. They are not worth risking your life, Sejanus. I don’t want to see you hanged.”
“I appreciate your worries, y/n. I really do. But this is the least I can do after all the things my parents have aligned for me.” Your eyes water. Even after all the horrible you have done at the Capitol, as a nurse, you cared for Sejanus and Coriolanus. You might have been playing a game of manipulation with Coriolanus, but if he ended up in a mess that threatened his life, you would fear. The same for Sejanus.
“Sejanus…” Coriolanus felt slightly bad after seeing you at the verge of tears. He knew behind that new mask of indifference you were very soft.
“If something happens to you, I’m gonna live mad at you for the rest of my life. Life made us end up here for him…” you say pointing at Coriolanus.
And it’s true, you were sent to the 12 for punishment. Sejanus literally followed him just because.
“That’s enough penitence.” Feeling the tears flow, you start walking away.
Sejanus also feels wrong. But he’s confident. Both men stare at you, and different thoughts run through their heads.
“If anything happens, Coryo… Take good care of her.” Coriolanus looks at his friend.
He thinks you deserve more. He finally accepts there’s more to win by your side rather than following the songbird. Yet, he couldn’t push away Lucy Gray yet.
“I’ll take care of her, Sejanus.”
You don’t see the boys for the next two days. Until the night. When for emergency protocol you had to work. A fight in the bar caused some injuries to many men. So, there you are at 1:00 am sending gazes and bottles of alcohol. And when you are about to clean your own space, after a knock on your door, you see Coriolanus and Lucy Gray.
Unbelievable.
“What happened?” You ask as soon as you see him properly. The tray on your hands falls to the ground, making a loud sound. There’s blood on his face, a dark splotch on the right side of his nose. Beside him is Lucy Gray. Wearing one her bohemian dresses with her rural touch of always. You go to inspect his face.
“Got into a fight.” Coriolanus explains. You frown, thinking that is very ignorant and low. Completely disappointed of him for joining the cause.
“You got into the fight? Why?” He sighs, and Lucy Gray only huffs, helping him to sit on a bench. You ignore her, proceeding to take some cotton and equipment to stitch the little wound on his cheekbone. Your fingers are cold, and make him squirm as soon as they touch him.
“Some guy. He got violent after harassing her” of course it had to be for Lucy Gray all the commotion. Everything makes sense, the fight at the bar you listened to less than an hour ago. The songbird must’ve performed, and someone made a mess.
You can’t feel bad for her. While half of the district loved her, there was a considerable amount of people who disliked her, rumors saying she carried problems wherever she went.
“Hmm.” you have a lot to say, but you won’t spit everything at once. Coriolanus sighed, pretending it was because the alcohol was touching his skin, but it was because you weren’t pleased.
Even in his exile, he was between two women again. And while he couldn’t push away Lucy Gray, he couldn’t let you go too.
“Can you give us a moment, Lucy Gray?” he asks calmly. And maybe her reaction wasn’t meant to, but she showed that it made her uncomfortable.
“Sure. I’ll wait outside…” awkwardly she made a smile to the man seated in front of you and left.
Silence took over. You continued to clean the wound, and his deep blue eyes were locked on your face.
Finally, he was able to see your real beauty. Bare amounts of makeup. Hair down and short nails. No crazy looks, ridiculous hairstyles and cat nails. This was the real you.
“I didn’t start the fight…” he started.
“But of course, it had to be for her.” you finish for him. Again, he sighs, trying to avoid any possible irritation.
“It wasn’t her fault what happened.”
“Oh my god. Just listen to yourself! … Everything is her fault!” You burst after finishing with the needle.
“Why do you hate her so much?” He asks irritatedly, shrugging and expecting you to answer soon.
“I don’t hate her. I couldn’t care less for that poor girl. But she’s the reason why you got so obsessed with winning the damn prize. She’s the reason why you cheated and she’s the reason why you’re exiled, and I’m punished” he knows it’s true. In a matter of weeks, Coriolanus repeatedly questioned why Lucy Gray. And until two weeks ago, when he started questioning why not you.
Coriolanus smirks. Finding a way to evade a deeper conversation. He wasn't ready for the time to come where he had to decide. Lucy Gray or you.
“You sound like you’re jealous” he actually thought you would deny it.
“Of course it makes me jealous, Coriolanus!”
His smile fades away. You curse under your breath, moving aside to pick up the nursing equipment. There was no way back, and you wouldn’t lie.
“Ever since I met you, I wanted you to like me. And all I received were mean looks and judgmental jokes. About my hair, my lipstick, my dress, everything” you admit, sounding a little hurt.
“And this girl comes, and in less than two months she has you doing the impossible for her” you mumble. Coriolanus was never the romantic type. He was a man of few words and very analytical. He wasn’t a fan of the districts, so you wondered what could possibly be the reason for him to get obsessed with the songbird.
“Do you love her?” For you, it was a simple question. You always faced your feelings. But for Coriolanus, he tended to avoid his feelings.
He looked at the ground, at your boots before looking up at you.
“Why are you making this so complicated?” He asks, in hopes to avoid the real question.
“You won’t have both girls, Coriolanus.” When you come back at him, he stares directly at his view, at your waist. He focuses on the details of the grey and white fabric decorating you. There’s a tiny spot of blood near your breast, and some dirt near where he thought it was your belly button.
For sure, he knows he won’t have both girls.
“And as much as she tries to make you fit in. You don’t belong here. You and I were educated to live in The Capitol.” He’s well aware that with Lucy Gray, he would be pursuing a humble peaceful life. With you, he would be pursuing a luxurious and firm life.
The harder you are pushing his buttons, the harder you’re manipulating him. You trace his chin and neck, fingers grasping his silver chain. And you know he’s getting soft, vulnerable for your touch.
Maybe he changed his perspective of you after seeing you dance. After seeing you naked in the showers. After realising the type of woman you were.
“I would love to see when realization hits you. You’ll see that she only used you. You’ll notice that I was on your side and could’ve been for the rest of my life” his jaw tenses. He looks you in the eye again. You smile, thumb on his lower lip.
“And pretend as much as you can, selling me that face of I don’t care about you. But I know you do; you’re just blinded by the songbird. Count the days till she uses her singing against you. It’ll be too late.”
He hates losing, missing things. And you know it.
“She makes me want to be someone better.” His best attempt to soothe you makes you laugh.
“The summer will be over, and I’ll leave. She won’t inspire you to grow. She will make you lay still. I’ll be at the top of the Capitol again. And you couldn’t make your house rise…” that hit him in his pride. The fact that your words were true. He thought about Tigris and his grandmother. They deserved better.
“I want you to be someone better. And yet, you’re here. Without the prize, without being home. Just picture it… Where would you be if you had chosen me?” He really wanted to choose you. He just needed a fucking reason. But once again, you have disappeared.
He cared. But he cared more for himself.
That doesn't make him feel better though. He had doomed Sejanus Plinth by recording his words.
He couldn’t sleep, knowing that anything could happen the following morning. He has a tiny brown bag in his hand, clutched as if it was made of pure gold. He can’t wait, and he can’t sleep. So, he sneaks out of the camp and goes to your room. He needed to see you, he needed to choose you. That would mean leaving. Concentrating on you and his family. Pursuing the Capitol’s type of future, away from the country life.
Your friends were about to leave to go to the secret bar. And they tell him you were gone to the lake. It makes him realize how much you had to be overthinking. Just by seeing you, anyone could tell you weren’t from the districts. Spending the night in the lake wasn’t pleasant at all. With animals, mosquitoes, and the humid heat of the woods.
But he walks in the darkness. Hearing some crickets and frogs that guide him to the little visible light at the end of the trial. The more he walks towards it, the more he can distinguish you.
There you are sitting over a blanket. Reading a book, wearing a long pastel nightgown. The sight makes him smile.
He steps over a branch and makes you turn worried. But as soon as you spot him, you sigh, closing the book.
“What are you doing here?” You ask.
“I could ask the same question. It’s nearly midnight.” He sits beside you on the blanket, you only shrug, facing away from him, looking at the barely noticeable reflect of the lake under the moon.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither” there’s a lot of things he wants to say, you want to scream it too.
“I wanted to give you this…” he hands you the brown bag. Frowning, you take it, your fingers brushing his, but you opt to ignore it.
When you dig your hands inside, you feel something soft. And when you see what’s inside, you can’t help but cheekily smile.
It’s the feather earrings you wanted at the market. He probably collected the least he could to pay for them. Or maybe he traded something. It’s uncertain, but you can’t deny it warmed your heart a little.
“You saw me?” He nods, watching how you cautiously caressed the pair.
“Then you must’ve heard me too…” Coriolanus heard it. But he would pretend the opposite. Just to avoid the question.
“I didn’t. I was passing by when you were looking at them. What happened?” You tilt your head, putting the earrings on.
“Your songbird is jealous of me… Does she know about the good time we had the other day?” He blushes, closing his eyes out of embarrassment.
“How do I look?” When he opens his eyes, he sees you have the earrings on. The blue feathers looked very outstanding in the middle of the dark. The light you brought did not make any justice to the beauty of your face. Barely highlighting your eyes and lips.
“You look beautiful…” there’s something on your mind. You want to ask so badly. And while you could pry about his thoughts of your new appearance, you don’t. Your voice slightly trembling as you start speaking.
“Did you and Sejanus have anything to do with the death of the daughter of the mayor and the boyfriend?” He closes his eyes.
“No.”
“Coriolanus Snow… Do not lie to me.” his arms come to rest on his bent knees. And you know the truth through his breathing.
“Sejanus went too far. I wanted to keep him alive” you sigh, feeling already stressed. Panic invades you, fearing for both boys.
“What if this is just what you two needed to end up in real trouble?” He looks at you, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He wanted a hug from you. He wanted you to love him like he knew you did during the Academy days. Just to feel some sense of normality. That this isn’t what his life turned out to…
“What if he gets killed. What if you get killed?”
“It won’t happen. It’ll be okay” your nails were going to suffer from anxiety. But he places a hand on your bare shoulder, calming you.
“Why can’t you give me a rest, Coriolanus?” He knows what you mean, and it makes his heart grow soft.
“Honestly. Before the games I barely tolerated you. But after seeing you here and everything that happened, you’re right. I can’t have both girls.” It makes you weak.
“What made you look at me? Why now?” He sighs.
Firstly, it was pure lust, your body. But at this point, he knew he could potentially end up alone. And he refused to let go of the person he had won since the beginning.
“Because I wasn't able to appreciate that I had you. And… I don’t want to be alone.” You nod, analyzing his words.
“But you have her. Since when is she not enough?” Coriolanus had to accept how analytical you were. He can be honest and be in peace with you or lie and keep fighting for you.
“I don’t think she’s ever been enough. We don’t have much in common. Just that we are orphans… if she never came along… I swear I know I would have ended up by your side.” You think you understand him. He just realized what he lost. And now he was trapped to decide. However, you were not going to give your heart again. Only time or a life-or-death situation would make you admit you still loved him.
“I said it before, I’ll repeat it again. I won’t be here forever…” he leaned closer. His hand caressing your chin, appreciating how soft your skin was. He wanted to crown your head with flowers and promise he was yours. Just not yet.
“I know…” his nose brushes yours, the tension grows and this time, you are the one closing distance to kiss him. You are so close to winning, to have him begging for you.
That night, he keeps kissing you, you read him your book for a bit and before realising it, both of you end up sleeping on the blanket.
In the morning, he finds you undressing to take a quick splash in the lake.
When you realize he’s awake, you smile at him.
“Morning…” like a slow striptease, you let the nightgown fall and he just stares at your body with the first rays of sun illuminating you.
“I don’t think this is a dream. Right?” You chuckle before your body disappears under the water.
It’s the perfect invitation. He joins you, and the first minutes of his morning are spent kissing you. Only to end up in the same blanket both of you slept on. With him on top of you.
“Tell me to stop now.” He says in your mouth. Your leg slowly slides through his ankle, sending shivers through his spine.
“I think it’s too late for that.”
He returns you the favor. His head between your legs is the most erotic thing he’s ever heard or seen in his life. It’s so dirty, eating you out in the middle of the wild. You taste better than expected, and it feels simple, even natural to please you. He can see how your back arches when his nose gently touches your clit. He feels so proud, and he can already see how well you two could handle being lovers. He remembers how you sucked his cock and how good you did it.
To you, you felt some insecurity, because he hadn’t decided on you. But you already feel the lead being on your side. Soon that thought fades away, because the pleasure is becoming too much. And you’re ready to receive the upcoming orgasm.
You forget about Lucy Gray, Sejanus, the deaths, your return to the Capitol.
Everything is gone as soon as you feel him. Even the pride and dignity you talked about on losing your virginity.
It just feels like it was meant to be.
“You’re so perfect…” he says, eyes on your stretch marks, fingers tracing them before moving towards north and pinching your nipples.
The way you clench around him, his lips leaving red marks on your breasts that would soon turn purple. Your moans, and your dirty mouth cursing.
“Fuck- oh, Coryo!” He couldn’t believe you just cursed. But he then realized he was fucking you. Maybe he had already chosen.
“More, please-“ you manage to say between moans. And he’s in heaven again. He fucks you harder, faster, already feeling he was close too. The silver chain dangling just in front of your face. You swear he had split you in half, but the pain was nothing compared to pleasure.
“Wait for me. We’ll do it together” you nod, noticing how intimate and passionate your first time was being. He wanted you to wait for him. And it made your heart clench. You need to hold him. So, your arms hug him, and he understands, leaning to end up with your foreheads together.
In a matter of seconds, you both reach climax.
“Promise me you’ll be careful” he nods, kissing you one last time.
“It’s gonna be fine.”
But it isn’t. You run as soon as your friends say Sejanus Plinth was going to be hanged for treason. You run and your feet burn.
When you make it, you have to hear him screaming for Coriolanus. You start reaching the front faster. But you meet his blue eyes, and you are able to see him saying no to you. Your heart beats fast, sweat on your forehead and eyes watering faster than ever.
When you look at Sejanus again, his neck broke and he was already hanging.
Coriolanus sees the shock and terror on your face. The birds flying and repeating the last words of Sejanus make it worse. He holds the rifle firmly, but his eyes water too.
He follows you as soon as he’s able to leave. Too many things happening at the same time. And he really regrets not noticing you before. None of his life would’ve been ruined.
He finds you alone in your room. Your friends were working. But you were crying on the floor, covering your face and sobbing loudly. His heart broke, and he let some tears fall too. So he couldn’t resist it anymore. He went to hug you tightly.
As soon as you felt him, you hugged him back.
“He deserved better…” you mumble between sobs. You say he was a good man. But soon your sobs stop, and Coriolanus can almost hear you plotting.
“Where is the gun you used, Coriolanus?” His heart stops, and that’s his epiphany.
“I don’t know. Lucy Gray must know…” the girl could easily be fast to learn where it was. You remain silent.
After some minutes of crying, he’s still holding your hands.
“Lucy Gray wants me to go with her outside of the districts…” you don’t have the strength to laugh, but you really wanted to.
“One last time. Do you love her, Coriolanus?” He knows it’s time and there’s no going back. So he sighs, feelings the dry tears on his face.
“No.”
Your soul can finally rest.
“In two days, I’m leaving. I got accepted by Gaul into University. I just learned this morning after receiving mail.” He looks deep at your eyes. Trying to understand what you just said.
“Then you are going with Lucy Gray. You find the gun and if needed… Also get rid of her” you knew Lucy Gray was there when the incident happened. You had also made up your mind. And you would give Coriolanus one last chance.
“I’ll wait for you for two days. If you come back, you know I’ll be yours. But if you decide to stay with her, I’ll understand. And your secret will die with me.” He feels you kiss his cheek and after that, you quietly leave. Giving him no choice but to pack to meet Lucy Gray at the Hanging Tree.
You wait impatiently for your train. Coriolanus was gone. He didn’t return. So, you wait with your heart full of fissures. Your violet dress makes you a target among the station. You look very Capitol again. But something from District 12 changed you.
And then you hear him. Calling your name.
When you turn, you see Coriolanus almost running towards you. You can feel some tears forming. Your messed up mind was ignoring all the hell he made you feel and see. Like he never killed anyone, like he didn’t take so long to choose you. Like you didn’t know he consciously chose to be a bad person.
He looks agitated, with his peacekeeper uniform intact. His blue eyes look thrilled. Like a lot of emotions were invading him at the same time.
And the first thing he does when he’s in front of you, is to smash his lips with yours.
It takes you by surprise. The way his free hand immediately goes to your chin. In the middle of the train station. Feels like you were meeting your lover who survived war. It feels wrong to be savoring the moment you realize Coriolanus Snow finally chose you.
At that very moment you tangle your arms around his neck, stepping on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss. He feels you smiling, and that’s all he needed.
He needed to kiss you to forget about the cabin, the birds, the gun and Lucy Gray Baird.
And he does, your lips assuring him it was okay.
He isn’t evil, he can’t be when a sweet woman like you was kissing him back.
It was delicate for sure.
“Is it over?” You ask between tears. He nods, smiling, holding you close to him.
“Everything is over now.” You won’t ask what happened. You will just savor the victory.
“I can go to the Capitol. Gaul wants to see me” your eyes shine, relief flowing across you. Knowing you will be able to go back home with him.
“Where does this leave us?” He chuckles.
“We’re marrying as soon as we make it to District 2, dear” he kisses you to soothe your shock.
Almost at the end of the ride on the train, you chuckle looking at the window. He looks with curiosity, still drooling over you wearing the earrings he gave you. They would be his reminder that you had been there since the beginning, when he had nothing to offer. And yet, you stayed.
“What?” He finally asks.
“We’re a liability, you know?” A smile forms on his face. He shouldn’t be smiling, but he does anyways.
“I would repeat everything if it meant ending up here with you” and it was true. Because he would receive the money from the Plinth family, he would be able to study from Gaul, with you. He would get rid of Highbottom, and anyone on his way. But what seemed to be the most urgent matter, was to make you his wife.
But for now, he just takes your hand, kissing it.
….
Soft!Coriolanus fic is next. Hint? It’s gonna be based on Supercut from Lorde. Thanks to my crush with Tom Blyth, I realized Reputation and Melodrama are my favorite albums on earth. If you want to be tagged on the next fic, comment!!!!!!!! <3.
Taglist: @peachyharht @toogardenheart @slytherinholland @futurecorps3 @asapkyndall @speedycashflowerbasketball
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Hi, I didn’t see a what not to request thing so ignore this if your not comfortable writing death - but can I request Coriolanus Snow x reader who is a tribute in the games but dies and there’s nothing he can do about it. Just pure angst.
The Fall Of Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
Summary: She was just supposed to be a pawn in his games, a way to get the Plinth Prize. He wasn't supposed to care. She was just a tribute, after all.
Warning/s: angst, death, kind-of-psycho Snow, Snow in love, crying, probably some spelling and/or grammar mistakes
Author's note: So Snow's actions and behavior may be a little out of his character here, but that is because I made him helplessly in love with reader. I hope this is okay. Enjoy!
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The red chair where he sat now seemed to uncomfortable to sit in.
Coriolanus' already strong grip on the armrests of the chair somehow just seemed to tighten, he felt certain that he will probably brake the wood out of which the chair is made of. He felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead as he felt the uncomfortable feeling of shivers going down his spine.
His breathing became raspy, his academy's red uniform somehow became tighter around his neck. He felt like he was grasping the last strings of air in the room crowded with the other mentors, he felt like he was breathing just for the hell of it.
His chest started to squeeze so much it started to hurt him.
He couldn't get the air to tear through to his lungs, and for the first time in a long time Coriolanus' vision became blurry with tears.
He knew that she would be dead either way. She was from District 12 for God's sake! She was the weakest target. Her lack of throat-slicing, bloodthirsty, violent nature was going to be her downfall the moment she stepped into that arena.
She was quite small, weak even, but not like that was surprising to him. She came from the loser District. She was somehow a person who wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill someone. Even if it was a stranger.
He knew all of this, therefore he didn't have any reason to be surprised.
Yet it felt like he was going to choke on the uncomfortable, unbearable even, feeling of something in his throat as he felt cameras moving onto his face to capture the moment where a tribute lost a mentor. Or rather mentor losing their tribute. But this wasn't like the times before, with the other mentors, with his classmates, that left the room before him.
He knew that this is different. He felt it.
Coriolanus Snow was aware that he was supposed to have the control of his emotions like many times before.
Right now, what he was supposed to do is what was expected of him to do. Look into the camera and wave it off. Play it off as if he was just happy to be here. To play a modest, charming, bright and above all young Capitol citizen and to lean over toward Lucky Flickerman's microphone, that was already showed into his face, and to answer the questions with a charming smile pressed onto his face.
Yet he couldn't even look away from the screen on the wa in the middle of the room, let alone answer Lucky Flickerman's questions like many before him.
He watched her dead body on the floor in the middle of the arena with a shaky breath that left his lips without his permission.
Lucky Flickerman's questions rang next to his ear.
It seems like he was repeatedly asking him something yet Coriolanus somehow never heard him. Every noise in the room came into his ears as a form of beeping.
His vision blurry even tho he tried to stop it.
The only noise that seemed to constantly increase its volume is his ragged breathing.
Coriolanus watched as another tribute grabbed her body by the ankles as he started to drag her over to the pile of bodies that belonged to other deceased tributes.
Coriolanus watched her laid out hand dragging itself after her, her hair everywhere as one single tear slid down her eyes that were still open.
Haunting him.
Why didn't he do more? What didn't he save her? Why didn't she win? She should have won...
She should have won.
Coriolanus Snow didn't know how it happened and why was it happening.
He suddenly stood up, his hand gripping something in the pocket of his uniform, and without even spearing one glance towards Lucky Flickerman, Clemensia who tried to grab his shoulder before he did something stupid.
He didn't spare a glance at anyone for that matter as his legs carried him away from his chair, away from the room, away from the look of her dead body.
He walked out of the room as fast as he could, trying not to look at any cameras.
He pulled the handkerchief that she used before she was violently thrown into the games to fight for her own life.
It was still wet from her tears.
He felt his own tear dropping onto the handkerchief, mixing with her tears. The tears of his now forever lost tribute.
Coriolanus Snow promised something to himself that day.
When he gets married one day, he will do it out of profit, out of perhaps mutual interest, not out of love.
Never out of love.
Love he had for his tribute brought him here. It brought him this tight feeling in his chest that, no matter what happens or what he does, he can't get rid of.
As he wiped one lost tear with her (his) handkerchief, he promised himself to never loose control ever again.
Yet he knew one thing. Those eyes, hair and smile would haunt him forever, as long as he was alive, but he will gladly remember it. The last thing, along with the handkerchief, he had left of her. His love, his tribute, that died in the arena.
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TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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1dumblondi · 2 years
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(they’re not the same picture - I swear! 😳😳)
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0anonnymouslyours0 · 4 months
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corio w lucy grays older sister +18 (my guys a bit of a perv in this)
when coriolanus snow is assigned to work at district 12, he is surprised to arrive and find lucy gray with an older sister. a pretty, sweet, innocent older sister, who everyone in the district adores. corio knows hes completely wrong for you, how his capitol blood would taint your purity, but he is enthralled by you. he sees you sing in the bar, with lucy gray, but his eyes are always on you, with flowers in your hair, and a pink flowy dress.
when corio is invited to the lake he jumps at the opportunity to see you again. and when you take of your pretty sundress, and reveal your tiny bathers, nipples visibly perked and hard through the material, coriolanus uses up the very last amount of his control.
he spends all his nights tossing and turning, sneaking of into the bathroom to relieve his aching cock, while images of you run through his head. little does he know, your also preoccupied with thoughts of him, just as eager to see him again.
to his surprise, hes invited to the lake again by you, and you swim with the others as coriolanus watches from afar, adding new mental pictures do his nightly routine. however, when you come out the lake, in the same little bathers, you invite him into the woods with you to search for some berries.
"careful of the snakes" you warn him, as you search the forest floor for food. when you yell to say you've found some, your hand them to him, and very carefully coriolanus takes one and opens your lips with his thumb, feeding you the berry. your eyelids are heavy and hooded, arousal evident in your body, even from the simplest action. coriolanus is delighted at the effect he seems to have on you, so now, every chance he has, he comes to see you.
your relationship progresses quickly, and only a few months in, coriolanus has tainted you, and turned you into his own little whore, begging for him every night. his once love of lucy gray now forgotten, as he dotes on you, entirely under your spell.
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i-upset-to-dead-65 · 5 months
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How I imagine Snow's progression of being reminded of Lucy Gray throughout the Hunger Games trilogy
1. Katniss volunteers. How cute. She has no chance of living past the bloodbath. Her name sounds familiar.
2. Katniss scores an 11 in training. So what she shot an arrow at the game makers. Well, that 11 will put a target on her and she's no match for the rest.
3. Peeta reveals he is in love with Katniss. What an interesting angle. Definitely some kind of ploy. Viewership will be up, as well as sponsors. Interesting to see how this plays out.
4. Katniss is trapped by the careers and Peeta. Aw, look, she dropped a hive on her boyfriend. Looks like she doesn't like him after all.
5. Katniss allies with Rue. Odd, and a terrible choice for an ally.
6. Rue mentions her pin, a mockingjay. The connection is made. Katniss, that swamp potato dug up by Lucy Gray and her mockingjays that still infest the districts. His dislike for Katniss grows.
7. Rue dies and Katniss sings the Meadow Song to her. A jolt runs up his spine. That old song, sung to Maude Ivory by Lucy Gray. It's still around in District 12 and now it's on national television. Snow knows how much the Capitol loves singing tributes.
8. The new rules are announced. This will be interesting. Of course, there's no way Peeta will live long enough for there to actually be two victors.
9. Katniss and Peeta are in the cave, and Peeta begins to recover. The huge influx of sponsored gifts is concerning. Katniss will hopefully die at the Feast trying to get medicine.
10. Peeta makes a full recovery. That wasn't supposed to happen, but the Capitol loves it.
11. Cato dies. Seneca didn't think they'd get this far. Time to revoke the rule change. Katniss will kill Peeta or vice versa. These children barely know each other, and in the Games they resort to their basic human nature of violence. Oh look, she's even pointing her bow at him.
12. The berries. The double victory. Seneca Crane is a dead man. They have outsmarted the idiot game makers. Snow is once again reminded of his cheating in order to help Lucy Gray win. How well that turned out for her in the end.
13. After the games. Snow is certain they are putting on an act to survive and meanwhile, defy the Capitol. Peeta is good with the crowd and is quick witted. So much like Lucy Gray. Katiss is impulsive and heartfelt. So much like Sejanus.
14. Snow learns Katniss hunts in the woods, he possibly traces her lineage, and he finds out everything he can about her. Snow takes measures to quell the rebellion brewing and control Katniss and Peeta throughout Catching Fire.
15. Katniss's wedding dress burns away into a Mockingjay dress. That damn bird again.
16. The force field gets blown out, and tributes escape. Snow recalls when the 10th Hunger Games arena was bombed.
17. Katniss's first propo is televised in the districts, declaring herself the Mockingjay. He should have killed all those birds when he had a chance.
18. The Hanging Tree propo airs. He'd almost forgotten Lucy Gray's songs. How could this girl, now, know them? The song was banned, Lucy Gray was dead. She was dead, right?
19. The rebels in District 5 sing the Hanging Tree while blowing up the damn. Chills run up his spine as he watches the live feed. A crowd of an indiscernable number flood the walkways to the hydro dam. They're singing a song they didn't know yesterday. A song no one knew until now. A song that was as dead as Lucy Gray. Except, she wasn't dead. How could she be, if her song is still sung? The dam blows and the lights go out in the Capitol. Snow half expects the ghost of Lucy Gray herself to appear before him.
20. The war is over. The Mockingjay has won. She appeared from nowhere, echoing the songs of Lucy Gray like the birds themselves. Well played, Lucy Gray. Well played.
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phoward89 · 1 month
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Based on this ask
Dark!Coriolanus, Delulu!Coriolanus, StepDaddy!Coriolanus, DaddyCoriolanus
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You've known Coriolanus Snow ever since you were kids. Your fathers were serving in the war together, in 12, and you both lived in the same building. Hell, he was the one you ran to when an officer came to your door with the heartbreaking news that your father was killed deep in the woods of District 12 by rebels alongside General Crassus Snow.
Coriolanus’ father.
Coriolanus, despite being a young orphan boy, hugged you and tried to give you comfort. He told you that he'd be your best friend forever.
God, you both were 8 when that happened.
Fast forward 13 years and now, at age 21, you’re finding yourself running to his door once again over another life change.
This time though, you’re going to him to make an announcement. An announcement that would change your friendship. One that he'd most likely view as scandalous.
But you had to tell him before he found out from gossip.
When the elevator doors dinged open, you stepped out onto the 12th floor. Taking a deep breath, you closed the distance between you and the penthouse door.
You prayed that he wouldn't push you away after your announcement.
He was the only real friend you had left after Sejanus' death. It'll kill you if Coryo cuts ties with you because of the situation you're in.
Even though you were afraid of his reaction to your news, you balled your hand up into a fist and quickly knocked on the door. God, you were so nervous to see him. Maybe you should just tell him your news in the doorway and then run off in shame?
Yea, that's what you should do. No way in hell is Coriolanus Snow, an assistant game maker to Dr. Gaul and a University student only a year away from graduating with degrees in both military strategies and political science, going to stick by your side once you tell him your scandalous news. What you've got to tell him is a big no no in proper Capitol society.
God, he'll probably just call you a whore and turn you away once he hears it.
The door opened, revealing Coriolanus standing in the doorway. A wide smile cracked his face open as his icy blue eyes took in your presence. “Darling, I wasn't expecting a visit from you today.” Reaching for your hand, he said, “Come in, we'll have tea with Grandma'am.”
You snatched your hand away from him before his long fingers could grasp it. Your eyes fell to study his floor shines (damn, you never realize how big his shoes- well his feet, were til now. Like damn…), as you told him, “I can't stay for tea. I only came by to tell you something; then leave.”
“Surely you can come inside and sit with me. Grandma’am adores you and whatever you have to tell me, you can do it while we have tea.”
“Coryo, I can't.” You heavily sighed.
Coriolanus furrowed his brows, your words making him concerned. You've never declined the invite to come in and have tea before. Usually you'd just walk on in, shoulders brushing by his, whenever you came over. The fact that you refused to move an inch, never made any motion to come inside, concerned him.
Instantly, he was placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and tilting your chin up with his knuckles. Your worried eyes meet his baby blues. Baby blues that searched the windows of your soul for answers on why you were acting so unlike yourself.
Even tho he'd never admit it, Coriolanus was worried. The way you were acting was so unlike you; it scared him.“Y/N, what's wrong? What aren't you telling me?”
“I'm pregnant.” You told your best friend, breath shaky, afraid that he'd view you with the same stigma and shame that Capitol citizens viewed unwed mothers with.
You're pregnant?
Pregnant!
Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. How did this happen? Okay, he knows how it happened. But he just didn't know that you were fucking somebody.
How could have Coriolanus missed the fact that you were seeing somebody; fucking somebody? Weren't people so disgustingly happy and flighty when they were young and in love? When they were having their innocence stripped away?
And then another thought struck him. One that made his blood boil. You had no reason to tell him that you were knocked up (since in the Capitol accidental unwed pregnancies always led to quick weddings) unless whoever got you in trouble abandoned you; forsaken and tricked you.
Had betrayed you.
And now you need your Coryo to fix everything; make everything all better.
“Who do I need to threaten?” The platinum blonde asked you, dead ass, and it took you by surprise.
You were expecting Coryo to be upset with you, disgusted even, but you weren't expecting him to ask who the baby daddy was and to offer to threaten them. Yea…That took you off guard.
“Coryo, you don't need to do that.”
“Of course I need to do that.” Coriolanus simply said. He rubbed your shoulders in a comforting manner while telling you, “Whoever got you into your delicate condition buttered you up with lies only to use you and turn their back on you. They betrayed you; broke your heart and I'm going to make them pay.”
“Coriolanus, no.” You shook your head. “You're not going to go hunting down my ex to maim him because he's not ready to be tied down.”
“Yes, I'm going to do exactly that because that scoundrel knocked you up and ran away from his responsibilities. He's living his life, without any second thoughts of you, while you're at risk of social damnation.”
“And here I thought you'd send me away and call me a whore, but instead you want to confront Livinius.” You scoffed incredulously.
“Livinius? As in Livia Cardew’s older brother, Livinius Cardew?” Coriolanus asked, his baritone full of disgust, as his icy blue eyes narrowed and turned cold.
Oh shit…did you just accidentally tell Coryo that Vinny’s the one that knocked you up? Yea…you did…
“I'm going to kill him.” Coryo swore as steam literally came out of his ears. He was so mad it wasn't even funny.
Hoping to calm him down, you placed your hands on his chest. “Coryo, please don't. Just leave it alone.”
Locking his eyes with yours, Coryo asked, “Do you love him?”
Did you love Livinius? No, you didn't. You only went out with him because your mother pushed you to. Your mother who had disowned you once you told her that you're pregnant. You did care about Vinny tho, even if you didn't love him.
“No.” You shook your head. “I don't love him, but I was with him long enough to care.”
Coriolanus was relieved that you didn't love Livinius, but he thought you were foolish for still caring about him. He didn't want you to feel worse than you did, so he gave you the well meaning advice of, “Well, stop caring about him because he surely doesn't care about you.”
You were feeling a bit overwhelmed emotionally (blame it on the hormones) so you told your best friend, “Thank you for not turning me away, but I think I better go now.”
“I know how much of a bitch Helenium can be. Where are you staying?”
“Coryo…” You heavily sighed, not wanting to get into things with him about your mother kicking you out and disowning you.
“Jesus, she kicked you out, didn't she?” Coriolanus concluded with bitterness in his voice.
“Yea.” You confirmed with a nod. “I've been staying at a hotel near the rail station for now. It's just until I can get a job and find an apartment.”
“You're pregnant, Y/N. You don't need to stress about working long hours in retail and finding some shithole flat to stay warm in.” The platinum blonde said, only to push his apartment door open as wide as it'd go. Ushering you in with a large hand on your shoulder, he said, “Come on, you’re staying with me.”
“Coryo, you don't need to put me up. Really, I'm fine staying at the hotel until I figure things out.” You told him, as he closed the door behind you.
Turning you around to look at him, he told you, “I know that I don't need to do anything, but I want you to stay with me because you're my best friend. It's always been my job to protect you; keep you safe, Y/N.”
How could you argue with that? He was only looking out for you. Was only doing what he's always done for you, which was to try and protect you.
You let out a heavy sigh, only to tell him, “Okay, but it'll only be temporary. I promise, I'll figure something out.”
“You don't need to figure something out because I said you're staying with me. And don't worry about the expenses, I'm more than capable of handling it.”
“Okay.” You gave in, knowing fighting your best friend (who was as stubborn as a mule) on livng with him was a losing battle. “But, please, don't tell Grandma’am yet. I can't bare to see her disappointment at me about once she finds out.” You told Coriolanus while letting him usher you out of the entrance hall.
“Okay, we won't tell Grandma’am until you're ready.” Coriolanus agreed to your request before the living room came into view.
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“I still can't believe you have a car.” You told Coriolanus as he opened the passanger’s side door of his black luxury sedan for you. The car looked imported, but you weren't sure since you didn't know much about cars. Well, other than how to sit in them that is.
“I told you, darling, I’ve got money now.” Coriolanus told you, a smug smirk painted on his lush lips, before shutting the door and rounding the car to the driver's side. He opened the door and took his seat behind the wheel. “So, do you have a lot of things at the motel?”
“No.” You shook your head as your best friend cranked the car engine to life. “Just a cardboard box of stuff and a couple trash bags of clothes.” You told him as he pulled out of the parking lot behind the Corso apartments.
“You have your clothes in garbage bags!?” Coriolanus exclaimed, giving you a scandalous look. “Little dove, you should've came to me as soon as Helenium kicked you out. I would've moved your things from the 8th floor to the 12th.”
“I didn't come to you right away because my mother gave me enough money to rent a hotel room for a few weeks. I had things under control; I just came over today to tell you about my pregnancy so you wouldn't find out from gossip.”
“Y/N, you don't have things under control. You're living in a one star hotel by the Panem Rail station, you're living out of trash bags, and you're unemployed.”
“Corio-” You began, only for your bestfriend to cut you off with, “Don't, Y/N, don't you dare try to convince me that you're okay because I know you're not.” He switched lanes (without using his blinkers, which is a big no no), while telling you, “You need my help and I'm in the position to give it to you. The Plinths, after losing Sejanus, have made me their heir and are very generous to me and my family.” His icy blue eyes looked between you and the road, only to say, “I'm not that poor boy giving you most of his share of cabbage and broth after letting you sleep over. I'm able to help you; support you the way you need now.”
“I know, but I don't want to be dependent on you.” What you left out was that you didn't want him taking care of a baby that wasn't his problem. He had the world at his fingertips, he didn't need his best friend's scandal holding him back.
“You're not dependent on me, darling. We're bestfriends and I want to help you.” Coriolanus told you while turning a corner and nearly clipping a car.
Oh hell, how did he even pass his driver's test? He drives like a maniac.
Oh, wait a minute, Strabo Plinth probably just paid off the DMV to give Coryo his license.
Not wanting to talk to your bestfriend anymore, you leaned forward and turned on the car’s radio. You fiddled with the tuner until you landed on a station you liked.
The music filled the atmosphere for maybe a minute or so before Coriolanus turned it off. Looking between you and the road, he said, “Look, Y/N, I know how it is to be manipulated and used by someone you love. To give them everything only for it not to be enough; for them to turn on you and betray you.” He took one of his hands off the wheel, only to grab yours and say, “Darling, you're my bestfriend and the only person who's truly ever been by my side genuinely; not because you want to use me for something. You mean a lot to me and I just want to help you because I know how stupid and foolish you feel right now after getting your heart broken by Livinius.”
You just nodded and squeaked out, “Okay.” You really didn't feel like talking about this stuff right now.
And when did Coriolanus become somebody that talked about feelings? For as long as you've known him he always ran away from feelings.
What you didn't know is that Coryo's been harboring a decade-long crush on you. A crush he never acted on because he was afraid of ruining your friendship. Afraid that you'd push him away for being too obsessive (he knows how he can be with his things). So, he just pushed his feelings for you onto the prettiest face he saw (Lucy Gray once he became her mentor). And when he came back to the Capitol, he threw himself into his studies and interning with Dr. Gaul that he only saw you occasionally.
Now he wishes he would've just acted on his feelings for you, then your child would be his. But, he was going to fix everything and make it all better. Starting by getting rid of Livinius Cardew.
“Just let me handle everything for you, my little dove.” Coryo said while pulling into the parking lot of your hotel.
A run down hotel right next to the rail station. The flashing sign reading ‘Vacancy’ looked about to burn out. The tall blue sign next to the hotel reading Motel 6 seemed to mock you as Coryo asked, “What room in this pre-Panem horror's yours?”
“205.” You simply said as he pulled into an empty parking spot.
He cut the cars engine and pocketed his keys, only to hold his hand out. “Key.” Was the simple word he said.
You grabbed your bag from the floor and fished your room keys out. When you dropped them into his palm, he cringed.
They were brass keys, not a key card like the nicer hotels had. Coriolanus didn't say a word, but the disgusted look on his face was enough to know that he didn't approve of your choice of room. Opening his door, he said, “I won't be long, wait here.”.
You just nodded, watching as he got out of the car and went to get your things.
How did you end up here, you don't know. You went to see Coryo earlier to tell him about that baby, you never meant for him to take you in. To drag you to your hotel to get your things. It feels like everything escalated so quickly and you don't know how to feel about it.
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After collecting your things, Coryo brought you back to his penthouse and helped you get settled in the guest room.
At first staying with the platinum blonde man was hard, since you felt guilty about him taking care of you, but eventually after a few weeks you got over it.
Truthfully, it was nice spending time with your best friend (that you haven't seen in a while) and his Grandma'am, who you adored. You wish that Tigris, Coryo's cousin, was around more. But since Coryo helped her get a shop and become a stylist for the games, she moved out and into a luxurious condo that was located above her boutique.
But, unknown to you, in the last few weeks you've been living in the Snow penthouse, Coriolanus has been viewing you as more than his best friend. He, for some reason, has started viewing you as his girl. And that baby you're carrying, well…he's starting to view it as his child.
Especially when you came home from an appointment with the first printed scan of the baby. You waited until Grandma'am was tucked in bed before asking Coriolanus if he wanted to see the scan. You were scared he'd say no, but you asked because you wanted to share it with somebody.
You wanted somebody to be your partner during this time, this pregnancy, even if that someone was your best friend.
Was Coriolanus Snow.
Turns out that you had nothing to be scared of since Coryo flashed you a genuine smile and told you that he'd be honored to see the printouts of your first ultrasound scan.
You had a couple of copies, so you gave him one. And when you gave it to him, standing nervously in his room, next to him as he sat at his desk, he smiled and ran his thumb over the tiny bean shaped baby (well fetus) in the scan. “How far along are you, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, never taking his eyes off of the piece of paper in his large hand.
Going over to the edge of his bed and sitting down, you explained, “I’m a few days away from being 9 weeks. Dr. Wellock says I'm due during the summer, in mid-June.”
The platinum blonde ran a hand thru his hair while grumbling, “Of course, baby's due when I'll be at my busiest preparing for the games.”
“I'm sure I’ll be on my feet by then, Coryo. Don't worry about it, the baby's not coming for another 7 months.”
But Coryo had to worry about it. He didn't want to be so busy with helping Dr.Gaul prepare for the games come mid-June that he misses out on the birth of his first born. And in his mind you were carrying his first born. Just staring at that baby, no bigger then a bean, on the print out he was holding made something paternal (and delusional) snap in his head like a rubber band. Now, after seeing that scan printout, he was convinced that your baby was his.
Coriolanus has never fucked you (ever), but he's convinced himself that the baby's his. That you're his perfect, innocent, little dove. His darling rose of a best friend. His baby girl. So that the baby you carry has to be his too.
The little tiny baby had a strong heartbeat and stats according to the print out, so he knew it was his.
His, his, his.
“You and the baby are staying here with me, Y/N. And that's final.”
“Okay.”, You agreed, only because you knew that you'd need help with a newborn. Who were you to turn away your best friend's help. Coriolanus cares deeply for you; wanted to make sure that you and the baby had the things you deserved. You couldn't fault him for that.
If only it was that simple, that innocent.
But it wasn't.
No.
Somewhere in the platinum blonde's head wires got crossed and he blew a fuse. He thinks the baby's his, and since he thinks that he'll never let you or the baby leave his penthouse.
Ever.
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Nearly 3 months into living with Coryo, he came home one evening hunched over; coughing. The handkerchief he was coughing into was stained with blood. He staggered to his room, ignoring the startled cries and pleas from you and Grandma'am.
Turning to the worried old woman, dressed in her jewels and bright tunic, you assured her, “I’ll go check on Coryo.”
“Oh, should I call that maid, the Plinth woman, to put on a pot of tea for our Coriolanus?” Grandma'am asked as you rose from your seat.
When will Grandma’am realize that Ma Plinth (who lives on the 11th floor) isn't the maid? Ma Plinth just happens to be the mother of your late friend, Sejanus, and is just a warm, kind person who cleans the penthouse a few times a week and spends time with Grandma'am (and watches her when Coryo has to go somewhere for a long period of time or when you have appointments). Is Grandma’am’s memory, her senses fading that quickly? You know she can be a bit…much, sometimes- but still, is her memory getting worse?
“No.” You shook your head. Lightly patting her hand, you said, “I'll put some on if he wants it.”
Grandma'am just nodded, watching you as you left the main room and went down the hall towards Coriolanus’ room.
You knocked once on his bedroom door before opening it and peeking your head inside. “Coryo, are you okay?” You asked, seeing that he was sprawled out on his side, nearly falling over the edge of the bed, while bloodily hacking into his handkerchief.
Looking up at you, icy blue eyes full of pain, he croaked, “I’ll be fine, Y/N.”
You didn't know if you believed him or not. He didn't look like he'd be fine. Sighing, you entered the room and went over to him. “What’s wrong, Coriolanus?” You asked, getting into the bed with him and pushing a stray sweaty curl that got loose from its slick back style, away from his face.
“Nothing, just suppose it's something I drank.
“Something you drank?”
“I had tea with Livinius, after my work with Dr. Gaul today, to speak with him about you and the baby. The tea must've been bad because he dropped dead at the tea room and I'm sick.”
“Coriolanus, what did you do?” You asked, knowing deep down that bad tea doesn't kill people and make them jack up blood. That your best friend had a hand in whatever happened.
“I didn't do anything, darling.” Denied the platinum blonde, clutching his handkerchief as he welt blood tickling the back of his throat.
“Don't lie to me, Coryo. Please, as my best friend you owe me the truth.”
Coryo let out a string of loud, bloody coughs; staining his handkerchief and soaking it crimson. Lifting his head up off his pillow and looking at you from over his shoulder he told you, “I killed him for us and the baby.”
“What? Why?” You gasped, eyes wide, searching for answers.
“Livinius offered to give me money for you to get rid of our mistake, before you got too far along. I wasn't going to let him get away with that, so I poisoned him.” Coriolanus told you, body wracked with uncontrollable coughs. Coughs that made him spit up thick spools of blood.
“Coryo, are you insane? Just because he wanted me to get an abortion doesn't mean you had to poison him.”
“He was dangerous to us, little dove. He heard you moved in with me and invited me out for tea to discuss your condition and I wasn't going to let him threaten our baby and get away with it.”
You blinked as you took in his words. Our baby. Our baby as in his and your baby. Not your baby, but ours. He considered your baby his despite the fact that you've never fucked him, ever, in your entire life.
What the hell's wrong with him? Has he lost it? Was he delusional?
What the hell?
“Just hold me, baby. Please, just hold me.” Coryo asked between bloody coughs that had him gagging in pain.
You were beyond shocked. Your best friend had murdered your ex with poison and had inadvertently poisoned himself to the point that he's currently knocking on heaven’s door right now. And all because he had some delusion that your baby, your baby that was fathered by the man that he just murdered, was his.
How do you deal with this? Is there any way to deal with this?
Sighing, you decided to give into Coryo's request. He killed your ex, Vinny, to keep the baby safe. A baby he’s convinced is his. But, he did it with good intentions.
They say hell is paved with good intentions.
So…
You held him as his body shook and he coughed up a concerning amount of blood. He was always there for you, the least you could do was be here for Coriolanus. His baby blues had so much pain swimming in them. You couldn't imagine how bad he felt right now as his body was fighting itself.
“You're not going to die, are you, Coryo?” You asked, afraid that you'd lose him because of a rash decision he made.
“No.” Coryo weakly shook his head. Slowly turning around, so that he could comfortably rest his head on your chest, he told you, “I'm partially immune to this poison; I'll just be sick for a few days. He cleared his throat, fighting off a cough, and placed his hand on your belly. “You're slowly starting to get a tiny bump.” His baritone was full of pride as he told you, “I think we should stop hiding from the stigma of being unwed parents and just tell Grandma'am that she's going to be a Great-Grandma’am.”
“She's going to insist that we get married, Coryo.” You pointed out, hoping that he'd drop the notion of telling Grandma’am. You're certain that he's not ready to settle down yet.
If he was, wouldn't he have somebody by now?
Little did you know that he did have somebody.
He has you.
And that's why, in between coughing up blood, he told you, “I can convince Grandma’am that we'll have to wait until the baby’s born to have the wedding, so that you’ll be able to fit into your dress and drink celebratory champagne at the reception.”
And those words cemented that fact that your best friend was delusional. He didn't just want to raise your baby as his own, but wanted to marry you too.
Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he told you, “Since we're telling Grandma'am about the baby as soon as I'm feeling well enough to get out of bed, we can end our charade of chastity. You can finally share my bed, my darling.”
Coryo smirked, thinking that his words were charming, before hacking and soaking his already stained handkerchief with more crimson liquid.
With the metallic smell of blood and the sweet smell of roses mingling in the room, you found yourself giving into Coriolanus' delusions. You agreed to tell Grandma'am about the baby and to move your things into his bedroom.
Because what choice did you have? Coriolanus killed to keep you and the baby safe. It was clear to you that he'd do anything for you and your child.
At least he'd be a devoted husband and father, even if he’s a bit delusional.
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487 notes · View notes
springmagpies · 5 months
Text
Yes I think that Katniss reminded Snow of Lucy Gray, but more than that I think Katniss represented to him exactly what he feared most about Lucy Gray: the power of love, hope, and resiliency. Katniss isn’t the ghost of Lucy Gray, she is the descendant raised on the mockingjay song. She is the child of the woods of District 12, the daughter of a miner with a voice like honey, the daughter of a healer. If Snow is a jabberjay then Lucy Gray is a mockingbird. One a product of the Capitol, the other born of the wood, whose legacies shape the rebellion to come, whose actions however indirectly or accidentally have a hand in shaping part of who Katniss is and what she is forced to face. Something the Capitol can’t control. A mockingjay.
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dumbsoftheart · 4 months
Text
threads of fate
pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x preachers daughter!reader
tags: 18+, mdni. dub-con, heavy and dark religious themes, dark themes, fingering, kissing, swearing, sliiight voyerism, corruption and innocence kink,
summary: after a chase in the woods, coriolanus becomes devoted to making you his one and only follower.
notes: i don't know what came over me.. enjoy!
word count: 7.2k
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౨ׅৎ
the blood of the lamb, washed over the sins of those strayed away from god, atones those begging to be spared from destruction. the saccharine ichor was the ultimate gateway towards deliverance- and thus sought out by sinners and saints alike to be granted eternal redemption for the transgressions that permeated the sweats and tears of the individuals whose secrets would have them damned to the dreadful inferno beneath their feet. the sweet lamb; symbol of innocence and purity, and the wolf who hunted it, the face of deception and treachery, stood now in the heart of the woodlands, the sweet kill hidden shamefully in the asylum of the crowded aspen as it’s predator tauntingly whistled in pursuit of it’s coveted prize. 
tears fell in a waterfall down into the vessels of your collarbones, trailing down and staining the frail white fabric of your dress, unveiling the soft tanned skin of your chest in its wake. with one hand clasped tightly against your mouth, you tried to conceal your wails of fear and the threatening thumping of your heart so as not to draw attention to the towering figure looming dangerously close to you, chuckling lowly as he carefully made his way through the maze of trees and forestry. your other hand was clutched desperately on the golden cross that hung around your neck, thumb haphazardly caressing the delicate engravings and etchings of the cool metal. 
hail mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, jesus. holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death.
shame washed over you as you thought of your mother and father- your dear father, and what they would make of your inevitable disappearance. you were taught the way of the lord since you emerged from your mothers womb; it followed you everywhere you went. by all means, you had lived your life for god himself. what would he think of you now? the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of god. and yet there you were, a thief, running from, no doubt, god’s punishment for your sins. 
despite your fathers widespread fame throughout the district, your family struggled to bring food and water to the table regularly. seeing the despair that clouded your mothers eyes as she failed to provide a dinner some nights for her family had driven you towards madness. you grew desperate- desperate to alleviate the stress that haunted her and satiate the hunger that settled in your stomach for the fifth day in a row. you rationalised, that with your undying devotion, god would find it in him to forgive you. with all the work your father put into his sermons and dedication to delivering god's word to the poverty stricken peoples of district 12, the divine being would be forgiving in his punishment in recognition of the loyalty you harboured. 
now, you knew you were wrong. 
you berate yourself for even entertaining the stupid idea of pilfering from the small bakery near the marketplace. in truth, it wasn’t even stealing. you had waited until dark threatened the sky, then snuck behind the establishment to snatch a few meagre, stale loaves that had been carelessly discarded in a small bin beside the refuse receptacles. combined with the butter you had been gifted earlier in the week, these provisions would barely suffice to stifle the persistent pangs in your stomach for a few days, at most. you naively assumed you were in solitude and hastily fled when you’d filled up your small leather bag with as many old rolls and loaves as possible. 
oh, how wrong could you have been? you never caught sight of the face of the man who now charged after you- only a faint glance at a familiar blue that weaved its way through the trees- but the adrenaline rushing through your veins urged you to run, and to never stop. and now, here you were, caught in the act, pathetically weeping as you waited for the repercussions of your actions to find you. 
you moved to press your back harder against the thin trunk of the tree, a twig snapping under the weight of your foot, and your eyes widened with fear as the sound reverberated against the still of the forest, the soft footsteps that trailed behind you coming to an abrupt stop. then, a voice. 
“my dear, it would make it so much easier for us if you just came out. i promise you, i don’t bite.” it purred. the way he spoke was low and unrecognisable, laced with an amusement that had you shiver with the depravity of it. your crying ceased at an attempt to remain as hidden as possible, nary a whimper escaping from behind the painful grip of your hand across your mouth. 
“i know you know what you did was wrong. i mean, stealing from a bakery? i wonder what your father would think of you now, his daughter a thief.”
you fought back tears at the mention of your father, shame once again weighing at your conscience, “come out, and i promise your punishment won't be as harsh as it should be.”
the proposition had you thinking for a bit, the truth behind the words appealing to you for a sliver of a moment. before you could consider your next step; find an out or comply to the omnipresent man’s offering, a gunshot pierces your ears, and you let out a shriek so loud you swore all of panem could hear you.
you begin to wail again then, uncontrollably, screaming and begging for respite as your body gave in under the weight of itself; your knees buckling and falling harshly against the ground. you shake with the ferocity of a small rodent before you’re pulled up by your shoulders and engulfed into a familiar, warm hug. your eyes wide with panic, you thrash your head back in forth in an attempt to find the man who was tormenting you, only to see that he was now gone, and in his place, a small search party lead by a peacekeeper cheered in glory at the sight of you. relief washed over you as you looked up to find your father, falling into the safety of his arms as he escorted you out of the forest, giving a curt thank you to the peacekeeper and another man you recognized to be one of your fathers students, before dragging you to the comfort of your home. 
౨ׅৎ
when your father found out the reason behind your being in the woods, you’d landed yourself a life of extra chores and punished to more frequent church visits until your father decided you had repent enough. your father, reassuring you of god's forgiveness as his child, warned that your actions wouldn't fade from memory. he emphasised the necessity of restoring your relationship with the lord and savior. you were under his constant watch, now. each morning, before dropping you off at school, he compelled you to pray fervently for protection over your family and yourself, urging you to plead for deliverance from the consequences of your actions.
with your increased presence in church taking up most of the time you had to yourself, you found yourself taking note of the other frequent church goers. your father, of course, and his dedicated student, were a constant in your peripheral vision. the old couple who lived only a few minutes away from you, mrs. harmon and her froofy, dirty church outfits, her boisterous children, and her grumbling husband. you noticed small things; like how the wife of the newly-wed couple in town had stopped wearing her wedding ring, and how her husband seemed to never give her a second look. how the twin boys in the grade below you suddenly surpassed you in height, and their younger sister now seemed to lack a certain innocence that was pertinent in her character before. you made a small promise to yourself to pray for her. 
there was one person, however, who you were not familiar with, yet you could feel it in the deep ends of your bones that you knew exactly who he was. he had begun to appear only once a week, his shiny buzzcut and blue peacekeeper uniform sticking out sorely from the rest of the crowd. then, twice a week- then three- and then suddenly you found you could not escape from him. everywhere you turned, he was there. when you walked home from school, you would catch him patrolling somewhere nearby, or laughing and chatting with his peacekeeper friends. when you opened the church doors for mass, he would be first to walk in, handing you a small smile before making his way to sit in the pew farthest away from you. he was there, everywhere you looked, and it unsettled you greatly. there was a lack of sincerity in his eyes when he smiled, and for a moment you thought that it had seemed like hunger, but you pushed the idea away before your brain could process it. one night, when closing the church doors and heading to your home, the small sound of rapid footsteps triggered your fight or flight response, the latter winning. when the man rested his hand on your shoulder politely, handing you a handkerchief you had dropped, you felt a strange sense of deja vu. the speed at which it sounded he had ran towards you didn’t match how he stood before you now; breathing even, chest pushed out pridefully, his dark sapphire eyes never leaving yours. but you were so sure that the man had been sprinting, just like the man who had sprinted after you a few weeks ago had. you gave him a small thank you before speed-walking your way to the front door, panting heavily as you locked it shut behind you and your hand made its way back to the pendant on your neck, grasping it so tightly it hurt, the stipe digging into the soft flesh of your palms as a way of grounding yourself back to your senses. 
that night, when you got on your knees to pray, you couldn’t shake the look on the mans face from your thoughts. his features themselves were even, lacking any sense of emotion, but his eyes troubled you the most. the way they bore into yours made you feel as if you would burst into flames right then. it made you feel as if there was something he wanted from you, but your poor innocent soul couldn’t figure out what. when you nestled yourself into your bed that same night, you vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. 
you hadn't realised how hard that would be. 
he approached you the next morning. it was saturday, and the usual gloomy weather of district 12 had been forced away and replaced with the harsh, bright sunlight. it shone spectacularly through the stained-glass windows, gracing the dark wood of each side aisle with vibrant reds and yellows and blues  and brightening the deep red carpet that lay evenly along the nave. you stood behind the pulpit, readying your fathers sermons and homilies for that week's sabbath. he had barged in unannounced, making his way towards you slowly as you pretended to ignore the tall figure making its way down the red path. 
“good morning, miss,” he spoke lowly towards you, peering upwards slightly as the pulpit was slightly taller than the rest of the church, and you pretended to read through the cards and flip through your bible as if it were you preparing to speak in a mere 15 minutes. he cleared his throat once, and you waved your hand nonchalantly towards the pews, “the preacher will be ready shortly. please, have a seat.” 
from behind your fathers flashcards, you could see a small tick of his jaw and he pressed his lips together tightly, nodding slowly before making his way to his usual seat, feigning interest in the architecture of the building. 
“its quite beautiful, no?”
you hummed. 
“i wonder how the district could afford to pay for it.”
the comment caught you off guard, causing you too look up at him with scrunched brows, your lips parted in confusion. surely, he knew the capitol had paid for it- and even then, what did it matter? a sanctuary for god deserved only the best of resources, you thought. the beauty of the church was a reflection of the beauty of your religion, the intricacies and meticulous carpentry of the building spoke to one of the three transcendentals that point to god. of course, it would be beautiful. 
before you could think of a response to the bizarre musing, your father burst in, pressing a light kiss to your cheek and thanking you kindly for preparing for him. the man stood up to make his way to greet the preacher, and you were out of sight as fast as lightning. 
that cycle continued for a while. he would sit in the pews, admiring the architecture (when really, he was admiring you), then stand to greet your father enthusiastically, frowning ever so slightly when you disappeared the moment he made any closer to your father. eventually, you had become quite good at avoiding him. you saw him less in the markets, saw less of him in church, and rarely caught sight of him anywhere else. that was, until you found him at your doorstep one hot summer day. 
you and your mother swore it was the hottest day to see district 12, and you sat on the porch in a small, lace trimmed top and cut-off jean shorts. your hair was carelessly tossed into an updo to relieve your neck of some heat, and you sat in your fathers old chair as you sipped on some juice your family had been given earlier that day. 
you weren’t expecting any visitors that day, so it was safe to say you nearly choked when the man appeared from behind the path of thrush that hid your small home from sight of the church, dressed only in the blue dress pants of his peacekeeper uniform and a thin white shirt, silver dog tag swinging like a pendulum across his chest as he made his way towards you. your father had emerged delighted, mr. snow!, he cheered, patting the man- snow, what a fitting name- on his back and urging him inside. you scrambled to the backdoor and into the kitchen where your mother rest, the door slamming behind you loudly as you entered, causing her to jump. 
“dear?”
“that man daddy’s talking to- who is he?”
she gave you a halfhearted shrug, “i wouldnt know, pumpkin, it’s probably business with your father. he goes to the church, no?” 
you nodded, pacing back and forth, ignoring the crazed look your mother threw at you as you processed the information. 
“do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil,” she reminded you, and your jaw dropped at the silent accusation she threw at you. 
“absolutely not, mother!” you stormed back out the door, drowning your mother’s laughter out with frustrated mumbles of has she lost her mind? and what a woman! how she could ever think something about snow was tempting you was beyond your understanding. however, when you made it back to your chair and your watered down glass of juice, the sight of a shirtless ‘mr. snow’ and your, otherwise fully dressed, father in the garden, dripping sweat shamelessly into your mothers vegetable patch, a snap thought breached your mind that perhaps there was something tempting about the mysterious man. 
that sent you into a frenzy. your knee bounced anxiously as you silently begged god to forgive you for the thought, and that it was simply intrusive, and not reflective of the morals and high grounds you held closely to your heart. nervously, you grabbed the book you had abandoned weeks ago and shoved your nose into the pages as if to distract yourself from your own brain and its wicked ministrations.  
you weren't sure of how much time had passed, yet it felt like the man's stay was suspiciously short as he and your father made their way inside. you gave him a curt nod, and your father gave you a small lecture about manners, insisting that the two of you become accustomed to one another. and there you were, legs drawn up to your chest as if to protect yourself from the sinful looking man before you. 
“my name is coriolanus snow,” he said. coriolanus. it was unlike any name you’d heard before. you returned the gesture softly, hoping that he would disappear behind your father into the house and you could breathe again, but he stayed and stared at you with that look, “your father tells me we’re the same age. he’s a nice man.”
you bit your lip at that. the same age? there was something about coriolanus that seemed older. it also begged the question: what was someone his age doing as a peacekeeper? you opened your mouth to pry at him, but he cut you off, stepping closer. 
“tell me, dear, what sins weigh in your heart?” 
you drew yourself back further into the safety of your chair, face laced with disgust as you tried as hard as possible to distance yourself from the imposing man now caging you into your confinement. his breath was heavy on your nose, and your heart pounded harshly- from what, you weren’t sure. fear? a sense of danger? temptation? his lips were so close to yours now, you could smell the faint scent of cologne that mingled with the saltiness of his sweat, and you tried your best to keep your breathing as even as possible, feigning indifference to his proximity to you poorly. 
“i dont know what you mean, mr. snow.”
he smiled at that, laughing lowly. he didn’t expect you to know what he meant, of course, but he had an inkling that if he played his cards just right, he’d have you right where he wanted. he leaned closer now, lips dodging yours, lightly brushing your nose as his head turned to whisper in your ear. 
“do you think of me at night? our little chase?”
“wh-what?”
“you’re smart, miss. think about it.”
he disappeared into the house, bidding goodbye to your mother and father and whisking himself away. your mouth remained parted, eyes wide with confusion as you tried to process what his words could have meant. 
surely, he couldn’t mean.. 
no. absolutely not, you decided. coriolanus may have unsettled you ungreatly, but he was a peacekeeper- and your father had always told you that they served to protect you, that they would never harm you purposely. you stood shakily and made your way quietly into the old house, reeking of old wood and boiled vegetables. you sat on the couch near your brother, holding his head to your chest as you stroked his hair comfortingly, still trying to process. from the kitchen, your father called, “he’s a nice boy, no? perhaps he could be of some influence to you, sweetheart.” 
you agreed meekly, despite disagreeing with your father completely. you werent entirely sure what he saw in the man at all, yet you were adamant that he was, in fact, not a good influence, but a parasite. you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. he made you feel unsafe- unsure of yourself, and for some reason, your faith. you decided he was no good; but yet you couldnt make any understanding of the bittersweet ache between your thighs. 
when coriolanus walked home that evening, he couldn’t fight his smile. he saw you, in all his glory, struggling pathetically under his gaze, squirming and fidgeting uncontrollably as he trapped you within the cage of his arms. 
the sacrificial lamb has been caught, he thought. 
what a stupid, stupid lamb. 
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you rushed into church near 5 am the next day, sleep deprived from the constant running of your mind and the damned words of coriolanus snow. 
“our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” you repeated to yourself, kneeled below the large wooden crucifixion of jesus, hands clasped tightly together, your head resting painfully against the white of your knuckles. 
what you were praying for, you didn’t know. you couldn't go to the confessional- heavens forbid, no. confessing secrets of your dreams of coriolanus’s hands, the outline of his jaw, the way he whispered his sinister words so sweetly into your ear- to your father? you would rather be hanged for the whole district to see. there was nothing sinful about your dreams, exactly, but it felt sinful, dirty, downright hellish. you thought of his lips, the soft and pink flesh of them, the stormy blue of his eyes- and, oh god, you couldn't stop replaying his words in your head. 
‘do you think of me at night?’ he had asked you so earnestly. as if he needed you to tell him yes, you did think of him, every night. it wasn't a lie, of course, only the way you had begun thinking about him had changed. but that wasn't your doing at all, was it? no, he was to blame, for speaking to you like that, for dangling his dog tag so close that it brushed your cross indecently, for showing up to your house and stripping himself half naked, sweating impurely over the soil you and your mother sowed and reaped with love, with innocence, purity. it was entirely his fault, from the way he seemed to be forcing himself into your life. the church door creaked open, and you continued to pray, “give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”
your heart raced as footsteps neared closer, as if you knew exactly who they belonged to. 
“what troubles you, little lamb?” his voice took you with fear, the way it rumbled in his chest and reverberated on the walls confining the two of you, alone. you raised your head, refusing to look back at him, “i do believe that's none of your concern, mr. snow.”
you heard him chuckle lowly, repeating the words mr. snow to himself under his breath. it made you shiver, and you recited the bible verses your father drilled into your head from as young as you could remember: vindicate me, o god, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation; rescue me from deceitful and wicked men.
you could feel him now, knee pressed lightly against your back. you stood up and turned to face him, eyes wild and daring as they searched the azure maze of his own. his hand reached to stroke your hair, and you flinched. 
“why is it that you fear me so much, do you think?”
“i’m not afraid of you.”
he tsked, “‘fear’ is different than ‘being afraid’, darling. to be afraid is a fleeting moment. your brain's immediate response towards danger,” he moved to touch your hair again, now more forcefully, tucking the loose strands along your hairline behind your ear. 
keep back your servant also from willful sins.
he continued, “i asked, why do you fear me?”
you tried to search deeper into his eyes, trying to grasp any understanding at what he was trying to communicate to you. your mind ran amok, and it was no help that coriolanus's hand now snuck its way into your fingers, fidgeting with the soft digits mindlessly. 
“i don't.. i don't know-” he cut you off by stepping closer before you finished. you had wanted to tell him that you didn't know why he thought you feared him, that you didnt understand the question, and that you needed to get home soon, so to please excuse you. 
“i think you fear what i impose between you and your precious god.”
you let out an involuntary laugh, giggling childlishly at the accusation. you stopped, when his eyes darkened. 
“i’m sorry, mr. snow, but i really don’t know what you mean!” you were struggling to contain your girlish giggles. what he imposes between me and god? it was such a bizarre statement, so plainly laid out for you, that you couldn’t even comprehend it entirely. your laughing ceased, for good now, when his hand circled tightly around your wrist. 
let them not have dominion over me.
then i will be upright.
“i’m not stupid, love. i saw you, yesterday, practically drooling over me. i wonder what your father would have to say if he saw the sinful way you ogled at me,” he paused, and you swallowed painfully, “and dont tell me you’ve forgotten all about our little chase, hm? wasnt it exhilarating?” now, panic engulfed you. you tried to back away from him as the pieces etched themselves together in your brain, but his hold on your wrist was only getting tighter. 
“that was you?” your voice was impossibly small, weak from the alarm that blared in your head. your eyes darted back and forth desperately, searching for an out, hoping and praying that someone might burst in and see the scene before you, tear hades away from his persephone and save her from her impending doom. 
i will be blameless and innocent of great transgression.
he dipped his head to your neck, lips deliciously grazing over the supple skin of your collar bone, pressing kisses so light you could barely feel them as you tried to wriggle from his grasp. 
“of course it was me, darling,” the way you felt him smile against your skin was chilling, and you fought back tears as he moved impossibly closer to you, “isn’t that adrenaline rush just addicting? tell me, dove, what do you think about me when you lie in bed and replay our precious little moments together in that pretty head of yours?” 
your breathing quickened, and you winced as coriolanus gripped tighter at your wrist, his other hand painfully gripping the small of your waist, massaging the gentle muscle of it. you could feel his entire body pressed against yours, and a tear threatened to slip when you felt the hard pressing of his lower region on your stomach. you shook your head, refusing to give in to his line of questioning, but his grip on your waist tightened and you cried out in pain, “your hands!” you whined, relief slowly making its way to the sore area of your waist as he loosened his grip. he made to grasp your chin under his index, forcing you to keep eye contact with him and urged you silently to keep going. 
“your..” you let out a shaky sigh, “your h-ands, your voice, the words you speak to me. i don't understand why.” 
he cooed at you now, as if proud of you for speaking up. your eyes darted to his lips, and you saw something flash in his eyes, “anything else?”
let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight,
lord, my rock, and my redeemer. 
you tried to look down at your feet as if to run away from the question, but his hold on your chin was unrelenting. shamefully, you whispered, “your lips.” 
he let out a small ahhh, as if the admission shocked him. he knew, of course. of course he knew. you poor thing. sweet, little lamb, so innocent and pure. untouched by lust, blind to its deceptive allure. he knew from the moment he’d gone after you in those woods and failed to catch you, that he would do everything in his power to make sure you would never escape his grasp again. he knew when his frail attempts at getting closer to you failed, he had to resort to a harsher solution. he needed to infiltrate every space you breathed in, and break his was into your mind until he had you right where he needed you to be: malleable, so he could corrupt you just as easy. 
he knew your father protected you, the extent to which he went to protect you, as well. banning sex education in your school, ensuring your mind stays as pure as possible to the exploits of fickle men and their wants. you knew the basics, thanks to your mother and her worrisome self, but her teachings were meddled down into some confusing allegory that left your mind as clueless as before, so that you stayed intact, perfect and pristine in the lords eye as well as the rest of the district, in your white frilly dresses, light makeup, and perfectly crafted manners. 
he knew how easy it would be to get in your head. the human body is funny, like that, wherein it begs for things it doesn’t know of. he knew when he flexed his hands you caught sight of it, when he swallowed you intently watched the way his adams apple bobbed, he knew when he showed up to your home and stripped himself almost bare it would plague your mind with an unknowing want and desire, and soon enough, you’d have no choice but to give in to it, abandon your god and his lessons for coriolanus alone. 
he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, swiping his thumb across yours as if to mirror himself, and then ducked his head closer, “go on.”
you squeezed your eyes shut. everything felt so, so wrong, and you didn't know why, but you couldn't stop. when he continued to toy with your lip, slightly plunging the tip of his finger past them and into your mouth, you let out an involuntary, small moan, and your legs shook and quivered as the strange ache from yesterday returned. 
“wh-what?”
“kiss me.”
your eyes widened, and you shook your head. coriolanus thought it was adorable, how you struggled to piece together what was about to happen, how your brain tried desperately to fill in the blanks with information it didnt know. you heard coriolanus sigh disapprovingly at your protests and he shoved his thumb further into your mouth, causing you to choke. he removed it, then wiped the saliva that remained over your bottom lip before inserting the digit in his mouth, tasting you. 
“its okay, little one. you can kiss me. he wont mind,” you didnt realize your fingers lingered over the necklace nestled on your chest, and your gaze followed his finger as he gestured upwards. he wont mind. you racked your brain over the things coriolanus said to you from he entered the church.
“i think you fear what i impose between you and your precious god.”
now, you truly hoped someone would burst in, and you could scream and wail as you explained the horrors coriolanus was about to commit to you (even if those horrors were unclear). he was so close, and something still pressed hardly against your stomach, and suddenly you couldn't breathe, “he would mind. i promise to pray for you coriolanus, i don't know what troubles you, but the lord-” 
he cut you off by shoving his lips onto yours harshly, groaning at the contact. his hands made their way to rest on your clothed breasts, and you wriggled and struggled to try get away from him, but your efforts were fruitless. you were cornered, now. a lamb with nowhere to run or hide, forced to face its fate. he ravaged your lips, hands restless as they caressed all over your protesting body. the ache between your legs grew, and a small part of you realized that the last thing you wanted right now was for someone to walk in, and see the preacher's daughter being completely defaced by a peacekeeper. 
“your god cant give me what i need, angel. cant you see? you did this to me,” his hand grabbed yours as he pulled away to speak, trailing it down the hard muscle of his abdomen and palming the hardness that threatened to burst through the seam of his pants. your eyes were wide and doe-like, and coriolanus never needed to fuck you more. his lips met yours again, and his other hand fumbled to remove his pants, hissing when the air hit his straining cock, all while you tried your best to distance yourself from him as much as possible. your face was hot, and your hands remained in the air, unsure of where to rest them, as you slowly allowed coriolanus to slip his tongue into your mouth. 
“good girl,” he practically growled, and you let out a pathetic squeak when you felt your core tighten, pleasure washing over you at the small praise. coriolanus was turned on beyond conception, moaning disgracefully as he stroked himself through the fabric of his underwear. if you could see the spectacle the two of you were making, in the middle of church- no less, the thought alone had coriolanus close to the edge. you gasped when you saw him palm himself, and without thinking, your hand brushing his ever so slightly, lingering a second too long before his eyes snapped up at yours, pleading you to go ahead and touch him. 
when you finally pressed your hand to his clothed region, you swore the way coriolanus threw his head back with a small mewl and moan would land you an eternity in hell alone. 
“thats it, baby, jus’ like that.. keep going..” you gasped when his hand sneaked its way under your dress- your sunday best- your hand faltering a bit when his long middle finger lightly grazed your clothed cunt. the foreign feeling it elicited from you had you desperately searching coriolanus’s eyes for an answer, unable to speak as his fingers that toyed with the most intimate parts of you had you moaning softly and lowly, uncontrollably. you continued to palm him, and his hand slipped into the lacy cotton of your panties, cursing hotly under his breath when he feels you. 
“so wet for me. you dirty fucking girl, look at you: making a mess in church.” you didnt know what he meant, but shame burned through your skin. confusion grappled at you and you began to sob, not ignoring the way your tears seemed to make coriolanus throb beneath you, “please stop, coriolanus, this is immoral.”
“baby, if it feels good, then it cant be bad,” he stroked the tear stains on your cheek softly, cupping your face with false earnest as he pulled your head to lay on his chest, “does it feel good?”
coriolanus reveled in the way you looked up at him, like a devoted follower in the arms of their saviour. when you nodded slowly, he gently spun you around and shoved your face into the cool wood of the crucifixion behind you, his hand painfully pushing against your cheek enough so that you couldn't look anywhere but above you, into the sad eyes of jesus. 
your panties were ripped off with a shriek that was muffled by coriolanus’s hand around your mouth, and you sobbed as pain mixed with pleasure as he gave a few slaps to your dripping cunt, mumbling about how pretty it is. in a desperate attempt to wiggle out of your new position, you accidentally arched your back further, giving him more access. 
“let me show you how i can love you,” he whispered into your ear, before returning his fingers to the slick mess that coated your cunt, your body jolting when they occasionally brushed over your clit, the unfamiliar sensation already too overwhelming for you to handle. with a few more agonising strokes of his fingers, he prodded at your hole, teasing your entrance in a way that had your eyes roll to the back of your head. when he finally slipped them in, your hand pounded desperately against the cross you were pressed up on, pleads to stop falling pathetically into the hand of coriolanus and onto deaf ears. he was merciless with it, greedily pounding his fingers into you in a way that had your knees gravitating towards each other and animalistic grunts of pleasure vibrating through his hand. 
something in you burned, your body was pleading for more as an unfamiliar coil formed in the pit of your stomach. your hand continued to bang against the cross, tears falling as you forcibly peered into the eyes of your saviour while you got your cunt ravaged in the middle of his shrine. 
“oh god, oh god” you mumbled through his hand. you were unsure if it was shame, or the delicious way coryo pumped his fingers into you, but you grew lightheaded and dumb, eyes hazy as you grew closer to your release. 
“thats it, take it. you’re filthy, taking my fingers so well in the middle of church.” now, both hands scraped desperately against the cross, leaving marks in the wake of your fingernails digging into the hardwood. coriolanus tugged your head further up, forcing you to stare at him with tears streaming down your face and desperate pleas for him to stop going unheard. he smiled coyly when he felt your pussy clench around his fingers, and he withdrew them just before you reached your release, a loud, agonising whine of relief and desperation leaving your smushed lips. he was quick to replace his fingers with his cock, the slow intrusion of it making you let out a low, droned out groan as he stretched your virgin cunt past its limit.
he removed his hand from your mouth, and a string of prayers tumbled out of it, “o my god, i am heartily sorry for having offended thee,” and “and i detest all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend thee, my god, who art all good and deserving of all my love.” it earned you a slap to your ass, and you cried out loudly as coriolanus shoved your dress off of you, watching as it fell uselessly around your legs into a pool of white. he flipped you around, admiring your soft breasts and the way they spilled over in the hold of his fingers, and he traced the soft, plumpness of your belly as he chuckled lowly at your continuous prayer. with his cock still nestled into you, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 
“god loves you, but not as much as i do,” and then he thrust his cock into you with such force that you nearly tumbled to the floor. his hand rest on your lower back, forcing you to arch closer to him, your hips meeting his unwillingly at his fast pace. coriolanus’s cock grazed the inside of your gummy walls perfectly, and you found yourself slipping from reality as he continued to pound his dick into you, moaning when you contracted around him without rhythm, your inexperienced self almost overloaded with pleasure, unable to control your body. 
“you’re being such a good girl, taking my cock like this,” he weaved a hand through your hair, “‘n you’re gonna let me cum inside you, yeah? gonna make a woman out of you.” you couldnt focus on the words he was throwing at you, lost in pleasure as the tip of coryo’s dick hit that one spot over and over again. the way he spoke to you had you at a crossroads, and it didnt help that he was fucking you into oblivion, and now you understood what he had meant when he said he imposed between you and god, because you were becoming addicted to the push and pull of his cock inside of you. 
“thats right, take it. you look so pretty all dumb and fucked out on my cock,” you reached to grab his arm to steady yourself, your orgasm creeping in closely, “you gonna cum for me?” 
you didn't know what it meant, but you nodded anyways, completely lost in bliss, “coryo..” you moaned out, his brows raising slightly at the new nickname, a smirk settling on his face. moans and mewls lewdly left your mouth as he quickened his pace, his unused hand massaging at your tits, twisting and pinching softly at your nipples as you thrashed with pleasure under him. 
“gonna make you worship this fucking cock, baby” he was close himself now, his head falling and his voice itching up an octave, lewd moans clashing with yours as the rhythm and pace he set began to falter, and he fucked you as hard as he could as he chased your high and his own, “gonna make you devoted to me. you’re never gonna wanna be away from me again,” his face twisted with pleasure, and you circled your arms around his neck as you tried to ground yourself, the coil in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel and threatening to snap. a shadow passed, and your eyes widened with terror as you slapped coryo’s arm haphazardly, begs falling from your mouth to stop. he turned his head lazily to look at what you were whining about, but his thrusts didn't stop. 
“let them see what a dirty fucking girl you are.” 
your walls tightened and your eyes rolled so far back into your head you were scared they wouldn't come back up as your orgasm reached you. you covered your mouth, shrieking desperately as the shockwaves of pleasure rolled over you, the newfound feeling unrelenting as it took over every part of your body. coriolanus repeated words of encouragement and praise as he fucked you through your high, before bottoming out and releasing his load in you, christening your walls. you whined at the feeling, so full and drunk off of it that your concerns of the passerby faded. the both of you stood there, panting heavily, both groaning when coryo slid out of you. he slapped his tip on your puffy clit one, two, three times, before a loud knock rapped on the church door. 
you could feel coriolanus’s spill leaking out of you as you crouched on your knees, hidden, and you cried silently, the reality of what had just happened to you settling in. coriolanus snow had corrupted you, in the worst possible way, and now you could only feel yourself crave more of him. as he spoke to the intruder, egging them to run along, a thumb caressed your head gently, as if to tell you he had everything under control. the small southern drawl he’d begun to pick up was more prominent. when the intruder finally left, you were forced to your feet, and coriolanus grabbed your ruined panties, resting on his knees below you to shove them into your used cunt, before making his way back to his feet, towering over you. he spoke to you like he would if he were on duty:
“you go on home now, miss. and tell your father i say hello.” 
and you did. 
౨ׅৎ
@dumbsoftheart, 2023
394 notes · View notes
hrpayo01 · 4 months
Text
Katniss' love for Peeta has taught her to understand and forgive her mother for emotionally abandoning them when her father died.
Katniss has always resented her mother for disappearing, leaving them to starve in her grief. And she has all the right to think, and feel that. She was eleven and selling baby clothes in the rain, about die of starvation. She was signing up for tessarae the minute she was qualified. She was hunting in the woods as a child. She was pushed into immense responsibility because her mother no longer had the will to live--despite her and Prim still being alive. She believed that relationship was severed and she saw her mom as weak, incompetent, and unloving.
But she became her mother when she was separated from Peeta. She, point blank, said she lost the will to live. Even if Prim was still there, and her mother, and Gale, and the country was relying on her to get them through a revolution.
She talked about how she never understood why people stay and watch their loved ones die on the table instead of going away...she did that with Peeta at the end of the first games.
She said that if she know for sure that Peeta was dead, she would just disappear in the woods and never look back. She was also willing to abandon them.
It's slowly sinking in but it was such and important detail how, after she saw Peeta return to district 12 in the last chapter, one of the first things she did was call her mother. Process her grief with someone else, made sure she wasn't alone. Because that's probably when it all clicked for her: Peeta came back, her father could not. She suffered like her mother, but not cometely like her mother.
She said the reason why she hasn't taken her own life back at 12 was because she was waiting for something. Peeta, like he always has, was giving her hope. Her mother did not have that. Nor did she have anyone to share that grief with. No family, no friends, and her children were too young.
When Peeta came back, Katniss realized that she just went through what her mom went through but with a better ending. She understood and felt what it was like to paralyzed with grief despite people relying on you... When Peeta came back, Katniss was ready to heal. Katniss was ready to forgive, not just her mother, but also herself.
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thegreatmelodrama · 5 months
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In The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes film, a line is added which reveals that Crassus Snow, Coriolanus’s father, was killed by rebels in the woods of District 12. This adds a whole new layer of depth to Snow chasing Lucy Gray through the woods in the film and the book’s climax. Specifically it makes Snow’s fear and delusions that much more complex. Not only is he deluding himself into thinking that Lucy Gray has it out for him, but he also has this added fear of not wanting to have the same fate as his father: killed by a rebel in the woods of District 12, a place that is “beneath” him in every sense of the word.
And this is a recurrent theme in both the film and the book: this struggle between becoming like his mother or his father—between that which represents good and that which represents bad.
He convinces himself that Lucy Gray must be trying to kill him and that she is a loose end that has to be taken care of. He feels completely out of control, something which he absolutely despises. This fear and powerlessness, sends him spiraling even further. He will do everything to ensure that he ends up on top and will not suffer the same fate as his father. Yet in doing the former, he essentially ensures the latter. There was some truth in the statement that Snow killed the old version of himself, however it wasn’t until his chasing of Lucy Gray through the woods that this became cemented. Coryo died that day in the woods and re-emerged Coriolanus: the spitting image of his father.
(However, it’s important to note that Snow wasn’t destined to become like his father. He had every opportunity to do and choose otherwise, and yet he didn’t)
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emmcarstairs · 5 months
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Only after I read and later watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes did it hit me just how much The Hunger Games as a literary work is influenced by the Romantic movement of the 19th century. Its exploration of a revolution sparked by the common men is at the heart of THG. But while the trilogy focuses on its political ideas, TBOSAS discusses the themes of individuality, art's longevity, and Nature as a teacher. Lucy Gray, the songbird, is the teacher who, using her creative genius, attempts to shake the foundations of Snow's cold rationalism rooted in the Capitol's Classicism (think of all the Latin names!) Lucy Gray and Snow are really Emotion and Reason caught in an eternal conflict. And despite being briefly swayed in the woods of District 12, Snow turns his back on Nature/Lucy Gray's lessons. He could never thrive there. While Lucy Gray's spirituality and art transcend the cage of her own narrative.
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