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Coriolanus Snow Fanfiction - Blog Posts
I ♡ Christmas
12 days of Christmas - Day Four
“Have a good evening, President Snow.”
You’re already nestled in the warm, dimly lit confines of the town car as the driver shuts the door behind Coriolanus, who slides across the sleek leather upholstery to put his arm around you and draw you close. You giggle as you lay your head against your husband’s chest. Breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne (which you picked out), you press your cheek against the crimson velvet of his lapel and smile up at him.
“You know,” you say, “this is the first time we’ve been alone together all day.”
Coryo’s eyebrows twitch together. “Is it? That can’t be true.”
“It is,” you confirm. “You were at work all day before the party, and so we came in separate cars. And the party itself was so crowded that I only had to turn my head for a moment to lose track of you.”
Gently cupping your chin, Coryo comments, “I think you’re pouting, my love.”
“Well—” You try to let your mouth soften, but now that you’ve gotten started, it’s rather difficult to stop. “It’s just that — I know the holidays are busy, but we’ve hardly spent any time together lately. It feels like we only just had the wedding, and then all of these galas and soirees started.”
To be fair to you, it likely feels as though you only just had the wedding because you did just have the wedding. You were married on November 17th, less than a month ago. Between the engagement party, the wedding and reception, and various fetes to congratulate you on the nuptials, you’ve spent most of the autumn in a panoply of gowns.
Pausing to take a breath, you peek up at him from under your eyelashes, but he doesn’t seem put off by your outburst, so you keep going. “And I know you’re an important man, and everyone wants you at their party — and once you’re there, they just want to talk to you and show off that you’ve come…”
And frankly, you can’t deny that a part of you loves that, seeing every head in the room swivel toward your husband — with you on his arm — as the two of you enter a room. Tonight, for instance, there was even a grand staircase to sweep down, and Coryo made sure to pause so that you were both framed at the top. He, in a red velvet suit jacket and blank pants, a crisp white shirt standing out like freshly fallen snow against the rich fabrics; you, in a silver and white gown with a pattern of crystals that swirled over the material like a flurry of flakes.
But—
“But then they monopolize your time, and it’s been like this all week,” you finish, an undeniably wheedling tone in your voice that you aren’t all that proud of. “And I know it’s just going to get worse all the way through Christmas.”
Coryo looks at you with a little wince pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t forget about New Year’s,” he says, and your pout only deepens. He smooths his fingertips through your hair, trying to comfort you. “I know, darling. We have our obligations. I understand they can be tedious, but they are helpful. You know how important public image is for me.”
You sigh softly, rubbing your cheek against the soft material of his suit jacket. “I know,” you murmur.
He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “Although the papers just keep talking about how beautiful you look,” he teases lightly, making you giggle. “Hardly a mention of their poor president. Not that I blame them. I don’t notice anyone else when you’re in the room.”
You bury your face against his chest, in an attempt to hide your blush. It’s too dark for the ruby stain on your cheeks to show up, but if anyone would be able to discern it, it’s Coryo. Sometimes you think that your husband has the ability to read minds, at least yours.
Coryo takes the opportunity to cradle your head against his chest, fingers working into the chignon you have pinned at the nape of your neck, freeing the pins so your hair tumbles around your shoulders. You sigh softly in relief at the sensation.
“I hope you know,” he murmurs, “that if I could be spending all my time with you, I would. I’d let this country go to hell in a hand basket.”
You smile softly, even though you know that’s not quite true. Your husband has plans for Panem, and as much as he loves you, you know there’s no one in the world he would allow to get in the way of those plan s — not even his wife.
“How many more engagements do we have this week?” you ask, peeking up at him again.
The way Coryo nibbles on his plush lower lip makes it clear that there are going to be plenty. You purse your lips and let your head drop back onto his chest again.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs his apology into your hair. “You’ve been holding up so well, darling. I know you must be tired.”
You look up at him and shake your head. “It’s worth it, to be with you,” you tell him. “If this is the only time I can see you, I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”
Coryo cups your cheek in his palm, smiling gently. “My sweet girl,” he says.
The car pulls up in front of the presidential mansion, and the driver comes around to your side of the car to open your door for you. You take his hand, gathering your skirt up so you can step out without tripping over the hem. Coryo follows after you, putting his hand on the small of your back as the two of you mount the steps to the front door.
“At least we have this time to ourselves,” he murmurs in your ear, as the two of you step into the front hall. “These few hours before we go to bed are often the best part of my day.”
“They are?” you say.
“Mhm,” he says. “As beautiful as you look in all your finery, there’s something so delicious about seeing you in a natural state. It’s so…”
He pauses, searching for the right world. “Clean,” he murmurs. “Pure.”
Despite the words he’s chosen, you find fresh color burning in your cheeks. Maybe it’s because you love that he thinks of you that way — pure. As if you’re something delicate and lovely, someone to be cherished and taken care of. His treasure. His beloved.
He slips his arm around your waist snugly, drawing you against his side. You kick off your shoes, and before you can bend to pick them up, Coryo says, “Leave them.”
A moment later, he has you in his arms, carrying you bridal-style down the long hallway to the master suite. You squeal with surprise — and more than a little bit of pleasure — and wrap your arms around his shoulders, giggling helplessly.
He nudges one of the double doors open with his shoulder, and deposits you on the bed, swinging his arms so that you fly through the air and land safely on the middle of the vast, soft mattress with a little fwump. You’re still giggling when your maid comes in to help you undress. The maid smiles furtively as she helps you to your feet. She’s an older woman, with soft gray curls framing her face like a cloud, and she reminds you of your nana. Especially when she shoots you a little smile like this, an expression that tells you she thinks you and Coryo are just adorable.
In your bathroom, the maid combs out your hair, applies skin cream to your neck and face, and brings you nightgowns to choose from. As you slip into one, the soft cotton wrapping around your body, your eyes widen as an idea comes to you.
“Magda,” you say to your maid. “Would you do me a favor?”
After you explain what you need, Madga giggles like a woman thirty years younger. “I would be happy to arrange that for you, madam.”
The two of you grin at each other like a pair of little girls conspiring to steal cookies from the kitchen. You haven’t quite wiped the mischievous gleam from your eye when you crawl into bed with Coryo, who looks at you with a grin, arching an eyebrow.
“And what is it that has you looking so impish?” he teases.
Your smile widens and you shrug your shoulders. “You’ll see.”
Unsurprisingly, when you awake that morning, your husband has already gone to work. But you don’t mind this time, because you have a project to work on — and you’re glad, too, that his social engagement tonight is taking place at a cigar club. Normally you would turn up your nose at a place that excludes women, but you’re glad to have tonight free.
Or mostly free, at any rate.
Magda brings you several catalogues, and you pore over them intensely, trying to find something that will both suit you and catch Coryo’s eye. At last, near the last page of the fourth catalogue, your eye lands on the perfect thing. “Magda!” you gasp, snatching up the catalogue and waving it around in your excitement. “Come here! I found it!”
You write down the name of the item as it’s printed in the catalogue, and the size and color that you want. Magda grins at you and you grin back.
“I’ll go get it right now,” she says.
After spending a few moments studying the picture in the catalogue, pleased with your find, you decide to spend the day primping. You soak in a long, hot bath mixed with lavender oil, you wash and air dry your hair before wrapping the gleaming, soft locks in around curlers. While they set, you exfoliate away any remotely rough patches of skin, adding lotion to make sure your skin is sweetly scented and smooth.
When Magda gets home, you squeal and run toward her, nearly upsetting the curlers still sitting in your hair. “Did they have it?”
She beams at you. “They did!” she says, pulling it out of the bag with a flourish. “Here it is. I think it looks even better in person than it does in the picture, don’t you?”
“I do,” you say, beaming yourself, holding it by the hanger and studying the way the material catches the light. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
You don’t have to specify who.
“Oh, madam, I think he will love it.”
Waiting for your husband to come home seems to take an age, but you finally hear the front door open and the sound of servants rushing to greet him, to take his coat and offer him a drink. You took the curlers out of your hair hours ago, and combed out your hair until it falls around your face in soft, gentle waves. You kneel in the middle of the bed, wearing the item Magda rushed out to buy for you.
When the doors to the master suite open, you see Coryo framed between them, and your breath catches in your throat. Goodness, he really is so handsome. He’s clearly still lost in whatever thoughts accompanied home from the cigar club, but then he focuses on you. Coryo’s eyes widen, and then — your breath comes out in a rush of relief — he smiles at you.
“Oh, my,” he says softly. “Did Christmas come early?”
You smile back at him. “For you,” you say. “Just one little gift.”
Coryo steps into the room, shutting the doors firmly behind him. You hear the lock click, which makes your heart give a pleasant little jump in your chest. He steps toward you, reaching out to caress one of the ribbons on your shoulder.
“My love,” he says softly, “there is nothing about you that can be diminished by a little word like just. Especially not tonight.”
Tonight, red silk clings to your skin, highlighting your curves in a warm shade of scarlet. A trim of mulberry lace rests against your thighs and follows the lines of your collarbones, standing stark against your fair skin. Ruby ribbons are tied at each shoulder. If the delicate knots are undone, the silk nightie would just slip down your body to puddle in your lap.
Coryo reaches out and unties one knot.
“You said this was your favorite time of day,” you murmur, looking up at him. “So I thought I would make it particularly special.”
He brushes his fingertips over your cheek, down the curve of your neck to your other shoulder, brushing against the ribbon without untying it.
“There is no man in Panem luckier than I am,” he says. “I was thinking about you all day. Longing for you. And now I come home to find you wrapped up in bows and silk like the most precious gift I could ever hope to receive.”
You bit your lip, looking up at him. “I’m already yours,” you say. “I have been from the moment I met you.”
He takes your hand and draws you off the bed so that you stand in front of him, his fingers finding the other knot. Coryo gives one ribbon a slow, careful pull, his eyes on yours.
“I can only hope to deserve your devotion,” he says. “And to prove to you every day, every moment, that it is entirely reciprocated. I belong to you.”
Without breaking his gaze, he gives the ribbon another tug, the knot falling apart completely. The delicate material slips over your upper body, catching on your hips for only a moment before your husband reaches down and gives a little tug, so that it slides down your legs and puddles at your feet.
“You belong to me?” you repeat.
Coryo nods. His eyes never waver.
“Yes,” he says.
Your fingers brush against the buttons of his shirt. “Then let me unwrap you, too.”
He smiles, and you think you detect a hint of pink in his cheeks. “Please do.”
Hours later, as you drift to sleep with your head pillowed on Coryo’s bare chest, you think — as much as you are looking forward to Christmas morning — no other gift is going to compare to this.
OMG!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I LOVE YOUU!!♡♡♡
I Bet You Think About Me | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (District12!reader)
Summary: On the day of his wedding he had everything... except for the bride that he wanted.
Warning/s: angst, kind of like hurt/no comfort kind of thing, wedding, marriage without love, Coryo is drinking alcohol, reader is basically Lucy Gray in this situation, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: I'M BACKK!! I missed writing so much, to be honest. All those Coryo and Lucy Gray edits to this song, plus the music video, inspired me to do this. Enjoy!
3 AM and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine
Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine
And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree
And I'll bet your friends tell you she's better than me, huh
Coriolanus Snow. The young president of Panem. He truly now felt like he had everything. He did an outstanding job as the Gamemaker. In fact, not long after, his work was praised so much that he could finally take that last step to get what he always, truly wanted. And he, in fact, did it. He was the newest president of Panem, and he knew that that was going to last for a very long time.
He had the title. He had the riches. He never had to starve ever again. He never had to wear poorly made clothes. He had the trust of the people in the Capitol, and he had the control of those in the Districts.
But as a president, everyone expected of him to choose his First Lady of Panem as quicklyaspossible, and he knew that it couldn't be just anybody.
So here he was today. Dressed up in a traditional but quite modern black tuxedo with a white undershirt and a purely white rose tucked into his suit on the right side of his chest. Standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, preparing his wedding speech that he will have to say once he and Livia Cardew are standing on the aisle.
Livia Cardew. She was truly perfect for him. He didn't love her, of course, but that was also his own choice. That's what made her perfect for him.
Once he was forced to find himself a bride because every elite in the Capitol kept pushing, he realized that he truly had no choice. He had to keep up his reputation respectable. So, of course, he knew that his wife, the Future Lady of the Panem, couldn't be just anybody.
Livia Cardew was rich. Her family was too, of course. Their family was respected and considered quite important. Plus, she was pretty. He couldn't really deny that, really.
He chose power, money and reputation that Livia had instead of the love, kindness and compassion that came with you.
He chose it that day that he left you in the woods of District 12. He never knew what happened to you. Did you die? Did you manage to run away in the storm that somehow messed up his head. And perhaps High-as-a-kite-Bottom was telling him some sort of truth when he said that mysteries had a way of driving people mad. And perhaps, if he stayed with you, he would marry someone for love.
Coriolanus let out a groan, shaking his head in a poor attempt to shake those thoughts away. His love for you made him weak. Weak in a way that he never wanted to experience ever again.
Livia didn't have his heart like you did. He doesn't love her. Therefore, he shall never feel weak ever again. He wanted that. He wanted to never love Livia. It was easy, though. It was easy not falling in love with her. Easy compared to you.
But no! He simply refused to think about you on this day. The day of his wedding. He refused the thoughts of you to consume his mind once again. Coriolanus wouldn't let that happen.
So he turned back to the giant mirror that stood in front of him and started to go over his vows once again.
"My darling Livia. You are the most beautiful person I have every encountered." Coriolanus felt his breath shorten at his own lies. "And today, I am honored to be your husband."
It was so fake. It was so cheesy. It was so untrue.
He had to prepare the speech for his bride. For the bride that he never loved.
"Mr. President?" One of the servants came in and addressed him shortly. "It's time."
"I will be there shortly." Coriolanus replied coldly, and the servant closed the door behind him.
Once the door was closed shut once again, he let out a quite loud sigh. In just a few minutes Livia will become a Snow and he will have to proudly show off his little wife that tormented and made fun of him for years during his academy days.
With that thought, President Coriolanus Snow stepped forward towards the door. On the doorway, he lingered. He looked out of the window across his room. He looked out on the city of the Capitol and its glamor and riches and he once again came to a realization that Livia was a perfect fit for his lifestyle unlike you. But he won't ever think of you again.
With the thoughts of you that once again swarmed his head, he loudly closed the door behind himself. Slamming it shut.
Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles
Yeah, they let me sit in back when we were in love
Oh, they sit around talkin' 'bout the meaning of life
And the book that just saved 'em that I hadn't heard of
After the priest said everything that needed to be said and after Coriolanus, and Livia, did everything that needed to be done the young, freshly married couple walked towards the reception, quickly being surrounded by the Capitol's elite that eagerly introduced themselves like they were one of the most important people there.
Perhaps they were, not that Coriolanus cared even a slightest bit.
Livia was standing in the middle of the circle made by the numerous Capitol's elite while he was standing next to her, a glass of posca in his hand. He knew that drinking that liquid in his glass was not the smartest thing for him considering the fact that the alcoholic drink was perhaps a bit too strong.
Not like he considered it worth giving a damn. He needed something very strong to wash away the feeling of Livia Snow's lips on his once the priest said that he can now kiss his bride.
And now, as he took yet another sip from the tall glass, he still felt disgusted by her. Himself. The whole situation.
A few more minutes, that to Coriolanus felt like hours, passed by. The people's excited chatter. The joy of the new President and the Panem's First Lady was over-the-top evident on everyone's face, except for his.
Livia was bathing in attention that were given to her, smiling, quite pleased with the whole situation. Coriolanus felt like he was going to throw up as he watched the scene unfold in front of him as he, too, had to pretend to be happy with everything.
And perhaps it was to much of the posca that he drowned that night or perhaps it was all of the whiteness of the entire reception that made him think what he thought. Hear what he heard.
As he took another sip from the glass, he could have sworn that he heard that melodic voice that haunted both his dreams and his worst nightmares.
But now that we're done and it's over
I bet you couldn't believe
When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave
And I bet you think about me
Coriolanus watched with wide eyes as you stood a few feet away from him, dressed in the blood-red dress that reached the floor barely as it hugged your frame perfectly. You, in your red dress, stood out so perfectly among the white clothes that every guest was required to wear. You stood out so much, he wondered how nobody but him noticed you.
You stood tall and proud by the enormously big wedding cake, which required the front door to be taken away so it could be placed where it was. Snow remembered watching the staff bringing in the cake, the door laying on the grass behind the servant as they carried the said cake. It was ridiculous.
You turned towards the cake, not noticing his ever so blue eyes trailing on you as you moved.
Coriolanus felt his breath shorten once again as he watched your everlasting beauty. He was suddenly very aware of the cool glass that contained posca in his hand and the cold sweat that was sliding down his spine. Was it panic? Was it anticipation? He didn't know.
He watched you as you stretched your hand out towards the top of the cake as you stood on the gigantic table where it was placed, your red heels clicking as you did so.
Suddenly, you knocked over two figures, one of himself and one of Livia dressed up for their wedding. He let out a quiet, barely audible, gasp as you did so and then slowly lowered yourself to the ground.
A little girl, dressed in white, a guest, appeared you as Coriolanus watched. You quickly froze, standing completely still. After a very short while, you slid your finger over the icing of the cake and put the finger in your mouth, tasting the cake.
The little girl smiled and did the same. You and the girl shared the smile before you struck your hand into the cake, ripping one piece out revealing the red color under the purely white cake before you shoved it into your mouth, eating it. The little girl ran off after getting the taste of the delicious cake as you chewed on your piece.
As you did so, Coriolanus and you established eye contact. You made a grimace that clearly indicated that you were disappointed that you had been caught.
Coriolanus Snow allowed himself to blink for a moment to compose himself, and once he re-opened, you were gone.
You grew up in a silver-spoon gated community
Glamorous, shiny, bright Beverly Hills
I was raised on a farm, no, it wasn't a mansion
Just livin' room dancin' and kitchen table bills
Coriolanus and Livia sat down at the front of the reception as the entertainer did his job. He entered the guests of the Capitol’s elite with the microphone in his hand, tight grip on it, which showed Coriolanus that he was nervous.
Coriolanus brushed it off because, all things considered, he was doing quite a good job. He even found himself laughing along to the jokes that were being made.
After one more joke, he turned to one of the Capitol’s elite to quietly, with a smile on his face, discuss the joke that was made. However, the moment he turned back around, his smile disappeared at the sight in front of him.
You were standing there, in a red suit, with a red microphone on your hands, making jokes.
"And then," you spoke in the fit of giggles. "He left me in the woods to die after he told me he loved me."
You laughed after it, and every single Capitol’s elite followed. Coriolanus felt like he wanted to die at that moment, the look of pure horror planted onto his face.
"And best of all was that he HIMSELF tried to kill me with a gun!" You smiled as you tapped a few times on the table near Livia as you pointed at him with a smile, and every single guest of the wedding reception broke into laughter once again.
This can't be real, can it? Coriolanus thought to himself as he watched you.
But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for
And you and I fell like an early spring snow
But reality crept in, you said we're too different
You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes
After that, you, out of nowhere, pulled out a little red box as you made your way towards Livia, who was looking at you with anticipation and excitement.
You handed her your gift as Coriolanus found it harder and harder to breathe.
Livia quickly, but gracefully, opened the box as she removed the ribbon on top.
And as she pulled out the shawl that belonged to Coriolanus' mother, he felt like he was going to scream at the top of his lungs.
It was the shawl that Coriolanus gifted to you back when the two of you took off into the woods. That was the only thing that he found once he started to chase you through the woods. He never found you, though.
Livia placed it around her as she thanked you for the gift. Everyone around you swooned at your sweet gesture as they clapped pleasingly.
You bowed your head down slowly after you drowned the glass of alcohol, falling into the crowd of guests. Disappearing once again.
Now you're out in the world, searchin' for your soul
Scared not to be hip, scared to get old
Chasin' make-believe status, last time you felt free
Was when none of that shit mattered 'cause you were with me
Coriolanus chased after you, trying to catch you. He was suddenly blinded by the light because of the photographer that was taking pictured.
After the photographer went away, Coriolanus rubbed his eyes as his vision, thankfully, turned back to normal. He looked ahead.
And there you were. In a while wedding dress. The back of the dress was trailing behind you. The dress was also graced by white roses all over it. Your hair was in a type of hairstyle that was holding it all up. Your eyes were watching his every move as you stood in front of him.
Coriolanus felt like he couldn't breathe, and so, for a moment, he felt himself longing to cherish every moment of this.
It was just like Coriolanus had imagined it. You as his bride, himself as your groom. It was everything that he truly needed. Everything he ever wanted. Just you and him. You two of you having your first dance as a freshly married couple.
Suddenly, all lights but one went away. The white light above you shined as Coriolanus tried to catch his breath.
He slowly stepped forward, and you immediately followed his lead. Soon, you were standing in front of each other. Chest to chest. So intimate. So perfect.
He slowly reached for your hand, placing it onto his as he soaked up the feeling of your soft skin against his.
He slid his other hand around your waist, bringing you closer to him as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. For a moment, everything stood still. For a moment, the only thing that Coriolanus could hear was his breathing and the beating of his heart.
Coriolanus and you leaned your foreheads against each other, noses brushing. Coriolanus closed his eyes. He never wanted this to end. Then you started to dance.
You were moving with such grace as he spinned you around. His hand in yours as you slided around the dance floor.
"Coryo," your soft voice that whispered in his ear broke the peaceful silence, and his eyes snapped to yours. His eyes. His ocean blue eyes that were always so cold now looked at you with so much gentleness and pure adoration.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything, my love." Coriolanus answered without any hesitation.
"Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for was the love that you had?"
Coriolanus was speechless. The look in your eyes caused the lump in his throat to be stuck there forevermore. He didn't say anything. He didn't protest to your claim. How could he? You were right. On the day of his wedding, he wished to marry you, not Livia. He never found in Livia what he did in you, and he, let's be honest, never will.
Suddenly, before he could stop you, you moved away from him, letting go of his hand and shoulder.
But now that we're done and it's over
I bet it's hard to believe
But it turned out I'm harder to forget than I was to leave
And, yeah, I bet you think about me
You lifted the front of your dress a little bit so you could walk without tripping over. You gazed over your shoulder at Coriolanus before you continued to walk away.
Once you were far away from him, you turned around, quickly causing your hair to fall down your shoulders as you leaned towards him.
All of a sudden, your dress turned red, and as you took a hold of your guitar that he knew all too well (hihi, get it?) the white roses on your dress were painted red.
The white curtain behind you fell, revealing the red light and the Covey as you played your guitar, softly swaying to the music you made.
"I hope you get what you deserve, Coriolanus Snow," you spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more. "But I don't need to worry. You will get what you deserve one day."
With a soft smile, you started to sing.
I bet you think about me when you're out
At your cool indie music concerts every week
I bet you think about me in your house
With your organic shoes and your million-dollar couch
I bet you think about me when you say
"Oh my God, she's insane, she wrote a song about me"
I bet you think about me 🌹
->
->
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TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @10ava01 @regulusblackcore @writesleah @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @caroline-books @runningfrom2am
I Bet You Think About Me | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (District12!reader)
Summary: On the day of his wedding he had everything... except for the bride that he wanted.
Warning/s: angst, kind of like hurt/no comfort kind of thing, wedding, marriage without love, Coryo is drinking alcohol, reader is basically Lucy Gray in this situation, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: I'M BACKK!! I missed writing so much, to be honest. All those Coryo and Lucy Gray edits to this song, plus the music video, inspired me to do this. Enjoy!
3 AM and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine
Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine
And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree
And I'll bet your friends tell you she's better than me, huh
Coriolanus Snow. The young president of Panem. He truly now felt like he had everything. He did an outstanding job as the Gamemaker. In fact, not long after, his work was praised so much that he could finally take that last step to get what he always, truly wanted. And he, in fact, did it. He was the newest president of Panem, and he knew that that was going to last for a very long time.
He had the title. He had the riches. He never had to starve ever again. He never had to wear poorly made clothes. He had the trust of the people in the Capitol, and he had the control of those in the Districts.
But as a president, everyone expected of him to choose his First Lady of Panem as quicklyaspossible, and he knew that it couldn't be just anybody.
So here he was today. Dressed up in a traditional but quite modern black tuxedo with a white undershirt and a purely white rose tucked into his suit on the right side of his chest. Standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, preparing his wedding speech that he will have to say once he and Livia Cardew are standing on the aisle.
Livia Cardew. She was truly perfect for him. He didn't love her, of course, but that was also his own choice. That's what made her perfect for him.
Once he was forced to find himself a bride because every elite in the Capitol kept pushing, he realized that he truly had no choice. He had to keep up his reputation respectable. So, of course, he knew that his wife, the Future Lady of the Panem, couldn't be just anybody.
Livia Cardew was rich. Her family was too, of course. Their family was respected and considered quite important. Plus, she was pretty. He couldn't really deny that, really.
He chose power, money and reputation that Livia had instead of the love, kindness and compassion that came with you.
He chose it that day that he left you in the woods of District 12. He never knew what happened to you. Did you die? Did you manage to run away in the storm that somehow messed up his head. And perhaps High-as-a-kite-Bottom was telling him some sort of truth when he said that mysteries had a way of driving people mad. And perhaps, if he stayed with you, he would marry someone for love.
Coriolanus let out a groan, shaking his head in a poor attempt to shake those thoughts away. His love for you made him weak. Weak in a way that he never wanted to experience ever again.
Livia didn't have his heart like you did. He doesn't love her. Therefore, he shall never feel weak ever again. He wanted that. He wanted to never love Livia. It was easy, though. It was easy not falling in love with her. Easy compared to you.
But no! He simply refused to think about you on this day. The day of his wedding. He refused the thoughts of you to consume his mind once again. Coriolanus wouldn't let that happen.
So he turned back to the giant mirror that stood in front of him and started to go over his vows once again.
"My darling Livia. You are the most beautiful person I have every encountered." Coriolanus felt his breath shorten at his own lies. "And today, I am honored to be your husband."
It was so fake. It was so cheesy. It was so untrue.
He had to prepare the speech for his bride. For the bride that he never loved.
"Mr. President?" One of the servants came in and addressed him shortly. "It's time."
"I will be there shortly." Coriolanus replied coldly, and the servant closed the door behind him.
Once the door was closed shut once again, he let out a quite loud sigh. In just a few minutes Livia will become a Snow and he will have to proudly show off his little wife that tormented and made fun of him for years during his academy days.
With that thought, President Coriolanus Snow stepped forward towards the door. On the doorway, he lingered. He looked out of the window across his room. He looked out on the city of the Capitol and its glamor and riches and he once again came to a realization that Livia was a perfect fit for his lifestyle unlike you. But he won't ever think of you again.
With the thoughts of you that once again swarmed his head, he loudly closed the door behind himself. Slamming it shut.
Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles
Yeah, they let me sit in back when we were in love
Oh, they sit around talkin' 'bout the meaning of life
And the book that just saved 'em that I hadn't heard of
After the priest said everything that needed to be said and after Coriolanus, and Livia, did everything that needed to be done the young, freshly married couple walked towards the reception, quickly being surrounded by the Capitol's elite that eagerly introduced themselves like they were one of the most important people there.
Perhaps they were, not that Coriolanus cared even a slightest bit.
Livia was standing in the middle of the circle made by the numerous Capitol's elite while he was standing next to her, a glass of posca in his hand. He knew that drinking that liquid in his glass was not the smartest thing for him considering the fact that the alcoholic drink was perhaps a bit too strong.
Not like he considered it worth giving a damn. He needed something very strong to wash away the feeling of Livia Snow's lips on his once the priest said that he can now kiss his bride.
And now, as he took yet another sip from the tall glass, he still felt disgusted by her. Himself. The whole situation.
A few more minutes, that to Coriolanus felt like hours, passed by. The people's excited chatter. The joy of the new President and the Panem's First Lady was over-the-top evident on everyone's face, except for his.
Livia was bathing in attention that were given to her, smiling, quite pleased with the whole situation. Coriolanus felt like he was going to throw up as he watched the scene unfold in front of him as he, too, had to pretend to be happy with everything.
And perhaps it was to much of the posca that he drowned that night or perhaps it was all of the whiteness of the entire reception that made him think what he thought. Hear what he heard.
As he took another sip from the glass, he could have sworn that he heard that melodic voice that haunted both his dreams and his worst nightmares.
But now that we're done and it's over
I bet you couldn't believe
When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave
And I bet you think about me
Coriolanus watched with wide eyes as you stood a few feet away from him, dressed in the blood-red dress that reached the floor barely as it hugged your frame perfectly. You, in your red dress, stood out so perfectly among the white clothes that every guest was required to wear. You stood out so much, he wondered how nobody but him noticed you.
You stood tall and proud by the enormously big wedding cake, which required the front door to be taken away so it could be placed where it was. Snow remembered watching the staff bringing in the cake, the door laying on the grass behind the servant as they carried the said cake. It was ridiculous.
You turned towards the cake, not noticing his ever so blue eyes trailing on you as you moved.
Coriolanus felt his breath shorten once again as he watched your everlasting beauty. He was suddenly very aware of the cool glass that contained posca in his hand and the cold sweat that was sliding down his spine. Was it panic? Was it anticipation? He didn't know.
He watched you as you stretched your hand out towards the top of the cake as you stood on the gigantic table where it was placed, your red heels clicking as you did so.
Suddenly, you knocked over two figures, one of himself and one of Livia dressed up for their wedding. He let out a quiet, barely audible, gasp as you did so and then slowly lowered yourself to the ground.
A little girl, dressed in white, a guest, appeared you as Coriolanus watched. You quickly froze, standing completely still. After a very short while, you slid your finger over the icing of the cake and put the finger in your mouth, tasting the cake.
The little girl smiled and did the same. You and the girl shared the smile before you struck your hand into the cake, ripping one piece out revealing the red color under the purely white cake before you shoved it into your mouth, eating it. The little girl ran off after getting the taste of the delicious cake as you chewed on your piece.
As you did so, Coriolanus and you established eye contact. You made a grimace that clearly indicated that you were disappointed that you had been caught.
Coriolanus Snow allowed himself to blink for a moment to compose himself, and once he re-opened, you were gone.
You grew up in a silver-spoon gated community
Glamorous, shiny, bright Beverly Hills
I was raised on a farm, no, it wasn't a mansion
Just livin' room dancin' and kitchen table bills
Coriolanus and Livia sat down at the front of the reception as the entertainer did his job. He entered the guests of the Capitol’s elite with the microphone in his hand, tight grip on it, which showed Coriolanus that he was nervous.
Coriolanus brushed it off because, all things considered, he was doing quite a good job. He even found himself laughing along to the jokes that were being made.
After one more joke, he turned to one of the Capitol’s elite to quietly, with a smile on his face, discuss the joke that was made. However, the moment he turned back around, his smile disappeared at the sight in front of him.
You were standing there, in a red suit, with a red microphone on your hands, making jokes.
"And then," you spoke in the fit of giggles. "He left me in the woods to die after he told me he loved me."
You laughed after it, and every single Capitol’s elite followed. Coriolanus felt like he wanted to die at that moment, the look of pure horror planted onto his face.
"And best of all was that he HIMSELF tried to kill me with a gun!" You smiled as you tapped a few times on the table near Livia as you pointed at him with a smile, and every single guest of the wedding reception broke into laughter once again.
This can't be real, can it? Coriolanus thought to himself as he watched you.
But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for
And you and I fell like an early spring snow
But reality crept in, you said we're too different
You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes
After that, you, out of nowhere, pulled out a little red box as you made your way towards Livia, who was looking at you with anticipation and excitement.
You handed her your gift as Coriolanus found it harder and harder to breathe.
Livia quickly, but gracefully, opened the box as she removed the ribbon on top.
And as she pulled out the shawl that belonged to Coriolanus' mother, he felt like he was going to scream at the top of his lungs.
It was the shawl that Coriolanus gifted to you back when the two of you took off into the woods. That was the only thing that he found once he started to chase you through the woods. He never found you, though.
Livia placed it around her as she thanked you for the gift. Everyone around you swooned at your sweet gesture as they clapped pleasingly.
You bowed your head down slowly after you drowned the glass of alcohol, falling into the crowd of guests. Disappearing once again.
Now you're out in the world, searchin' for your soul
Scared not to be hip, scared to get old
Chasin' make-believe status, last time you felt free
Was when none of that shit mattered 'cause you were with me
Coriolanus chased after you, trying to catch you. He was suddenly blinded by the light because of the photographer that was taking pictures.
After the photographer went away, Coriolanus rubbed his eyes as his vision, thankfully, turned back to normal. He looked ahead.
And there you were. In a while wedding dress. The back of the dress was trailing behind you. The dress was also graced by white roses all over it. Your hair was in a type of hairstyle that was holding it all up. Your eyes were watching his every move as you stood in front of him.
Coriolanus felt like he couldn't breathe, and so, for a moment, he felt himself longing to cherish every moment of this.
It was just like Coriolanus had imagined it. You as his bride, himself as your groom. It was everything that he truly needed. Everything he ever wanted. Just you and him. You two of you having your first dance as a freshly married couple.
Suddenly, all lights but one went away. The white light above you shined as Coriolanus tried to catch his breath.
He slowly stepped forward, and you immediately followed his lead. Soon, you were standing in front of each other. Chest to chest. So intimate. So perfect.
He slowly reached for your hand, placing it onto his as he soaked up the feeling of your soft skin against his.
He slid his other hand around your waist, bringing you closer to him as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. For a moment, everything stood still. For a moment, the only thing that Coriolanus could hear was his breathing and the beating of his heart.
Coriolanus and you leaned your foreheads against each other, noses brushing. Coriolanus closed his eyes. He never wanted this to end. Then you started to dance.
You were moving with such grace as he spinned you around. His hand in yours as you slided around the dance floor.
"Coryo," your soft voice that whispered in his ear broke the peaceful silence, and his eyes snapped to yours. His eyes. His ocean blue eyes that were always so cold now looked at you with so much gentleness and pure adoration.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything, my love." Coriolanus answered without any hesitation.
"Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for was the love that you had?"
Coriolanus was speechless. The look in your eyes caused the lump in his throat to be stuck there forevermore. He didn't say anything. He didn't protest to your claim. How could he? You were right. On the day of his wedding, he wished to marry you, not Livia. He never found in Livia what he did in you, and he, let's be honest, never will.
Suddenly, before he could stop you, you moved away from him, letting go of his hand and shoulder.
But now that we're done and it's over
I bet it's hard to believe
But it turned out I'm harder to forget than I was to leave
And, yeah, I bet you think about me
You lifted the front of your dress a little bit so you could walk without tripping over. You gazed over your shoulder at Coriolanus before you continued to walk away.
Once you were far away from him, you turned around, quickly causing your hair to fall down your shoulders as you leaned towards him.
All of a sudden, your dress turned red, and as you took a hold of your guitar that he knew all too well (hihi, get it?) the white roses on your dress were painted red.
The white curtain behind you fell, revealing the red light and the Covey as you played your guitar, softly swaying to the music you made.
"I hope you get what you deserve, Coriolanus Snow," you spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more. "But I don't need to worry. You will get what you deserve one day."
With a soft smile, you started to sing.
I bet you think about me when you're out
At your cool indie music concerts every week
I bet you think about me in your house
With your organic shoes and your million-dollar couch
I bet you think about me when you say
"Oh my God, she's insane, she wrote a song about me"
I bet you think about me 🌹
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TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @10ava01 @regulusblackcore @writesleah @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @caroline-books @runningfrom2am
OMG!!! ✨️ Thank you SO MUCH for adding me on your list of recommendation for TWO FICS!! Love you so much!!♡
coriolanus snow recs
make out sesh | drabble, fluff | @murdrdocs
kiss is better | imagine, flangst | @venuslore
a touch of red | drabble, fluff | @lex-the-flex
the songbird | imagine, trifecta (smut/angst/fluff) | @pawnshopbleus
ignorance is bliss | imagine, fluff | @allbark-no-bite
the fall of snow | imagine, angst | @writersblockiskillingme
jealous lover | imagine, fluffy flangst | @hearts4hughes
peace | imagine, flangst (more fluff) | @writersblockiskillingme
distraction | imagine, fluff | @itsbuckytm
thin line | imagine, fluff (some angst) | @ghostfacd
childhood best friend | headcanon, fluff | @nightmare-niko
touch my waist | drabble, fluff | @spideyhexx
wildflower | imagine, fluff | @venuslore
cross your heart and hope to die | imagine, flangst | @surftrips
losing your memory | two shot, angst | @kasagia
please don't go, i love you so | imagine, fluff | @ervotica
it burns for you | series | @darknight3904
sickly confessions | imagine, fluff | @coryosmin
miss | imagine, fluff | @wyniepooh
snow and roses | series | @kitscutie
needing you to sit on his face | imagine, smut | @murdrdocs
fake-love | imagine, flangst | @lqveharrington
bitter cold | imagine, flangst (little smut at the end) | @evielmostdefinitely
winter gala | imagine, fluff | @lqveharrington
Headcanons of being snows bestfriend and seeing him turn into that devious dude 🙏
When Did It All Go Wrong | Coriolanus Snow Headcanons
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x best friend!reader
Warning/s: angst, old!Coriolanus Snow, talk about cruelty, death, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: Here you go. I hope that you enjoy!
Coriolanus Snow and you were inseparable as children.
You were both born into the elite families of the Capitol so it was acceptable that your lives intertwined from a very young age.
You two used to spend those days exploring the grandeur of the Capitol, dreaming of the future where you could make a difference in all of Panem.
However, as you grew older, your ideologies began to diverge.
Snow was groomed to be a leader, thought that power and control were necessary to maintain order.
You on the other hand, developed a deep empathy for the people of Panem, especially the ones from Districts.
You believed in a leadership that was compassionate and fair.
So Snows rise to power was not sudden but gradual.
He was a master manipulator, forming alliances and eliminating threats.
He believed that fear was a necessity tool to maintain order and control.
His charisma and cunning made him a formidable leader.
You couldn't do anything but to watch as your best friend transformed into a leader you could barely recognize.
Into a person you could barely recognize.
You found yourself being torn between your loyalty to Snow and your concern for the people of Panem, but your please to him fell on deaf ears.
Many years later, a rebellion that sparked in one of the Districts marked a turning point in Snow's leadership.
The rebellion hardened Snow's resolve to rule with an iron fist.
He implemented even harsher laws and increased the frequency of the Hunger Games.
You could only stand aside and watch as your best friend turned into a tyrant.
Despite your disagreement with Coriolanus' methods, you chose to stay by his side.
You hoped that perhaps you could somehow prevail in influencing his decisions from within.
So you tried to mitigate the damage caused by Snow's politicies, often working behind the scenes to provide aid to the Districts as much as you possibly could.
In a desperate attempt to change the course of Panem's future, you planned to undermine Snow.
You secretly gathered support from like-minded individuals within the Capitol, even though there were little of those.
However, your plans were discovered, leading to a tragic fallout between the two friends that sparked another rebellion.
Your death.
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TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
peace was so good :,) could you write about swimming with corio in the lake?
The Lakes | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
Summary: You spend your time with Coryo at the lake in the woods as the sun sets down.
Warning/s: fluff, Coriolanus in love, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: This one is extremely short and I changed some things, but I hope you still like it.
Soft, green grass brushed against your legs as you walked through the Meadow to get to a lake in a hidden spot outside of District 12.
The rough plants with pointy ends were brushing against your legs lightly scratching you, but you tried to pay it no mind as you tear your way through to get to the lake.
After a while you reached your destination as you came to a sudden stop. The sun was slowly setting down as you stared ahead into the distance, but it was still covering the entire Meadow giving the flowers and the lake a gorgeous shimmer making it seem like this sight is eternal.
For a moment you allowed yourself to close your eyes, enjoying the short, but somehow everlasting peace, that you got while you waited for him to come to you.
You didn't have to wait long.
All of a sudden a pair of strong yet comforting arms wrapped around you giving you a sense of protection yet you couldn't help but to let out a quiet shriek at the sudden feeling, quickly opening your eyes and turning around to look at him.
Coriolanus was already watching you, his eyes full of love for you. He revealed in the way that the wind was lightly carrying your beautiful hair around just like the sundress you wore on a weirdly warm day.
Your smile was infectious, he couldn't help but to return it as he showed you the happiness that he felt at that moment.
"Let's go and swim in the lake." You suggested as you stepped away, trying to get rid of the sundress that you wore, tossing it aside.
Coriolanus gave you a boyish smile as he started to take of his white shirt and his gray pants, agreeing with your offer to cool of.
He returned the joyous laugh that you gave him as he ran after you towards the edge of the lake, his dog tag dangling around his neck as he did that.
You two soon found yourself in the cool lake swimming towards each other. Coriolanus wrapped his arms around your chest as he slowly brought you closer to him, his piercing blue eyes never leaving yours as he did that.
He slowly glazed his hand on your cheek before moving it onto your neck to bring you closer colliding your lips together while being in a warm embrace.
You both soked up moments like these as much as you could. Giving each other the sense of comfort, protection and love.
Coriolanus never thought that anything like this was ever going to happen to him, and even if it did he wasn't so sure that he could love anyone this much who was worth risking everything in his life once again for.
The moment he met you, he knew something changed. He fell hard, but he knew the risks.
The Peacekeepers weren't supposed to be romantically involved with anyone during their time of service.
He knew very well that if anyone catches your longing glances that you were sanding to each other across the room, if anyone saw you talking to each other a little to close for comfort or if anyone saw you two spending a lot more time with each other than necessary, let alone see you holding hands or kissing you would be doomed.
If anyone noticed how you both lose your breath every time you looked into each other's eyes it would be all over for you both.
They could deport him to another District or fire him from his service. You could've been severely punished. Hell, they could kill you both, hang you on the hanging tree or just shoot you on sight.
But as you two held each other in the comforting silence that only comes when two people understand each other and as you exchanged the words that confirmed your love for each other and as you exchanged a billion kisses, he knew that it was all worth it.
You were worth it, and after a long time he came to a conclusion that he maybe deserves your endless love and comfort that you brought him every day.
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TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
Whispers of Shadows: A Capitol Love Lost
This is a short story. I just wanted to write something that I thought about when I was watching the movie. It has a sad ending, depending on how you view it. and all the pictures are from Pinterest.
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The opulent halls of the Academy for Capitol Youth buzzed with excitement as students in their crisp school uniforms mingled, their laughter echoing against the marble walls. Among them moved a figure that commanded attention — young Coriolanus Snow, the scion of a once-proud family fallen on hard times. His icy blue eyes and impeccably styled blonde hair belied the struggles hidden beneath the surface.
Enter Monica Crestwood, a vision of elegance and grace despite the standard school uniform. Her family's wealth dripped from every carefully chosen accessory, from the way she carried herself with poise to the sparkling kindness that set her apart from the Capitol's typically callous elite.
Monica and Coriolanus had been inseparable since they first crossed paths at the Academy. Bonded by a shared understanding of familial expectations and the pressures of societal standing, their connection deepened as they leaned on each other for support in the face of adversity.
Monica's compassion extended beyond the polished halls of the Academy, reaching into the very heart of the Snow family's struggles. She sought to bridge the gap between the Crestwoods and the Snows, understanding that Coriolanus's family was teetering on the precipice of ruin. Monica's parents, however, disapproved of her association with the Snows, deeming it a threat to their carefully cultivated image.
Despite the frosty reception from her family, Monica persevered in her efforts to help Coriolanus. She offered support in the form of clandestine financial aid, discreetly providing assistance to the Snows without her parents' knowledge. Her love for Coriolanus was unwavering, and she believed in a future where they could rise above the obstacles that threatened to tear them apart.
As the 10th Hunger Games approached, the Capitol was abuzz with anticipation. This year's tributes were selected, and among them was a girl named Lucy Gray, whose ethereal beauty and captivating presence had captured the attention of all. Coriolanus, tasked with mentoring Lucy Gray, found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn't comprehend.
Monica, sensing the shift in dynamics, struggled with a growing sense of unease. Coriolanus, engrossed in the world of the Hunger Games, became increasingly distant. The once inseparable couple found themselves on opposite sides of a growing chasm, their worlds spinning in different directions.
Amidst the lavish parties and glittering distractions of the Capitol, Monica grappled with the realization that she was losing Coriolanus to the allure of the Games. The once unbreakable bond they shared seemed fragile, as though the weight of the Hunger Games threatened to shatter the foundation of their love.
In the dimly lit corners of the Academy, Monica watched as Coriolanus and Lucy Gray's interactions deepened. The spark that ignited between them cast a shadow over Monica's heart, leaving her feeling abandoned and isolated. As the Games approached, Monica wrestled with the looming fear that she might lose not only Coriolanus but also the person she once knew him to be.
Little did she know that the coming days would test the limits of her love and loyalty, forcing her to confront the harsh realities of the Capitol's machinations and the unpredictable nature of the Hunger Games.
The Capitol's effervescent energy reached its peak as the Games commenced. Monica, adorned in the standard school uniform that all students wore, stood in the crowd, her eyes fixated on the arena. Coriolanus, now fully immersed in his role as a mentor, exuded a confidence that Monica had not seen before.
The tributes, including Lucy Gray, entered the arena, their faces a mix of fear and determination. Monica's heart pounded as she watched the spectacle unfold on the screens. The opulence of the Capitol contrasted sharply with the brutality of the Games, and Monica couldn't help but question the society that reveled in such a spectacle.
As the days passed, Monica's inner turmoil grew. The divide between her and Coriolanus widened, exacerbated by the Capitol's intoxicating influence. Late nights turned into early mornings as Monica grappled with her conflicting emotions, torn between loyalty to Coriolanus and an unsettling realization that the Games were changing him.
In the hushed corridors of the Academy, Monica overheard whispers of alliances and betrayals within the arena. The Games were a ruthless game of survival, and Coriolanus navigated its treacherous waters with a cunning that both impressed and frightened Monica. She wondered if the boy she fell in love with still existed beneath the layers of Capitol manipulation.
Monica's clandestine efforts to aid the Snow family faced new challenges as her own family intensified their disapproval. The Crestwoods, deeply entrenched in the Capitol's social hierarchy, couldn't fathom Monica's association with the Snows, especially given Coriolanus's role in the Hunger Games.
Despite the mounting pressures, Monica refused to abandon her convictions. She continued to support Coriolanus from the shadows, offering subtle gestures of encouragement that went unnoticed amidst the chaos of the Capitol's festivities. Yet, as the Games progressed, Monica couldn't escape the nagging feeling that her actions were a mere whisper against the roaring tide of Capitol politics.
The turning point came when Lucy Gray emerged as a formidable contender in the Games. Coriolanus's mentorship had molded her into a captivating and unpredictable force, capturing the hearts of Capitol citizens and sponsors alike. Monica, torn between her love for Coriolanus and a growing admiration for Lucy Gray's resilience, found herself at a crossroads.
The Capitol's opulent façade crumbled as Monica confronted the harsh reality of the Hunger Games. The Games weren't just a spectacle; they were a cruel reminder of the Capitol's power and the sacrifices made in the name of entertainment. Monica's internal struggle mirrored the external chaos of the arena, and she couldn't shake the feeling that the Capitol was playing a dangerous game with the lives of its youth.
As the climax of the Games approached, Monica's resolve solidified. She would confront Coriolanus, not as a victim of the Capitol's machinations but as a woman who refused to be a pawn in their deadly game. The once-burgeoning love between Monica and Coriolanus would face its ultimate test, and the outcome would ripple through the corridors of the Capitol, challenging the very foundations of their society.
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The echoes of the Hunger Games had barely faded when the harsh reality of consequences descended upon Coriolanus Snow. The Capitol, unforgiving in its pursuit of perfection, discovered his illicit actions to save Lucy Gray. As the Capitol's judgment fell upon him, Coriolanus found himself stripped of privilege, his family disgraced, and his future hanging in the balance.
Monica, unaware of the extent of Coriolanus's transgressions, sought him out in the dimly lit corridors of the Academy. Her steps quickened as she approached him, her eyes revealing a mix of concern and determination.
"Coriolanus, we need to talk," Monica implored, her voice tinged with worry. "What's happening? Why are they punishing you?"
Coriolanus, his once-confident demeanor now replaced by a defeated slouch, sighed heavily. "Monica, it's over. The Capitol has no tolerance for failure.I cheated in the games. I've been assigned to be a Peacekeeper in a distant district."
Her eyes widened with disbelief. "No, there has to be something we can do. I'll talk to my parents, we'll find a way to fix this."
He shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Your parents won't help. They never believed in us. They saw me as a means to an end, a way to maintain their precious status. Now that I'm tainted, they'll wash their hands of me."
Monica's determination wavered as she reached out to touch his arm. "Coriolanus, we can face this together. I'll stand by you, no matter what. We'll find a way."
His icy gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was a flicker of gratitude. However, as the weight of his impending departure settled in, an unexpected venom seeped into his words. "Monica, let's not pretend. Our love was a convenience, a way for me to survive in the Capitol. I never loved you. It was always about the money, the stability you offered."
Monica recoiled, her eyes welling up with tears. "Coriolanus, how can you say that? We've been through so much together. I believed in us."
His tone turned cold, matching the frost in his eyes. "Belief won't change anything. I've found someone who truly understands me, who doesn't see me as a pawn in their game. Lucy Gray — she's the one I love."
Monica felt the ground crumble beneath her. "Lucy Gray? After everything we've been through, you're leaving me for her?"
Coriolanus, unmoved by her distress, continued, "I need to go where she is, I need to make sure she is alive. District 12, where Lucy is. It's time to embrace the reality of my feelings."
Monica, torn between disbelief and heartbreak, struggled to find words. As Coriolanus turned to walk away, the shattered pieces of their once-unbreakable bond lay scattered, lost in the harsh winds of change.
Monica, though battered by Coriolanus's cutting words, refused to let despair consume her. As he turned to leave, she reached out, her hand trembling, and gently caught hold of his arm. "Coriolanus, please," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
He turned his expression a mixture of regret and determination. But before he could speak, Monica stepped into his arms, wrapping herself around him in a tight embrace. "It's okay," she whispered into his ear, her voice steady despite the quiver in her heart. "If this is where you need to be, then I'll support you. I'll love you from here, even if it hurts."
Coriolanus, taken aback by the unexpected gesture, hesitated for a moment. The cold exterior he had crafted began to crack as he felt the warmth of Monica's embrace. His icy resolve wavered, and for a fleeting moment, he questioned the choices he was making.
Monica continued, her voice filled with sincerity, "I promise to take care of Tigers and Grandma'am. I'll make sure they remember you. And I'll do my best to bring you back home, to us."
Coriolanus, conflicted and haunted by unspoken emotions, simply hugged her back. The weight of his actions hung heavily between them, but in that moment, the familiarity of their connection pushed through the turmoil. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, a silent acknowledgment of the love that lingered beneath the surface.
Monica, her eyes closed against the pain, whispered, "Be safe, Coriolanus. Find your happiness. I'll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes."
As he reluctantly pulled away, their eyes met one last time. In that gaze, a complex tapestry of emotions unfolded — love, regret, and the unspoken truth that lingered between them. Coriolanus, unable to voice what his heart truly felt, simply nodded, acknowledging the sacrifice Monica was making for him.
With one last glance, he turned away, leaving Monica standing in the dimly lit corridor, a pillar of strength despite the ache in her heart. As Coriolanus ventured into the unknown, the memory of her unwavering support lingered, a beacon of hope in the shadows of uncertainty.
---- Time skip
The days that followed were a blur of anguish for Monica. The weight of Coriolanus's departure pressed heavily on her shoulders, but she refused to let it crush her spirit. Determination fueled her actions as she navigated the challenges of keeping her promise to him.
Monica faced the disapproval of her own family, who viewed Coriolanus's fall from grace as a stain on their reputation. Yet, she stood resolute, deflecting their judgment with a grace that belied the turmoil within her. Tigers and Grandma'am, Coriolanus's family, found solace in Monica's unwavering support, and together, they faced the whispers and sidelong glances of Capitol society.
In her quiet moments, Monica grappled with the truth Coriolanus had laid bare — that their love was not what she had believed it to be. The sting of his words lingered, a persistent ache in her heart. Yet, in the face of adversity, Monica discovered a strength within herself that she never knew existed.
As she navigated the intricacies of Capitol politics, Monica found herself drawn to the cause of the Districts, a stark contrast to the privileged life she had known. The injustice of the Hunger Games, the oppressive rule of the Capitol — it all became painfully clear to her. Determined to make a difference, Monica secretly aligned herself with those who sought change.
The Capitol's grip on her life loosened as Monica immersed herself in this clandestine world. She forged alliances with rebels, learning the art of subversion and rebellion. Monica, once the epitome of Capitol elegance, now moved in the shadows, a silent force working against the very system she was born into.
---
The dusty air of District 12 clung to Coriolanus as he navigated the unfamiliar streets, his steps heavy with the weight of his choices. Lucy Gray walked beside him, her presence offering a semblance of comfort in this strange, new world. Sejanus, their unlikely companion, observed the surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and unease.
In the dimly lit bar they entered, the crackling sound of an old television caught their attention. The screen flickered, revealing the unmistakable visage of Dr. Volumnia Gaul, the architect of Capitol cruelty, as she delivered a broadcast.
"As a reminder of the consequences of treachery," Dr. Gaul's voice echoed through the bar, "we present the traitor who dared defy the Capitol's authority."
The camera shifted, revealing a face both familiar and heart-wrenching. It was Monica, pale and beaten, her eyes hollow with despair. Coriolanus felt a sharp intake of breath as he stared at the small screen, unable to comprehend the depths of betrayal that had transpired.
Lucy Gray's hand found its way to his, gripping it in silent support. Sejanus, too, watched with a mix of horror and sympathy, realizing the impact of the Capitol's ruthlessness on those who dared question it.
Dr. Gaul continued, her voice devoid of remorse, "This traitor provided aid to the districts, undermining the Capitol's authority. Let this be a warning to all who dare to defy us."
Coriolanus, his heart heavy with guilt, could hardly bear to watch as Monica's beaten form became a pawn in the Capitol's ruthless game. The realization hit him with a force that eclipsed the power of any Games he had ever witnessed.
As the broadcast concluded, the bar fell into an uneasy silence. The trio exchanged glances, each grappling with the harsh truth of the Capitol's brutality. Coriolanus, torn between loyalty and self-preservation, felt a surge of conflicting emotions.
---- Big time skip
Years had passed since the traumatic events in District 12. The Capitol's grip on the districts had tightened, and Coriolanus Snow found himself entangled in the web of political intrigue and power struggles. The memories of Monica and the haunting broadcast had become a distant ache, buried beneath layers of duty and survival.
In the garden of the presidential mansion, where whispers of rebellion echoed in the rustling leaves, Coriolanus found himself in the unexpected company of Katniss Everdeen. The air hung heavy with the weight of unspoken truths as they discussed the Capitol's ruthless tactics, particularly the bombings that targeted innocent children.
As they exchanged somber words, Coriolanus couldn't help but notice a delicate necklace around Katniss's neck — a small, silver chain with a pendant that bore a striking resemblance to the one Monica used to wear. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't suppress the urgency in his voice as he asked, "Where did you get that necklace?"
Katniss, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, touched the pendant thoughtfully. "It was my grandma's. She gave it to me before she passed away."
Coriolanus, trying to conceal the turmoil within, couldn't shake the feeling that the necklace held a connection to Monica. He probed further, "Your grandma's? Did she ever mention where she got it?"
Katniss shook her head, her expression clouded with sadness. "No, she never said. It was just a simple keepsake she wanted me to have. Why do you ask?"
A sense of unease settled over Coriolanus as he grappled with the possibility that Monica might have suffered a fate worse than he could have imagined. He hesitated before speaking, "It just looks remarkably similar to one someone I knew used to wear. A dear friend from a long time ago."
Katniss studied him intently, her gaze penetrating the carefully constructed facade.
Coriolanus Snow, unable to shake the eerie similarity between Katniss's necklace and Monica's, took a deep breath before venturing further into the delicate topic. "Tell me more about your grandmother, Katniss. What was she like?"
Katniss's eyes softened with nostalgia as she spoke of her grandmother, a resilient woman who had endured the harsh realities of District 12. She shared stories of strength, survival, and the enduring spirit that had been passed down through generations.
Listening intently, Coriolanus couldn't help but feel a growing weight of recognition. The details Katniss provided about her grandmother painted a vivid picture, one that seemed to align with the Monica he once knew — the Monica who had disappeared without a trace.
As Katniss spoke, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Monica, like Coriolanus, had been cast into the unforgiving embrace of District 12 by her parents as a form of punishment. The once wealthy and privileged girl had found herself entwined in the gritty reality of the impoverished district.
Coriolanus, his heart pounding in his chest, felt a mix of emotions swirling within him. Monica had not only survived but had built a life in District 12 — a life that transcended the confines of her origins. The revelation brought a bittersweet sense of closure to the wounds of the past.
The necklace, once a symbol of loss, now carried the weight of a profound connection. Monica's legacy lived on in Katniss, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit even in the face of adversity.
A complex tapestry of emotions played across Coriolanus's face — relief, regret, and a tinge of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, he found a measure of solace in knowing that Monica had forged her own path, a path that led to the birth of a courageous young woman who stood before him.
As the conversation with Katniss unfolded, Coriolanus couldn't escape the realization that the Capitol's attempts to break them had instead given rise to something far more powerful — a legacy of strength and defiance that endured in the face of oppression.
The necklace, now an emblem of intertwined destinies, served as a silent reminder of the choices they had made and the paths they had walked. Coriolanus, standing on the precipice of history, found himself reevaluating his role in the unfolding drama of Panem. The shadows of Monica's disappearance, once haunting, now held the promise of a resilient spirit that refused to be extinguished.
malignant —- adjective. disposed to cause harm, suffering, or distress deliberately; feeling or showing ill will or hatred.
𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 -—- ♱
Coriolanus has a big jealousy problem, every time you talk to other men even the ones he knows, he gets jealous really fast, imagine mid-conversation with a stranger he pulls you and mutters an 'excuse me' as he drags you off.
Starts fighting with you that your cheating on him, calling you a slut and a whore for talking to men other than him. You just say that he's just a friend or someone you knew, and he wouldn't believe you, and drag you off to the washroom.
Coriolanus who really rough on you—when he's fucking you, grabbing your hair, and ripping you out of your dress. Just him hatefucking you, you're not even enjoying it just your screams falling death to his ears. The screams echo throughout the manor, even the maids and Butler hearing your useless pleas.
Coriolanus is cold, He wouldn't even care about your battered body, his hands gripping onto your waist, marking your body. Now, Coriolanus is never rough with you or hits you, but when he's jealous, he can't help it...you just have to brace for impact; His hands harshly gripping your chin, as he lowers his head towards, his blue eyes staring into yours, and tears couldn't help but to fall out from the induced pain you have been through. His cruel words come out of his mouth, calling you a slut or a whore. Your lips are bitten up, and tears dripping down from your cheeks.
If he's really mad at you it's face down, ass up. His hands smack the plush of your ass, as you scream his cock slipping in and out of you. His hands forcefully burying your face into the mattress, making you almost suffocate. He knew that you deserved the punishment, his wife couldn't be whoring herself around. He finishes himself inside of you, just for his cum dripping out of you mixing with your blood.
He might forgive you if just take it, but he'll never take his eyes off of you...ever
Coriolanus who needs an heir! Imagine if Coriolanus wants to have a baby, he would make it keen to you, though you didn't feel ready to have a copy of you and Coriolanus running around.
The many sacrifices you would have to make, and Coriolanus just doing the bare minimum...didn't sit right with you. Always saying no, or ignoring it, making him get angry by the second.
One day you were just tending to the manor, fixing your skirt, and then a rushing maid, came up to you with a scared expression on her face, her mouth muttering out words, "Coriolanus, want you at his office, my lady" she looks at you in fear, her body trembling. You nodded, walking down the empty manor, your heels stepping down on the delicate floors, leading to the desolate, ominous-feeling office awaiting your presence to him. Your hands on the golden handle, opening up the Roman panel doors.
With the click of the door, as you opened to Coriolanus already examining you,
You felt like prey to a predator. You didn't want to close the door, feeling an uneasy sensation in your stomach, closing the door. "You called," you remarked, You couldn't help but look away from him. You felt alarms going off in your head, your conscious warning you of what was going to come, and the next thing that happened, was your body on the bare floor, your dress hoisted up as Coriolanus thrust into you, tears staining your vision, "Your going to be a wonderful mother" his haunting words echoing in your head, during the assault.
Coriolanus abused your body with his touch, fucking himself into you and pumping his come right after, making sure you were going to pregnant with his heir. Even if it meant him tracking your cycle and knowing when you ovulate
Coriolanus who wants an heir so badly! making sure he throws out all of your birth control pills, making sure that his sacrifices don't go to waste, and that all your movements are being tracked by the staff and peacekeepers.
Coriolanus's plan worked! looking at your now round and big belly carry his children! He would be so delighted, though you always had a scared expression etched on your beautiful face when you saw him, especially when you delivered the news to him
But you would have never known what he did for this to happen, it wasn't for your pretty little head to think about, no?
That's right it wasn't for your head to think about at all!
✢ Hot Secretary
A/N: Thank you, guys, for 883 votes, I am so surprised how many votes were cast in the polls. Sorry for the fic taking so long, and also make sure to drink water. <3
WARNING: p in the v, unprotected sex, cheating, oral sex implied, creampie, affairs. [may be deemed as dark content]
PAIRING: President! Coriolanus Snow x secretary! reader
WORD COUNTER: 1.8k
+ TAGS: @wildcatglove13
Working for President Snow wasn't an easy task or job. You had to make sure that the president was on top of his tasks and ran errands for him, after all, he was running a country of Panem. A large population that needed dot be governed by someone with good skills and attributes such as President Snow.
It came with copious amounts of paperwork and documents that needed to be filled, checked, and printed. And aside from the tedious amount of labor, the pay checked out.
But lucky for you, you managed to land the job. It wasn't a brainer to impress your employer with someone of your talent and skill. You were currently sitting at your desk, your well-manicured nails typing down onto the keyboard, reading as you wrote.
Black letter filling out the blank white document in front of you. Along with exceptional skills, you also have the upper hand with your attractiveness, curvaceous silhouette, and beautiful face, though it is always stained with a serious expression. Your eyes were hidden underneath your Bayonetta glasses, reflecting the light of your computer. On top of it, you always wore a prim, proper white collar shirt, that was almost always 'too tight' holding your chest and wrapping perfectly over your stomach.
Leather pants that hugged your ass, and a stiletto on your feet. It was mostly the part that made him hire you, your looks.
Your hair was always perfectly styled and brushed. You were too busy typing away at the computer, the clicking of the keys ringing in your ears. Your beauty tends to seize Coriolanus' attention, his eyes focus on your meticulous form, if it wasn't your face, it was your bosom in your tight shirt. He would always see a strict expression on your face along with a cold demeanor, coming into his office, and delivering important documents with a monotone voice.
You would always catch him looking when you turned yourself around or picked up papers, his eyes getting a better look at your ass in your tight leather pants. You weren't dumb or too oblivious to take account of his actions, you simply disregarded them.
Simply minding your business as you made yourself busy. You worked for the Snows for about a few months now, knowing the marital problems faced by President Snow and the First Lady were hidden from the public. You learned and noted the habits of Mr.Snow cheating on the first lady, Livia Cardew. She knew as well too, but you only ignored it, it wasn't a surprise knowing that the whole marriage was arranged, but you couldn't help to have a little altruism when you overheard her crying.
But you minded your business walking away, the sounds of your heels clicking on the delicate tile floor. After all, it wasn't your job to know or advise... You were a secretary, not a therapist.
It was a regular day, clocking into the Snow's household, walking around and checking in the employees, with a clipboard in your hand, making note of certain things. Coriolanus from afar gazed at you, ignoring the wedding band on his finger, which he carelessly wore, examining at your body in the skirt you wore. The thoughts of temptation ran through his mind.
Hearing the sound of shoes on the floor, looking to the side, "Mr.President" You greeted formally, "L/N " he responded back, before stopping at your side, "Are there any updates?" He asked, "No, Sir" You looked up at him, before looking down at the clipboard. He leaned towards your ears, "I need you in my office" he whispered, and you nodded, your eyes flickering back at the emoplyees you were once speaking to. Before putting the clipboard between your arms, and following him.
Your heels clicked on the flooring as you walked into the office, standing near his desk, and you watched him close the door behind him, sitting down in front of you. "You called, Sir?" you questioned, "Yes, I did" He respond, "I just wanted to congratulate you— ..and your work here" he began talking, "Thank you, sir" you responded to the compliments nonchalantly.
"Y/N" he glance at your standing figure, "Yes, sir?" you answered,
"Do you have a significant other" he questioned, you felt your cheeks getting red at the personal question making Coriolanus chuckle from your antics. You cleared your throat, "No sir, why?"
He got up and circled around you, you watched.
"I was just wondering—the way you dressed seemed like you had someone you were waiting for" he mumbled, you pursed your lips.
Standing in the center of the office, before feeling his body leaning over your backside, feeling his hard-on on your ass. Parting your lips, you eyed as his hand covered yours, his breath tickling your ears.
"Did you think I wouldn't get distracted with you in that skirt" He whispered, he started grinding himself on your ass. "Sir-" you mumbled, his hands fondling your body, his teeth nipping your skin, slowly bending you over on the desk.
"President Snow-" you panted, feeling yourself getting wet underneath your clothing. His finger was dangerous getting closer to your panties, "Get on the desk" He said, before withdrawing, feeling the weight of him off your body. As you obeyed getting on top of the desk, your skirt hiking up your thighs. His hands splayed on your thighs, before pushing you down onto the desk, raising your legs up in the air.
You felt the weight of his eyes on your body, your ears ringing out the sounds of your tights tearing, revealing your damp panties. Before he yanked it off, the cool air of the office hit your cunt, a moan slipping out from your lips.
"President-" you whimpered, "Call me Coriolanus, dove" the sound of his belt unbuckling made you weak. You peek down at the bulge in his boxers. "Coriolanus, please" You mewl, "I didn't know the secretary was a little slut" He teased, rubbing the back of your thighs, pushing them against your chest. Before taking out his cock from his boxer, looking away from the lewd scene.
Slapping his cock on your pussylips, you whimpered. "Your fucking desperate aren't you" he laughed at your miserable display, your cheeks red, your hands on the backside of your thighs, raising your legs up into the air. He wanted to take a picture of your erotic display. He slid his cock into you, pushing himself deep into your pussy. You bent your back at the pain recoiling in your system. His cock stretches you open, biting your lip at the pain.
His hips smacked into yours, his cock massaging your inner walls, his animalistic pace, as his cock bullies itself into your cunt. God, the way you looked underneath him looked like it was straight from porno, it made Coriolanus smile at the sight.
A once serious and reserved women, crumbling under his touch.
Coriolanus fingers popping the buttons of your collar shirt, revealing your black bra underneath the light layer. His hands massaging your mounds, the very ones that tempt him underneath your tight collar shirt. Moaning from the single touch as he rubs your peaks harshly, forcing his cock into as he snapped his hips into you.
His hands gripping on your jaw, forcing you into a kiss. Feeling his tongue exploring your wet cavern, moaning against his assault.
Locking your legs around his waist, feeling yourself slipping into the pleasure. Your eyes heavy, the temperature of your body rising. Gripping your fingers on the edge of the wooden desk, feeling yourself coming undone. Your ears perking up at the groans slipping from his lips, his hands holding the sides of your stomach, snapping his hips into you.
"Wait—" you yelped, feeling him emptying himself inside you, the warm liquid painting your walls white. Before he pulled out of you, his cock coated mixed cum.
You cringe at the sticky sensation between your thighs, as his cum dripping from you. Looking between your legs at the sticky mess, "Fuck" Coriolanus muttered, his eyes flickering to your limp display as he tucked himself into his briefs. He smoothed out his hair, before throwing you a was of cash. "Buy some birth control pills, I don't want another one running around" he groans.
You weren't lying if you said you were shocked but only nodded to his words, and got up from the desk. The cum leaks out as you slip your panties on and your skirt. You wondered how many women he did that to, not just you, fixing up the buttons to your top and walking out of his office. Though days from the incident, you still worked and completed papers, still typing away on the screen in front of you, but time again it happened.
More times than he buried himself into you, fucking you on his desk or between his legs sucking on his cock with your plump lips.
He would leave little gifts on top of your desk, with expensive jewelry inside, with a letter from him. Opening a letter with your manicured nails with dainty words from him and faux promises inside, even if you were to accept his words, it wouldn't be possible because of his wife. Putting the letter face down and staring at the gift bag with the luxurious brand etch on it.
You plainly ignored it, going back to daily tasks. And time again when you went out with Coriolanus to satisfy his pleasure, it would be meeting at one of his expensive penthouses or a lavish hotel, it was the same thing, time and time again, with him on you and touching you in places a married man shouldn't do to other women. It wasn't a surprise being Coriolanus's little secretary and him screwing up during hours or after. The affair wasn't hidden from the employees inside the Snow's manor, and it wouldn't be a surprise that the First Lady knows it.
But more of a surprise if she confronts her husband about his infidelity.
Looking at the computer screen you typed away, your ears perking up at the sound of heels on the tile floors, the steps echoing and bouncing around the walls of the west side of the manor. Looking up at the sound, you weren't surprised by the appearance of the First Lady. "Mrs Snow " you greeted blankly. An expression of fear, anger, and disgust printed on her face, "Where is the president?" She asked holding her hands to herself, "He's in a meeting" You answered, the answer seemed like something she wasn't looking for.
"I'll tell him that you came to see him—"
"No..he isn't in a meeting is he?" you heard her voice getting louder and enraged at every word that came out of her lips, "The President doesn't like anyone knowing where he is, he enjoys his privacy" You answered her coolly,
"He probably fucking one of his whores—and you are one too, aren't you, Y/N" You finally stopped typing and lifted your eyes from the computer screen, "Like I said, Mrs Snow, the president like his privacy.." you fully looked at the teary women in front of you,
"-And I prefer not to tell you about mine—I'll tell him that you stopped by, Mrs. Snow" The sentence leaving your lips was the final nail of the coffin for her, as she broke down onto the floor, her wails echoing around the manor. You stared at her weepy form before you called maids to escort her away, you wouldn't lie to say you did feel bad for her.
But you are just Coriolanus's little secretary nothing else, not a counselor, or an advisor just a cumdump for him and only him.
You squeezed your thighs feeling his warm cum leaking out from you as you stared at the First Lady getting escorted in front of you.
only his cumdump...and nothing else
Hiya babes hope you’re doing well I’ve had this idea for a young Coriolanus Snow where he’s fresh into his presidency and runs into a maid in his room putting his clothes away. He thinks it’s just some avox but it turns out to be and old classmate (she was in the grade a year younger than but he’d seen her passing in the halls and she came from quite a respectable lineage). He becomes infatuated by her and why she’s working for him and not living some life of luxury, it becomes months worth of cat and mouse where Coryo tries to buy her love with gifts and she tries to stay strong. But finally she gives in and they start an affair (he isn’t married it’s just he wouldn’t want to be caught dead having a relationship with a servant girl). Normal he just tells her he wants to see her and that night they do an assortment of nefarious things, but one night he asked her to say instead of kicking her out like he usually does. She thrown off by this and after a little hesitancy she agrees.
So that’s all I really have feel free to make the rest up, but also don’t feel obligated to write about this it’s just something that’s come to my mind. I didn’t mean for this to be so long sorry. Love you loads hope you have the best of days and I hope you’ll find inspiration from this prompt. Okay kisses and hugs this is me signing off.
— Dirty little secret
WARNING: Unprotected sex, implied mudpie, fingering, implied affair, groping.
PAIRING: President!Coriolanus Snow x maid!reader
WORD COUNTER: 1.8k
Days for Coriolanus seemed to tick on longer than he bargained after getting elected and inaugurated to the office of Panem. Being the President of Panem wasn't a joke, nor did it have any time to just sit around, he was a busy man with a country behind him and leading the future of his people and generations. It was tiring for him, sometimes he would just accidentally sleep in his office rather than go to his bedroom. After piles of documents and papers were placed on his desk, finding more time to complete them if he locked himself away in his office.
On top of that, he had to make speeches and host future events. He just didn't have any time for self-pleasure with all the work on his desk, but he was dutiful and a studious worker. He did his usual routine after finalizing some paperwork and handing it off to his secretary to press. Dragging his feet against the delicate and pleasant tiles, tiredness drowned his vision, as he opened the door of his chamber spotting a dainty maid in his room. Your eyes widen at the sight of the President in front of you, immediately bowing down, before lifting your head slightly up. "Mr. President, I was just delivering your clothes" You curtsy at him, Coriolanus originally thought you were just an avox until you spoke, but now a mere maid hired by his secretary but once he got a glimpse of your face, a flash of simple memory ran through his mind. You started taking steps away from him trying to get away from the brewing tension, "Stop" You turned your body to him, looking at him with your full attention.
The sounds of the heel of his shoes on the bedroom flooring, feeling his soft hands on your jaw, slowly lifting your head up, taking in the scene of you. You held your breath as he simply inspected you, feeling your heart pumping against your chest. His azure eyes stared into your own, for a moment..before he withdrew his hands away from you. "You may go" he finished, you watched as he turned his body away from you before you scurried out of the bedroom.
But Coriolanus couldn't help but look back at you as you ran away, the sense of familiarity when he saw you was haunting his head. He pondered about it, putting his hand underneath his chin as he thought about you. The passing days were just Coriolanus watching you as you worked around the manor, his eyes never leaving your form. He managed to gather some information on you, by looking through your files, after all, he is the President of Panem it's his job to know everything, right?
His hands flipped through the dainty white pages, your headshot on the first page as he read through the private information, finding out that you were from Capitol blood, and ended up in the depths of middle class maybe even lower instead of luxury. Curiosity filled his mind about you, questions flowing through his mind with no answer to them. "What really are you..Y/N" he whispered under his breath, examining the photo of you. Most of these days were now mostly spent with him staring at you doing chores around the household, hanging up laundry, washing clothes, and cleaning the floors.
He likes how you laugh and smile when talking to your co-workers while you work. Every time he sees your smile, it makes some of his problems melt away, if he is stressed, he completely forgets what he was stressed about. He would purposely order you to his room to clean or arrange something in his office. Over a few months passing, he would continue asking for you, so adding little gifts and necklaces. For you, it was a surprise, certainly. Who expects the President of Panem to gift a simple maid a luxurious, expensive necklace, priced at a high price, more than you get paid. So you would send them off, at first you were confused thinking it was a mistake he sent the luxurious package to you, then it was sent back to you, this time a different gift, more beautiful and elegant. So you sent it back again, he began to be more curious and furious why you didn't keep and accept the gifts he sent, were they too ugly, an eyesore or indifferent to you.
So he orders you to his room...
It was the middle of the night, being pulled out of the servant quarters by the headmistress, ordering you to serve Coriolanus, and you obeyed. Your body is still engulfed in your flimsy nightgown and your flats on the floor of the manor, as you walk down the hallways. You opened the door to Coriolanus still in his attire, leaning on the bedframe. His eyes darted at you. "Mr. President, you requested of me" You held your hands together, looking him in the eyes. You hear his footsteps inching closer to you, his hands on his hips, "Do you hate them?" he asked, his eyes never leaving your frame, cocking your eyebrow, confused about what he was asking you.
"Hate, what, Sir?" you questioned, "The gifts" he walked closer to you, "Do you hate them, Y/N?" he looked at you, his eyes attentively staring at your own e/c. You felt sweat pending up on the palm of your hand as you began to clear your throat, "No—I just thought you sent them by mistake, sir" You said, you looked away from him, feeling flustered at how close he was to you. 'Y/n, do you think I'm an idiot to send something three things to the same person?" He gently lifted up your chin, making direct eye contact with you. "N-no, sir!" You exclaimed, "Then why, my sweet dove?' he questioned, "What have I done to deserve them" You mumbled,
"Every time I saw you, you have been pulling the strings to my heart..." He whispered, his deep voice resonating through your body, sending chills down your spine, you were hesitant to respond to him. The few moments of silence were unbearable, it felt like his eyes were tracking your every move. "Would it, not be improper for you to date a servant woman like me?" You murmur, and he immediately takes your face into his hands, "I will trade all of Panem just to have you in my arms" You parted your lips, staring at him in shock. Before he took your lips, kissing you. His hands touched against your skin, making you whine, his fingers slowly taking off the strings of your sheer nightgown. Immediately the cold air hits your bare skin making you moan, his hand trailing against your sides. He withdrew from your lips, his eyes clouded with lust, his pupils dilated. "W-we can't", looking away from him in embarrassment, trying to cover yourself up from his gaze.
He picked you up by your thighs, immediately putting your arms around his neck. He carried you towards the bed, dropping you onto the mattress, you instantly tried to cover yourself until he ripped your hands away as he stared at you beneath him. He took off your panties, slowly, his eyes staring at your slick coating your panties off, making you flustered. He started taking off his belt, you watched as he took his trousers off along with his boxers. His length springs out, pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock, feeling yourself getting wet underneath him. His eyes were heavy with lust, impatiently to have you, taste you, and fuck you.
He slowly inserts himself into you, a moan being ripped out of your throat, holding him by his biceps. "Itis' too big" you groaned. You tried to adjust yourself around his cock, you bit the bottom of your lip simmering the pain. Before he started moving, his pelvis smacked into your cunt as your breast bounced in impact.
You pushed your head back in pleasure as he forced himself into you, he groaned into your ear. "You're taking me so well, dove" he whispered, kissing your collarbone. The sound of wet skin clapping resonating around the bedroom, his hands moving around your body, rubbing the nipples of your breast, moaning in response. "Your so warm" he groaned, moving his hips against you, you felt yourself inching near your release.
He place your leg onto his shoulder, moving your body to the side as he thrusted inside, feeling his cock deeper inside you.
His hand groped your breast, abusing your nipples as he plunged into you deeper. Before feeling yourself coming undone, squeezing down on his cock. "Fuck" he groaned, pushing himself into you. His fingers trailing down onto your pelvis, he rubbed your clit, making you whine. Breathy moans echoed from your lips, and you looked through your lashes at him. Your walls massaging his cock, his thrust getting faster and into an animalistic pace.
His groans became frantic, as he fucked himself into you, before he pulled out and cummed onto your stomach, the white sticky load coating your body. Feeling your legs shaking, and your chest heaving. Staring at him, tiredness in your eyes.
"You did so good, dove," he said, kissing the corner of your neck.
Soon this moment happened time and time again, mostly during the nights when everyone was gone or sleeping away. He would call for you, knowing what would happen at the end of every night, you on his bed either coated with his cum or filled with it. Usually leaving before anyone can get suspicious of you and Coriolanus. Always wearing a nightgown, Coriolanus purchase for you. Looking into the mirror with the rich, satin fabric on your body, hugging your curves and bosom.
He would surprise you with special things mostly material things but you were grateful for them.
He would buy luxurious lingerie and jewelry for you. You were getting ready to meet Coriolanus as he called for you again, wearing the special red lingerie underneath nightgown, you obeyed. Walking down to his chambers, in the end, the precious lingerie was ripped and your nightgown on the floor stained with cum. His hands on your waist as he thrusted into you, he was close and you were already done and tired. His hands explored you, before he spilled himself into you. Pulling himself out of you, your legs were shaking, holding yourself up. Feeling him leaving a kiss on your cheek, he put himself into his pants.
You walked towards your discarded nightgown, taking ahold of the material, and slipping it on. There was a moment of silence between you and Coriolanus. Getting yourself busy, fixing the fabric of the nightgown, pulling it down carefully.
"Wait, Y/N" you turned around at him, "Yes, Corio" you responded, he loved it when you used that nickname with him, he walked forward to you, "Stay" he paused for a minute, "Stay with me for the night" He finishes, your eyes slightly widen. "What if, we were caught?" You whispered, "Nobody could come in without my permission, Y/N" he pushed a strand of your loose hair over your ear, "Just stay" he whispered, his hands trailing down to your waist, rubbing them in reassurance. You cleared your throat, putting your hands on his chest, and parting your lips.
"Alright—I will..."
favourite crime - coriolanus snow
coriolanus snow loves you… but when he learns that he’s being sent back to the capitol—well, he can’t have any loose ends left back in district 12.
dark possessive!coriolanus snow x district 12!reader
cw: 18+//dead dove do not eat!!!//snuff//mentions of loss of virginity//mentions of murder//coriolanus snow’s disgusting inner monologue//murder//strangulation//piv sex//mentions of guns
viewer discretion advised!! i do not condone any of these themes, this is merely a work of fiction
IB: @shellxrls
when you’d first laid eyes on private snow at the hob, you never would’ve thought you’d end the night with your lips wrapped around his cock. no, you were a good girl. you didn’t do things like that, and certainly not with strange men in darkened corners. but coriolanus was different. he made your core burn with desire, and your heart skip a beat every time his icy eyes flicked over you.
you spent many evenings with him—friday nights especially—legs spread, letting him touch you in ways you’d never known before. he liked that you had been a virgin; the thought of corrupting this stupid little district girl and turning her into his whore. you belonged to him now, and he’d have you whenever he pleased. you were nothing more than a hole to fill his desire with.
you were head over heels for him—so when he told you he’d been given a discharge to return to the capitol, he’d thought his pretty little doll would be delighted for him. you’d had fat tears streaming down your cheeks, mascara running—you’d worn it just for him, to look pretty—clutching at his arms and begging him to stay.
you couldn’t leave district 12, no. you didn’t belong in a place like the capitol.
the way you were begging was so pathetic; getting on your knees, weeping, voice strained with frustration. he couldn’t believe how he’d done this to a girl—lucy gray was never like this. when he’d left her for you she’d simply resigned herself to singing not-so-subtle tunes about how much of an asshole he was. well, at least before he killed her.
you were different. you were his little doll. his and his only. that’s why you had to return to the capitol with him—he’d have packed you into his bag if there had been enough room. it was a shame they didn’t allow for pretty whores to travel with the peacekeepers.
‘please, coryo,’ you cried out, hands clutching at his trousers. ‘don’t leave me, i- i love you!’
your attempts at flattery were ridiculous, but in a way he knew that you did love him. he didn’t love you, exactly. he loved knowing that he possessed you, that your heart entirely belonged to him. but he could never love a whore from the districts—especially not 12 at that.
‘is my bunny sad that i’ll be going home?’ he cooed, clutching your chin with his large hand. you were so small. he could break you if he wanted to…
‘mhm. gonna miss you so bad, coryo,’ you gazed up at him with wide-eyes—they looked so innocent as they glistened with the tears of your upset.
‘gonna miss your cock, and your tongue…’ you sighed wistfully. ‘gonna miss riding you and having you fuck me full of your cum.’
your lips are turned into a pretty pout, and he wonders then and there whether or not he should get his cock out and shove it past them. make you drink up his seed one last time. or perhaps he could bend you over his bunk and put a baby in you—then you’d always have something to remember him by.
no—that would make you a loose end. and he can’t have loose ends. you can’t know that he shot the mayor’s daughter because she pissed him off too much—or that his songbird, lucy gray, now lay somewhere at the bottom of the lake by the cabin.
he decides he can spend one last night with his little bunny. just one night. but then he’s clearing up loose ends. you’d never assume what he had been planning, no, you’re far too dumb to understand that. you see the good in everyone; and that made his chest burn with fury. how could you be so fucking innocent?
‘bunny…’ his voice trailed off. you nod, awaiting him to tell you something, anything—did he love you too?
‘i’ve got an idea. one last special night, just the two of us, hm? down at that cabin by the lake,’ he stroked your cheek. how sweet you looked like this, all red in the face. ‘i’ll give you a night worth remembering. let you sit on my face.’
you gave him an eager smile, and he knew his little bunny was just too stupid to know she was falling into his trap.
—
this was where he’d killed lucy gray, too. that had been a cold, rainy day. just like this one. you’d been so easy to lure into his trap; meeting him by the hanging tree in your prettiest dress—one with tiny pink flowers that came just above the knee. you’d even tucked a flower behind your ear. how sweet.
you couldn’t wait to spend your last night with coryo. you’d been singing all day, and practically skipped to meet him with a little bag full of some food and your toothbrush. you’d flung yourself into his arms, not caring about the consequences of being caught with a peacekeeper. he’d be gone by tomorrow morning anyways.
the walk to the cabin had tired you out considerably, and so you clung to coryo like a pathetic little bunny, letting him lead the way. you’d miss clutching his biceps, feeling the taut muscle beneath his shirt, the way his dog tags slapped against your face as he pounded your cunt raw.
he delighted in the way he’d get to have you one last time, tonight. that at some point, the only thing warm in your body would be his cum, leaking out of that tight cunt of yours. even though you were stupid, he did have to admit that your willingness was something he adored. the way he could just fill you up at any time, and in any hole—you never complained.
he’d corrupted you, watched you bleed as his big cock stretched you out that first time. he loved the way your eyes swelled up with tears and you begged him to stop—‘it hurts, coryo!’ you had clawed your nails into his back. ‘too big!’—but he didn’t stop. he knew you had to learn to take it, and that you did. you had such low self-esteem, you would practically grovel at his feet everytime you so much as made him frown. you’d do anything for him, and that was the way he liked it.
complete control.
the cabin was warmer than the tender breeze outside, and you were so grateful to get in there, shivering in your little dress. coryo had dressed more appropriately, in his day clothes, and he watched as you shivered. god, you were so helpless.
he set his things down, and when you had laid down on the bed to rest your eyes for a while, bundled up in the ratty old blanket, he checked under the floorboards. there it was—one last gun, wrapped in a green cloth. if you tried to run, he’d use it on you. he’d deliberated over which way to kill you, which way wouldn’t damage that pretty little face of yours.
he thought that one simple shot to the chest would do it—it would be instant too. but he wanted to watch the life drain out of you, watch as you whined and begged for him to save you. watch how your brows would furrow and your eyes would grow wide with fear and realisation that you were just another loose end to him. he’d never loved you. he’d loved the control.
but coriolanus had also debated choking you out—maybe he wouldn’t remove his cock from your throat while he fucked it, and pinch the tip of your nose so you’d stop breathing. how pretty you’d look, trying to take his cock and at the same time, fight for your life. he’d shoot his hot load down your dead little throat once you’d stopped breathing. a reminder that you were his, and no one else’s.
no, he couldn’t let you live.
he shut the floorboards when he heard you stirring—you must’ve fallen asleep. how sweet. in a few hours you’d go to sleep one last time—but it would be an eternal slumber. he wanted nothing more than to bring you back to the capitol and make you his little whore—you couldn’t be his wife; think of the shame and embarrassment that would bring. but you could be at his every beck and call, be there to relieve any tension he had. it was just so unfortunate that he wasn’t allowed.
he’d put your body to rest with lucy gray’s, down in the lake to let your pearly white bones be the fishes’ dinner. he couldn’t bury you out in the woods; they’d find you there, one way or another. instead, he’d let them think you’d just disappeared. people disappeared out in the districts all the time. especially stupid little girls. who would care if a pathetic runt who took peacekeeper cock vanished? he doubted you had many friends, and your parents were both dead.
you wouldn’t be missed.
it was some time later that you woke, and your stomach grumbled. coriolanus was sitting in the rickety old armchair, carving what looked to be a spear with his pocketknife. you watched his muscular arms move back and forth as he stripped the stick of its bark. something about his strength made your thighs burn.
you got up, bare feet cold against the wooden floorboards, and peered into your bag. you’d made enough food for the evening; you had even splurged and gotten yourself a precious block of cheese. you figured it was only appropriate, what with it being your last night together and all.
he looked up from his makeshift weapon—though it wasn’t all that, really—and gave you an award-winning smile. your heart leapt at his sweetness. you couldn’t believe he wanted to spend one last night with you.
‘you’re so pretty, bunny,’ he remarked, watching as you laid out the food.
there was bread, a few flimsy butter knifes—you’d not be able to defend yourself with those; besides you were just so weak. you’d even snuck a bottle of wine at the market when the peacekeepers weren’t looking. you wanted it to be special, to send him off happy and thinking of you.
your chest twinged with a heavy sadness. you wished you could go with him, follow him to the capitol and maybe, stupidly, marry him. you wanted to be his forever. you’d give him lots of children and they’d have white-blonde hair and icy blue eyes. you’d make sure he was satisfied every day, and cook and clean and whatever he required of you.
but you were to remain here, in district 12. marry a man covered in coal who worked himself to the bone in the mines. have skinny little babies who starved from the lack of food, struggle tooth and claw just to put dinner on the table every night. your time with coriolanus had been your only taste of luxury, of richness. he’d told you how in the capitol, there were buildings that reached the sky, and that every night people would feast on the finest food from the districts. you were reminded, with your own hunger pangs, the sacrifice that you had to make.
no, you’d never be good enough for him. future president of panem.
‘coryo, come eat,’ you said, standing proudly beside your food which you’d laid out neatly on the table.
he obliged—he was hungry, after all. he’d not eaten since last night. the food looked tolerable too, and the bottle of wine tempted him to be more considerate. just so his little bunny wouldn’t be suspicious. he doubted you were clever enough to figure out his intentions anyways.
‘i hope you like it,’ you remarked meekly, sitting down beside him and beginning to devour the food.
he opened the bottle of wine, and although it was completely uncivilised, he took a large swig. it was terribly sour, not like the good stuff they had in the capitol. he reckoned you’d never even tasted real wine. how pathetic.
‘how lucky did i get, with my little bunny,’ he smiled, stroking your head fondly.
‘i’m the lucky one,’ you said in your saccharine tone. he wanted to roll his eyes—you were so sickeningly sweet. ‘you’ve been so good to me, coryo.’
‘yeah?’ he asked. he liked how much you sought to stroke his ego. it made his cock hard the way you were just so utterly desperate to please him in every manner.
‘mhm,’ you said, chewing on a piece of bread. the cheese made it taste so delicious; sweet and creamy.
‘does bunny like the way i always give her whatever she wants? fill her up with my cum just like she asks?’ he watched as your cheeks burned red with abashed shame.
‘coryo…’ you whined, pressing your thighs together.
he loved the way you were already squirming, just from the mention of being fucked. what a fucking slut. he bet you had soaked through your panties, just waiting from him to bury his cock deep inside you as you whined for him to go harder. he’d show you harder. perhaps he’d wrap his big hands around your tiny, little neck, and squeeze too hard. god, you’d look so pretty with the air sucked out of your lungs, gasping and panting as he filled you up one last time.
‘oh bunny, don’t tell me you’re wet already?’ he cooed, standing up from his chair.
whatever, he didn’t really need to eat anyways. he couldn’t possibly be hungry when he’d been feeding himself with the own sick ideas in his head. food could wait—he’d need to tend to his little bunny first.
you nodded dumbly, clenching your thighs as the slickness pooled in your panties. you couldn’t help it, it was your last night with coryo. you wanted him more than anything else, more than you ever had done before.
‘p-please,’ you whimpered pathetically.
‘does bunny want me to fuck her? make her cum?’ he laughed, stroking your smooth arm. you were so warm. so full of life.
‘mhm, yes,’ you moaned, slipping one hand between your thighs to rub at your aching clit.
seeing this, coriolanus yanked your hair, causing you to gasp and sputter. how dare you touch yourself? you were his! his to have and do as he pleased with! you felt a few tears spring to your eyes, and he laughed, seeing how stupid you looked, weeping because he pulled your hair. he wondered how much you’d cry when he squeezed at your airways; watching them constrict between his big hands.
‘you know my rules, bunny,’ he clucked his tongue in disapproval. you glanced up at him, his icy eyes singed with coolness.
‘i’m sorry, sir,’ you replied. that name made his cock stir. he couldn’t keep himself from devouring you for much longer.
he dragged you from the chair and shoved you down against the bed. you were giggling and gasping like a little fool—it made his blood boil. you wouldn’t be laughing when your heart pumped with its last beat and your legs went still.
‘be a good girl, bunny,’ he commanded, trapping one leg between your thighs to stop you from grinding against the mattress.
you watched as he unbuckled his pants—he was never one for dawdling, preferring to get straight to the point—and eyed his bulge hungrily. you wanted to use your mouth on him, feel him stretch your lips out and fuck your throat as you gagged on his length. you’d miss how big he was—so big that you often ached for days after he fucked you.
he cupped your chin in his hand again, and pressed a kiss to the corner of your jaw. he had no intention of being gentle with you, this final time. you were merely his to use for pleasure. a little fuckdoll to fill up with his cum.
you moaned as he pulled his boxers down and his cock sprang free. you would never get used to the sight of it—the huge, throbbing thing. you couldn’t wait to have him bury it inside of you, feeling it nudge against your most sensitive spots.
‘need you, coryo,’ you panted. ‘need you in me.’
you pulled your panties off, feeling your own slickness pressing at your inner thighs. coriolanus grabbed the base of his cock with one hand, and pushed you down against the bed with the other. he wanted to take you like this, so he could watch the life drain out of your eyes, one last time.
‘gonna fuck you so good, bunny,’ he mused, hiking your dress up and sighing at the sight of your wet cunt. he would miss it, he did have to admit. what a shame it wouldn’t get wet for him anymore in a few hours. but if he couldn’t have you, nobody could.
‘mhm,’ you gasped as he pressed the tip of his cock at your sopping entrance.
god, you were so pathetic. so wet for him, so fucking desperate for his cock. he knew you probably wouldn’t have even let anyone have you, after he left. but he couldn’t bear the thought that somebody could take advantage of you, coax you into their bed and let them bury their cock in you. no, your cunt was his only. nobody else could dare touch his bunny.
he groaned as he pushed himself all the way in, feeling your walls stretch around him. you were still so tight, even after all the abuse to your hole with his big cock, the way he stretched you out, you were still tight as the first time he’d had you. you didn’t complain as much anymore though, not like you had that first time—weeping for days after with the dull ache of being fucked.
coriolanus began to thrust, grabbing your hips with firm hands, bucking into you with lusty vigour. your tits bounced in your dress, and you couldn’t help but gasp and mewl each time his cock bucked into your tight hole. his cock throbbed, feeling you clench around him, the way you sucked him in with your slick want.
he’d never forget this night. the last time he’d have you. the way you were so utterly perfect.
‘taking me so well,’ he grunted, watching as you moaned at the pleasant feeling of his big cock burying itself deep inside you, brushing against your cervix.
‘harder,’ you gasped, clutching at the sheets. you wanted to know you were his.
coriolanus couldn’t resist this, of course. he wrapped your legs around his waist, and plunged himself deeper into you. his balls were slapping against your perineum now, and the cabin filled with the reverberation of skin against skin.
you kept gasping and begging as he drove himself into you. you could feel yourself edging closer—you’d been so wet the whole way here, you were soaking at the thought of him having you one last time.
it was beginning to piss him off, though, the way you were being so loud. normally, he loved it, your moans letting everybody know how well he was fucking you, branding you as his own with his cum. he wondered what you’d do if he choked you right now—would you attempt to run? if you did, he’d get that rifle and shoot you. he couldn’t risk having you running about district 12 when somebody else could get their hands on you.
no more loose ends, he reminded himself.
he reached his free hand out, caressing your cheek, and then trailing them down to your neck. you giggled as he wrapped his fingers around your neck—it was so little that his whole hand could fit you inside of it. he’d choked you before, and so you didn’t assume anything of it. he pressed lightly, and you let out a sigh, body humming with want.
‘good girl,’ he mused, pounding you with his cock at the same time.
you let out a pretty moan, pussy clenching just right around him; he couldn’t help but grunt at how pleasant it was. you’d probably still be tight for a few hours after he kills you. maybe he’d fuck you again, but you wouldn’t be warm, or wet. just cold. he decided against it. he’d fill you up with his cum just as the life drained out of your eyes.
he pressed harder, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. it hurts, and you glance up at him with a worried look, eyes stretching wide. he doesn’t pay heed to this, and merely keeps thrusting, moving your hips closer to his to hit at a new angle.
he saw your breathing go rapid, and your eyes dart about the room in panic. poor bunny. he really didn’t want to have to kill you, but you can’t be his forever, and how can he accept that? if you’re dead, you’re nobody’s but his. especially since he’ll fuck his cum deep into your stiffening body; you’ll have part of him in you forever.
he could hear the sounds of your vocal chords straining as he clasped tighter at your throat. it would be a shame that you’d be left with a rosy imprint of his fingers around your neck, but it made him smile a little, that you’d be branded with his mark until you rotted.
‘coryo!’ you whimpered, clawing at his chest.
‘shhh, be quiet, bunny. take my cock like a good girl,’ he murmured, slamming into you.
it hurt—the way he was crushing your neck, your tendons beginning to strain around his touch. it felt like there was no air left in the world; you were beginning to grow tired, your breaths haggard.
‘p-please,’ you felt tears spring to your eyes, and watched as he laughed, a maniacal grin creeping across his lips.
he shook his head, grunting as your walls contracted around his cock. he was so close, but you were being a bitch and taking too long to die. he clamped down on you harder, causing a gasp to escape your lips. you couldn’t speak—your hands were clawing about desperately, legs flailing about.
you were terrified—what was he doing?! why did he want to hurt you? just minutes ago he was telling you how much he wished you could come back to the capitol with him and be his wife. he wanted to dress you up like a pretty doll and make you grow fat with his children.
‘don’t cry, bunny,’ he laughed, watching as your legs stilled.
you were so tired. it felt like there was no blood in your legs; they grew stiff and numb. your head spun.
‘you’re all mine bunny, forever,’ he smiled as your body grew limp.
you were terrified—eyes beginning to lose their shine, lips trembling with fear. you couldn’t feel your arms now, or the way he was bucking into you. his thrusts were slower now—he was close. watching the life drain out of you made his blood course through his veins with a delicious speed.
you mouthed out a ‘why’ as your body went completely frail. in one last act of betrayal, your cunt gushed around him as he squeezed your neck; airways completely constricted. your lips were beginning to blue now, and he frowned—he had really liked how plump and red they were as you sucked him off.
coriolanus felt himself finish; cock shooting thick loads into your still-wet cunt. he couldn’t help but grunt as he spurted himself into your pretty hole. the way you’d finished just as your heart had stopped beating and your airways had given out. your final breath wasted on cumming. you really were a whore.
he ran his hands over your body, frowning at the ugly ring around your neck. at least he didn’t have to deal with your blood. that would’ve been so fucking messy. having to mop it up, and the way you would’ve screamed. at least you couldn’t scream when his hand was clamped around your neck.
when he pulled out, he watched with sick delight as his cum spilled out of your pussy. the thick, pearly loads trickled down your thighs. your limbs would be pliable and floppy for another two hours, but he couldn’t bring himself to fuck you again. that was too far, even for him.
he looked at your face, which was stretched into one of fear. your eyes were still, but wet with the tears. so were your cheeks—they still retained that innocent rosiness which he so loved.
he wished lucy gray had looked so pretty when he’d killed her. she’d screamed when his bullet pierced her chest cavity, and she’d bled all over his jeans as he’d held her. you were so docile, even in death. you’d given him one last thank you when you’d came, and he knew you’d be his forever.
darling, dearest, dead. the words rang clear in his head. he’d read them in an old novel. they were fittingly appropriate for the situation. it was so sad that he had to kill you, but it was a bitter and necessary pill to swallow. he had to return home to the capitol, marry that bitch livia cardew, and set his sights on what mattered most.
you were just a little doll he’d had his fun with on his summer vacation—you were just a poor district girl. what did you matter? nobody would miss you, and when he became president, nobody would know that he’d watched the life drain out of three pathetic girls.
that would be terrible for his image. he did what needed to be done. his pretty bunny would be his forever, and he’d secure his place in the world.
no more loose ends.
NDA | Coriolanus Snow
When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.
Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.
She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.
As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.
She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.
“So what do you think sets you apart from the other applicants?”
You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.
This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?
Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.
Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.
So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.
It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.
Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.
“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.
But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.
“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”
An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.
Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.
“You’re dismissed,” she says.
Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.
You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.
You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.
Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body.
The sudden collision threatens your balance.
Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.
As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.
“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.
As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.
You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you.
Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.
The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.
A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.
“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.
“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”
Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.
“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”
“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.
You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.
You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.
Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow.
“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.
Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”
As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.
Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.
“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”
He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”
He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.
“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”
His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his.
Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares.
As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it.
When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.
Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.
Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.
“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.
“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.
You close the cabinet and beam at him.
“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.
It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.
You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.
“It’s fine.”
You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.
“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”
He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes.
“Stop it.”
You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.
“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.
His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”
You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.
“Laertes…”
He shakes his head, his expression firm.
“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”
Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.
You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals.
Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.
You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.
“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.
He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.
“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.
“How did it go?”
“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”
The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.
Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.
“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”
Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”
“Okay.”
His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.
He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.
“Finish your plate before going to your room.”
Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.
“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.
“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.
He gathers his books and strides towards his room.
Your voice rises.
“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”
“I…love you too,” he mumbles.
You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.
The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.
You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.
To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips.
“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”
The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.
“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”
Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.
“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”
“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”
He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste.
Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?
You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.
These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox.
Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.
You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up.
You take a deep slow breath before reading it again.
This time, a squeal escapes from your lips.
You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies.
After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true.
Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly.
You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling.
Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job.
Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.
You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.
Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.
A weary sigh ripples behind you.
You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.
“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”
“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”
She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.
“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”
She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.
She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.
“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval.
You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.
“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”
He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that.
You turn to Pandora.
“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”
Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”
“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”
Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.
“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”
You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.
“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”
“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”
“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”
A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.
“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”
You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.
You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.
She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.
She was a fairytale princess come to life.
Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.
Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.
She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire.
But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.
The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.
You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.
“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”
Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.
“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”
As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.
Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.
You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.
Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.
It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other.
“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features.
“And why is that?”
“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”
You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.
But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.
Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading.
“You’re leaving again?”
You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day.
You hunker down to his level.
“My little brother’s expecting me.”
His forehead puckers. “Stay…”
“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”
“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.
“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face.
You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.
As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.
Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.
Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.
But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it.
Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.
Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.
Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it.
The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze.
President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.
Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before.
The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.
A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.
Your heart slams against your ribcage.
You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked.
Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.
You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door.
Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs. The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back.
No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.
…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind.
You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.
But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain.
You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.
You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery.
“Yes?”
“The president wants to see you in his office.”
Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.
“Really, why?”
“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”
Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”
Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”
A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”
Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked.
You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.
A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately.
His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.
“Are you settling in well?” he asks.
“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”
“I hear my son is very fond of you.”
You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”
He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.
“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.
Your head rises. “What’s strange?”
“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”
Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”
“No fiancé?”
“No, sir.”
“A lover then?”
Warmth rushes to your face.
“No…”
He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.
“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”
A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”
“But…”
Your mouth dries.
“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”
His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”
Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud.
“I know, I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”
He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement.
“Really? What happened then?”
His gaze locks with yours.
“I grew up.”
Confused, you frown.
“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”
Another laugh bursts from his chest.
“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”
He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you.
“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”
“I…yes.”
Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways.
He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.
“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yes you are, sir.”
He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.
Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”
His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.
“Liar,” he mumbles.
Your pulse quickens.
He leans back and nudges your chin upward.
“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”
President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.
“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.
He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.
The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.
“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.
Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.
Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds.
Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.
“Please, President Snow, s-stop…”
“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.
Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.
You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.
Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves.
“P-President…”
He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.
Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.
Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest.
When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.
There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt.
He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.
When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.
“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.
Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.
“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.
His teeth nip the skin of your neck.
“...But I do.”
After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.
Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.
Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.
More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.
As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.
You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.
But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.
You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.
Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.
Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.
You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.
“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.
Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.
You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.
“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”
The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.
“You’re not my mom.”
A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.
“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.
He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.
You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?
“Martius-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.
“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”
Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.
“First Lady, I never meant-”
Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.
Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.
You shiver, waiting still.
But it doesn’t come.
“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”
The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open.
You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle.
“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”
The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.
Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.
“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.
The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs.
“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”
You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.
“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.
Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.
“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”
A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.
The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.
“This is for the president,” you announce.
She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”
You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.
All of it feels wrong.
And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.
You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?
“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”
Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.
“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”
You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”
“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”
Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.
How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.
The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.
You toss a questioning look at the driver.
But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.
You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.
Peacekeepers.
Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.
They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.
The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.
Your fearful gaze rises to him.
He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.
“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”
You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”
He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.
“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”
The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.
“Sir…”
His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.
“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him.
Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.
“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”
Chills dance over your spine.
“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.
He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.
But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.
“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears.
He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.
“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”
first post 🎀 nsfw 18+ skip if uncomfortable !!
President!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader
Coriolanus Snow, the infamous President of Panem, found himself alone in the Capitol's vast library. The dim lighting cast an ethereal glow over his surroundings, adding an air of intimacy to the usually austere environment.
" I shouldn't be here," he mused aloud, his deep voice echoing through the shelves. Yet here he was, unable to shake off the thought of you - the woman who had captured his heart and mind like no other.
You were unlike any other woman Coriolanus had met - fierce and fearless, with a wit as sharp as your tongue. Your laughter was contagious, and your eyes held a sparkle that set him on fire every time they met.
As he paced through the aisles, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, fighting against the desire coursing through him. He couldn't deny it any longer; he needed you, craved you, wanted nothing more than to feel your body pressed against his.
With a growl of frustration, President Snow made his way towards the secluded section of the library where he knew you often retreated during your visits to the Capitol. The scent of your favorite lavender-scented candles wafted through the air, guiding him towards you.
" You " he breathed out, his heart hammering against his chest as he finally laid eyes on you. You were curled up on a plush armchair, lost in a book, unaware of his presence.
Coriolanus slowly approached, stepping closer to you until he was directly in front of you. Without breaking your gaze, he extended his hand invitingly, his voice low and seductive. " May I? " May I join you? " You glance up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite the political tension between you, there's an undeniable spark between you two that refuses to be ignored
" Of course " you replied, setting your book aside on the table next to you. As you shifted slightly, your skirt hitched up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of lace-trimmed black lingerie beneath.
Coriolanus couldn't resist reaching out to touch you, running his fingers lightly down your arm. " You look so radiant " he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
" President Snow " you purred, leaning into his touch. Your eyes locked onto his, a silent invitation passing between you.
The tension between you two was palpable as Coriolanus stepped closer, his body brushing against yours. His hand trailed up your thigh, tracing the delicate lace of your undergarment. " I've been thinking about this moment for far too long "
You breathed out softly, your heart racing as his fingers teased against your sensitive skin. " And what have you been thinking? " you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Coriolanus' lips curved into a devilish grin as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck. " I've been thinking about what it would be like to taste you " he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh.
Your heart raced as his fingers skimmed ever closer to your core. " Coriolanus " you gasped out, your body shivering in anticipation. " Yes? " He paused, his fingertips lingering on the edge of your undergarment.
With one final, teasing swipe, he pushed aside the lace and exposed you to his touch. His warm breath fanned across your sensitive folds, sending shivers down your spine. " I want to taste you " he confirmed, his voice low and husky.
" Then taste " you breathed out, arching your hips up towards him. His tongue darted out and licked gently against you, teasing and exploring every inch of your sensitive skin.
You moaned softly, your body trembling with anticipation. You wanted more, needed more, as his tongue danced across your sensitive skin. " More " you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.
With a groan of desire, Coriolanus plunged deeper into the wet heat between your legs. His tongue delved inside you, exploring every curve and tight spot with precision.
You cried out, gasping as his tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips began to rock rhythmically against his mouth, seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.
Encouraged by your reactions, Coriolanus pushed further inside you, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers to fill you completely. He moaned around you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.
You whimpered, lost in the sensation of his fingers and tongue working in tandem inside you. Your entire being seemed to focus on the exquisite pleasure coursing through you.
" Coriolanus " you cried out, your voice breaking. You could feel the approaching climax building deep within you, threatening to break free.
" Let go " he growled against your skin, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you still for his pleasure. You did as he commanded, your body shuddering as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.
" Coriolanus " you moaned, your voice still weak with pleasure. You felt him grow hard against your leg, and you knew what he wanted. " Yes " you breathed as he finally gave into his desire, sliding slowly into you. " Yes "
" Fuck " he groaned, his hips bucking forward as he buried himself inside you. You arched your back, meeting his every thrust with equal passion. " So Good " he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly.
You moaned in agreement, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensations. You could feel him growing larger inside you, stretching you to new depths. " Harder " you begged, needing more of his strength to drive you over the edge once more.
With a growl, he complied, his powerful strokes claiming your body as his own. The bed beneath you creaked under the force of their lovemaking. Your cries of pleasure echoed through the room, fueling his lust even further.
Coriolanus's fingers dug deeper into your skin, leaving trails of pleasure-pain as he found your sweet spot again and again. Your body felt like it was on fire, consumed by desire for him.
" I want to feel you come apart again " he groaned against your ear, his thrusts erratic with need. Your core clenched around his length, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your back arched in pleasure, your cries echoing through the room.
With one last, powerful thrust, Coriolanus slammed into you, filling you up completely. Your entire body shuddered with the force of your orgasm, clenching around him with unending pleasure.
I dare you to do the darkest, dirtiest, most disturbing shit with Coriolanus peacekeeper
⤑ GRIM REAPER
A/N: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE! UGHH, I love possessive coriolanus, he is so sexy when he has authority, man I love him.
WARNING: p in the v, non to dub-con, love bombing, gaslighting, fear, hitting, kidnapping, coercion, hair pulling, bondage, forced mudpie, oral sex (male receiving), jealousy, cum eating. *** coriolanus being possessive and obsessive.
PAIRING: Peacekeeper!coriolanus x district!reader
WORD COUNTER: 2.5k
Born into the district—born into a life of hardships and pain...you were luckily born to two parents, and though you weren't financially stable you managed to enjoy a happy with your family. You had 3 siblings you had to look after, and whenever your parents went off to work, life was stressful but every time you got to see their faces smiling you were also satisfied.
When you got older you got a part-time job, at the vendor selling food, it was owned by an old couple who graciously gave you the job, though it wasn't a lot of money you took to support your parents. They asked to take a shift that was deeper into the night, so you accepted the offer, needing the money. Holding yourself up at the cart, waiting as you called out for customers, feeling yourself getting tired as the second. Stretching your arms out, as you looked further into the night. The night there were more Peacekeepers out, inspecting the district, it slightly made you feel apprehensive at the armed men walking through the area.
Your eyes hesitantly look and watch their movements, brushing the dust off your aprons, fixing your hair as your hair stuck to your neck from the humid air. Hearing footsteps inching near you, as you looked up...you felt your heart dropping in automatic dread, at the blonde Peacekeeper in front of you. You cleared your throat before speaking up to him, "Could I interest you, Sir?" you asked, your voice quivering as you spoke just to keep a positive tone. You felt his eyes raking you. He nodded, "I'll have that" He pointed, as you nodded. His eyes looked at you as you wrapped it up, "Have I seen you before?" He questioned, you looked up at him, "I don't think so..." You smiled at him, as you quickly boxed it up. "Enjoy, Sir" You put your hand out gesturing for him to take the box, "Thank you," He said, taking the box from your hand, and you felt his rough hands against yours.
You watched as he took his leave...you finally got to breathe, releasing the pending oxygen in your lungs and exhaling through your nose.
From the simple exchange, Coriolanus found himself visiting you at your vendor stall. Though, your introverted nature, you reluctantly started talking to him. You told him little things about your life, but he was smart enough to connect the puzzle pieces that you told him and connect it back to your life. He found your coquettish antics cute...and after your shifts you found yourself spending time with him, and often the districts were hot and humid, spending time by the lakes.
His sky-blue eyes took the appearance of your disheveled form, but he found you still captivating—from your dress strap falling to your shoulder and your light dress sticking against your wet skin. He wanted to take a picture of you to save the memory...but Time after time, he found himself getting slowly addicted to you...his visits got frequent, and he would deliver little gifts or care packages to you such as medicine, food, or water. You were grateful for him doing this, but you didn't want to feel like a burden to him, at first you were hesitant to take the gifts but he would ensure that it was a gift for you.
You didn't think about the kind gestures he would do for you, but you would always thank him for what he did. Soon, his obsession with you was like a disease, it kept on spreading and spreading over time, every time he closed his eyes, it would be just you, even when he worked on his daily tasks, his mind would be infected with pictures of you. He would always prefer to be stationed somewhere near you, he would be observing you as you worked, he hated when you talked to other men that weren't him, and his obsession with you was unhealthy, It felt like he couldn't last a day without or seeing you, sometime he would show up unannounced with a bouquet of roses in his hands surprising you.
The first time it was a nice gesture, and you loved it but it started again and again, his presence was almost suffocating to you, and when he asked you the question, you felt fear of saying no to him. But you knew if you were to say 'yes' it would get worse, so you told him to give you some time to think about it, he nodded but you knew he was displeased.
You had a plan to just run away, but you knew sooner or later he would catch you, you shivered at the thought. Knowing that your family would be harmed in the invasion, your ear perked at the sound of the door, you dragged your feet to the door, opening it up. It was him, a bouquet of roses in his hands, his Arctic blue eyes staring at you. It was haunting, he cleared his throat before talking, "So..have you made your decision?" every word he said made your heart pump faster, your flight response ringing alarms through your body to run.
"Coriolanus..um" you stopped mid-way, looking at him in his eyes, "I do thank you for what you do for me, but—I barely know you, and I don't think we would..be good together" you finished your sentence, feeling an eerily feeling in your gut, "Why" that all he said, you looked again at him. It looked like a shadow was cast, his bright sky blue eyes that he looked at you with, were darkening as he spoke.
"For all I do for you, you choose to deny me" The volume of his voice increases, and you force yourself to look at him as he yells at you, he laughs for a short while, before grabbing your jaw, "I protected you, I have done everything for you" you eyes watered from his grip, "I think you should leave, Corio" you whispered, it felt like whip when you used his nickname in that sentence, he released your jaw. His hand was in your hair down, pulling you down, as you felt tears threatening to be produced, his rough hands pulling on your hair, making your scalp hurt, "Corio..please!" You exclaimed, he started to say something else, every word uttering from his word was like venom to an open wound. He threw down the bouquet of roses onto the floor
Your knee felt weak as you fell down onto the floor, hearing his footsteps receding, and the sound door being slammed closed. Tears dripping down from your cheek, the bouquet of roses on the floor, as the petals were scattered on the floor, it was some sick remember of Coriolanus. Days passed, and you saw roses on your doormat, every day it would happen, and you felt fear looming over you.
Every time the color would change from pink to a deep red, they varied every day.
But you went back to your job, selling at the stand to the deep of night, noticing the tie, you quickly packed the cart up for tomorrow and rolled it back to where the old couple resided. You sang to yourself as the wheels of the cart rolled against the broken concrete before you knew it, you felt a hand wrapping your torso, and something else like cloth suffocating you, you tried to scream, but it went deaf in your throat, succumbing to the cloth as you closed your eyes, fainting into the strangers hands.
Your eyes fluttered open, as your eyes wandered around your surroundings. You felt your legs numb, as you tried to stand up, but couldn't, looking down at yourself, rope wrapped around your body. You tried not to move from the friction of the rope hurting you.
Your ears perked at the sound of footsteps,. "Your finally awake, my dove" He walked towards you, taking a knee when he got a good look at you. His fingers caressed your cheek, "We were meant for each other, Y/N" He whispered, you started shaking when his hands lowered, and you turned yourself away from him before he withdrew from him. Before he grabbed you by your jaw, forcing you to look at him, "Do I scare you, am I that ugly that you don't want to love me, Y/N" You shook your head immediately, "Then why.." He growled, and you felt tears on your cheeks, "Don't try to use your crocodile tears on me, Y/N" He glared at you.
You looked away from him, as you sniffled, "Fuck, you don't know what you do to me.." he traveled his finger over your lip, parting it, as you stared at him. Before he kissed you, his tongue forcing itself into your mouth, you felt yourself crying more, as you bit down on his tongue. He withdrew from you, the trail of blood on his lips. His haunting chuckle echo in your ear, "You fucking bitch" He held his jaw. He stood up from the floor, looking away from him.
You heard the sound of belt jingling, your eyes widening at the sight, of his cock in his hand, "Corio, no..please' you begged, your felt yourself crying more, his footsteps inching near you, he slapped his cock on your cheek, it was degrading. "Open," He said, and you felt your lips trembling at the size, "N-no" you whispered, and he repeated himself again, you turned away before he pried your lips open and forced himself into your mouth, making you gag. His hands were in your hair, as he dragged you against his cock, fucking into your mouth. Salvia dripping down from your chin, his groans ringing out in your ears.
"Fuck, you're doing so good, sweetheart" He looked down at you, as your tears filled your vision, he smirked looking at your vulnerable form, before he thrust himself into you. You felt his hot load going down your throat, "Swallow" He said, and you obeyed, The bitter taste coating your mouth, his hands caressing your cheek, "Good girl" he smiled at you. Before he released your jaw, your eyes looked down at the floor, before you heard him tucking himself into his pants.
Days passed,
He treated you with kindness, gifting you a rose, and caressing your back as you lay on his lap, but you managed to convince him to remove the rope around your body. He would braid your hair, comb it, and treat you like a doll. It kept on happening, you started worrying about your family if they were currently looking for you. "Coriolanus, can I visit my family, please" He stopped combing your hair, and he down at you, "Do you deserve it?" He asked, "Please" you begged, sitting up as you looked at him. He breathed out, looking away from you.
"I deserve it, you kidnapped me against my own will!" You stood and yelled, he just glared at you, as he stood up. His height towering over you, "You don't need them at all, I..can give you what you need. you don't need them" He yelled at you, grabbing your shoulder as he forced you to look up at him. "No, I never asked for you to do anything, you came up to me. You did this just to do it, Coriolanus" You yelled at him, finally using his full name instead of the nickname you gave me, you felt your cheek throbbing, his hand harshly hitting you, before he grabbed you by your shirt, "I will fucking kill you and your family if you leave me, Y/N..do you hear me" He lowered his voice, you were shaking. His eyes softened at you crying, before he held you not a hug and you held him, his hands rubbing your back, soothing you.
"Just not now, Y/N.." He whispered and kissed your forehead, you felt sick to your stomach. The next day, he apologized to you, and you were forced to accept, he covered you with kisses and love, and gifted roses.
A month passed still being caged by Coriolanus, but you got some freedom from him, but you weren't allowed to leave a tall. he had surveillance on you. He always reminds you that he loved you, did kind things with you, and surprised you with flowers like he always did. Red roses everywhere,
You stared at the window, it was fairly getting dark, and no signs of Coriolanus coming back. You wanted to escape but knowing the consequence would be horrible if you committed the act, before you heard stomping from the door, your eyes looking at the furious Coriolanus in front of you. "How many men, have you slept with Y/N" You got up from your feet, looking at him incredulously, "What are you talking about?" before you felt a sting on your cheek, "Don't play dumb with me" He yelled at you, "How many" He repeated himself, "I —none, I didn't do anything, Coriolanus" you sniffled, before he took a fist of your hair, pulling you towards him, "Don't fucking lie to me, Y/N" He growled, "I'm not lying, please" He hit you a second time, this time it was worse, feeling your nose bleeding from the impact. He started dragging you to the bedroom, where he forced you to sleep, throwing you onto the mattress of the bed, you heard him taking off his belt, forcefully tying up your hands above you.
"Coriolanus, please' you screamed, kicking your legs everywhere, "Please-please, stop" you cried as he got on top of you, taking off your pants and panties in the same quick motion. Aligning himself against, before you felt himself inside of you, it was painful, horrible. He moaned against you, as he forced himself into you and out, thrusting his hips against yours, you screamed at him, hitting him on his biceps to stop.
Your screams were deaf to his ears, as he fucked himself into you, his cock tearing everything inside of you, "Please" you heaved, hitting him, his sky-blue eyes staring at you. Time passed slowly, purposely you felt, before he cummed inside of you, you screamed for him to stop and pull out but he didn't. You lay there motionless, dried tears on your cheeks and naked in front of him, "Don't touch me" you cried, flipping to the side away from him. He called your name again, but you ignored him, holding yourself, you rolled yourself into a ball and cried to yourself until you fell asleep.
When you woke up,, you didn't see Coriolanus, you looked at yourself, your bottom still exposed, a reminder of at the ordeal that happened yesterday. You stood up, putting back your underwear and your pants, before walking out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes still tired. There was something on the table, as you walked, it was a bouquet of fresh roses and a note attached to it with his handwriting.
You covered your mouth, and you fell to your knee and cried to yourself, knowing that he wouldn't let you go...the roses he gifted you are just a reminder of his torment.
PUPPETEER
A/N: Happy New Year besties, and I hope your mclovin it, setting up goals. I'm wrapping everything in bows and ribbons, #in my coquette era. Anyway, I'm standing on business, and I will be Coriolanus number-one wife, he told me, TRUST ...This fic is also inspired by @wh0reforcoriolanussnow. And I hope you all have a wonderful new year and a healthy year, xoxo.
WARNING: p in the v, penetration, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, creampie, choking, groping, abuse of power, cigarette usage, alcohol, vomit, non-con to dub-con, gr**ming and breeding...Reader discretion advised + DDDNE.
PAIRING: President!Coriolanus x nymphet!reader
WORD COUNTER: 3.1k
You were innocent so sweet, pure like a dove, and sweet as honey. You smelt like tulips and cinnamon. You had bright shiny f/c hair and sparkly e/c eyes. An infectious smile was always on your lips when you smiled at or saw him. You were a real-life painting of beauty, you were young, free, and impressionable. But you had a disgusting attitude, that was the main thing, feisty..he would've mistaken you for a district girl if it wasn't for your rich lifestyle and luxurious clothes you wear.
You were a cliche, stereotypical rich girl. You were rotten, spoiled if he dared to say. He would describe you as a bimbo or a stunner but surprising… you were smart and capable..popular with your peers. Though you had a horrible smoking habit, it wasn't any day you didn't have a cigarette between your plump lips, sniggering with your 'Friends'.
Maybe that's why he picked you, with all the pros and cons of having you in a matrimonious agreement. You were a candidate to be his wife and carry his children, of course, if you weren't going to put up a fight, but Coriolanus was sure that even if were to fight, he was going impregnate you with his seed.
The first time you heard of getting married to him by your mother, your father of course was away in some sort of business meeting. You were in disbelief, a distraught expression on your face…"Y/N..sweetie..you are getting married to him, this opportunity would help the family gratefully" Your mother pleaded with you, you leaned on one of the sofa chairs as you lit up a cigarette between your lips. Your mother hated the habit, that you picked up by your father, she thought it was unladylike and improper.
"No, I'm not" You quickly dismissed her, rolling your eyes as she repeated herself several times, "Y/n, it's not an offer..your going to marry him" She repeated herself again but with sternness, "No, I'm not" you glared, taking another hit of the cigarette, blowing it purposely in her face. Her face getting redder by the second at your rude gestures. Here you were sitting down, and having a tantrum in Dr. Gaul's office. She didn't say anything yet, just watching as you and your mother fought with each other.
"Y/N, I'm not sure why you're being such a brat, there is an opportunity right in front of you and you're not taking it..this can help us..your family..A LOT!" She argues you roll your eyes at her, looking another way. Before Dr. Gaul spoke up, your attention was on her…"Y/N..this opportunity comes once in a lifetime, becoming the First Lady of Panem is a powerful title" Dr. Gaul says, her hands tapping onto her wooden desk, you pursed your lips…"Besides, your schedule has been cleared for the whole day, and he will be here soon, make sure not to offend or disrespect him…it would be a good look at all" She finishes, and you roll your eyes at her.
You hated that you weren't controlling your life at this point, being forced to marry a man you never knew or cared for, until now. You just sat there smoking your frustrations away as you waited. Staring at the Big Ben clock as the hand moved. You waited, tapping the cigarette ashes onto the ashtray, your mother saying something to you that you ignored as she pressed the issue to you even further.
Exhaling the smoke from your lungs, your ears heard the click of the door, hearing footsteps coming into the office. "President Snow!" you listened to your mother's voice as she purposely made it higher than her already annoying pitch. You watched as Coriolanus and your mother shook hands. She had a sickeningly sweet smile on her face when she looked at him.
"Nice to see you again, Audrey" Coriolanus greeted her. You watched angrily, taking out the almost-finished cigarette from your mouth. Your eyes shifted to Dr. Gaul as Coriolanus also greeted her before he glanced towards your way. You ignore the stares of his blue irises. You felt your cheeks flush, tapping the end of the cigarette near the ashtray. "-And this is Y/N, right?" you felt his eyes on you, in return you gave him a nasty look, already pissed off with his presence and the future event that was being planned in front of you.
Your mother noticed as she carefully stepped towards you, flicking you harshly on the shoulder, and making you grimace.
You gave up resisting with your mother's eyes digging into you, "Yes, President Snow..." You swallowed your pride, enunciating every word in your sentence, making him amused by your actions. You didn't look at him, as you said it..looking down at the ashtray with the burnt ashes of the remains of the cigarette inside of it.
The rest of the meeting was your mother, and Coriolanus, talking about the marriage arrangement in front of you, you were livid by the action..and Dr. Gaul joined into the conversation, saying something, you blurred out and the whole conversation in general. You tapped your foot out in frustration, crushing the cigarette in the tray. You knew your parents just wanted to get rid of you, you would admit that you did do something that wasn't expected of you with your parents but to your defense, they never reprimanded you for any of it.
In this moment, you felt desperate, hopeless, and vulnerable...you were still a kid, a child.
But there wasn't any avail as the months would flip by and your 18th birthday would come, to be married off to the President of Panem and your induction following in as the First Lady, and soon child carrying without even enjoying your youth, becoming a mother, while your peers are relishing their freedom. It sounded like torture to you, made you angry and sad. You felt tears blurring your vision as you got up from your seat, the action being noticed by your mother and others in the room.
Marching out of the office, no.. running out of the office. The sound of your mother yelling for you. You ran out of the building, with your bag in your hand, reaching inside for another cigarette but there were any inside the box, "Fuck" you screamed out in frustration, throwing the box back into your bag, and resorting to a flask. Taking a sip of the alcoholic liquid, it was warm outside, the sun on your skin. It was relaxing, cooling your mood down. Sliding down to the floor, your knee pressed to your chest.
You don't know how much time passed but you wanted it to stop..sniffling to yourself. Your ears picked up on the sound moving near you as you looked to the side, your heart dropped at the sight of Coriolanus Snow in front of you, the man that would take you away from your childhood, your home, and your youth. But you give props to your parents, marrying you to a man who was handsome not as old which was something you were happy about. Just a six-year age gap between you both.
"Looking for this?" You watched as he reached into his pocket, throwing a pack of cigarettes, he almost laughed looking at your face lighting up, holding the box with your fingers. "Thank you," you said, looking up at him...you opened the box putting the cigarette in your lips, covering the end of the cigarette with the lighter lighting up the end. Blowing the smoke, as you held the cigarette between your fingers, sniffling. "Can I sit here with you?" He asked, you looked at him as you nodded. The man sat with you, you bit your bottom lip, as you took another hit of the cigarette. The nicotine cools down your nerves..."So, how is the school doing?" He asked you rolled your eyes at his question, he sounded like your dad..and you cringed at the thought, blowing the smoke, "Good" you responded, putting your head in your hands.
"It's not going to be all that bad, Y/N" He started speaking again, which made you groan, he shifted closer to you, putting his hand on your back. You wanted to revolt, moving away but you really need someone to comfort you, leaning into his touch. As you put your head in his chest, laying down as he rubbed your shoulder. You even know tears were rolling down your cheek, sniffling in your seat, he kissed you on the head, soothing your pain.
It was ironic, that the man you wanted to run away from, was comforting you.
God, you wanted to scream but you sat there, sniffling as you inhaled the nicotine through the cigarette and exhaled through your nose, tapping it onto the ground. His words were comfortable, whether empty or not, you took them as it was.
Coriolanus didn't mind that you laid your head on his chest, he quite appreciated it, your calmness made something inside of him unlock..your vulnerability stroked his ego, especially with your feisty nature.
Days passed, and you found yourself getting comfortable with Coriolanus. He would take you out on little dates, and buy your gifts and jewelry... that he would always put around your neck, the cold steel hitting your chest, the memory made you smile, with joy when you opened the luxurious satin case. The thought of marrying and sacrificing everything you had did get on the edge, and you still were uncomfortable at all with it, but you saw him as a friend more as a lover.
Your parents, mostly your mother encouraged you to speak and talk to him, even sending letters. You always catch yourself writing them for god knows why, but you felt comfort about doing it, and having him read it.
You found yourself visiting him in his residence, as you joined him for his afternoon tea. Something that you didn't do often with your own parents but liked when it was with Coriolanus. He would surprise you with delicious cakes, macarons, and cookies...with him looking at you cutely stuffing your cake with the sweet desserts, your eyes sparkling in joy, it made him chuckle at your cute antics.
But soon..your birthday came around. Your stomach was full of butterflies, you dreaded it. You were finally 18, you had your cake, your claps, and Coriolanus slipped the ring on your finger. The bells of marriage chimed. Looking at yourself in the mirror, a poofy, lacy wedding dress, your hair styled, and makeup done. You looked like a doll, a baby doll you used to play with when you were young.
The dress was pretty, white, lacy imprinted with snowflakes, big and poofy, you had a sweetheart neckline and a diamond necklace on your neck, matching earrings as well. A veil topped your doll-like appearance, as several maids helped you with your dress. The whole population of Panem waiting, watching the wedding ceremony, you felt sick, nauseous and it was evident on your face...the headmistress noticed it, she was an older woman, much older than you..placing her hand on your shoulder, catching your attention, "It will be over soon, just smile for the camera..okay?" She murmured, fixing your veil, nodded at her words, and that was all that you could do now.
Walking down the aisle is lock and key for you...fisting up your hands, narrowing your eyes, some of the maids said something, and next thing you knew, you were walking down the aisle with your father. People that you knew looking at you, some were your peers and others were important, influential people of the Panem, your eyes explored everywhere and then to Coriolanus, who stood there..waiting for you.
"Chin up, and smile Y/N" your father whispered to you,
You breathed out, fixing up your posture..everything felt slow, soon your father handed you off, and you stepped into your destine spot, looking at Coriolanus. You never notice how tall he was, though older, he was much taller, a few inches you assumed.
The priest said something, it was a blur. "I do" the word coming out of Coriolanus snapping you out, looking at the Priest, then at him. "-And you Y/N, do you take Coriolanus Snow as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward and the next..***#$&@*@*@@*$**..-sickness and health...to love and cherish until death do you part?" Your eyes widen at the weird noises coming from the priest's mouth, you hesitate, looking around you..your chest heaving. Your parents looked at you sternly, "I-..i do" You stuttered, "-And with that, you may kiss the bride" The Priest announced.
Coriolanus brought your body close, as his lips connected with yours..your ears ringing out with the sounds of claps and applause. Tears rolling down your cheek,
Your ears rang out, through the rest of the ceremony, the after-party and the kiss...the sound of the door clicking, looking down at your body in a nightgown, in your new residents shared with Coriolanus..where you would live, where your children live and spend your days in. Coriolanus's feet dragged towards you, and your heart pounced against your chest, looking at his half-naked form..." Is this when we" you paused gesturing the rest of your sentence with your hand, your eyes deliberately not looking at him.
You felt sad, disgusting, and vulnerable.
He saw it all over your face, it was obvious.
He preferred it,
You had a twinge of anger through your body, as you observed the smug smirk on his face, you didn't want to end it without a fight. His hand caressing your cheek, you soften at the sight of him, knowing his status and power, it would be a useless sight of retaliation.
He laid you down on your back, his hands dancing on your skin, creeping up under your nightgown, touching you...your eyes couldn't bear but stare. He slowly stripped you off of your nightgown, you were already naked underneath it. Your body is displayed for him, his finger touching and groping your body..you inhale through your nose looking at the ceiling.
His fingers getting dangerously close to your pearl..you instantly held his arm, "Please, be gentle" you whispered, making eye contact with him, as he nodded, releasing his arm. His fingers slipped into your folds, exploring inside you, making you squirm underneath him...sinful moans slipped from your lips at his actions. You looked innocent, lewd, and vulnerable underneath him, it made him get hard and aroused...his fingers scissoring you, his right hand on your chest, rubbing the nubs gently making you whimper. His weight lying on top of you, his fingers spreading your folds, and his fingers digging deep inside you, arching your back at the sensation. His lips leaving kisses from your neck to your collarbone.
Delicate moans left your lips, your hands gripping the sheets. Your skin prickling, your walls squeezing his finger...his groans echoing through your ears. You felt breathless, your breathing getting heavier.
"Corio..i'm close" you sniffled, holding his arm lightly, as his finger made his way into you, every thrust made you closer to coming undone. A throbbing sensation in your abdomen, driving you crazy, the lewd noises of your cunt reverberating around the room.
"Good" He whispered against your skin, the pace of his finger digging into you, your hand instantly gripping his shoulder, your nails digging in deep, making him groan. You felt a coil snapping within you, waves of pleasure, arching your back...your eyes rolling to the back of your head, moans ripping out of your throat. "Corio.." you looked at him through your lashes, your eyes heavy as you stared at him. His fingers withdrawing from your dripping pussy, your cum coating his fingers. Feeling your cheeks reddened..."Open your mouth" He said, you obeyed, laying his coated fingers on your tongue, your tongue swirling around his digits. You felt embarrassed in yourself, his eyes looking down at you, opening your mouth as he took his finger.
He opened your legs, smearing his salvia-coated finger on your thighs...your eyes followed as you held the position, taking off his pants along with his boxers. Your eyes widen in surprise at his size, "C-corio, it's not going to fit" you stuttered, looking away from him.
As he lines up against your slit, you pursed your lips as he slid his cock inside of you, biting your lip at the pain. He hooked your legs on his shoulder, thrusting into you, his hands groping your chest...tears blooming on your waterline at the discomfort, the simmering pain as he forced himself further into you. His groans tainting your ears,
Your breast bounces at every thrust, your vision heavy with lust, fluttering your lashes with tears in your waterline. He bares his teeth, leaving bites on your collarbone, you moan at the touch.
His cock bullying its way to your cervix, as he plunges his cock into you, your hands gripping under the bedsheets...his pace getting faster, and your skin getting a familiar hot feeling tingling inside of you. His pelvis collided with yours, pushing your head back as you moaned, his cock stretching you out. Your chest heaving, your skin beading with sweating, the bed sheet sticking onto your skin..." Corio...I'm so close" you began slurring your words in bliss.
His pace gets faster and sloppier, leaning into you, and giving you a hot, sloppy kiss. His tongue explores your mouth, moaning against his tongue.
Feeling yourself coming undone, as you moaned in pleasure...his thrust getting slower, his groans ringing into your ear before you felt himself spilling his load into you. The hot sensation made you wince,
Your heavy breathing echoed in his ear, as his weight on your body, his cock still burrowed inside of you.
Your eyes flickered down at the sheet between your thighs that was stained in your virgin blood.
A couple of days passed from the intimate engagement you had with Coriolanus. In those days, you were moved into Coriolanus's residence. Beginning the induction of the new title you were going to be given. In those days you began to experience sickness, holding your stomach..your actions were detected by the headmistress.
Your heels stepping on the tile, you felt your stomach hurting even further, feeling nauseous. You fell to your knees, heaving the contents on your stomach, vomiting on the delicate tile floor...hearing the steps of the headmistress, your eyes looking up at the women.
Her face was nonchalant at the scene, "Your pregnant, my lady" she declared..you felt your heart dropping, but you couldn't say anything as threw up on the floor. The sounds of vomit echo through the manor, sitting there, the disgusting smell filling up your senses.
Before the headmistress yelled for another maid to clean up the mess. Another two took you up gently from the floor, you wanted to cry at the new information given to you..you were baring a child in your body that you didn't wish for. But for now, you were being dragged on your feet to your chambers, waiting for the knowledge to be sent to President Snow.
＠anyone: can someone request some jaw-dropping Coriolanus requests please thank you... xoxo.
UPDATE: PLEASE!
FAME
A/N: Ideas are blooming out of nowhere, low-key this is a lot to unpack, make sure to read the warning and if your uncomfortable, don't read it, I hope you guys having a blessed day today, xoxo, there might be a part two.
WARNING: p in the v, penetration, unprotected sex, coercion, abuse of power, cheating, objectification, misogyny, reader being a sex symbol, abuse drugs, mentions of alcohol/drinking, abuse, non-con to dub-con, drugging, usage of cigarettes, Viewer discretion is advised...
PAIRING: President!coriolanus x singer!reader
WORD COUNTER: 4.0k
Fame is a word that represents many things: dream coming true,, all-the-world luxury opening up, money funneling up, and all the reasons to climb up to the top of the food chain. Becoming the apex predator, a name..NOBODY can wipe off, you're initially written on a golden star, your name carved into history, your identity being remembered.
The recognition of your voice, your face, your personality being known to a single name, all of your greatness tied together into one body, one soul, something that doesn't grow on trees. It was fame you desired, that your heart yearned for putting all your time, and energy into a puzzle that fits into the right corner of your life. You wanted to live forever, you wanted to fly up join the ones who inspired and gave you the drive to work, you wanted to make it, make it to that heaven.
People looking at you, you wanted them to cry in desperation to get your attention, you wanted them to remember your name for history, into textbooks something that can never go away so easily, carved into people's brains...that what you dreamed of, lights flashing in your eyes, the glaring hurting you bit of bit, but this what you worked for to be recognize by the ones above, holding onto a golden trophy you won by yourself, you felt like you made it. On a stage, a platform, where the camera flashed you. Your image being printed on the news, your appearance being broadcasted to the media, fans screaming your name from the outside, important people looking at you, impressed. This was your moment, you learned how to fly, and you worked for it. Your identity being secured into history...they have to remember, but...why weren't you not happy, not secure.
Growing out of the district scum, becoming a household name, rising up to the Capitol, and earning identity there...now you sat at the vanity looking at the mirror before one of your shows, one of the makeup artists painting your lips in a rouge color, your e/c eyes looking into the mirror. You would always dream of this moment coming to life, your mother braiding your hair, humming one of your childhood songs. She, herself wanted to be a singer but couldn't because of her status and pregnancy, though living in the district..you had a wonderful home, one that wasn't broken, but one in a broken society, where people in the district were given the name of disgust by the highly 'elevated' individuals in the Capitol.
You wanted to leave, bring your family, and give them a home they deserved as much as you. You hated the district and hated you had an up-bringing there.
A flash of nostalgia ran through your mind being interrupted by a tech, "Y/N, 30 minutes before showtime" You listened to the announcement, flickering your eyes away from the staffer, and you raised your hands up, stopping the makeup artist from moving her brush. "Could you leave the room?" you said, listening to the footsteps receding away from you.
You took out a flask, screwed the lid open, and taking a swig of the bitter liquid, the burning and painful sensation coursing down your throat. Your chest heaving, putting your hands on the vanity table gripping the table, closing your eyes, biting down on your lip. Anxiety bubbling in your chest, looking up at yourself in the mirror, it felt like a million things running through your mind. You manage to slip away from the thought by the knocks on the door, turning your head at the sound, the door clicking open..."Y/N, 5 minutes to Showtime" One of the staffers said, giving yourself one last look, getting up from the vanity, fixing up your hair. The clicks of your heels on the porcelain tiles, tech staffers giving you a mic, and earpiece, as your makeup team fixes up your face and hair, finish up the last touches.
You were ridden with anxiety, butterflies flying in your stomach with every step you took, each leading you closer to the stage, where important people stood, you were going to sing to for celebration of the 15th hunger games, you took breaths in between your steps, fuck..you really need a cigarette.
Listening to your cue, smoothing your off-the-shoulder red velvet dress. "You're up," one of the techs said, tapping your shoulder, slipping you away from your head, as you nodded and cleared your throat. Walking onto the stage, you felt eyes on you..everywhere, setting yourself behind the microphone stand, closing your eyes, as the music started playing, the melody of the piano, the keys bringing in the familiar tune, as the band began to play following the notes of the leading piano.
Your hands on the microphone. Feeling the heat of the stage light hitting your form, making you wince.
Formation of words slipping from your lips as it became a symphony into the song, your voice dancing with the delicate notes of the piano.
The angelic voice coming from your lips, the words slipping out of your mouth, enchanting the audience. The feeling of anxiety leaving your system, as you pour your heart into the piece, every note you hit brings you relax, flickering your eyes open, glancing to the audience staring at your elevated form. The orchestra of people, filled with important and big shots in the Capitol, staring at you, enchanted with your voice, your eyes following up.
To the balcony, as you felt the end of the song, your eyes looking at the familiar figure on the balcony boxes, your eyes slightly widen as you made eye contact with the gentleman...Coriolanus Snow, the president of Panem. You felt your heart drop at the figure, feeling your vocal cords stretching as you hit a high note finishing the song, you maintained eye contact. as the band played the outro, with your voice leading off,
Finally notes ending it off, as you heard a rain of applause ringing to your ears, looking at the President of Panem raising his hands and clapping for you..you bowed down, your head turning up, giving a glance up at the President.
Walking off the stage backstage, "Fuck, give me a cigarette, now!" you exclaimed, as one of the assistants gave you a box, putting a stick on your lips, as she gives you a lighter, igniting up the end of the cigarette. Blowing a cloud of smoke through your nose, walking down to your stage room combing your hair, trying to relieve your stress, sitting down on the vanity chair. Placing the cancer stick between your lips, leaning in the seat..."You were breathtaking out there" You immediately turned your head to the voice, Coriolanus walked in, closing the door, his hands in his pockets.
"Mr. President" You stood up from the chair, pushing your dress, and smashing the burning cigarette in the ashtray. "You don't need to stand up," He stated, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You didn't want to sit back down since you were afraid to disrespect the leader of the nation. You heard his footsteps inching closer to you, "Where did you learn to sing like that?" He asked, circling around your figure. You would have never dreamt for this to happen to you, "My mother taught me" You answered shortly, your eyes lingering on your hand. "I bet your mother was a gorgeous singer as you" He responded, glancing at you, you giggled at the comment, "She was.." you responded,
He watches your facial expression saddened, "Looks like you and me have something in common...already" he lightly chuckles, walking to the bar cart, your eyes following him hesitantly, glancing at your hands. "Drink?" He offers, you nod. His fingers circled the opening of the cup, taking out two cups and placing in on the counter of the table, pouring the mahogany liquid into the cups. Taking the liquid-filled cups and offering the cup to you, as you took the glass.
The cool cup touched your palm, "Cheers" He said, lifting the cup towards you, gesturing a cheer. Lifting your glass slightly before taking a sip of the mahogany liquid.
Smiling to yourself as you drank, glancing up at the gentleman. "If I can ask..why are you visiting me, President" You held the cup slightly tighter, "I wanted to offer you something," He said, his body moving closer to you. He saw as your eyes lit up in excitement, making him chuckle at the sight, his hands lifting your chin up slightly, his fingers caressing your cheek, your lips parting looking up at his crystal blue eyes.
"I need you to use that pretty voice of yours at a ceremony I'm hosting" He tilts your head to the side, admiring your face your eyes to your nose and lips, "You'll be of course paid in full, and suitable one indeed..so you won't have to use that pretty head" he brushes a strand of hair over your ear, "So..what do you think?" He said, withdrawing his hands away from you. You felt your heart pumping, as you thought about it, not wanting to take too long, but you nodded at his words, "Good, I'll send letters and updates on it" He finishes, before he finishes the whiskey in his cup till it was gone, putting the glass down. Taking your hand and leaving a kiss on the back of your hand, "But for now..I'll have to take my leave" He said, you took your hand away from him. Your eyes followed him, you couldn't formulate any words to him but nodded as he gave you a final look goodbye. The click of the door leads you into reality.
Putting your hand on your heart, feeling it beating against your chest.
Time slipped by..days to months
You got the letters, reading them in your penthouse resigning in Capitol. Some of them weren't just business but Coriolanus writing to you. His words made you smile, though from the short time you met him, but you were grateful he came to you.
Under his influence made you thrive, your fame, and notoriety spreading...
Playing with your hair as you read every single word on the page. You did follow out with his words, performing once again at one of his parties.. fixing up your hair, puffing your hair up, and turning yourself in the mirror, at the red satin dress Coriolanus gifted you. Smoothing the fabric out near your stomach, looking at yourself in the mirror. Hearing footsteps coming into the room, as you turned, relaxing at the sight of Coriolanus.
He was wearing his signature suit, a bloody red suit with a white tucked-in shirt. In his hand was a bouquet of red roses, "For you" He gave you the bouquet of roses, holding them to your chest. "Thank you" you smiled at him, as you smelt the roses, glancing at him. A smirk painted on his lips, his hands lifting your head, "Make sure you use that pretty voice of yours, my dove..." He whispered as you felt his hands on your waist, making your cheeks flushed.
Though you never had the time to learn more about Coriolanus, your heart yearned for him, the more he talked and sent letters to you. You never really thought about how he was touchy with you, though you enjoyed it...you always felt anxious when your with him.
You hear your name being called, as you place the bouquet of roses in one of the staffer's arms, telling them to put them in a vase for you, glancing at Coriolanus form, as you smile at him. Your heels clicking onto the tile, walking down to the stage, your ears listening to the rain of applause as you walk to the mic. Your stomach was filled with butterflies but you looked to the side, and your eyes caught the sight of Coriolanus smiling at you. Your eyes flickered from him, as you smiled.
You opened your lips, familiar angelic notes coming out of your lips. Singing your emotion out as it sympathizes with the melody, holding the mic as your voice leads to the chorus. Your eyes sparkle in the spotlight, singing your heart out into a simple melody, enchanting as it was, given by the audience's eyes staring at you. Something that you made you sweat and have butterflies swirling in your stomach, anxious assume you bit by bit, but it was always washed away when you thought of the rewarding end you were going to get.
Word slipping from you, pouring your soul and heart out to the listening audience, as they watched you, leading into the interlude and to the climax, your voice projecting to the audience as you sang the last parts as the piano lead off with your voice. The rain of applauses, the sound of clapping made you smile as you bow down, the spotlight never leaving you. Your heart was still pounding but you smile through it. Walking from the stage to the backstage, being greeted by Coriolanus, "You were heavenly" He whispered to you, you relaxed, smiling at him. "Thank you" you felt your cheeks warming up at his praise.
His hands dancing on your waist, leaning towards you, "Let's get out of here" He whispers to you, taking your hand into his, "W-wait, don't you have to stay here, President.." You stuttered, "I have a more important thing to do" He whispered in your ear, hearing a smirk in his voice as he took your hand.
Leading you out of the theatre, feeling the wind through your hair, parting your lips at the night sky, the stars sparkling in the dark sky. As he led you to the chauffeur, opening the car door for as you enter, the door clicking besides you as he got onto the left side of the car. He said the chauffeur something that you couldn't decipher. You felt yourself sweating and your heart quicken the slight tension in the air, as you felt the car moving. You didn't know how to react or what to do, your eyes darting everywhere expect him, glancing at him, his eyes glance at you, you looked away from him. You felt his hand touching your thigh, feeling him slightly gripping it. "Are you scared?" You felt your throat getting dry, your eyes looking everywhere expect his, his fingers grazing underneath your upper thigh, your eyes darting to his hand, before him. "No.." you respond.
"If your aren't..why are you afraid of me?" He mutter, "I-i just never been in this situation before" You cleared your throat, a awkward giggles leaving your throat, putting your hand over his hand.
"So...your a virgin?" He said, you are frozen in your seat, words unable to leave your lips, hesitantly nodding at him, giggling at his comment. "So, you still have your thorns...untouched, innocent, unripe " His body inching closer to you, "Funny how Panem sex symbol, is a virgin isn't it?" He chuckled, and you reluctantly laughed with him, naive as you were, you did know what would happen if you followed him. Needless to say, your heart was thumping, feeling the car stopping as the chauffeur said something. "We're here" He muttered, you felt thankful for that moment in time, his hands withdrawing from you, as you both got out of the car.
Your eyes looked at the new environment you were in, the manor was huge, something that only existed with old money, and it was beautiful with the pillar adoring the house. He chuckled with your eyes exploring the house, "Follow" He ordered, as you obeyed, following him inside. The Peacekeepers guarding the manor opened the big door and you both walked into a more beautiful interior.
"It's gorgeous" Your looked up at the chandelier glittering in the lights, "I'm glad you like it" He smiled at you, his footsteps receding from you, as you followed him further into the manor, everything was captivating, something you would only find at the capitol. You were taken from your thought by his words, as he spoke out to you...you realized where he took you, the parlor. You immediately sat on the sofa, it was comfortable and soft, "Drink?" he offered, his luxurious leather shoes on the delicate tile, "Sure" you nodded, your eyes lingering on your hands in your lap, "What type?" He asked, "Anything" You quickly answered, and you deep inhaled and exhaled through your nose. "Have you tried Bourbon?" He asked you heard the glass on the wooden counter.
"No, never bourbon..I'm more of a Jack Daniels girl" You awkwardly giggled, and he poured the caramel liquid into the short glasses, your eyes dawdling on your hands. Before you heard his footstep coming closer to you, offering you a glass, you took it. "Thank you" you smiled, the cool caramel liquid swishing in the glass, looking at him, gesturing a 'cheers', you nodded, looking at the liquid before consuming the liquid till nothing was in the glass. The liquid was sweet, and bitter due the its alcoholic nature but was satisfying. "It's really good" You put your hand on your lip, smiling, a smirk on his lips, "I told you," He said, as he sipped the liquid.
"It's sweet, like vanilla" You beamed, he nodded at your words, your angelic voice dripping from your lips, feeling a buzzing noise in your ear, everything moving slowly around you. Your vision blurring, "Y-yeah" your words slurred, your eyes getting heavy. Blinking, before closing your eyes as you felt everything go black,
Your eyes fluttered open, your body was frozen.. you couldn't feel your legs, fingers, or moving your head. You felt cold, bare...lewd sounds engulfing your ears. Your eyes darted to the ceiling, parting your lips, you heard grunts coming near you.
Your irises slowly look forth, you felt cold, ice cold... your heart dropping at the scene. A half-naked Coriolanus on you, his hands groping every part of exposed skin. Your dress was ripped, the one he gifted you. Your boob spilled out, displayed for him, his dick dragging into you. You were frozen still.
You wanted to scream, cry, but only hoarse noises escaping your throat, tears escaping your eyes slipping away staining your cheek. Your awakening wasn't unnoticed by Coriolanus, "You awake" Your eyes stared at his form, forcing himself inside of you. Sweat dripped off his forehead as his hands touched your skin, it felt like stabs everywhere. Betrayal settled in, it was quite naive of you, letting a man you never had the chance for yourself to know, allowing the intimate touches on your body.
You got the hint, but you ignored them purposely, maybe it was a warning for him to stop or continue..you didn't know what to think. The act of being vulnerable in front of him was a mistake, his moans and groans snapping you out of thought. You felt bile rising in your throat, you wanted to vomit, throw up, cry...but you could merely just listen and stare at the atrocities being committed. It hurt everywhere hurts, "Fuck, you feel so good around me" he groans, a sickening smirk on his lips..." please" you manage to force out from your throat, you felt tears pricking up on your waterline.
He laughed at your simple words, "please what?" he sneered, "stop" You had some type of hope in you... your lack of formulating sentence made him laugh pitifully, "Sorry my dove, it's just an exchange, company policy" his fingers caressing your cheek, as you stared in disbelief at his words. Whether you were angry, shocked, or sad, you didn't know what to believe or to know or to do. You just laid there taking the bit of pain, of his assault. "Why... I-I never asked for anything,, Corio" you sniffled, you purposely let the nickname slip, hoping it made him have a little humanity still left inside of him to stop, his hands gripping onto your waist, making you groan in pain, "I gave you everything, without my influence, your just be a lowly singer in Capitol born to be overshadowed by other more talented people, more younger, more pretty.., better than that lowly voice you from with..." He reduced you to tears, the more he talked, wet tears dripping from your eyes, he laughed.
He was mocking you.
"Did you just think, people just liked your voice... I thought you knew better than that...your looks pays off for your lack of personality" He kept on talking, and you hoped he would just stop and shut up, but the little words coming from him, made you cry.
"Besides...just be a good girl, and take it, will you..." He murmured.
His haunting groans and moans left his lips, staring into blankness. You wanted to hate the assault, but the agonizing pain turns into pleasure due to your discontent. The blooming sensation made you moan, and you arched your back in bliss, "I told you...you would bend into my touch" he whispered, nestling his head in the curve of your neck, his lips marking kisses from your neck to your collarbone, "Your take me so well" He smirks...
Time drifted away from you, you wanted to forget what happened between you and Coriolanus, but he wouldn't allow it, he still sent letters and gifts to your home... every time you looked at the address you felt like vomiting, crying, screaming. You still performed, you couldn't allow some fling to prevent you from maintaining what is important to you, your career. But months passed, and you stared at yourself in the mirror, you were visibly getting bigger, around your abdomen area. When Coriolanus demanded your presence you would obey and go, and it would always lead to intimacy...but now you are in his bed once again, stripped bare. His hands danced around your collarbone as you sat in his lap, his fingers playing with your hair, leaving kisses against your skin.
You felt like you were caged, with only yourself to talk to, though you already knew, beforehand. But you never felt so alone when your accompanied by Coriolanus, you debated on telling him the news, or keeping it to yourself but he was bound to know. He has eyes and ears around the Capitol, the districts, and all over Panem, you had no safe opinion left.
"Coriolanus.." He stopped mid-way, his eyes staring at you, yours forward. "I'm pregnant" the words slipped out of your throat, "It's yours" you finished, finally looking him in the eye...he didn't move or react, it made you scared, before he smiled, marking a kiss on your shoulder. "You would be a good mother" His hands shifted from your collarbone to your stomach, rubbing it gently. You didn't know how to feel, part of you didn't want any of it, forced by the pregnancy and burden of having a child you didn't want.
You were scared of confessing to him, leaning to his touch, you felt yourself being vulnerable around him, "Will, we marry?" Your eyes flickered to his, before he took your hand into his palm, rubbing your ring finger, "What would you prefer, a ruby or diamond" He said playfully, "Whatever you think is perfect for me" You replied, your eyes shifting from him to the color stained window, it was snowing. You felt his lips on your neck, nuzzling his head in the crevice of your neck.
TIME
It passed, the ring on your finger...your eyes hazy, looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt humiliated in yourself. White dust stained on your nose, feeling the light of your feet, pleased with the drug taking its effect. You were wearing your wedding dress, it was white, lacy, and poofy. Dried tears smudging your cheeks, you really hated yourself, a white veil hiding from the mirror...you desired to drink yourself away in alcohol, the only thing you could do, but due to Coriolanus surveillance he wouldn't allow it, not the mother of his child to harm herself or the baby, he made sure to hide everything that could possibly harm you or the child. Sending you away in your shared chambers, where you sulked and waited for him.
Your legs moving under your weight, a random man who was supposed to be your father, holding your arm. Leading down the aisle, superficial people around you, examining you, staring... judgment on their faces.
You're used to it, as the gentleman left you before your future husband, Coriolanus. You strolled up the stairs, your eyes locking with Coriolanus, who gave you a smile. His hands taking yours, your eyes lifted to his, before the priest said some words that you blurred out, staring at Coriolanus. The only one that stuck with you was, "You may kiss the bride" He said, Coriolanus flipping the veil, revealing your face, as he kissed you, you closed your eyes.
Hearing applause from the audience withdraws from his lips. "You'll be a wonderful wife" He fixed your veil, rubbing your hands.
You just nodded and smiled, knowingly signing yourself to him, throwing the key, and selling yourself, your soul, your rights, and your body to him alone..you wished to just rewind time and never lock eyes with him in the theatre.
The mere thought made you tear up, as tears managed to escape..and Coriolanus came to your rescue and wiped them away.
© 2023 tonixe, do not repost, copy, translate, or sell my work.
—santa baby
A/N: Another Coriolanus Fic, I know, im obsessed. But I'm still in love with him. Christmas special, and the votes were counted, and the winning side was smut, not surprised though. I wanted smut too!
WARNING: fingering, creampies, virginity loss, p in v, teasing, groping, breeding kink, oral sex (male receiving), cum eating.
PAIRING: Young! Coriolanus x virgin!reader
WORD COUNTER: 2.1k
You enjoyed the holidays, the festive decorations, and the lovely atmosphere of the holiday, it filled you with much peace and joy throughout the month. But this month was your favorite, Christmas is a day that you get to gift people, and though people coup up in the Capitol, you were spoiled with many gifts from your parents and others, but you especially liked to gift people with your own expensive, spoiling others made you feel happy, enthralled even. Surprising from someone of your caliber to say.
You especially liked to gift your loved ones, your mother, father, siblings, and especially your beloved, Coriolanus Snow. You were in distress about what to gift him for this especially holiday, though you knew he always got something to satisfy your craving for luxury. You didn't know at all, even trying to talk to Tigris about what Coriolanus always wanted, she, herself didn't have an answer for this difficult question. A thought bloomed in your mind, though of the four years of marriage you shared with Coriolanus, you never ever had a sexual encounter with him. Was gifting him your virginity too scandalous, but you didn't know anything else that would do it for him, he did have everything a man wished for,
What would a president of Panem want for Christmas, you sat down and read through catalogs and catalogs of magazines to get you an idea of what to do. You knew Coriolanus adored having you wearing lingerie, especially the lacy ones that showed skin, you felt queasy at the idea, your cheek getting hotter by the second, pursing your lips together, but there wasn't any other way...right?
Your idea was to make a special set of lingerie for you to wear for Coriolanus, you wanted something that would match his signature red suit. Something lacy, with ribbons and cute little bows. You manage to get a tailor that would set up the special lingerie collection. Attending the fitting was hard, especially with Coriolanus wanting to know where you are every second, can't have Panem's prized jewel going missing?
You had a bunch of peacekeepers guarding your every move, walking into the tailor shop and out, even going inside. It was hard to keep this secret hidden from Coriolanus, especially with the loyal guards who reported your every move. But you manage to keep the secret, even making the tailor meet you in a secluded area of the shop to get the measurements.
But in the end, it was able to be complete, the dainty luxurious fabric into a piece of lingerie fitted for your delicate curves, it was a babydoll delicate, with stockings with matching bows on the top of the seams. It was perfect, you hoped that would enjoy that gift, but some part of you doubted. Days after days passed, and it was the prized day, the day you were ready for.
You snuck out of your shared chambers, your plan was to surprise him, writing down a little note and leaving it by his side. Taking out the box with the special garments inside the parcel, sliding on the red delicate lingerie, and mesh tights. Wrapping yourself with a red ribbon, tying your hands together, tightening it with your teeth. Carefully getting into the medium-sized box, you were almost done until you heard footsteps through the hallways, and quickly put the box top on. Your heart rate increases, and you feel your palm getting sweaty...
Hearing Coriolanus's voices through the box, closing your mouth shut. You didn't want to spoil his precious gift, hoping he would at least be satisfied with the surprising gift, crossing your fingers in hope.
Coriolanus called out for you, realizing that you were beside him when he woke up. He knew you enjoy the holidays and this one in general, as he stepped out into the living, there was already a gift he planned to present to you, but looking at the strange box, it was red with a silver ribbon, and was slightly moving. He cocked his eyebrows at the scene, cautiously walking towards the present.
His hands reach for the box and open it, your frame being revealed to him, your eyes making contact with his. "So, this is where you were, my dove," He said, chuckling at your struggling form, "Merry Christmas, Corio" You gave him a shy smile, but you should have seen how you looked in Coriolanus' perspective, the red ribbon wrapping around your body, and near your chest area squeezing against your breast, awaiting to spill out of their confinements. Flickering your eyes away from him, feeling Coriolanus grabbing you out the box shocking you. The red ribbons still confine to your body, as he bridal carried you, "So, this why you were so distinct from me, trying to make this little gift" he smirked, your eyes hestitiately looking away from his bright blue eyes.
His footsteps carry you to your shared chambers, your heart beating in your chest. As he delicately put you on the edge of the bed, your body still confined with the ribbon, he took out some embroidery scissors, slowly cutting through the ribbon except the ones on your hand, as he placed it down on the delicate wooden desk.
His eyes wandered on your half-naked body. Your body looked smooth, doll-like. Your perky chest with hard peaks, his hands touching your confined ones, and he put them over your head. "You did so good for me, dove" he whispered, his fingers touching you, tracing the line of your stomach to your collarbone making you shiver. He outlined your stomach down to your pelvis, gradually dragging off the lacy red panties, making you anxious as your eyes followed his fingers dragging off the delicate panties. Extending your legs, looking at the panties fully being extracted, and throwing them to the other side of the bedroom. The cold air ghosted against your cunt, as your legs trembled.
"Corio.." You whined, you were embarrassed, the feeling of butterflies fluttering around your stomach, "I'm just enjoying my Christmas present, darling" He inched his face, whispering to your ear, as his fingers danced to your delicate petals inching to the bud. His fingers gradually inserted his digits into you, a strife of moans coming out of your lips, as you curved your back up in pleasure. His fingers pulling out of you unbearably slow and plunging back in making you tense up. The brutal pace made you break, your chest heaving as you tensed up at his fingers before his fingers picked up in pace, and it turned into a reckless frenzy. His fingers fucking you harshly, flickering your pearl.
A wanton of moans ripping out of your throat, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, his lips connecting to yours, his tongue exploring your cavern, leaning into the intense kiss. His fingers are still at work, fucking you harsily. You lifted your hips up for him to thrusting deeper into your pussy, withdrawing from the kiss, as you stared at Coriolanus with droopy eyes, your lips parting apart.
Turning your head away from him in embarrassment, "Don't look away from me, dove" He gently turns your head to him, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. Your body felt hot, sweat dripping off of your body. His fingers drove into your cunt, the sloshing sound of your slick, your body getting hotter. Feeling a hot wave of pleasure crashing onto you, curving your back up as your juices mixed with your slick, tensing up your hands against the sheets. Feeling his fingers leaving your cunt, covered in clear fluids. Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment, "You made a mess" Coriolanus said, flickering your eyes at his frame, your hands taking his arm, surprising him. Placing his cum-coated fingers in your mouth, your tongue swirling against his fingertips, staring at him with doe eyes.
His eyes lit up with amusement, as you cleaned his fingers, pulling out his hands from your mouth, saliva coating his fingers. "Are you sure this is your first time, dove" He whispers with delight, you nod, "I want..to satisfy you, Corio" you mumble from your lips, "You are" he cups your cheek, "No..I want to pleasure you, please" your doe eyes looking at his cold eyes. His lips parted at your innocent appearance. Before you sat up, leading him down onto the large bed, your knee digging into the sheet as you pulled off his pants along with his boxers.
Feeling yourself swallowing at the size of his cock, as it strung up. The tip with an angry tip and is covered in colored veins.
Your hand slowly strokes it, your ears hearing groans slipping out of his mouth. Your fingers rub the tip. "Fuck, Y/N" he groans, "Is everything okay?" you questioned, feeling anxious that you're hurting him, "Yes, fuck" he muttered before you took his cock whole into your mouth, your tongue swirling the tip, hearing moans. Your head bobbing up and down his shaft, his moans getting louder, feeling his hands tangled in your hair, as you looked up at his trembling form.
His hand forced you down, making you gag. Tears pricking up on your waterline, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose. As he face fucked you, salvia drooling down your chin, moaning against his touch. Feeling yourself getting wetter, your doe eyes look up.
His hands never leaving your hair as he forced you down before he released his load down your throat, the bitter-salty taste hitting your tongue. Feeling his cock soften in your mouth, withdrawing from him. "Did I do good" you cocked your head to the side, as he examined at you, making note of your half-naked form. His hands making contact with your cheek, as he caressed gently.
He just nodded as you looked at his member harden, as you crawled on top of his body. His hand makes its way on the top of your lingerie, taking it off, and discarding it. Placing your hands on his shoulder, feel his hand on your waist, as you lowered yourself down on his cock. Feeling searing pain in your lower abdomen, stifling a groan from your lips. You felt his hands on your hips dragging you down, bottoming himself, "it's too big... corio" you quivered, "Your doing so well, dove" he gently lift your chin up slightly, as you stared at him.
His hips gently thrust up into your cunt, making you shiver in delight, biting your lip down. Your nails dig deeper into his shoulder making him groan, resting your head on his shoulder, adjusting to the pain. "I'm going to move, okay... Dove" he whispered, you nodded your head at the statement, before feeling his hands on the plush of your bottom, the slow-motion as he gripped your hips feeling his cock leaving you and his then lowering your hips down.
Tears prick on your waterline, biting your lips at the discomfort, his hands rubbing your waist. His hands picking up speed, picking and dropping you down on his cock, the gradually simmering moment of pain, turning into pleasure in your core, moans coming from your lips, throwing your head back in thrill. "Corio" you whined, his pelvis thrusting up. His cock rubbing at your cervix. Your body riding him, feeling addicted to his touch. "Corio–corio" your mouth chanting his name like a prayer, "I'm close..please" You were breathless, his cock slipping out of you and in. Feeling a wave of satisfaction crashing down on you, moans ripping out of you. The lewd sounds of your body mixing with his, your high-pitched moans ripping out your throat.
Feeling his cock leaving you, making you whine, "Lay down" he whispered, pecking your lips as you obey, laying down as he line up with you, pushing his cock into you, thrusting in and out of you, your this bouncing on impact, his hands pressing your legs down on your chest. "Fuck" he groans, his hands pressing your legs closer to you, into a missionary position. Feeling him deep inside you, "Corio–I'm close" you cried out, adjusting your arms around his neck.
His mouth connects to your neck, sucking the vulnerable flesh, you whined out on impact. "I'm close too" he grunted, his pace getting faster, the melody of slapping skin echoing through the room. "Inside please" you whispered, pulling Coriolanus closer to you, feeling your orgasm crashing down on you, moaning out.
Feeling his hot load filling you, his mouth crashing into you, moaning against him. The sensation of his cock dragging out of you, makes you whine. Sweat covers your body, cringing at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you. Your eyes hesitantly looking down, staring at the mess between your legs, light pink liquid dripping out of you.
"Merry Christmas, Corio" you exclaimed, your tired form not letting you stand up, discomfort ringing through your body. Your eyes flicker at the colored stained window, snow falling decorating the scene. Feeling the bed bending at his weight and leaning onto you, leaving a kiss on your lips, "Merry Christmas, my love"
headcannons spending christmas with coriolanus
A/N: I did both, lmao. Merry Christmas pookies. <3
A/N: I did both, lmao. Merry Christmas pookies. <3
WARNING: None, just pure fluff, wait...some nsfw???
PAIRING: Coriolanus x reader
WORD COUNTER: 654
✧ Imagine spending Christmas with Coriolanus snow. The tree would of course be all his, he would always pick out all the decorations, the star, ornaments, and no light because it gives the tree a tacky appeal.
✧ The color would be of course red, white, and gold. You tried to add some colors for the holiday appeal but it was always struck down, even if you begged him to. The enormous tree, with a red and gold lining of the tree skirt underneath it, and ornaments hanging on the tree, coordinately arranging it in order and a sparkling golden star on top, perfectly bringing in the elements of the evergreen tree.
✧ Though you didn't get to touch the tree, you didn't mind, you knew he knew what was doing, and the tree looked great. "It's perfect," you said, smiling at him. Looking up at the beautiful tree.
✧ You loved Christmas, saving recipes for Christmas for special desserts you wanted to surprise Coriolanus with. You were busy in the kitchen, making some gingerbread walls, putting the dough onto the baking tray, and loading it into the oven. Arranging the edible decoration of candy to decorate, you made sure to attentively make sure the small candies matched the ones of the tree. Red, gold and already made white. You hoped Coriolanus would like it, and you baked some cookies on the side for him.
✧ Christmas was something that shouldn't disappoint, it did come only once a year, and the biggest holiday of the season for most, setting the timer, as you took off the apron around your waist, being surprised by Coriolanus with his hands around your waist, his lips connecting with yours, bending yourself towards his kiss.
✧ Spending Christmas with Coriolanus, he would always surprise you with a mistletoe with a steamy kiss, his hands around your waist.
✧ Coriolanus would love to surprise you with big gifts, like diamond bracelets, necklaces, shoes, or expensive fabrics. Christmas day, he would just shower you with gifts, the maids and Butlers lining up to show you the special gifts he purchased. Your eyes glowing with delight, crossing your legs at looking the perfectly wrapped and ribbon tied gifts.
✧ It wouldn't be Christmas without a Christmas dinner, all kinds of food, luxurious and delicious on the grand table, sitting horizontally away from Coriolanus, your eyes sparkling with awe, with the surprise he had given you. "Corio, is this all for me?" you questioned, as he nodded. Well, he had to treat the prize jewel of Panem to glorious things, and second to that the mother of offsprings.
✧ You would of course have a gift for Coriolanus, a special one. One that you thought of with time and even asked his cousin, Tigris. Holding a special box hidden within a gift you wanted to surprise him like he did with you.
✧ Soon giving the special gift to him, butterflies fluttering into your stomach, feeling your palms sweat, and an anxious feeling circling you. His slender finger opened up the red satin box, and his eyes widened at what was inside a bejeweled snow charm bracelet. "Do you like it...Corio" you asked hesitantly, "It's perfect," he said, taking out the jewelry, "You sure?" you questioned.
"Yes, it's wonderful" He smiled his eyes flickering at you, "I'll wear it, every single day" He looked at the sparkling jewelry on his wrist, "I'm glad..let me put it on for you" You smiled, getting up, inching towards him. Placing yourself on his lap, and delicately putting the piece of jewelry around his wrist, "Thank you darling" you place your hands on the side of your face, kissing him... his hands on your waist.
Before you withdrew, "Merry Christmas, Corio" you whispered..."Merry Christmas, my dove" he pushed the strands of your hair over your ear, his eyes staring at yours, as the crackling fire rang out.
✿ good girl
`` a/n: this fic is inspired by princessbellecerise and sugerapplefairy, low-key reader being a little cute bimbo is living rent-free in my head like omg, like it's living in my brain.
warning: misogynistic coriolanus, smut, objectification, dumbification, creampie, spanking, bathroom sex, groping, kitchen sex, reader being a housewife, reader being a stupid little bimbo + nymphet.
pairing: coriolanus x bimbo!reader
word counter: 1.2k
ਏਓ ` Imagine being coriolanus stupid bimbo wife, it is easy to be with him. He gives you a stress-free, lavish life with money, expensive things, and jewelry. It was an easy choice for Coriolanus to pick you, you were attractive, with perfect curves sculpting on your petite body and dreamy tits propping up on your chest. It was easy to control your little empty head, he controlled what you do, money, and everything making sure your being a good little girl.
ਏਓ ` A good little housewife for him, you cook, clean for him, and wearing a cute light dress, and no panties or a bra underneath because you knew coriolanus hated not having easy access to you. Every time coriolanus came home, you were always awake, running a bath for him, but what would always happen would be him fucking you in the tub, soap suds covering your body. Your hands holding the sides of the bathtub, as he abused your cunt, mewls rolling off your tongue.
ਏਓ ` When coriolanus is stressed, you would always know what to do, taking his cock down your throat making you gag, tears pricking your waterline, moaning out. His hands force you down the shaft of his cock, facefucking you. Rolling your tongue at the tip of his cock, your lips bitten up, your mascara smudging your blushy cheeks, making eye contact with him as you took him whole.
ਏਓ ` he loves either making you swallow his cum or giving you a facial, his cock spurring cum onto your little cute face and your perky chest. On your knees like a whore for him, coated in his warm hot cum.
ਏਓ ` He loves groping your chest when he stressed, his rough hands twisting your delicate nubs making you squirm from his touch, clenching around nothing. Even fingering you, he enjoys dumbing you down, it stroked his ego. Your little screams and yelps, boosting his ego.
ਏਓ ` Your little play doll for him to change, shape, and form. He programs you to do things he wants, and you just nod your head at his words though you don't understand them, just giving him a smile on your lips. A sexual object for him to put his cock in and breed, as he spreads your legs apart, your delicate fingers already spreading your pussylips for him, ready to take his cock inside of you. Biting your lip, rolling your eyes as he plunges into you. Harsh comments slipped out of his mouth like 'Slut', 'whore' or 'Bitch' as he harshly fucked you, almost making you bleed.
ਏਓ ` When he's working on important papers for work, you would be his cocksleeve, his cock stuffed into your wet cunt. Slopping sounds coming from you, as he did his work. His cock bulging in your stomach, squirming around. Your cheeks being flushed, and your lips bitten up, all red. Your nipples poked out from the light fabric of the dress, whines coming out from your mouth and him just ignoring you as you tried to move but everytime he would purposely smack his pelvis into you, making you jolt.
ਏਓ ` Coriolanus loves to see his bimbo wife all dolled up in lingerie or short-dressed, making sure to order a bunch for you and giving you an extra amount of money to buy the special lingerie he likes. Bunch of reds, pink, and whites. All lacy, with bows, ribbons, some tights, and garters. Your body lying down on the bed, all dressed up for him to just ruin you.
ਏਓ ` Imagine being in the kitchen, making dinner for him and his hands just all over you, his lips on your neck, and him grinding on your ass. It was super hard for you to stay focused, trying to make him stop but you knew he wouldn't just for you to bend over, your dress flipped and fucked raw, his cock slipping in and out of you, your face on the cold porcelain counter.
ਏਓ ` He loves to edge you, slapping his cock onto your clit, watching you as you writhe being desperate to be filled.
ਏਓ ` He loves to punish you for stupid things just to emphasize his control over you, making sure you crawl on all fours, in your cami dress, while he sits on a red velvety couch, as you crawl to him looking up at him, with a sad expression, tears dripping down on your cheeks. You felt guilt about what you did, though you didn't know it yourself. Laying on your stomach, bent over on his lap. Your body was almost bare, just a light dress covering you. As he spanks you, your body jolts from the pain, fat tears dripping from your eyes, his hands slapping the plush of your ass. Your whines falling deaf on his ears.
ਏਓ ` When Coriolanus fucks he loves pulling by your hair, forcing you up as he plunges into you further, doggy style, his cock kissing your cervix deliciously. His finger slipped into your mouth, gagging your moans, being forced to breathe through your nose, his cock snapping into you.
ਏਓ `Coriolanus always track your cycle, making sure to cum into you a lot when your ovulating, so you'll be pumped with his warm cum burrowing into you further. He would love to see your stomach filled with cum, awaiting a baby. Your breast filled with milk, and your belly all round and big, even if you were pregnant he would still fuck you, just more gently, but still hard.
mistress
a/n: Nothing for the moment, but I will try to set up a schedule for when I'm going to post my next fic so it can be organized. I lowkey love the mature version of coriolanus snow, he is like Daddy or like zaddy, just AHHHHHH.
warning: penetration, p in in the v, cheating, breeding kink, reproductive coercion, baby trapping, toxic dynamics, spanking, misogynistic coriolanus. (maybe considered as dark content)
pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
word counter: 2.4k
pt 2 of goverment hooker
taglist`` @slut4ethan
A few months passed, then years...
—since your sexual encounter with the gentleman you met at the bar, you had stayed on the low until meeting him, you wouldn't lie to yourself that your heart yearned to see him again, though being a peacekeeper couldn't guarantee if he was still here. Though you went back to your old habits, bringing in men and seducing them to fill your pockets up for sexual favors, you never felt anything inside the relationship. It was just a casual exchange for goods and pleasure.
If they were well fooled by you, they would do more to win your heart like gifting diamonds, jewels, fancy dresses, heels, and expensive, luxurious bags. With a card, always handwritten to you in black pen with a bouquet of flowers, maybe roses, peonies, or tulips. Usually red, or pink, colors that represent 'romance' or 'love'. You manage to catch on to when men would send you these gifts, you enjoyed being showered in lavish things but it would bore you a little,
Due to your interesting status, you manage to sneak into important parties, the fancy ones you like. The ones with champagne and the aged wine were expensive, the big chandeliers with jewels and diamonds hanging from them, and the huge halls with delicate porcelain vases and tiles. You got an invite from one of the fools of men you were messing around with, some known politician in Panem. Walking into the gracious hall, wearing a black cocktail dress, and some diamond jewelry given to you by your several misters, clutching onto your matching black purse.
Small chatter fills up the hall, as you steal a glass of champagne from the waiters passing it around. You still had to walk with the fool you tricked, holding onto his bicep lovingly, fluttering your lashes at him, and laughing at his empty 'witty' comments. "Darling, what is going on right now" You said, pursing your lips together, you knew he would answer your cute antics. "The new president of Panem is here," the man said, you looked at him, fluttering your eyes back at the new information. "Who is here, darling" You pushed your chest on his arm, starting to make him flustered with your inappropriate antics, "Sir Coriolanus Snow" he responded, your eyes widened at the family name, backing up from his arm. The name of the man you lay with years ago, "He's here?" you exclaimed, and he nodded. "Oh my," you stopped, "We will meet him, will we?" you twirled your hair, looking up at him with your doe eyes.
This would be your big chance, your chance at stopping boring yourself around useless men, your life would be filled with riches, a lavish lifestyle, and expensive jewelry. Even being the First Lady of Panem made you feel thrilled and better than fooling around with a stupid man who isn't faithful to their wife. "We will, my beaut," he said, before wrapping his around your waist, it made me feel disgusted. As we sailed across the halls, talking to other politicians and influential people, until we saw the devil himself.
Coriolanus Snow...the now-elected president of Panem. Your eyes sparkled in delight, though the encounter was long ago, he looked well-prim and mannered. He was wearing a red suit, a tucked collared shirt with matching dress pants, and his hair was longer than the peacekeeper's mandatory buzz cut. It looked like he was talking to another group of well-off people, you watched him as he talked to them and finished up their conversation. Before he walked away, it looked into the hall out of the ballroom. It was your chance to talk to him, maybe he'll remember you. Some part inside of you doubted but the other side was hopeful, "Darling, I need to powder up my nose, I'll be gone for a few minutes" You turned towards him, and he nodded. You clutched onto your bag and followed Coriolanus out of the ballroom.
Maybe just maybe he'll remember you, I mean how can he not. Not after a promise he made to you, well maybe a promise, you were too fucked to realize what he said but it was something.
It was awkward following him, would he think of you being a stalker, you weren't, you followed him until an empty hall before he stopped mid-way, "You don't have to follow me around, you know" He spoke, making chills run down your spine. Pushing back a strand of your hair over your ear, "You probably don't remember don't you?" You cocked your head to the side, you watched him as he turned around ever so gracefully on his heels, looking straight at you. Your cheeks flushed, he looked mature, rougher around the edges. His blue eyes iris looking at your e/c ones.
"Pardon?" He asked doubt starting to fill you up, "Not even the promise of you coming back to me, fill you with any ideas?" You cocked your eyebrows, giving him a little smile. Holding your hands together to your stomach, "Y/N?" his eyes widen at the new fact, "In the flesh" you smirked, raising your hands up. "You never were going to come back, weren't you" You faked a sad tone in your voice, flickering your eyes to your hands, walking up to him. He didn't respond, "Never thought a Peacekeeper would be the next President of Panem, " You rambled on, flickering your doe eyes at him, "So, how are you now?" you smiled, "I'm well off now" He responds, he put his hand inside of his pockets. "Well, I'm sorry what happened to your friend, I heard about the hanging" he sniffed, you watched if would tense up at the words, but he didn't at all.
"Well, he was setting up a rebellion against the capitol, so he would be punished for it" He finished, it was harsh for him to say that about a friend, you thought he cherished, it was a man that was from the capitol, never thought someone like that would care about district people at all.
"That was harsh, ain't it?" You pursed your lips, "No, it wasn't harsh enough" He said, his eyes flickering at you. You played with the bracelets on your wrist, "—And, you Y/N..." you turned your head at him as your name came out of your lips, "I have done my research on you fully"
"Oh really" you cocked your eyebrows, you were amused at what he was going to say, "Your the capitol's slut, a woman who slept her way through the capitol, with politicians, congressmen, and senators, how many do you trick for gifts and money" There was an odd tension between you it was thick, "Your right, but not as accuracy. I don't sleep my way through, I only trick, I'm not just a whore you know" you pouted and placed your hands on your hips. "So, does it make you think differently of me" You put your hand underneath his chin, surprisingly he didn't curve you or stop your attempt, his eyes looking at yours. Feeling his hands on the sides of your hips. "Not at all" He whispered, before he pulled you into a kiss. His tongue explored your cavern, and you felt yourself getting aroused by the hungry kiss. You knew your plan was bound to work, putting your arms around his neck, withdrawing from his lips. "We shouldn't do here, it would be improper" You looked away, feeling shy in front of him.
"The hall is going to be over soon, so tell your mister or whatever man you brought here to go home alone, you'll be coming with me" You felt his breath against your ear, making you feel sensitive underneath your dress. You felt his hands trailing your waist, "Alright" you flickered your eyes to him, "I will" you tracing the shape of his collar and coat.
The car ride was filled with tension, the car was luxurious though. You enjoy it very much. Feeling butterflies in your stomach, your cheeks flushed. He was already wrapped around your fingers, it was an easy hook and reel. Feeling the car halting at a big manor, your eyes brighten up, "We're here" He stated, the door opening up for you, as you stepped out of the car, and walked with him inside the estate. The estate was beautiful, with blossoms, and freshly trimmed grass and trees around the houses. Stepping onto the perfect cobblestone path with him, you bit your lips at the thought.
The guard in front opened the manor's large doors, as you walked in, clutching your bag to your stomach. "It's a beautiful estate" your eyes darted around the luxurious manor.
"It is" he responded back, before looking at you, his heels trailing back to your front. "Let's go towards the bedroom" Your eyes brightened, as you felt his hands on yours pulling you into his chambers, your heels echoing around the large mansion. The door were closed by him and locked. He pulled you into a kiss, his hands rubbing your waist and your curves hungrily, the kiss making your knees feel weak. His hands trailing the zipper of your dress, you were too busy with his lips on yours to comprehend what was going on. Feeling the cocktails dress dropping and your lingerie being shown to him, as he withdrew. "You weren't going to show that guy, all of that were you?" He muttered, "No" feeling the strap of your bra falling to the side, "Not at all" you smiled, feeling his hands on your body, as he carried you. Your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, as he kissed you further.
He pushes you onto the enormous bed, his hands rubbing on you. His hands trailed down to your panties rubbing your clit harshly, making you mewl, "Corio" you whined, your chest heaving up and down. Finger dipping into you further inside, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers, you grind your hips to his hand, feeling your skin heat up, desperate for a release.
Squirming against him, "Your so desperate, aren't you" he mocked, His fingers plunging in and out of you several times making you feel immense pleasure. "Corio, please I'm close" you whined, feeling your hands gripping onto the sheets. Feeling a wave of pleasure coming down on you, squirting out. Your chest heaving, you looked at him withdrawing, his fingers dripping with your juices. Watching him lapping his tongue at his fingers, making you press your thighs together.
He took off your black panties, slowly. You lifted your legs as he fully took it off. "Take it all off, Y/N" He whispered, his eyes looking at your almost bare body, you clipped out your bra, dropping it to the floor, your breast being displayed to him. "Do you like them, Corio?" you fluttering your eyes at him, propping your chest up. You looked at his awaiting form, and your eyes dragged to his lower abdomen area tightened up in his dress pants. Cocking your head to the side, "I need you, Corio" you purposely slurred your words, "Please" watching him unbuckling his belt, and taking off his boxer before he mounted on top of you, your back on the bed. You spread your pussy lips for him to align himself in you.
Feeling him inserting himself into you, sinking into your clenching walls. Your throat ripped out a wanton string of moans, it felt like his cock got bigger, his cock stretching you out deliciously. His low growl tickled your ear before he started moving, massaging your inner walls. His cock fucking into your cunt, sloppy sounds filling up his chambers, everything feeling hot around you. Your plan was working out, no condoms just raw sex. You just need him to cum into you, and you were guaranteed to get something of Coriolanus. His hands on your hips as he thrust into you, feeling his cock brushing your cervix making you jolt, "Fuck" you cursed, opening your legs further for him, his pelvis slapping yours. His balls swinging onto your lower ass. You squirmed under his touch, his hands touching your chest. Rubbing your nipples, harding against his fingers.
His rough hands groped your chest, biting down on your lips. Your swollen clit, being abused with his hand and your chest. You choked out a sob, his brutal pace making you feel weak, your eyes dropping down. Your tongue lulled out, as he fucked into you, biting marks into your neck, chest, and stomach. Gripping onto your waist harshly, tears pricking on your waterline, his hands dancing from the swollen nubs of your chest to your neck, as he lightly presses, making you tense up holding his arm, your eyes rolling back, his hips rutting into you.
Your panting echoed through the room, his pace didn't stop at your tears going down your cheek, your black mascara bleeding through, your lipstick was smeared. Everything on your body was sensitive, "Corio, please—" you puff out, before he flipped you over, your face onto the soft pillows, your hips up in the air, the cool air hitting your pussy.
Before he continued to abuse your cunt, his hips fucking into you, his cock touching parts of you, kissing your cervix deeply, making you wail, the sheet already messy. His hair sticking onto his forehead, sweat dripping down from his body, your well-manicured nails grasping the sheet. "I'm close" He groaned, feeling his hands landing on your ass. Making you jolt, several of them onto the plush of your ass. The pain makes you squirm, your cunt dripping. His arms pulling you into a chokehold close to his chest, feeling hot thick liquid filling you up, looking at your flat stomach filling up your cum. Your doe rolling back at the sudden warm feeling that didn't stop. Before he released you, your body bounced on the bed.
Feeling him withdrawing from you, and cum dripping from you. your body trembling, feeling your legs numbing down. Coriolanus body on top of you feeling his soft member on your ass, "Don't even think about it" He whispered, pushing a strand of your hair over your ears, "I know that's what you planned for" He danced his fingers on your collarbones, 'N-no" you managed to stutter out, "Don't lie my dove, isn't that the reason you follow me or had your eyes on me" He trailed on, "I just missed you, Corio" you lied through your teeth, "Don't lie, it doesn't suit you.." he touched your chin.
"Why did you do it?" You mumbled, "How could I stop, it so hard not to imagine you swollen with my baby" He said, "Besides—
Thats all your good for"
Matrimony
Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.7K words
SMUT 18+ ONLY. unprotected sex. possessiveness, flirting, drinking, body image/too tight dress, gaslighting.
THE WEDDING. FINALLY. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.
The sheets in the large hotel bed were soft and smelled so clean. They lacked the heavy rose smell that lingered in the Snow home. It was a welcome change of pace.
Too bad [Y/N] had hardly slept a wink in them. She was too nervous. It was the day of her wedding, after all.
She didn’t hate Coriolanus. She had before, but she didn’t now, not really. Coriolanus had slept well last night, which he rarely did. He only slept a few hours a night too often. [Y/N] thought her nerves had increased due to the proximity of the wedding, Coriolanus’ had subsided as the day drew closer because it was likely that he thinking he was one day closer to fully having [Y/N] under his thumb. But whoever knew what Coriolanus was thinking?
[Y/N] was worried about saying I love you and I do. She knew Coriolanus didn’t want her to be so anxious about it and reminded her, with a kiss to her forehead each time, that she could do it. He loathed being supportive, but he was getting better at pretending. It was less exhausting for him now.
If nothing else, tonight would be a party and a party meant she would drink and eventually she would blackout, if she was lucky. And Coriolanus would get her back upstairs to their hotel room and fuck her good and hard, so he would be happy. And they would wake up still wed the next morning. And he would be still be haughty and she would still be discontented. And that would be the first day of the rest of their lives.
[Y/N] had watched Coriolanus leave quietly through the door nearly an hour before. The few moments of rest she was able to get from her night of sleep ceased when he pulled his arm off of its nightly home on her waist. He had turned over his shoulder to look at her from the door before he left. One final good, long look. It was funny. Coriolanus never took the time to look back at her. [Y/N] snapped her eyes shut when Coriolanus rocked his weight back onto his heels. [Y/N] hoped he hadn’t seen her blush or fluttering eyelashes. [Y/N] got so excited at the simplest gesture from him. If she were a less careful woman, she may have almost smiled.
He looked at me.
The brief joy was gone with Coriolanus and he was now long gone. [Y/N] finally rolled over to step out of the bed. Her new silk white nightgown alluded to her future that evening. [Y/N] sighed. Her hand crunched against something paper beside her. Coriolanus must have left something. [Y/N] glanced to her right. A white rose from the vase he had requested on the bedside table, free of thorns. [Y/N] smirked. Of course. There was also a note in his curly, slanted script.
Darling,
Big day. It’s likely the next time I see you will be at the alter. Remember, you have nothing to be nervous about. I’ve got you.
And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. You’ve got dancing to do.
C.B.S.
He was so good at baiting her into comfort that [Y/N] almost forgot it was baiting. She took at deep breath. I’ve got you. Coriolanus still had not seen the dress, but his educated guess about the corset was spot on. He was always spot on. He paid too close attention. It was shocking that Coriolanus could oscillate from obvious manipulation and intimidation to the man that cared for [Y/N]. Unless the second part was more elaborate manipulation too.
[Y/N] went to the bathroom to piss.
Dark spots on her neck and chest greeted her. They never really faded away. Coriolanus would find new places for them, or mark over the old ones. [Y/N] liked how they looked and certainly how they felt to receive. But what a pain they were to conceal! She should have known better and acquired a high-necked gown way back when. It was a winter wedding, so it wouldn’t have looked out of place.
The beauty parlor would be able to work some of that Capitol magic on them.
[Y/N] looked in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom with the pristine black tile and giant bathtub. She smiled vapidly. That was that. By the end of the day, she would officially be a wife. Her identity would be defined by Coriolanus.
Once, she smiled because her poor decisions would reflect boldly on Coriolanus. Now, [Y/N] worried because it was the other way around. She was a permanent extension of Coriolanus and his aspirations and desires the second she had his name.
She sighed. For better or worse.
[Y/N] crept down to the hotel lobby in large green sunglasses and a hotel robe. It was turquoise. It was a terrible color. Coriolanus would have hated it. She lost her purple sunglasses after the Flickerman interview. Coriolanus did like that. He hated those sunglasses too. The green ones were better to him. A small part of [Y/N] liked knowing that Coriolanus was pleased by what she wore.
She glanced around. No sight of Coriolanus. She didn’t want to break tradition. There was no more room for things going wrong in her life. Across the lobby, [Y/N] went towards the beauty parlor and the wedding shop. She had gone through so many catalogs of dresses and hairstyles and everything must be perfect, only for her to allow to be handled by beauticians who were strangers at the last minute.
Then the hands landed on her waist. [Y/N] gasped, readying herself to scream. The hands pulled her to firm chest and the hands turned into arms, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back beside a ficus and a fern.
She looked down and saw the hands. Pale white hands with rings and a loose bracelet.
Coriolanus Snow, rigid, but never one for following the rules.
“Coriolanus!” [Y/N] squeaked. “You’re not supposed to see me yet. Let go!”
“That’s a silly old story. Saw you this morning.” He whispered with a smirk, holding [Y/N] waist tight.
“It’s… yeah, but—“
“Thought I wasn’t supposed to see the dress. But you—“
“I don’t wanna ruin today—“
“Fine! Fine! Just let me look at you one more time and I’ll let you go,” Coriolanus said. He spun [Y/N] to face him easily. His eyes slid from her eyes through glasses, down her face, her neck, her breasts, back up to her neck. That’s where his eyes greedily stopped. His finger tickled the skin on the right side of her neck where he had left a dark bruise. [Y/N] laughed a little and slotted her face into his hand.
“No thanks to you, the ladies in the parlor will have to work harder on me today.” [Y/N] said, referencing the marks.
“Don’t cover them.” Coriolanus said simply.
“What?”
Coriolanus smiled softly. “Don’t cover them. You look very beautiful.”
“Yeah, didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Coryo. Could’ve fooled me,” [Y/N] smirked. “It’s our wedding.”
“So?”
“So…” There was no good argument. [Y/N] had done much worse before. They both knew that. She huffed.
“Fine,” he conceded. “Do whatever you want. I’m just saying, if I had to take my shirt off for some reason tonight, my back looks three times worse than your neck.”
[Y/N] blushed. “Yeah, but you eliminated your argument by saying that. Because you are wearing a suit. I’m wearing a low-cut dress.”
Coriolanus gritted his teeth. He was going to say something harsh. He refrained. “So the dress is low-cut?” He asked, raising a brow.
“Fuck!” [Y/N] exclaimed. “No. No more. I’m going,” she tried to pull away from Coriolanus. “Let me go. I’m going. I’ve ruined it,” she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You cursed us. We’re cursed. That’s bad luck.”
“If anyone cursed us,” Coriolanus let go of her waist. “It was you, Darling.” He called as she walked away. [Y/N] shuddered as crossed her arms. He hadn’t meant it, had he? God, he loved it when he made her nervous.
—
[Y/N] had some bridesmaids. She did not love that she had to share the stage and the big fluffy dresses with the ladies, but here she was. Lysistrata was her Maid of Honor. She wanted it to be Clemensia, but Coriolanus said no.
After that, Clemensia refused to be in the wedding party at all. Too bad.
[Y/N] thought she looked good in her white snowy gown. Lovely even. But she was too nervous to focus on much of that beauty.
Everyone would nitpick her dress, her hair, her body, why she of all people was unbreakably becoming the Capitol’s darling’s Darling, among other things. The pressure was high. [Y/N] had not been able to make herself cry either, which was unusual for her. The woman wanted to claw at her skin and tear it off from the itching, nerves and impatience.
Would Coriolanus finally love her tomorrow? Or would he ignore her now that she was belted in permanently as his plaything. [Y/N] didn’t want to be used only when Coriolanus wanted. She would have bitten her nails if they weren’t so well-manicured.
[Y/N] inhaled. Her corset was too tight and she was so nervous. The breath came out ragged. It didn’t relieve her the way that a deep breath was supposed to. She thought back to Coriolanus’ note: And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. She hadn’t listened well enough. [Y/N] did not want him to be mad at her. She reached back with shaking hands to try and loosen it, but she couldn’t manage.
I’ve got you.
When she sat down on the bench in the hallway outside of the venue to wait for her father to walk her down the aisle, the pressure shift made the bottom half of her dress’ corset tightened more. The dress was stunning, it was a true. A ballgown, a favorite style of [Y/N]’s. It was indeed low-cut with a beaded white corset pressing her breasts higher. It didn’t make her feel whorish, but it helped her feel beautiful. Over that, she had a wintery long-sleeved translucent mesh top. It was white and was covered with speckles that looked like snow in the places where snow might catch as it sprinkled down. Her veil was less traditional and didn’t cover her face completely. [Y/N] felt freer in it, and Coriolanus wouldn’t have to wrestle with it. Under it, she wore the red heels she had worn at their engagement party. It was sentimental, but that night was one of the first actual lovely memories she had of Coriolanus. Was that memory meant to be lovely? [Y/N] was unsure. She decided she would remember it that way. If she didn’t, she would lose her mind at what she had done to herself.
I’ve got you.
Everything had to be lovely.
The wedding had to be lovely.
“[Y/N],” Her father said, approaching her in a loud colored tuxedo. Gaudy. Tacky. “Stand. Let me look at you,” He muttered, extending his arm to her. [Y/N] did as she was told like she was a child again. The man could barely look at her. They had spoken for the first time since their engagement party at the rehearsal dinner the day prior. Her father was pleased to leave the burden of his disappointment on another man. [Y/N] shifted and did a small spin for her father before taking his arm. She could hear the orchestra playing inside the venue along with the chatter. [Y/N]’s looming father reached behind her and grabbed the ties of her corset and pulled the ends tighter. Her breath hitched. “That’s better.” Her father said. Then, he proceeded to the door to finally give her away.
[Y/N]’s head swam. She had already been laced into the damn corset for what felt like too long but in reality had been a bit over an hour. She coped by taking shallow breaths from her chest and staring straight ahead, unblinking.
The doors parted. [Y/N] hadn’t even realized that had been pulled in front of the doors to the event hall itself. All white and red, like most winter weddings were meant to be, but white and red the way Coriolanus (and by extension [Y/N] now) liked. The bouquet, forgotten, was held straight and clutched tighter. [Y/N] lacquered her smile back on. Being in front of everyone she had ever known made her dizzy. Everyone she had ever known gasped and smiled in delight at her. The music changed. She walked. She wanted to puke. Eventually, she was at the alter. Her ribs ached. Her chest burned. [Y/N] smiled wider.
Coriolanus. His loose blonde curls were determinedly tamed, slicked behind his ears. His unruly hair never did what anyone commanded, so it was an impressive feat. Black tux, white bow tie, red rose; standard. His shoes were also red. Those were new. Did he think about her red shoes from that night often too? Had he snooped and seen her shoes in her tote bag last night even though she told him not to? It must have been his intuition. Best not to read into it. Coriolanus Snow liked red.
He also wore gloves. White and dapper. He looked so clean. Those gloves made sure not a trace of the cruelty he was capable of was visible. No trace left behind.
[Y/N]’s father deposited her in front of Coriolanus with an obligatory kiss to her forehead and walked away. She couldn’t recall walking to the alter. Her knees shook. Coriolanus was tall. Had he always been so tall?
Effortlessly, Coriolanus leaned forward and wrapped his hands behind her waist. [Y/N] thought he had just meant to place his hands on her too-narrow waist to greedily admire what he was capable of manipulating her body into. Instead, he loosened it.
I’ve got you.
What a beautiful scene that must have been. [Y/N] inhaled deeply through her nose as if she had risen from the dead. The world around her felt real again. Everything looked real. “Thank you.” She gasped.
Coriolanus kissed her forehead, much like her father had. Power shown as repetition and reversal of action. “I thought I told you not to cinch it so much.” He whispered softly. Coriolanus tipped her chin up with the fingers under his white leather glove. The pictures of that moment would later be so beautiful.
“I didn’t.”
“Somebody did, Darling… Silly. These are pretty, though.” Coriolanus whispered away from prying microphones. He dragged his finger across her neck, meaning some of the marks she had left uncovered on a stupid whim that was about to share a last name with her, but showcasing her pearl necklace instead.
“For you,” [Y/N] panted back sarcastically. “Can we get on with it?”
“Romantic.” Coriolanus scoffed and leaned away from [Y/N]’s ear. His shoulders unrolled to their full and staggering height, beautiful beast that he was. Coriolanus took [Y/N]’s hand that did not hold a bouquet of red roses in his. She swore she had imagined the circle Coriolanus has ghosted over the back of her hand.
The officiant of the wedding was beckoning everyone to sit. [Y/N] hadn’t realized the attendees had been standing. The officiant wore black as well. He was disgracefully old. [Y/N] looked out the massive picture window over Coriolanus’ shoulder. There was snow outside, too.
The old, frail man cleared his throat and held his arms open to the congregation. “A true lasting marriage requires effort, commitment, and unending understanding. As [Y/N] and Coriolanus declare their partnership on this day, we reflect on the meaning of partnership and its importance to a successful union. Partners, in life, think of one another as capable, but each arriving with their own special skills.” At these words, [Y/N] scoffed. She wondered if Coriolanus thought her capable. Coriolanus stared down at her. No love. No hatred either. He looked at her stoically. She wanted him to look down at her with something. Usually, he did. She wanted an iota of anything.
What happened to I’ve got you.
“Marriage is rarely equal. In marriage, you will often be required to honor commitments you cannot fully understand. The mark of a successful marriage is that you meet these commitments with patience, honesty, and love—even as you fail.
“Over time, you will realize that the burdens placed upon you by life are not loads to be carried—they are opportunities. Each day is an opportunity to be shared with your partner; the dawn of each day brings new experiences.”
[Y/N] felt like vomiting. This was burdensome. Not a burden, a weight. Would Coriolanus help her lift it? Or would he leave her to roll the boulder up the hill each morning on her own? He promised that he would; that he had her back, that he would help, that she would never be left to struggle alone again.
“Your rings and your vows, please.” The old man sputtered. Coriolanus removed his gloves to tuck into his pocket and exposed his beautiful hands. [Y/N] wondered if he had ever played piano. Likely not. He did not own a piano. His hands indicated that he would have been natural to it.
He procured two white gold rings from his breast pocket. One thicker for his own large hand, one daintier with three very small rubies to go with the massive ruby in the daintier still engagement ring. Coriolanus passed her the one meant for his finger.
Now came the part that had [Y/N] worried. Both the words themselves and the memorization of such words. Coriolanus was to begin. Naturally.
Coriolanus inhaled deeply. His chest jumped under his white tie. [Y/N] nearly guessed he was nervous. How could a creature like that get nervous? “I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee, [Y/N] [L/N], to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He spoke deceptively calmly. His voice boomed with an authoritarian edge. He had a completely different voice in public than he did in their bedroom. After the words were passed his lips, he smiled. Finally. Finally, he attempted to reveal a feeling. He slid the ring down her left ring finger to its final resting place.
“I, [Y/N] [L/N], take thee, Coriolanus Snow, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey,” the word that had made her so nervous. Once she said it, everything felt much lighter. The hardest part was over. [Y/N] took that last step to give herself to Coriolanus. He had everything of hers, and now he had her ring finger too. She felt she had rushed the beginning of this vow, so she took her time with the little that remained. “Till death us do part.” [Y/N] concluded as a wife. She pressed his ring onto his ring finger. Slow. Coriolanus couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
[Y/N] dragged her eyes from the hand that dried her tears and gripped her throat, to the eyes that hungered for every morsel of her. [Y/N] handed her bouquet to the woman, whichever one stood closest behind her, and clasped both of her hands against Coriolanus’, like she was supposed to. She would be the best at doing what she was supposed to. From this day forward, [Y/N] would find that she was capable at something and do it effortlessly for Coriolanus. There was no other option.
Lastly, the Capitol’s undying wedding tradition. Handfasting. The officiant spoke again with clinical and precise rhythm. “Handfasting is an old and venerable tradition that dates back more than ten thousand years. As I wrap this ribbon around your hands, I want you to think about what you think marriage means.” The traditional narrow red ribbon cinched together their palms like a corset.
Marriage was… what, a partnership? A trap, a cage… [Y/N] thought back to the beginning of the ceremony. A burden? No. An… Opportunity. Coriolanus Snow was an opportunity. He took a chance with her and her bullshit everyday. She did the same. Everyday would be an opportunity that she would take at all costs. [Y/N] would make it work.
I’ve got you.
“Marriage will deepen your commitment to one another and strengthen the respect and support you each bring to your relationship.
“Your challenge is to grow with one another, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes as a team. With each wrap of the ribbon, I give my blessing as an officiant that your marriage will be so. Let this bond be strong. Let this bond be eternal. I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”
As the pair’s hands were cinched even nearer together, [Y/N]’s eyes caught Coriolanus’ in prolonged eye contact. They both looked light. Relieved. It was over. The hard part was over. She swore she even saw Coriolanus smile— not smirk.
“Mr. Snow, you may now kiss your bride.”
Coriolanus did not waste even a second. He tipped his bound hands up and used the force of the action to pull [Y/N] to him. Their lips met in a searing, stinging kiss. Coriolanus pressed down against her, [Y/N] neck strained from turning her head up.
—
Everything was a blur. There was the dance floor, the drinks Coriolanus kept bringing, the hand locked on [Y/N]’s waist. The delicious cake. [Y/N] had smashed a forkful into Coriolanus’ pristine pale face. He had looked both surprised and upset, but he didn’t say anything like the good husband he was becoming. Plus he got the opportunity to get [Y/N] back and do twice the damage. He did this swiftly. Everyday in a marriage was an opportunity. Or something.
[Y/N] had been introduced to many important people Coriolanus worked with but he kept her too drunk and dumb to do much more than nod and keep her up arm protectively glued to Coriolanus’ arm. Especially around some of the prettier woman. She hated seeing his white teeth flash at those other woman. How could they smile like that at him with his wife in her gown right there?
[Y/N] stumbled to the bar for a whisky sour. While she waited on the bartender to mix her drink, she glanced through the bright flashing lights at her husband. The fair-haired man was sitting at their table, chatting with one of his University ‘friends’ that had stopped by to wish them well. [Y/N] glanced back at the bartender.
“Congrats.” The bartender said. [Y/N] squinted at his name tag but barely registered what it said.
“Thank you.” She replied, folding her hands on the bar.
“Some wedding. Very beautiful. You look very beautiful. That’s a hell of a dress, too. Is it hard to move in?”
“No, not really.” [Y/N] smiled slightly.
“Your husband’s been back and forth the the bar a ton. He pretty drunk by now?” Bold. Why had the bartender asked that?
[Y/N] her head. “Most of those were for me. So. How about that whisky sour, hm?” She said, her smile getting tighter and tighter-lipped.
“A man like that would make me wanna drink too.”
[Y/N] had spent much of her relationship with Coriolanus feeling that way, but hearing it from someone else made her upset. She did not like hearing anyone say a damn word about him. Only she was allowed to be upset about Coriolanus. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Excuse me?”
“He’s… He’s tough, no? Cold. Hard exterior. Guys like that freak me out. You seem very different from him. I mean, fuck. Look what he did to your neck. You let him do that? He make you do that?” He shrugged too casually. The stranger was taking much too long to mix a whisky sour. It was an easy drink. How many had he already unknowingly made for her tonight?
“Different maybe,” she started. “But he doesn’t freak me out at all. He doesn’t… Make me do things I don’t want to,” Lie. Not right now, but sometimes, lie. “You don’t know him.”
“Sure, sure, I’m just trying to make conversation.”
“Odd topic choice.”
“Is it?” The man smiled. “I’ve been to enough of these weddings to know that girls like you rarely fall for men like him. Usually, there’s some crying bride at the bar because her parents said they would disown her if she didn’t marry some guy like your blondie over there. You’re keeping it together fairly well, doll.”
“Make the damn drink.” [Y/N] replied.
“Jeez, lady. Just trying to—“
“I think the lady told you to make the damn drink,” Came Coriolanus’ voice and his arm squeezing squeezing like a vice around her waist. She didn’t know how much more that waist could take. “Darling, is this man bothering you?” He asked quietly.
If she said yes, the bartender’s tongue would be cut out, or worse. The young man didn’t know; he had been trying to be nice. But it felt so good when Coriolanus came to her rescue and she had to practice positive reinforcement every now and then.
[Y/N] decided she would do her favorite thing: cry. Coriolanus couldn’t ever ignore her tears. [Y/N] knew her husband loved to fix a bird with a broken wing like herself. She sniffled and blinked a few times, staring dead at the bartender, before the tears started to fall.
“Yes. He is bothering me.” She said. The bartender looked appalled at the psychotic display. Clearly, he had misread her situation. [Y/N] knew she was capable of being nearly as rotten as Coriolanus. This man standing in front of her was about to face the consequences of assumptions. [Y/N] looked up at Coriolanus and placed a hand on his chest. He understood exactly what she wanted. Causing their first scene as a married couple. Milestone.
Coriolanus tightened his grip on her. “Look,” Coriolanus squinted at the bartender’s name tag. “Brutus. Hm. Brutus, do you know what that name means?” He condescended.
“Strong.” The bartender replied, putting his shaker down cautiously.
“Really? Well, I suppose it could contextually. Though, I was under the impression it meant dull,” Coriolanus scoffed. “What have you done, Brutus, to upset my wife so much?” He said Brutus as if he were saying dull.
“N-nothing. Just making conversation.”
Coriolanus smirked and [Y/N]’s grin echoed his, but her teeth were straighter. They both liked it when they had someone uncomfortable enough to stumble over their words. “Just making conversation? Did he touch you, dear?” Coriolanus asked. The punishment for touching her would be losing a hand or two. The fellow made a decent drink. She didn’t want him to lose that gift.
[Y/N] sniffled, tugging at Coriolanus’ heartstrings. “No,” sniffle. “He was only running his mouth. He thinks I sh-shouldn’t have married you.”
Coriolanus dragged his blue eyes between [Y/N] and Brutus. “Why shouldn’t we be married?” Coriolanus asked too easily. It was a trap. Brutus shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. “No, please, go ahead. I’m just making conversation. What was it that you said to my wife, here? I’m curious now.”
There was silence. Brutus hung his head uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Sir. [Y/N] knew Coriolanus would like that.
“Jealous? Think you could please my wife better than I could? Am I on the right track?” Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips against weeping [Y/N]’s neck from behind as he spoke to Brutus.
Drunk and dumb from the stress, the alcohol and his touch, [Y/N] reached her hand up to tangle it into Coriolanus’s curls. He didn’t protest for once. Her fingers cut through his hair product and lodged in place, giving his hair a gentle tug. “How’s this for you?” Coriolanus murmured, staring at Brutus and touching [Y/N] disgustingly.
[Y/N] wasn’t sure if it lasted minutes or hours, staring the bartender down like that. Coriolanus pulled her into the lobby and up the stairs to their hotel room. She couldn’t remember exactly if Coriolanus had made the two of them say a proper goodnight to the remaining party attendees. She still had her shoes on, so she would settle for being impressed with herself for that.
Coriolanus unlocked the door to their room and propped it open with some difficulty.
“What are you doing?” She asked tiredly.
“Well, Mrs. Snow, you went on about so many little traditions this week, so I figured I would gift you this.” Coriolanus scooped [Y/N] clumsily into his arms and carried her over the threshold of the room. [Y/N] smiled at his gesture.
Coriolanus walked with her in his grasp until he set her down on the bed with a muted thump. He turned back to the door and closed it. [Y/N] stared up at Coriolanus as he returned. The jacket of his tux and his red shoes had vanished on his walk back.
[Y/N] was quite surprised that Coriolanus had remained in what seemed to be such a decent mood for him all day. The smile or smirk or snarl still lingered on his plush mouth. “Hi.” [Y/N] said.
“Hello,” Coriolanus replied, cocking his head. “That dress really is something else,” he said. His eyes wandered grotesquely over her body. “What did your family think?”
“Barely saw my mother. She was at the bottom of a bottle of posca. Father thought my corset was too loose.” She wiped the remaining wet spots from tears off of her cheeks.
Coriolanus nodded knowingly. “Ah, so you can follow instructions. It was him that locked you in that thing…” his eyes hadn’t moved from her breasts which threatened to spill from her top from laying at this angle. “May I help you out of it?”
She blushed red. “The note you left…” [Y/N] started. “Sweet, by the way. How did you know it was corseted. Did you peek?” She slurred.
“Lucky guess,” Coriolanus said too quickly for the remark to be truthful. “Do me a favor and obey your husband. Turn over. I want it off.”
[Y/N] popped off her memorable red heels and rolled gracelessly onto her stomach so that Coriolanus could undress her how he liked. He crept onto the bed and straddled her thighs with some difficulty from the dress’ bulk. His fingers got to work with the silk cord. [Y/N]’s ability to take low, full breaths increased with each movement of his nimble fingers. “Coryo, what’ll happen to that man from the bar…” [Y/N] quietly.
“That’s none of your concern. He’ll be dealt with for the way he spoke to you, don’t worry,” Coriolanus said, undoing the buttons of her dress now. “No one’s going to get away with speaking to my wife like that. Not now, not ever,” My wife, not you. Because he loved her and they were eternally bound. Or because she was an extension of his existence— nobody talked to him like that. Coriolanus manipulated her body like a doll to get her out of her wedding dress until she was down to her snow white lingerie and garters. “Fuck.” He said at the sight with eyes as wide as saucers.
“It’s adequate?”
“More than adequate,” In an instant, Coriolanus was on her. He was unclipping her garters and pulling her dampened lacy panties down. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Snow.”
“Fuck me. Please. Really. Not just fingers, or something.”
“Hm,” Coriolanus started. “I should marry you more often.”
Coriolanus pulled off his own trousers and boxers without complaint. [Y/N] sighed happily. “Tell me you love me.” She said.
“What?”
“I don’t care if you don’t mean it. Tell me you love me.” She stressed. [Y/N] wanted the silhouette of a normal wedding night even if it wasn’t one.
Coriolanus said his I love yous while he expertly rubbed [Y/N] clit, who cares if he was sincere or not. Neither one of them knew if he was sincere or not and either would do well enough.
The sex, however, was anything but transactional.
By the look of it, Coriolanus had long been hard in his pants. [Y/N] knew exerting some sort of power over that man at the bar in her honor would have gotten him all riled up. After noticing [Y/N] was already shockingly wet, he pressed his hands into the pillows beside her head and pushed his cock into her easily. “Damn. You’re so wet,” he grunted. Coriolanus scrunched his blue eyes shut. He began to set a pace; much slower than he normally would, less brutal too. He was gentle. Almost. Completely gentle was not a setting he came equipped with.
Coriolanus had never fucked [Y/N] without protection before (that [Y/N] could remember, at least). She made no move to stop him. They didn’t have any barriers left to worry about since they were married. Both silently agreed to never go back. He felt so much better in her this way.
[Y/N] moaned when his right hand moved between them to keep stimulating her. “Good, that’s good,” She said, reaching up to grip his shoulders. Her hands crept further up to grab his hair. She loved his hair, even if he fought hard against her about it so often. “Is this good for you?” [Y/N] whispered.
Coriolanus snapped his icy eyes open and plunged his head into her cleavage in reply. The lacy bra she wore was in his way, even if he thought it did [Y/N] beautiful favors. With one hand and his teeth, he ripped the bra right down the middle. “Better now,” he smirked darkly. Coriolanus slid one of her nipples past his lips. Coriolanus could conduct her moans and pants like a symphony. He knew exactly how to get his most desire response out of her. Coriolanus fucked and rubbed faster, but resisted sliding a hand around her throat and squeezing. At least for the first round as a married couple.
She could get used to the soft way he touched her. Mr. and Mrs. Snow. This caring front felt like it could almost last forever to [Y/N]. Too bad it was a front. She let out a high breathy gasp. The sound she knew he liked best.
Coriolanus was glad they had no plans tomorrow. One more sound like that and his hand would have no choice but to squeeze around her windpipe. She was always so beautiful like that. He changed his mind from weeks before as he looked at her from sucking at her nipples.
This is how he wanted to remember his Mrs. Snow. Makeup dripping, moaning beyond control, eyes rolled back and ripped and fucked out of her dress and lingerie. Because only he could make her feel like that for the rest of her life.
“I love you.” [Y/N] breathed, but she didn’t mean it, not really.
“I love you too.”
It was almost the truth.
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as always, apologies for the tags that did not work. love you all.
ਏਓ ` caged
``a/n: I'm back, guys I won't ever leave trust. But update I'm still obsessed with Coriolanus Snow, he is so hot, and sexy and I wanted him to degrade me. Tom Blyth is still my celebrity crush and I just wanted to write smut.
warning: p in the v, penetration, coquette style, lolita, objectification, exhibitionism, mirror sex, choking non-con to dub-con, and creampie. *** may be classified as dark content. (proofread??)
pairing: pervert!coriolanus x nymphet!reader
word counter: 3.1k
You were Sejanus's adoptive sister, you used to live in the district, specifically around District 6. His mother found you around the street, in an alleyway. You remembered cold, hungry, and almost dying from a cold you caught. You were unable to buy food or clothes with the low funds you had, resulting in stealing from people and food stalls.
Their family was your saving grace, being an orphan was hard being kicked out from an orphanage due to the high population rate there, no food, water, or clothes, no reason. Mostly Mr. Plinth who was a kind man indeed. He began to be your father, though he wasn't biological, he cared for you as your own, and you were happy for him to be your dad. From living on the streets to a place in the capitol. You would have never thought of ever seeing the clean capitol floors or walls, or even seeing the wonderful food on the table with the elegant style and decorum.
It took you some time for you get with and normalize yourself with the Plinth family. You couldn't use the word mom or dad, even father or mother because you didn't feel like you fit in always using Mr or Mrs with them.
You had to practice it yourself, hopefully make them your own traits of carrying yourself with elegance and suave. Mr Plinth hired a teacher to help you practice it, which you were grateful for. Even landing a spot in the capitol's academy, attending it with your older brother, Sejanus. Everything felt surreal to you, feeling yourself still in a dream looking in the mirror as you wore the blood-colored uniform, clipping a pink-colored butterfly hairpin in your hair to finish your pristine ponytail, fitting the appearance of a spotless uniform.
Though you were from the district, you managed to hide yourself from your origin, even with the relationship that people knew that you had with Sejanus. Everyone seemed to be more favorable towards you than him, flocking your desk before the professor came and class started. Talking to you, children from the rich, and the wealthy wanting to be your confidante. Your popularity rose from the ranks, and you were able to have a flourishing status in the academy. A person with good grades, elegance, and filled with poise.
The bell rang, and you took your books holding them close to your chest, walking out of the classroom. Hearing some footsteps coming closer to your walking form, your eyes flickering to Arachne. "So, are you excited for reaping day, it's in almost a month," She said, as you listened to her in response, nodding your head. Your heart starts beating faster as you hear of reaping day. Everything about reaping day triggered things in you, especially back living in the district. You heard of it, people going missing and plucked from their homes to be fighting in an arena for entertainment. You gulped, nodding to her words. "Yeah, it going to be a ball there, I wonder whats going what new things are going to happen, especially with Dr. Gaul" You replied, "Well, she knows how to entertain and put on a show," Aranche said, you guys simultaneously went into the dinning hall.
As you guys got some lunch being served, before you stopped in your steps, "What happened?" Arachne asked, as she stopped with you, "I'm going to sit with my brother" You stated, gesturing to him sitting alone, before she grabbed your biceps, "You're going to sit with him, Sejanus?" Arachne asked incredulously, "—Are you serious?" Aranche questioned, "Yes? Is there a problem?" You asked, cocking your eyebrows to the side, feeling Arachne's hands leaving your bicep before she walked away from you. As you walked to the table where Sejanus was sitting, another person was sitting next to him.
He was familiar to you, with curly blonde hair. He hung out with your brother often, his name was Coriolanus Snow—right? You continued to walk to the table, Sejanus's eyes flickered toward you, "Y/N, come join us!" He said that got the attention of the blonde man sitting next to him, you nodded, placed your tray on the table, and sat down on the chair that was across from Coriolanus.
"Oh, Y/N this is Coriolanus" Sejanus said, gesturing to Coriolanus, "Yes, how can I not, he's infamous at the academy" You smiled at the man who was staring at you, and he gave you a small smile before he went back to Sejanus, "So, is this your sister?" Coriolanus asked, "Yes, she little younger than us. I think a Junior, right Y/N?" Coriolanus just nodded at the statement.
Coriolanus was in awe of your appearance, he had known Sejanus for some time but never knew he had a sister as well. Your h/c and your eyes contrast with your smooth skin, enchanting your beauty, and your cute nose. He wonders what you would look like underneath the red uniforms, and how much your curves would show, trying to brush off the dirty, vulgar thoughts of his 'friend' little sister.
There were some talks about you especially among his male peers, mostly the vulgar gossip about how you would look bare, especially when your name was mentioned to Festus. He would always talk suggestively about you, though he didn't like Sejanus at all, he did like his sister. He was a hypocrite in his own words...he didn't like how men were looking at you and talking to you, suggestively, he actually hated it with a weird sense of rage every time your name was mentioned from someone's lips.
He attentively stared at you as you talked to Sejanus, your delicate fingers taking the ladle and dipping into the soup and putting it towards your dainty lips, drinking it. He watched as the soup went down your delicate throat, and gently put it back down. Everything you did was gentle and purified, you were an uncorrupted version of what came out of the capitol, that he wanted to protect.
"Coriolanus?" his eyes darted to voice, which was you, "is everything okay?" you questioned, cocking your head cutely. "Mhm," he nodded, the way you pronounced his name with every syllable with your dulcet tone, it felt like something inside him broke when you looked at him with your soft e/c eyes. "So—how long did you know my brother" you asked, "About a decade now" He answered truthfully, "Oh, that's nice" You gave him a little smile,
"Any hobbies, or such?" You asked, He found it cute that you asked him all the conversation starters in the book, it was adorable that you wanted to know more about him, and the hidden blush dusted on your cheeks. "Hunting" He answered, "I also enjoy hunting, what is your favorite season to hunt, I prefer spring to summer. You get to see all the flowers, fresh grass, and even baby animals" You exclaimed, ranting away as Coriolanus listened to your lovely voice.
He wondered how you would sound when your alone with him, but he couldn't stop his vulgar thoughts around you, it was always in his mind when he heard, saw, and listened to you. Made the blood rush all way to his dick. How embarrassing would it be to see his boner?
You and Coriolanus started hanging out more, spending more time together without Sejanus and you managed to form a relationship with him, becoming his friend but to his disdain he wanted more than a friendly relationship.
He would visit your home a few times but it was almost all for hanging out with Sejanus, but you didn't know that he only came to see you. You would greet him in one of your cute little pink lacy nightgowns, he found you precious at the informal act. The nightgown did hug your curves, it was something. that very something that got a rise out of him. Those rises that made him jerk off to you at night, the single thought of you with him alone and him stuffing you full with your pink lacy nightgown flipped over covering your face. Your soft-sounding, sweet mewls in his ears as he sinks himself into you, but it was only a fantasy as he spills himself on his hand, the thought of you taking all of his cum made him get aroused even more.
But this time Coriolanus had come back to your utter surprise, but what surprised you more was he wasn't with Sejanus at all, opening the doors to him, and nobody was home but you knew Sejanus was coming back in a few minutes or perhaps hours. "Oh, Coriolanus..Sejanus isn't here at the moment but you are welcome to come in—I think he'll be back in a few minutes" You said, opening the door to him as he walked in. You were still in one of your pink lacy nightgowns, and pink stockings, and your hair were in pigtails with pink bows on both of the sides.
You led him to the parlor room, "Would you like anything to drink? You asked, cocking your head to the side. "No, I'm alright." He answered, "You sure?' You questioned, he wondered if you act the same way if he were to marry you would you be a dutiful wife to him, making sure he's always taken care of—"Yes, I'm sure Y/N" he repeated, you nodded at him. "So, why are you here Coriolanus," you asked, "If you don't mind me asking, of course," you said, "To talk with Sejanus," he said, "Ohh". Coriolanus studies your appearance, the new jewelry that he noticed on your wrist, it wasn't something you would see in a jewelry store. It had a bunch of plastic rainbow loom-type beads on it. "What's that" Coriolanus gestures to your wrist.
You held the bracelet with your other free hand, "Oh, I made it myself" feeling your cheeks getting flushed, "Do you like it?" you asked, your eyes gleaming up to his. "It's...nice" He looked at your wrist, "Do you want me to make you one" you exclaimed clasping your hands with his, your eyes sparkling. He felt his face getting hot, his pale face being stained with a pinkish undertone, "Sure" He answered you, your hands wrapping with his as you grabbed him out of the sofa and led him into your bedroom.
He guessed rightfully on what your bedroom would like, it was all pink, and in different shades of pink to pastels to dark vibrant tints. There was a canopy bed with white sheets and pink lacey curtains, a vanity, and your room had pink cherry blossom wallpaper with pink roses, orchids, and carnations. It had a Victorian style to it, with windows that had lacey curtains with pink bows. His eyes darted to you as you were looking through your vanity trying to find the bracelet set. "You were actually the first person who complimented my bracelets before" you smiled to yourself, glancing back at him. "Well, I'm glad I was your first," He said, putting his hands into his pockets. You took out the bracelets from the chest you brought out. The golden, and pink box opens up with your delicate hands, taking out the charms in the compartment, sitting on your bed. "Sit" you patted right of you, as he sat down looking at the box on your lap.
He was wondering why you would bring a man into your bedroom, not even knowing his intentions at all. Your naive personality was worrying, but also adorable as you made a little bracelet for him, putting charms into the golden metal twine. A few minutes passed between you and Coriolanus, "I'm done" you smiled towards him, taking his wrist and putting the bracelet around it, Coriolanus looked at the bracelet with glee that it was made by you. He felt his heart pumping against his chest.
"It's cute," He said, the cool metal touching his arm before he turned his attention to you. "I'm glad" you smiled, your soft lips parting apart. Coriolanus felt something inside of him twinging, blood rushing down to his lower core. You felt his hands on your thigh, rising making you tense up, "Coriolanus what are you doing?" Your eyes darted onto his hands crawling dangerously up to your cunt. "Y/N" he called your name, as you got up quickly from him, "I think you should leave, Coriolanus" You held your hands backing up from him, and he got up too.
Walking towards you as you tense up, feeling your flight and fight senses kicking in. "You should leave...now" You flickered your eyes away from him, and every time he stepped closer you stepped back, the process continued still you hit your dresser. A set of panic coming in you, feeling his hand on your face. His body pressed into yours, "Your really beautiful when you're scared" he whispered, as he caressed your face.
"—You don't even know how long I waited for this" he finished, his arms trailing down from your face to your chest, as he fondled your chest, "Why do you wear these skimpy nightgowns when a boy comes around, like a common whore" he rolled the buds on your chest, as they hardened at his touch through your flimsy garment. You turned your head away, "Stop" you mewl out, feeling your legs getting heavy, his hand taking down the top of the nightgown revealing your breast on display for him. His hands were cold, groping your breast, feeling your cunt pulsing through your cotton panties.
"We should stop now– please" You choked out, putting your hands on his shoulders, you felt a weird sensation through your body. "Why, feels like you're enjoying it" he whispered, "Haah~" you whined, closing your eyes shut. His hands flipping up your nightgown, your hands darted to his, "We should stop, please, it's wrong" you plead, your doe eyes looking at his cold irises.
This look made him feel even more aroused, he ripped off your nightgown making you squeal so cutely, displaying your cute flimsy pink panties before he flipped you against your dresser. He took off your pink panties looking at the wet patch on them, as your ass made contact with his crotch. "Fuck" your eyes making contact with your mirror at the assault happening on the backside of you. He unbuckled his belt, the jingling sounds making you nervous, your eyes glancing back to him at the sound. Your eyes widened at the size of his cock, feeling yourself tremble at the size, "Corio...that's not going to fit" your lip quivered, "Please—don't put that in" Your eyes getting watery, "It's going to be okay" you felt his hand rubbing on your curves, as he lines up against your slit. He rubbed against it feeling your slick against his cock.
Your breath trembled, as he slowly entered into you, and the pain simmered into you as tears pricked on your waterline, "Shh, it's almost all in" he caressed your waist, his finger trailing to your clit, rubbing the nub. His pelvis bottoming inside you, you gasped, putting your hands on your dresser and trying to steady yourself.
"Don't move..please" your chest heaved, your lips already looking bitten up and your cheek looking wet. But you knew he wasn't going to stop, he moved his hips, plunging himself into you, groaning into your ear. You looked at the mirror, watching his hips fucking into you, his pelvis colliding with you.
"Fuck.. you're tight" he growled into your ears, he slipped into your pussy, and the sloppy sounds of the thrusts sounded erotic, it was dirty. You felt his hands on your pigtails pulling you up, the pain on your scalp hurting, your back curved as he thrust into you. Your tongue lolling out, eyes rolling up, as Coriolanus looked into the mirror at your fucked out face, it was erotic and dirty. The painful sensation turns into a pleasurable feeling.
You felt something bubbling in your core, and thrust into you, feeling a wave of pleasure coming through you, liquid dripping down from your cunt. The sloshing of your cunt and his cock connecting you together. Your tits bouncing at the sudden thrust of him, you gripping the porcelain dresser. His mouth connects to yours into a sloppy kiss, while he enters into you.
Everything that was running through your body felt good, making you drool but you knew it was wrong in your pretty little head. It was wrong to be doing this with your brother's friend, sleeping with him. You felt dirty, but you craved his touch further.
Feeling yourself getting closer to your climax another rush of pleasure passes through your body making you tremble very so slight. His hands on your hips, as he rams into you with an animalistic pace. "It's too much" you whined, "You're doing so well, dear" he teasingly rubbed your clit, making you shudder.
"Corio" you mewl under your breath, as he abuses your clit further getting a rise out of you, he bends you over the dresser, the delicate silver handles digging into your stomach, his hips driving into you. Pulling on your cute pigtails, "Look into the mirror darling" Coriolanus growls into your ear, making you feel wet and aroused, you were embarrassed. "Look" he demanded thrusting into you harder, you obey. Your face flushed and your puffy cheeks stained with wet tears. Your tongue lolling out your mouth, panting like an animal.
"I'm close" he groaned, as he caressed your stomach, feeling his cock bulging in your stomach. "Not inside—please" you whined, feeling his teeth on your neck, leaving little bites blooming on your neck, his hands gripping your breast.
"How can I not, you look so adorable when you look at that" He pulled your face in, your face was messy, tears, snot dripping out of your nose, and drool coming out of your cute little mouth. He plunges into you, "Fuck—" he groaned, before feeling hot loads inside of you, making you tremble from the sudden warmth. "Haah~" you huffed before he released you from your pigtails, falling onto your dresser, panting.
Feeling the sudden warmth coming out from you, as he pulls out from you. Hot cum leaked out from you to the wooden floors, your eyes darting to the mirror looking at Coriolanus's tired form, listening to his footsteps as he came to you, rubbing your stomach gently. Your eyes hesitantly peek at him through the mirror,
"You did so' well" He whispers in your ear, combing your hair, with his fingers, being careful not to hurt you in the process as he plants a kiss on your collarbone to your neck. You should have known better than to trust people, some can be sick perverts because thank god Coriolanus was here to protect you. <3
ਏਓ `cute little housewife
``a/n: I'm back, and I have so many good ideas for Coriolanus it is so crazy, so be ready for that. And also if yall have any ideas DM them or request them <3.
warning: p in the v, unprotective, creampie, somnophillia, breeding kink. ** (not proofread)
pairing: Coriolanus x wife!reader
word counter: 1.1k
It's been too long since you have seen your husband, he was always busy in the capitol.
You knew his schedule by heart, knowing he was mostly busy throughout the day and night. You tried to wait on the parlor, laying down on a velvety couch and resting your head on the armrest. It was already 12 when you looked at Big Ben's clock staring at you. Opening the fridge and placing the food in, stretching your body back. Before walking to the bathroom, turning the knob and the hot water flooded out of the faucet to the tub. Putting your hand in the water, it was warm. It was already too late to wait for him any further, so you thought to get ready for bed.
Putting some bath bombs inside, hearing the sizzling of the bath bomb, with the colorful colors diffusing into the water making it look vibrant. Turning off the running water, strip off the clothing on your body. Stepping inside the tub, relaxing your shoulders, and laying your head back.
Parting your legs, allowing your muscles to relax. "Finally" You whispered, closing your eyes and easing your joints. The steam of the water fogged up the mirrors, You laid down in there for an hour, before stepping out and wrapping your wet body with a warm towel. Putting your feet on the fluffy carpet. You did your usual routine changing into a light nightgown that draped your body fully, it was fairly hot today. Getting into your luxurious shared king-sized bed. Closing your eyes, You slipped into the dream world.
Coriolanus stepped onto the porcelain flooring, as it was the large doors were closed by guards. Coriolanus felt pent up from work, walking down to your guy's shared bedrooms. Taking off his shoes and throwing his jacket somewhere else, loosened his tie as he walked to the bedroom. Immediately looking at your peaceful figure on the bed. He found it cute, walking to your side and looking at your calm sleeping face.
He felt ashamed feeling the need for you, your nightgown was skimpy and it was see-through. Exposing every curve of your body and your breasts. His hand touches your face gently. You did stir from that sudden movement. The sudden movement lifted the blanket from your body, making your body more visible to his eyes, making you stir a little bit. His eyes widen at the lack of panties you had, his hands flipping your nightgown over revealing your slit. The cold air makes you almost wake up before he traces your folds making you tense up, your legs locking in his hand. "Haah~" you moan through your lips at the feeling, Before he gently opens your legs, sliding one of his fingers into you, he hears quiet moans from your lips.
Making him more excited, thrusting a few more digits into you, more moans came out of your mouth, as he heard some groaning. Feeling your cunt getting wetter, he felt you tensing up against his finger before he withdrew. Your were deep asleep, rubbing your legs together. Looking at your figure, your body was hot and a blush covered your face, heavy breathing coming from you. "Please–" you murmured out.
He hovered himself above your sleeping form, being careful to not wake you up, playing with his belt slipping off his pants then his boxers. He line himself to your slit, and before thrusting into you, he groaned out in pleasure. He slid into you before his hips collided with yours, your moans becoming louder, "Fuck" he whispered.
Ripping off the top of the nightgown, rolling your nipples with his finger, feeling your nipples getting harder as you got tighter around him. Placing the palm of his hand on the bed, his hips smacking yours, his ball hitting your lower core. Your walls massaged his cock, as he groaned pushing his cock further into you. "Haah~" moans rolling off your tongue, "Corio~" You murmured.
He grabs your thighs and presses them down onto your chest, he gets on top of you, his chest pressing yours, as he thrusts into you, feeling you tighten around him, his ears hearing your heavy breathing.
You woke up almost as soon as he was getting to his climax, "Honey?" your tired eyes looked at him, rubbing your eyes. Your eyes felt heavy, as you moaned. "Fuck, I just really need you" he growled into your ear, moving out and in, before his lips touched yours, in a hot kiss. a string of saliva between both of your lips, looking down at your core, his cock slipping out of you and forceful going back in, making you jolt. "Corio—" you moaned.
His hips smacking onto yours, his hands putting your legs onto your chest, into a better mating press. He looked at your fucked out face, your body feeling ecstasy and pleasure. You felt his pace slowing down, feeling his climax coming in soon, your eyes looking at the messy scene in between your legs. "I'm going to give a little cute baby inside of you" He groaned into your ear, groping your tits.
Realizing your nightgown was gone, your body is unveiled to him. Feeling his hot load painting your gummy walls, he shoved himself into you, fucking the cum into your hole. Your hands gripping the sheets, as you cummed too, feeling a rush of hot liquid dripping out of you. Before he slips out of you, his soft cock is pulled out of you. You missed the warm length inside of you. The erotic scene of your naked exposed body and your pussy dripping from his cum, your dewy, sweaty body, and the ripped fabric around your body.
You were still tired, and weary. You tried to lean onto the headrest but failed, your back laying onto the soft mattress, Looking down at the mess between your legs. Rubbing your eyes, yawning. "Come" You motioned him towards you, patting the side of the bed, "Lay down"
The way you looked made him hard again, the lewd and vulgar scene of your body, white liquid dripping out of your pussy, your breast decorated with little hickies and bites. Bruises and marks on your waist and your hair were a mess. Sounds of panting echoed in the chamber of the room, he obeyed laying next to you still in the nude. He pushed your body close to you, rubbing your waist gently. Feeling him pressed onto your ass. Feeling him close to made you feel safe, his hand secure around you, you felt your eyes drooping down and falling asleep again, with his hands around you.
SASSY MEN DO IT BETTER! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which yours and tom’s behind the scenes gossip session goes viral and everyone’s dying to know who’s it about
AUTHOR’S NOTE. thank you to whomever requested this, nonnie i love you! this was so much fun to write and instead of Instagram posts, I decided to do tweets this time! enjoy as always and thank you for the overwhelming support on my au, it means so so much
installment of this au (recommend reading for context)
It started off innocent.
Just you and Tom in the background of a Behind The Scenes video where Rachel was currently talking about her character, Lucy Gray Baird.
You and Tom were fairly close in proximity—as you always were anyway—and you two were scrolling through your phones, showing each other funny videos or pictures of beautiful places that showed up on your feed.
That was until a message popped up from your ex, some jerk who had somehow gained a role in a movie and thought he was now some hotshot in the film industry.
“Oh seriously,” Tom mutters, watching as you tapped on the messages your ex had sent you. “He’s got to be kidding.”
Your ex had apparently “missed you greatly” and wanted to hang out so you two could catch up. He said he watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and was in awe of how well you acted. If he wasn’t such a toxic asshole when you two were dating, you would take it as a compliment.
“I don’t know where he has the nerve.” Tom says, giving you a disgusted look. “Like girl, please.”
“Girl please?” You say, giggling as your head fell back into his chest. “Baby, I didn’t know you said things like that.”
“There’s plenty of more where that came from,” he says, “Okay, I need to stop. What if someone on set thinks I’m crazy?”
“They already think you’re crazy.”
Tom rolls his eyes, shoving your shoulder back slightly. “You’re lucky you’re my girlfriend.”
“I think you’re more of the girlfriend in the relationship Tom,” you say, shrugging. You fail to hold in your laugh as you watch Tom’s expression turn into shock. “I’m kidding, thank you for being the best boyfriend I can ask for.”
He grumbles a sure whatever under his breath when you engulf him in a tight hug.
“You’re practically crushing my lungs.” He says a minute in, only to be responded with a roll of your eye. “But hey, I’m much better than that newbie actor ex of yours, right?”
“Is that even a question?” You say, pulling away. “He was just nonchalant and mean to me half of the time. Don’t know why I even dated him.”
Your phone goes off, another message coming from your ex. “Oh, he called you knock off Draco Malfoy, which by the way, isn’t even an insult because he doesn’t even come close to you or Draco Malfoy in terms of looks.”
Tom lets out an honest to God laugh at your commentary, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, but didn’t you have a huge crush on Malfoy as a kid?”
You pretend to think for a minute before nodding your head teasingly, “yeah, I guess things never change huh?”
“Okay stop, you know I’m a fake blonde.”
And the entire moment between you and Tom is captured on camera, sending your fans into a frenzy as they watched how cute you two were with each other.
make you mine ✧ - ©tonixe ☆ pervert!president snow x fem!reader (proofread ???)
☆ Imagine being coriolanus's little cute maid...he would be all over you, everywhere you walk, and he'd be a few steps away, whenever your busy doing your job, like cleaning the floors, sweeping the cinders, and drying the laundry. His eyes won't leave you at all, because of how cute you were in your little skirt and uniform. He would even purposely make your uniform shorter than normal, your dress reaching your bottom, not even bothering to cover your cotton white panties when you're cleaning the bookcases, standing on your high tippy toes.
You didn't even bother speaking out on the changes, just keeping quiet and lowering your skirt when it began to rise. His favorite thing for you to do is cleaning up his office, purposely making a mess, and calling you to clean it. With your little skirt rising up as you tried to clean everything up, and was busy at the same trying to pull your skirt down to prevent flashing him.
His eyes flickered to your bottom, as your skirt lifted up, and your body bent down trying to get the pens that he dropped. As he got a better view of your ass covered by your panties.
horny!coriolanus would love to get you sitting on his lap, playing with the hem of your uniform, and putting his fingers lower down, till it touched your upper thigh, and his finger slowly entering you. Just to hear your sinful moan from your lips, your head burrowing into the corner of his neck, trying to save yourself from the embarrassing scene.
when your alone with coriolanus in his office. He loves to put his hands all over you in the privacies of his office, having office sex with him. Your body was bent over his desk, as he pushed his cock into you, you gripped the desk trying to get support from him. You covered your mouth trying to hide your moans, as he abused your cunt, closing your eyes and taking the pain. Moans being ripped out of your throat.
horny!coriolanus demands you not wear any of your panties while working at all, so it's easy to access for him. Making your job harder for you with the protection of your panties.
when coriolanus is pent up or really stressed, he loves it when you give him BJ. Your soft lips on his cock, trying to take him inside but gagging. Tear pricking on your waterline, looking up at him with his trembling pleasurable form. Groaning came out of his lips, as he busted his load into your mouth, and you swallowed all of the salty clear, white substances.
He loves to overstimulate you, abusing your clit as he fuck you on his desk. Your back on the desk, as he plunges his cock inside of you. Your uniform was a mess, and flipped up covering your face from seeing anything. Biting your lip down trying to be quiet and not moan out, and making a scene.
Though being a little maid working for coriolanus, he would gift little things like expensive necklaces or bracelets, and even some lingering, making your face turn red looking at it. Being a bright bloody red set...
At night coriolanus would invite you to his chambers, you being the naive little maid you were went, thinking it was some task he wanted you to do. Just for you to be completely almost half naked, taking his cock inside of you, thrusting inside of you. His hands on your waist, gripping down, and your legs up being held with his hands. He bent down, whispering into your ear sweet nothingness, as you mewled at his touch.
Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbird and Snakes
Motive - coriolanus x reader
goverment hooker - coriolanus x reader
Charade - coriolanus x reader
make you mine - pervert!coriolanus x reader
ਏਓ `cute little housewife
ਏਓ ` caged
mistress
santa baby
christmas with coriolanus
FAME
PUPPETER
Grim Reaper
Dirty Little Secret
Hot Secretary
malignant
Charade...
a/n: Omg, like guys I'm lowkey obsessed with Coriolanus Snow, like obsessed, but I can't like to stop, like I'm literally going crazy for this white boy like lemme just love you like pleaseeeeee. Also, I got heavily influenced to write this after watching the charade movie, this fic will have lyrics connected to it, so you can listen to it or not, the choice is yours. The song I used is Charade by Henry Mancini.
warning: angst, mentions of some sort of cheating, reader being used, yelling. proofread (?) maybe, idk.
pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader
word counter: 1.6k
When we played our charade...
You stood there fitting on your dress, one of the maids tightening up your corset on the back of your dress. You were going to attend an event, being seen by the public of the people of Panem. Well, being the first lady of Panem, organizing, and attending thousands of events in your husband's honor. Your role was to keep a smile, even when it was a good time for you or your country. You served the public and served your husband, looking inside yourself into the mirror in front, as the maid finished fighting your dress up. It was a red, burgundy dress that he personally picked for you, to match your husband's suit.
We were like children posing...
You weren't originally supposed to be in the position, you weren't even supposed to be married to him. You only know if when you were kids, him and his cousin, Tigris. You were familiar, knowing her more than you knew him. But time came to pass by, and you managed to know more about him, his likes, and dislikes, he was always around his grandmother when he stopped by you. It was always a vivid memory for you, playing seek with the younger version of himself and running around the park, you really missed him, but now it didn't feel like him at all.
Playing games..acting out names..guessing the parts we played...
Placing your hand near where your heart lay, staring at the mirror hoping it would break. It was a small world, you both went to the same academy, where you met him again after a little time apart, you still sent letters to him though, hoping he read every last word you marked on the page. You manage to reunite there, spending your time with him, talking, walking to classes, and doing everything together.
Oh, what a hit we made...
You felt your heart pumping when you were near him, his nice demeanor making you feel safe. He was your everything, you didn't think he thought the same but you still kept the feelings to yourself. Remember sitting in the library after hours, studying next to him, feeling yourself getting drowsy, almost falling down on your open textbook. "Are you tired?" You turned to him, he didn't look at you, his eyes looking at the textbook. Your cheeks flushed, before he turned to you. You felt your palm getting sweaty, and the pace of your heart increasing, "No" You lied, turning back to your book, "I know when you lie, Y/N" He tapped his shoulder, your eyes widening, "You sure?" You asked. He nodded. You placed your head on his shoulder trying not to make him uncomfortable or distracted. Smiling to yourself, before closing your eyes, you swore to yourself that you saw a little smile on his solemn face.
We came on next to closing...
You were really satisfied when you were with him, a smile never leaving your face. Spending time with him whenever you can, and he loved it too. A smile is always on his face when he sees you in the hallway, running towards him.
Best on the bill..lovers until...
He was familiar with your family. Your mom liked him. Your father respected him. You were happy, but happier when he confessed his feelings to you, your cheeks felt hot. Everything felt like a dream to you, this was what you wanted. His hands were on your face gently, as he pulled you into a kiss, you closed your kiss, loving every minute of it. You felt on top of the world, and your crush liked you back, isn't that what you wanted the whole time.
Love left the masquerade...
Everything took a sharp turn when reaping day came, he was in the top 24th of the best students in the academy, pairing in the Hunger Games as a mentor. You were happy for him, hugging him and giving him kisses. Him, laying down on your lap, as you played with his hair, as he voiced his wants to you. You listened to him, enjoying his ribboning voice to your ears, kissing him on his forehead.
Fate seemed to pull the strings...
Until you saw Lucy Gray, on the holographic screen. You never saw her as an opponent, she actually made you curious, about her voice and how she represented herself. She was from District 12, with a voice only found in the country of Panem, and a nice one too. Your eyes seemed to tune on to the TV screen, watching her. She was going to be the ticket for Coriolanus to win, hoping in your heart that she would win the hungry games. Though she physically didn't suit the standards of a fighter. You gave out prayers at night for her to stay alive for Coriolanus.
I turned and you were gone...
Time... when you Coriolanus would hang out was shortening. His time is consumed by the Hunger Games. Most of his time, his thoughts, and mind went to her. You understood why he couldn't talk to as often as you wanted, but a small part of your heart panged from the thought. Many thoughts rushed through your head, thinking that Lucy Gray would replace you as a seal upon his heart, you tried to wash them out, but couldn't. It was irrational to think that of your boyfriend, you wished you didn't believe too.
While from the darkened wing...
You tried to voice your thoughts to him but were met with a quiet stare. Your face was worried, and your heart was slowly crumbling. "Coriolanus, wait..please!' You exclaimed you cried out, but he kept on walking down the halls, before he turned to you, "Y/N, how can I..pay attention to the games, if you distracting me" That was the first time he raised his voice at him, your eyes widen, you felt your eyes getting glossy. It was the first time he ever raised his voice at you, "C-coryo, I'm just worried, please" You begged, he was getting irritated by you, "I just don't want to lose you" Your voice died out, your chest heaving, tears leaking onto your cheeks. Hearing his footsteps coming closer to you, his hands on your cheeks, "There is nothing going on with me and Lucy Gray, alright" He looked at you in the eyes, and your stomach dropped. Before he released it and walked down to the halls where the games were going to resume.
The music box played on...
Your heart beating in your chest, as you collapsed to the floor, Wanting to tear up but couldn't feel anything to let out. Your heart pumps a sad symphony as you place your hand on top of your chest, holding yourself close.
Sad little serenade...
You watched on your TV, your siblings, and your parents peering into the television. As you walked to the parlor room, looked at the television, looking at Lucy Gray being the last one alive in the games. Your heart jumped, feeling elated for Coriolanus and his victory being secured. You wanted to run to him, hug him, give him kisses on his cheeks, but the pang still ringing in your heart. Knowing that the seal of his love was won by another person, though it wasn't official, you still felt it.
Song of my heart's composing...
You went to the academy, going to your classes. You wanted to see Coriolanus, and hug him after his victory, waiting what felt like hours for you to go and run to him. Entering into the classroom and sitting down, looking to the side where Coriolanus was supposed to sit. It was weird, your dear Coryo. Would never missed any days of the academy anything, he always put his education first. You turned to your left, seeing Clemensia. Wasn't he his partner in class, "Um, excuse me. Have you seen Coriolanus" You asked, hoping for answers for yourself. She shook her head... wasn't it strange. The day after his win, he was magically gone. You needed answers...
I hear it still, and I always will...
The news hit you like a truck, Coriolanus volunteering his time in the military. it was odd, his goal, or dreams better to say, was graduating, and then going to a university, it didn't make sense at all why, he would go that route. He wouldn't do anything, he didn't tell you, right.
Best on the Bill...
You wrote letters, though time did pass
you still wrote letters to him, though you didn't send them, not knowing his direct location, but you hoped he was still alive, safe, and sound. Sending some prayers for him to come back, every day and night. Though you didn't give him a proper goodbye, you still felt you were entitled to do it.
A total of three years passed, you counted them. 365 days every year, waiting for him to come, maybe for you. But you just wanted to see him again.
Charade...
You heard a knock on your door and opened the door to see a matured Coriolanus at your door. Your heart dropped. It didn't feel real to you at all. You wanted to cry and hug him, but you kept yourself composed, looking him in the eyes, he didn't say anything. He offered you a dehorned, red rose. His appearance changed, his blond curls shortened, he was wearing a red suit and his face was stern, less gentle than you remembered. You took it, placing it in your heart, "I missed you" You whispered, feeling tears rolling down your cheeks.
But now, you are in his mess. Going out into the hall, as he waited for you, putting your hands around his, he turned to you, whispering into your ear, "You look beautiful" As you both walked into the awaiting people, waiting to see yours and his appearance.
Hearing the symphony die out, as you reached the shining light of the chandelier above.
